#oh so youre an 'intellectual with no room for feelings' huh

[firestorm09890]

The still image of Zexion with his head resting on the arm of his chair after losing in multiplayer 358/2 Days was already very funny but it's even funnier knowing that the full animation has him slam his fist down in frustration and only after making sure no one else is watching

[aangell333]

Okay your Spencer smut might be the best I've ever read, could you maybe do one about Spencer absolutely manhandling reader and just like really rough sex. Idk maybe some jealousy or a bad case and he needs to take his anger out on you, just whatever you want.

And like just really rough with like edging and overstimulation and dacryphilia and just very very rough. And maybe some sweet aftercare or something like that

I'm in desperate need for Spencer to fuck me till I'm cum dumb :))

Thank you <33

oh

my god.

first off THANK YOU SWEETIE THATS TOO SWEET OF YOU!!

second off i’ve given the reader a thing I personally have where I kinda cum prematurely during sex 🫠 this means I get overstimulated really easily so I think it’ll pair with what you’re looking for :)

this is utter filth guys. also I KNOWWW some things are unrealistic but they’re hot so shove it.

so sorry this took so long and that the ending feels super rushed 😭

anyways enjoy!

you knew this was wrong.

hooking up with your coworker simply because this case was beating both your asses and sex wasn’t exactly presenting itself to you as a little pink box with a shiny ribbon on top.

the two of you had been going back and forth all day, snapping and jabbing at each other. theories were belittled and intellectuality degraded; everyone knew one of you was about to snap. they expected you to end up going through the dry wall or spencer out of the window.

they would never have expected to… explode in this way.

it was dirty. filthy. you both knew it.

and you both loved it.

he followed close behind you as you entered the hotel room and the door slammed behind him before his hands were all over you. he grabbed you by the upper arms, tugging you harshly into the wall. you hit it with a thud, your head bouncing off it.

you barely had time to get your surroundings before his hand was closing around your neck.

“do you get off on some sick power play to diminish me in front of everyone?” he hissed. “i’ve been doing this for years. you’ve been here for two seconds compared to my experience.”

“wow, prison sure did harden you up, huh. word from the team has it you were a little bitch before,” you could barely get your statement out before his hand was tightening, having you gasping for air as your airways closed up.

“shut the fuck up.” you would’ve snapped back, if you weren’t distracted by your buttons flying everywhere.

the two parts of the front of your now-ruined blouse were clutched in spencer’s hands. his face was the picture of rage, anger simmering in his gorgeous eyes and his lips pursed tightly.

“you asshole!”

“no. you need to be put in your place.”

you’d never been kissed with such ferocity. his lips smushed against yours, pressing them this way and that. it was messy, almost gross the way your tongues intertwined and saliva dripped. spencer pulled your hair from the crown of your head, harshly pulling your head back as his mouth immediately latched onto the column of your neck.

as he sucked and nipped, he pushed your blouse further off your shoulders the lower he went. your own fingers fumbled with his buttons, trying desperately to undo them. once your blouse was on the floor, he pulled away from you, throwing you onto the bed.

“dumb bitch can’t even undo some buttons?” he hissed, ripping your shoes off as you hastily unbuttoned your jeans.

“god, reid, shut up!” you wined as you squirmed your hips and pushed your jeans down.

“such a mouth on you.” he tutted patronisingly, rolling the sleeves of his half-buttoned-up shirt to his elbows and freeing his belt from his pant loops. “I ought to teach you a lesson.”

he chucked his belt onto the bed beside you before forcefully yanking your jeans off. he then grabbed your wrists in one hand, restraining you as he flipped you over. before you knew it, he was sat on the edge of the bed with you over his knee.

“reid!” you exclaimed as he folded his belt in half.

crack.

“ah!” your yelp sounded more like a moan, your ass stinging red.

the juxtaposition of spencer’s soothing hand and scrutinisingly-sweet voice overwhelmed your senses.

“aww, does the brat not know how to take her punishment with fucking dignity? this is what rude little girls get, you understand?” his tone boiled rage in you.

“fuck you.”

crack.

“ah!”

“count it.” he hissed.

“wha- what?”

crack.

“fucking count it!”

“one!”

“good girl.” his tone was condescending, as if he was talking to a misbehaving child trying to turn their behaviour around.

you counted every crack to your skin, your flesh burning as the belt came down on it. you eventually got to ten, your ass glowing red and cheeks tear-streaked. yet, by the time you got to ten, your pussy was soaked.

your hole oozed slick with every crack and caress that spencer administered to your cheeks. you whimpered in his lap, pressing your face into the comforter of the hotel bed.

“you dick.” you whimpered with a sniffle.

a smack to your hot rear had your back arching.

“i’ll show you dick.” spencer snarled.

he spread his legs, pushing you off of him and onto your knees between his. the stark contrast of your naked body and his fully clothed one was enough to have you grinding in your seat. spencer undid his flies and opened them, presenting his cock straining against his boxers to you.

he once again tangled his hand in your hair at the crown of your head before pulling you into his crotch. you let out a muffled whine, pushing on his thighs, but he held you still. you couldn’t move your face from his boxer shorts.

“lick.” he commanded, but you couldn’t hear him over your struggle. “I said, lick.”

it was degrading the way he had you lapping at his clothed cock like a damn dog. your tongue picked up bits of lint from the fabric of his boxers and the spot where his tip was leaking precum was damp and salty. it was disgusting. you couldn’t help but love it.

when your hands came up to the elastic of his boxers, he didn’t stop you from pulling them down. his cock stood up, taking your breath with it.

what he lacked slightly in girth, god damn did he make up for in length. he was huge, intimidating even.

“the fuck are you waiting for? what happened to the cock-hungry bitch licking my cock a second ago?” his words probed at something inside of you and you curled your hand around his cock, squeezing.

and god did you want to capture that breathy moan and head tilt that he released and keep it forever.

but his mood quickly shifted as his hands gripped your hair and shoved your face down onto his cock. gags, whimpers and tears left you as he hammered his cock into your throat, his pace relentless and bruising.

“god, this shut you up, huh? I should have you like this more often. bet you’d love it if I shut you up by shoving my cock into your mouth in the middle or the office, huh? show hotch and morgan what a slut you are for my cock. yeah? you want that attention?” he was mocking you! god knows what compelled you to hum and nod in agreement. “fucking whore. oh, look at you! fucking touching yourself?”

his cock was pulled out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting you to it. ignoring your coughs and splutters, he manoeuvred his leg between yours, angling it so his shin rubbed deliciously against your core.

“wha- what are you doing?” you asked him, voice slightly hoarse.

“if you wanna get off so bad, you can hump my leg like the bitch you are!” he laughed.

anger flooded you, your nails biting into his calf and a frown coming over your face.

“no.”

“oh!”

his leg jolting up to meet your core had you moaning loudly. and you couldn’t help yourself. you started chasing that feeling, hips working overtime as you fully humped dr spencer reid’s leg. that was still covered by his stupid pants!

“aww, aren’t you just a needy bitch?” his tone was condescending, mocking as he lazily stroked his cock like you were simply porn material. you shook your head, prompting him to begin bouncing his leg up to meet your core. “come on, tell me what a needy bitch you are.”

“I’m a needy bitch,” you whispered out.

you found your arms wrapping around his leg as you pressed your whole body to him, still humping him.

“louder.” he ordered.

“I’m a needy bitch!” your voice is pitchy and whiny, almost screaming when he begins rocking his leg up to meet your sensitive clit.

you didn’t have to hump for long before you found your core tightening and your breathing becoming more laboured. you whimpered out how close you were, causing spencer to pull his leg from under you. the loss of balance had you falling into his knee, face smushing against the bony structure.

“wha…” you whimpered sadly as spencer pouted down at you with faux-sympathy.

“aww, is the little bitch all sad she can’t cum?” he asked condescendingly, making you sit straight again.

you sat in front of him on your knees, looking up at him with an angry pout. deciding to take matters into your own hands and stop waiting for his every order, you crawled to turn yourself around, revealing your back to him.

“what are you doing, huh?” he murmured.

you didn’t say anything, only lifting your ass up and down a few times as if you were shaking your ass on a dick. you felt it jiggle, looking back at him with a smirk. his pupils were blown and his hand loose around his cock.

“pet…” he warned and you took your chances.

still on the floor, you fell forward and pushed your ass into the air as you manoeuvred yourself into the deepest arch. you whined loudly as you did so, exposing your gooey, drooling hole to him. where you were sat, a wet patch glistened and the thin string connected to the carpet and your hole snapped. you heard spencer sigh shakily and squirmed on the bed. the sound of a zipper going back up sounded, the rustling of a button returning back to its hole.

only that’s where you’re wrong. he wasn’t squirming, he was standing.

three long fingers pushed easily into your hole, making you scream out. he kneeled over you, almost mounting you as he fingerfucked you. he was relentless, curling and uncurling his fingers at an ungodly speed. your slick dripped down his hand, sprayed over his forearm with the force of his movements and squelched loudly.

“trying to tease me?” he draped his body over yours as he hissed in your ear.

you whined pathetically, hips pushing back to meet his hand. he didn’t stop and you felt your orgasm drawing closer.

“oh god! oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m close!” you yelled out, only for his fingers to remove from your body. “wha- reid!”

“aww, I know. it’s hard being teased, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone as condescending as ever. you whimpered as you felt your orgasm dissolve.

and he plunged his fingers back in your pussy, grinning and laughing when you screamed out and your eyes rolled back. his fingers sped up and up and up until they stopped again.

each time you got close, he would stop touching you all together. he knelt over you and laughed as you begged and babbled pathetically. he was practically mounting you, you hadn’t even realise he’d pulled his cock out.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded and babbled pathetically. “of course you do.”

it was that night that you realised, you’d never experienced true pleasure until you had spencer reid fucking you like a madman.

his pace was relentless, bruising and wild. his hips slammed against your already sore ass and his tip bullied your cervix. tears rolled down your face, making him laugh.

“my little toy looks so pretty when she cries! aw, what’s the matter, princess?” he cooed mockingly in your ear.

“feels- feels so- so good…” you could hardly speak, hardly form a thought. it was too much.

you were cumming before you knew it, coating his cock in your cream. he laughed mockingly at you, hand coming down to draw little circles on your clit. you screamed and spasmed, knees giving up on you as you fell to the floor. he held you up by your hips, almost completely suspending your lower half.

“can’t even hold yourself up.” he grunted.

with one arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand at your clit, he chased his own orgasm in a haze of blinding hot pleasure. yet, you were cumming again before he was, your squirt splashing out onto his legs.

“oh, sweetheart! squirting all over me?” he laughed delightedly. “what a good girl. fuck, baby, I’m- hah- I’m close. gonna come inside. gonna- ha-ah- fill you up- fuck- yeah- claim you-”

his seed spilled into you in thick, copious amounts. you felt him fill you, your tummy swelling a little with the amount he was pumping into you.

“thank you, doctor,” you whimpered out, feeling all hazy and fuzzy.

he was panting above you, head thrown back in exhaustion.

“good girl. my good girl,” he murmured breathlessly. “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

you’d never been pampered as nicely as you were that night.

*~*~*

“ah! spencer! ah!” derek moaned at you, high pitched and over dramatic, as you place his coffee down on his borrowed desk.

you frowned, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’d rather you kept your sexual fantasies to yourself. I think that’s something you discuss with reid,” you sniped.

“I think you discusssd a lot with reid last night,” he smirked. “oh my god! just like that spencer!”

“someone clearly wasn’t paying attention. he likes it when I call him doctor.” you say, stalking away.

from his seat opposite derek, spencer grinned at him in a way that clearly said: “yeah. she’s mine.”

@wietske27

[cheriladycl01]

Paparazzi - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader

Plot: you are a university student in the UK, and the Paparazzi manage to find out where you go and stalk you due to rumors surfacing about.

It was a pretty shit day at university for you, you were a third year law student who had just come back from an amazing placement with Mercedes as part of their legal counsel.

You'd had so much fun and had worked really closely with Lewis and George. It also was the first year that you were able to travel from the last half of one season, to the 3/4 of the next season.

He was a driver for McLaren, his job and you being a student meant that you guys didn't see each other as much as you'd like.

You had been dating for the good part of 4 years now having met in secondary school and stayed as friends even when he left the school. When you started on your A-levels and he was progressing in his driving career he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Now he was in Formula One and you were about to be graduating university. It had however been difficult, the transition of being with Lando pretty much everyday, and now not seeing him was killing you.

It had taken a tole on you, you had dark circles under your eyes, your nose was red from the cold. Your class hadn't been great either and tears were starting to brim your eyes. You just wanted to get home and cry it out in private.

Lando: Hey Babe, its Thursday so media day today and McLaren are busy! Call me later, love you lots!

The text made more tears brim in your eyes until you heard the snap of a camera. Next you saw the flash.

Your eyes dart up seeing the 5 or 6 people with cameras behind you, following you. You pick up your pace, going towards your specific building on campus where you could hide out with your personal tutor until they left you alone.

You walk into the building into a flurry of students walking around the building pulling the hood of Lando's hoodie up. You make your way to a back stairwell that was quieter than the main one and made your way up the 5 flights of stairs to where your personal tutors room was.

"Michael?" you ask entering the room, nobody was there so you sat on the small little sofa he had at the side of his office. You pull the work bench closer to you, placing your laptop and book down before getting on with some work for your Intellectual Property Module.

Minutes later Michael comes in, a shocked look on his face as he observes you.

"Y/N what are you doing here?" he asks walking past you and taking a seat at his desk, sipping from the takeaway coffee he had just brought.

"I had Paps come onto campus again. And i've had a bit of a shit day" you mumble looking at the email from Lewis asking you to do some research for him if you had any free time.

"Well, you know my door is always open for you"

"That's why i let myself in" you grin at him, already feeling better. He spoke to you for about an hour, while he was doing his own research and marking behind his computer.

"I think its safe to say they've left now" he admits engrossed in something on his computer.

"How'd you know?"

"There's articles already up, some of these headlines. Oh lord they are ridiculous" Michael admits scrolling down on his mouse wheel looking further.

"Huh?" you ask before looking online under your name.

Lando Norris Girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N, Seen Crying On University Campus After Breakup Report Y/N Y/L/N Seen On Campus Crying Is There Tension Between Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N On Her First Absent Race Of The Season Lando Norris Cheats On Girlfriend - Her Reaction Is Heartbreaking!

"I'm just going to go home. I don't have the energy to read any of these. Thank you for letting me stay" you admit, packing up your bag and nodding in a goodbye to your personal tutor.

As you exit the building and make your way to the carpark where your Mercedes-AMG SL 63 sat, courtesy of your time at Mercedes for the last year. You now still work for them, but from the Brackley and part-time around your degree.

You get in and let out a long sigh, you pull away getting onto the road driving back to yours and Lando's apartment which was about a 30 minute drive away.

Lando started to call you, the ringtone blaring through the car speakers that your phone was connected to. You hit accept on the screen, your eyes only momentarily wavering from the road.

"Y/N baby, what's up. The articles and the photos of you! You look so sad, what's going on?" he immediately starts grilling you like you'd expected him to when he would eventually see the articles.

"Sorry, I'm in the car right now! I just had a shitty say at uni and i really fucking miss you" you breathe out happy to finally admit it. It was the end of October now and you'd been back at university for a month.

"I know baby, you still planning to come out for the last race, in Abu Dhabi?" he offers, it sounds like he's busy and like he's walking around the McLaren garage. He did say it was media day...

"Erm, ill let you go. Its like midnight there and you have a big day with practice tomorrow" you say, he starts to stay something but you interrupt before he can.

"I love you, goodnight" you say to prompt him.

"Goodnight, ill see you soon" he sighs, he also sounded tired just like you.

You drove the rest of the way home, pulling up in the underground carpark and just sitting there for a few minutes taking in some breaths.

You eventually get out the car and head into yours and Lando's apartment. The apartment was always clean because either you were here or your parents were kind enough to house sit while you and Lando were away.

You did your normal routine for when Lando wasn't here, which was go to the gym, go back and shower, cook food eat food and go to sleep.

You never really had any motivation for anything when he wasn't around.

The next day was a free day from uni, you went to the Mercedes team, everyone could tell that something was up with you. They chose not to say anything and just let you get through your shift. You'd had a cute Good morning text from Lando, asking if you'd slept well and if you'd eaten.

You'd replied, saying yes to both and that you were just catching up on his free practices and that he had really good times, as you'd expected.

But part of you just longed for him to come home.

[writercole]

A Real Rancher

Summary: A night of relaxing leads to the promise of more. Words: 1366 Warnings: Fluff Credits: None, really. Unbeta'd. A/N: I have no idea where this came from. But it flew out of me last night and I have no regrets. A/N 2: For Becca Bear.

The birth of the last calf brought the total up to fifteen, just this fortnight. The life of a rancher, his life, made Rhett happy. Little moments like the first steps of the tiniest animals that would grow into thousand pound beasts made him smile. But he could admit that the ranch life wasn’t for everyone.

Like the girl who just ghosted him.

Or the one before who said that she couldn’t handle the hours he worked.

Or even the one before that who didn’t like that he smelled like manure when he came in from work.

Women were ridiculous. It’s not like they had to do the work. It’s not like he didn’t shower after he came in. But they used it as an excuse to leave rather than giving him half a chance.

Rhett made sure the heifer and the calf were healthy and cared for before heading back up to the ranch house, looking at the setting sun and deciding he needed a drink. But first, a shower. Maybe two.

As he walked into the dingy dive bar, he immediately noticed a woman at the end of the bar, her glasses low on her nose, a pencil in one hand and what looked like a business document in the other, though that document was about five hundred pages, if he had to guess. He ordered his usual and headed to his usual table, sitting back in the corner and letting the stresses and tensions of the day melt away as he listened to the old juke box across the room and sipped his drink.

Two more rounds and he was feeling great, watching the people in the bar come alone and leave together, passing the time with a spin around the dance floor or giggles in the far corner. He noticed that the woman he’d noticed at first was still there, furiously scribbling notes on her...whatever. Strands of hair fell out of her messy bun and her lip tucked beneath her front teeth. Her brow furrowed and Rhett chuckled.

Her head snapped up and she looked around, eyes locking on Rhett, and jumped off of her stool. He shifted in his seat as he clocked her making a beeline straight to him, suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that he was staring at her. She stopped in front of him at the table and he could see that she wasn’t angry, she was curious.

“Are you a rancher?” She rushed out.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Like a real rancher, not one of those preppy boys whose daddy owns a lot of cattle but has people who do the work for them. You’re the one who does the work?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” he replied, his own brow furrowing beneath his stetson. “I’m Rhett Abbott. My family’s own the ranch for generations now.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed as she pulled out a chair across from him, “can I ask you some questions? Oh, shoot, my pencil.” She patted her pockets and checked behind her ears, coming up empty handed.

“Um, ma’am? It’s in your hair?” Rhett said, pointing at her bun.

“Oh!” She exclaimed as she pulled it out of the space he pointed at.

“Can I ask what these questions are for?”

“Well, I’m writing a book and this one character is a rancher and I just don’t think I’ve gotten him right and – oh shit. How do I keep losing everything?”

“You left the...book? On the bar.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she told him before rushing across the room and grabbing the papers she’d been making notes on.

Rhett was entirely entranced with this woman. He’d never met a writer before, not that Wabang had a great intellectual population to begin with.

She sat back at the table and flipped her notebook to a clean page, writing his name across the top before returning her gaze to him.

“It’s two t’s,” he pointed out.

“Huh?”

“Abbott. It’s two b’s, two t’s,” he explained, gesturing to his name written across her page.

“Oh, sorry.”

“S’okay,” he shrugged. “So these questions?”

“This guy works on a ranch and he’s got to do cow stuff and I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or cows or anything like that and I was hoping that you could maybe, possibly, tell me about the stuff you do for cows?” She spoke quickly, like she was expecting him to get bored with her voice in the time it took for her to ask her question.

“That’s a pretty broad question,” he laughed, “do you have anything more specific?”

“No,” she sighed. “Like I said, I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or anything. The closest I’ve come to a cow is the petting zoo.”

Rhett gestured for another round for the two of them and settled back against the wall. “Well, darlin, let’s get you learned.”

The pair of them spent the rest of the night talking, only realizing how long it had been when the lights came up and the bartender announced last call. Their topics had drifted from the work on the ranch to much more personal topics. He learned that she had quit her job and moved to Wabang to follow her dreams of writing a contemporary romance set in the west. When he questioned why she had to move out to the absolute sticks to do that, she looked down at the table.

“No one supported me. They thought I was wasting my time writing. It was never a worthy career path because who wants to read a book anymore,” she admitted quietly.

Rhett felt more emotion flow through him in that moment than he had since Amy had disappeared. He was pissed at people who told her it was a waste of time, sorry for her feeling like she had no one, hopeful that she would give him half a chance. “Well, if it makes any difference, I think you’re doing an amazing thing.”

“Really?” She asked, her face going from dejection to elation in an instant. Her shoulders squared and her eyes lit up, as if she was hearing someone tell her positive things for the first time.

“Yeah. It’s not easy to follow your dreams, especially when they lead you away from the people you care about,” he spoke from experience, “and to do something like writing a book...man, that takes guts and brains and all kinds of stuff I definitely don’t have.”

“But...you ride bulls?”

“That doesn’t take any brains, darlin. In fact, it takes a distinctive lack of brains and self preservation.”

“Um, no,” she countered. “That takes so much brains, Rhett.”

“Hey, you two, we’re closing,” the bartender called across the otherwise empty room.

“Can I drive you back to your room?” Rhett asked as he stood.

“It’s a short walk. I’m next door,” she shrugged sadly.

“Well, how about I leave you my number and you can call me with your questions. Maybe come by the ranch tomorrow and see how things go?”

“Can I pet the cows?!”

“I’ll make sure to keep them in the barn just for you,” he grinned. He wrote his number down on her book and offered his arm, escorting her to the small inn next door.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“I’ll make sure to answer.”

“Goodnight, Rhett. It was really nice to meet you,” she said with a wave, walking through the thick, wooden door into her temporary accommodations.

Rhett watched until the door clicked shut, walking backwards to his truck just in case she came back down. A light turned on in a room over his head as he opened the door and his glance shot up in time to see her pull back the curtain and peek outside, waving when she caught him staring. He waved back, watching until she dropped the curtain before he climbed into his truck.

The idea to sleep in the parking lot crossed his mind for half a second before he started the engine, turning his truck towards home. He had an early date with a writer. The cows had to be ready.

[clubdionysus]

[THE FIRST BAD DECISION] Prologue

warnings: alcohol, partying, kissing strangers

wc: 2.4k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

FOUR YEARS EARLIER

Jeon Jeongguk looks devastatingly pretty with cherry-red lips. Smudged and a little faded, they leave the faintest mark on the end of his cigarette—a bad habit, he knows, but one that he picked up as an excuse to flirt with a girl whose lips are far more crimson than his.

Of course they are, though. How else would she stain him in evidence of her existence if they weren't?

Even when he's tarnished in her, there's no evidence of him on her. Nothing to tell new acquaintances to stay away—and Hayun loves making new friends.

A bottle of Jack rests by his feet. Neat. A little lukewarm. Ass perched on the curb outside a house just off campus, he's in no mood to get himself embroiled in the debauchery he knows his friends are partaking in. Just wants to clear his head.

Foolishly hopes she'll do the same. That she'll notice his absence. That her heart will ache like his currently is.

In their final year of studies, his friends are all letting loose for the final time before they have to cram for finals. It's a night of celebration. Of last-chances. Of opportunities that won't present themselves again for a good few lunar orbits.

And so while he may not have the same restrictions, having started his studies a little later than scheduled, he's been making the most of it with them.

Quiet kisses hidden from his friends are fun. He likes them. Loves them, even.

But to then watch her very publicly let a guy make moves on her? To make moves back?

Feels fuckin' awful.

"Oh, you know what?" A voice echoes from the porch of the house behind him. "You can take her violin and shove it up your ass, you ostentatious, pseudo-intellectual prick."

It's a little twisted, but it brings Jeongguk comfort to know he isn't the only one with a shitty excuse for a love life. Knows he shouldn't listen in—but fuck it.

"Where does she keep her violin, huh? In your trousers? 'Cause that's the only way that what I just saw and what you're saying could even possibly correlate," the girl continues, unrelenting in the way she dictates her speech. Barely lets her partner get a word in edge-ways. "No? She not a tiny violin specialist? The rooms aren't that dark, dickhead."

He thinks the tirade is over, but finds himself laughing when he hears, "And not to brag, but my last eye exam went exceptionally well, so don't you dare try and tell me I was seeing shit. Twenty-twenty vision, baby."

It's easy to tell whoever is speaking is deliberating adding a little dramatic flare to their words. Is definitely drunk. Is also definitely not afraid of standing her ground.

Glancing over his shoulder as he stubs out his cigarette, he's surprised to see the girl—you—on the phone instead of confronting someone in person.

In a pretty little party dress, you're just the right combination of hot mess. Even from a fair distance away, he can notice the glitter all over your skin. Not really his type—so different from Hayun—but there's something about you. Something that intrigues him. Makes it hard to look away.

"She could be fuckin' Vivaldi for all I care!" You seethe into your phone. "Does it sound like I give a shit if she's the best in her class? You want me to give her a gold medal or something? Don't piss me off. Prick."

Jeongguk would argue that you're already pissed off. With a tone of voice like that, you must be.

There's a final curse, and then your phone is almost thrown across the front lawn. Almost. You know better. Know that you can't afford to replace the screen if you shatter it. Instead, you have to grit your teeth and scream.

It's only once you finish your venting of frustration that you notice a pair of starry eyes on you.

Raising your brows, you shake your head in his direction. "Can I help?"

And then he fucking laughs. Shrugs. Is pleased to see it makes you smile, too.

"Really hate violin, don't you?"

Shaking your head, far kinder this time, you sigh. "Don't have much of an opinion on them. Not unless it's the strings in the intro of Untouched by The Veronicas. In that case, the violin is the greatest instrument known to man."

"Untouched? The Veronicas?" he laughs, suddenly reminded of a song he hasn't heard in years. "Didn't realise it was still 2005."

"Hey, don't be judgy," you say as you walk towards him, perching down on the curbside, too. "It's a classic."

"Never said it wasn't," he defends, reaching down for his bottle of Jack and offering it over to you. "Boyfriend trouble?"

Shaking your head, you decide that unloading your problems onto a stranger is exactly what this night calls for.

"Girl I've been seeing. Wasn't that serious." Nodding towards the bottle you add, "You first."

"Seemed pretty serious," he mumbles, before swigging down his whiskey. Jack is shit, in his opinion, but it's cheap and it gets the job done. Clearing his throat with a small 'ah', he holds it back over for you to take. "Satisfied?"

You don't vocalise a response—but you do take the bottle from him and ignore the burn as it races down your throat. Of everything you'd choose to drink, Jack Daniels would not be it. You like fruity things. Had been on vodka cranberry juice all night.

"Wasn't serious," you double down, then shrug. "Can't let people think they can get away with bad behaviour, though. Let them do it once, and they'll do it again and again."

It's something you're adamant about. Something you'll do well to remember.

"Anyway, you know why I'm out here like a miserable bitch," you continue as you pass the bottle back. "What brings you here?"

"Something similar."

It's only now that you really take him in for all that he is.

Same age as you, you think, judging by his build. Though his shoulders are broad, he hasn't properly filled out yet—he's trying, though. You can see the definition in his arms. His shoulders. Clearly is trying to shape himself into a man. No longer a teenager, but not really an adult. With eyes like that, though, he'll always look a little younger than he is. His dark hair waves around his features, so casually undone you know he must have put a lot of effort into it. It's sweet.

He tries, and that's more than can be said for most of the boys at the party.

"It doesn't suit you," you tell him.

"Hm?"

"The red lipstick," you nod towards the sheen on his lips. There's a little on his neck, too. His T-shirt is black, but you imagine there's some there, as well. "You'd look better without it."

"It's not mine."

"Guessed as much," you softly smile. "So what, then? Your girlie pissed all over her territory? So no one else would approach you? Then decided she wanted to play elsewhere?"

"Something like that."

"Girlfriend?"

Jeongguk just shrugs. Tells the truth, even if it feels like a lie. "Just friends."

"You kiss all your friends?"

"Just one."

"Ouch," you wince. Friends-with-benefits situations are dumb, you think. Wouldn't ever wanna end up in one. Know they end in unbearable heartbreak. "That's rough."

He nods. Knows how it'll end, too, even if he's been trying to tell himself otherwise.

"Well, we're friends, now," you declare, definitely too drunk to be making good decisions. "You and me. Have bonded over terrible people doing terrible things."

He wants to tell you that Hayun isn't terrible.

Instead, he raises a brow at your fledgling—and fleeting—friendship.

"If she's off making new friends, then maybe you should consider kissing your other friends," you playfully shrug, knowing better than to get involved in a situation like this. "Y'know... make it even."

And Jeongguk is well aware he shouldn't indulge in your flirt, but he's hurting. Wants to feel wanted—and the way you're looking at him? He can't remember the last time Hayun looked at him like that.

The way you see it, you'll never see this man again. You could both do with a little pick-me-up. Confirmation that life goes on, even if the people you date are awful.

A kiss is just a kiss.

Or at least, for now, it is. One day, you'll develop a complex. Blame Seokjin.

But you're yet to meet him. Yet to unlearn all your rules and make far feebler, more pathetic ones in their place.

"Y'know, you're kinda cute," you whisper, edging closer ever so slightly.

"Kinda?" He tweaks a brow, eyes not on yours, but on your lips. There's a little glitter in your gloss. Think maybe it'll suit him better.

"Mhmm," you hum, reaching up to lightly trace your thumb across his bottom lip, ridding him of a little bit of his very own red flag. "Kinda. Never kissed a guy with a lip piercing."

Just a stud, he's only had it a little while. Was trying to make himself look a little older. Sharper. Light from the house catches in it as your thumb pulls back - but Jeongguk pulls closer. Nudges his nose against yours. Holds it there for a second.

"Maybe I should take one for the team," he husks, lips brushing yours. "Just so you know what it's like."

Nodding, you let your nose stroke against his. "You'd be such a good friend if you did."

Lips parted, the end of your sentence grants him permission to sink his lips between yours. Slow as he does so, Jeongguk's scared of fucking it up.

Hasn't kissed anyone that isn't Hayun for months, now. Isn't even sure he knows how to.

And yet as soon as you press down into the kiss, his mind is void of her. Totally blank. Pitch black, until the faintest of stars begin to appear. Sparkle. Shine.

There's a sweetness to you, even despite the whiskey. Maybe it's the cranberry juice. Maybe it's your lip gloss. Jeongguk doesn't have the mental capacity to decipher it, for he can feel your tongue stroking across his bottom lip—and then he's granting permission. Inviting you into his mouth. Stroking his tongue against yours, as if he's in the privacy of the party bathroom—not out front for everyone to see.

Shamelessly, he almost wants Hayun to see—but as quickly as a thought of her intrudes, it's replaced by the way you feel. It makes him pull you closer. Gets him whining into your mouth. Makes you smile.

It's confirmation that there's nothing wrong with you; that the girl you were seeing really was just a dickhead.

Pressing your hand to his chest, you slowly push him away. Are reluctant to finish kissing him. In fact, even as you push him back, your body follows, until you force yourself to pull back.

"There," you smile, a little infatuated with how sparkly his eyes appear. "Now you're even."

"We can make it odd, again, if you want," Jeongguk offers, far bolder than even he realises. Just doesn't wanna stop kissing you. Maybe it's just the whiskey. Yeah. He'll blame it on that.

"That's a bad decision waiting to happen," you laugh, getting to your feet, because you don't trust yourself to stay. "My purpose is served. Friends don't fuck you over. Stop wasting your kisses on people who are gonna fuck you over."

Your message is clear: she's not your friend.

It's a lesson he'll learn far too late in life.

"But you're ditching me?" He says as you begin to walk away. "That's not friendly!"

For a girl who should really be wallowing in self-pity, you're surprisingly chirpy. Jeongguk envies it. Wishes he could stop caring in the way that he does —he just doesn't realise your situationship really was as simple as they're supposed to be. The feelings were yet to fully develop.

If love is a choice—which you think, to a degree, it is—then before it can develop, choices have to be made. Your partner is supposed to choose you. The girl you'd been seeing has just demonstrated that she wouldn't choose you, and so why should you choose her?

Life is simpler before Seokjin; before you really know what it is to love.

Or, to love, and to not be chosen.

To choose, even when you're never chosen.

Sort of like how Jeongguk is, now.

"I'm doing you a favour!" You call back, tipsy smile just as radiant as you seem to be. You're jovial in your tone, and the attitude rubs off on him. Gets him smiling, too. "Saving you from yourself. If I kiss you again, you'll fall in love, baby. They always do!"

The way you jet off is spritely. Happy. Abundantly clear that you're yet to know what heartbreak really feels like.

The girl getting a little too friendly with the star violinist will be long forgotten by the time you meet Jeongguk once again, and so will he. In fact, the scar left by Seokjin manages to mangle just about all of your romantic memories prior to him.

You'll become folklore; a girl Jeongguk doesn't know the name of, but who Hayun is pretty sure is legally named 'Desperate Skank'. Someone they argue about on a few too many occasions. A memory he barely remembers, but in the heat of their drunken fight later that evening became a permanent sticking spot in their situationship.

'Cause while Hayun was off making friends, that's all she was doing. Getting numbers. Getting a little touchy-feely. Getting her ego stroked. Getting zero kisses, because she had been reserving them for him.

Why she was only making friends with six-foot-something muscle pigs with more protein powder in their system than common sense is another thing they'll argue about—but he's the one in the wrong this time, or so she makes sure to tell him.

He'll think of you sometimes. The memory will be hazy. Blurry, like driving down a midnight highway with astigmatism.

He'll think of you, and he'll see stars.

And when he sees you again in the dark of Dionysus a few years later, with no recollection of who you are, his brain will scream at him. Beg him to remember.

He won't.

But he will, inevitably, see stars once more. 

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[chaenniz]

say my name! - hong eunchae

A/N ;; this is so self indulgent of me but like … ANYWAY was listening to this yk 😇

genre ;; fluff

wc ;; 1.7k

the kitchen buzzed with excitement as you and eunchae prepared to bake cookies together while the unnie’s were away for schedules.

flour coated the countertops and the scent of vanilla filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and anticipation.

eunchae's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "i've been wanting to try this recipe for ages. It's going to be amazing, y/n-unnie."

you smiled at her enthusiasm. you felt your stomach being twisted into knots and you didn’t know what was causing your stomach feel like it was doing somersaults.

“yah, i told you not to call me that, i’m only two months older you. you make me feel old.” you wrinkle your nose as you pout.

as you mixed the ingredients, your hands trembled slightly, in contrast to your usually stoic appearance. you stole glances at eunchae, watching her expertly handle the dough, unaware of the emotions swirling within you.

she grinned, a smudge of flour on her cheek. "oops, got a little messy there. guess we're in this together, huh?"

you chuckled, your voice tinged with unknown affection. "yeah, we make quite the team."

while the cookies baked, you took a moment to admire eunchae's infectious laughter and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the different things she wanted to do in leniverse.

finally, the cookies were ready. as you placed them on a cooling rack, eunchae's eyes gleamed with delight. "they look so tasty, let's try one!”

you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "sure."

she took a bite, savoring the taste, her eyes shining with joy. “mm, these are so good! we’re amazing bakers, y/n."

you couldn't help but blush, the praise from eunchae warming your heart. gosh, why were you so flustered today?

as the crumbs settled and the kitchen quieted, you wondered what was making your stomach turn, and heart beat faster? making you had eaten something bad earlier. yes, surely that was the answer.

eunchae's room was bathed in warm, soft light as she and y/n settled down to study. the shelves were lined with books of various subjects, creating an atmosphere that was both cozy and intellectually stimulating.

you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest as you sat across from eunchae at her desk. you admired the way her eyes sparkled with determination, her fingers gently flipping through the pages of her textbook.

there was an air of focus around her that drew you in, making it hard to concentrate on your own studies.

as you both delved into your assignments, your mind kept drifting to eunchae.

you couldn't help but steal glances at her, captivated by the way her brows furrowed in concentration or the way her lips pursed in thought.

it was in those moments that your heart skipped a beat, yet you remained oblivious to the true nature of your feelings.

eunchae looked up from her notes, catching your gaze, and smiled softly. "are you having trouble focusing, y/n-nie?"

you blinked, caught off guard by her question. you blushed slightly, trying to hide your distraction. "oh, no, not at all. just lost in thought for a moment. sorry about that."

eunchae chuckled, her laughter filling the room with warmth. "it's alright. sometimes studying can be a little overwhelming. but we're in this together, so let's help each other stay focused, okay?"

your heart skipped a beat at her words, feeling a surge of gratitude for her presence. you nodded eagerly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "yeah, definitely. thank you, eunchae-ah.”

the two of you kept going at this pace for while, the evening sun casting a golden glow through the window. you both hear a knock on the door before sakura’s head timidly pops out through the open door.

“are you guys ready to eat?” sakura asks, signalling the end of your shared study session.

eunchae excitedly closes her textbook, an action you find unnecessarily cute, you can’t help but giggle.

eunchae’s gaze meets yours, narrowing playfully, “yah, it’s natural to get hungry after studying that much.”

you simply nodded at her, trying to containing your small fit of giggles. eunchae can’t help but start to laugh herself too.

after regaining your composures, eunchae calls for you again, “come on y/n-nie, the food’s gonna get cold!”

a small blush spreads itself across your cheeks, “okay, eunchae-ah.”

eunchae was only saying your name, but how was she able to say it so beautifully?

you, eunchae, and yunjin wandering through the bustling shopping district, enjoying the sights and sounds of the lively atmosphere. you all tried on clothes, shared snacks, and laughed together.

as your group stepped into a charming boutique, eunchae excused herself to browse the accessories section.

yunjin wastes no time and seized the opportunity to engage you in a quiet conversation.

"y/n, can i ask you something?" yunjin's eyes twinkled mischievously.

you nodded, your attention piqued. "sure, unnie. what's on your mind?"

yunjin leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "do you ever feel... something special when you're around eunchae?"

your brows furrowed, perplexed by the question. you haven’t given much thought to your feelings for eunchae, and the idea caught them off guard. you chuckled nervously, thankful for the mask and hat you were wearing because you were sure you were blushing at this point.

"come on, unnie. eunchae and i are just friends. we have a great time together, but it's nothing more than that.”

yunjin tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "oh, i see. well, friends can feel something special too, you know. sometimes, it's more than what meets the eye."

you shrugged, brushing off yunjin’s remark. "nah, we're just really close. like best friends, you know? besides, eunchae is really amazing, but i don't think i have any romantic feelings for her."

yunjin's smile widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “just remember, y/n, feelings can be tricky. sometimes, we don't realize what's in our hearts until someone points it out."

you laughed, playfully nudging yunjin's arm. "you're such a romantic, unnie. always looking for hidden meanings."

yunjin winked and nudged them back. "maybe i am. but just keep an open mind, okay? you never know what surprises the heart may hold."

before you could respond, eunchae rejoined you two, her arms filled with cute accessories she had picked out.

the conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you couldn't help but steal glances at eunchae, admiring her infectious smile and the way she effortlessly lit up her surroundings.

eunchae gently shoved an intricately detailed, silver ring towards you.

"y/n-nie, you have to try this one. it matches your style perfectly!" eunchae exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

caught off guard by eunchae's suggestion, you hesitated for a moment. nonetheless, your curiosity got the best of you, and you held out your hand, allowing eunchae to gently slide the ring onto your finger.

as your finger adorned the delicate silver band, a strange sensation washed over you. your heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth coursed through your veins.

“it looks so good on you, y/n-nie.” eunchae said.

you stared at your hand, your mind in a whirlwind of confusion. you couldn't understand why something as simple as trying on a ring she put on for you and eunchae saying your name could evoke such a profound reaction. yunjin stood off to the side, smirking, watching the cute scene unfold before her eyes.

your gaze shifted from the ring to eunchae, who was watching them intently, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something you couldn't quite place.

"wow, eunchae-ah, it's beautiful," you finally managed to say, your voice filled with a touch of wonder.

eunchae's smile widened, a hint of playfulness dancing in her eyes. "i’m glad you like it, y/n, i instantly thought of you when i saw it.”

your heart fluttered at eunchae’s words. eunchae’s voice had called your name again. what was this feeling that kept appearing whenever she said your name? was yunjin trying to tell you something you didn’t know yourself?

before you could think any further, eunchae drags you to a section where there were even more jewelry.

the days passed like pages turning in a book, each one filled with moments shared between you and eunchae.

as you spent time together, you couldn't help but notice the way she said your name, like a gentle caress that lingered in the air.

it became a secret pleasure, an endearing habit that sent a flutter through your heart.

you were currently rehearsing for your group’s latest comeback, the six of you gathered once again in the all-too familiar dance room.

“let’s take a 10 minute water break!” chaewon called.

you make your way over to the water fountain, silently observing eunchae and the others.

drinking your water, you were deep in thought.

it began innocently enough, during your conversations when you were studying together or while grabbing lunch with the rest of your unnies.

eunchae would sprinkle your name into her sentences, a sweet melody that resonated with you.

you found yourself cherishing those moments, replaying them in your mind long after they happened.

each time eunchae said your name, it was as if she was carving a special place for you in her world, a place where you belonged.

you took notice of the way your name danced on her lips, like a cherished secret she couldn't help but share. the affectionate way she said it, with a hint of warmth and familiarity, made your heart skip a beat.

it became a game, a silent anticipation that kept you on your toes. and every time she did, your heart would swell with a mix of joy and longing.

in the quiet of your own thoughts, you admitted to yourself that you liked it—no, you loved it.

you loved the way eunchae called your name, how it made you feel special and seen.

you were going to make sure you thank yunjin later, because you never would have found out just how much you liked the way eunchae said your name.

A/N ;: part two? maybeee…

[alphabetboyluvr]

A time before DB and JK meet officially where they crossed paths but don't remember or almost but missed each other by seconds. You know, typical kdrama missed meet cutes lol.

🪩 WORDCOUNT | 2.4k 🪩 NOTE FROM HOLLY | so... that thing about me and finding it impossible to write anything short.... yeah that. lmao. this is bd lore in the BEST possible way imo. something that neither of them remember and likely never will. this is set about four years before the events of BD. JK would have been 20-21, and B would have been 21-22 (give or take a year). thank you SO much for this request. i had so much fun with it!!

🪩 BD DRABBLES MASTERPOST 🪩

Jeon Jungkook looks devastatingly pretty with cherry-red lips. Smudged and a little faded, they leave the faintest mark on the end of his cigarette—a bad habit, he knows, but one that he picked up as an excuse to flirt with a girl whose lips are far more crimson than his. 

Of course they are, though. How else would she stain him in evidence of her existence if they weren’t? 

Even when he’s tarnished in her, there’s no evidence of him on her. Nothing to tell new acquaintances to stay away—and Hayun loves making new friends.

A bottle of Jack rests by his feet. Neat. A little lukewarm. Ass perched on the curb outside a house just off campus, he’s in no mood to get himself embroiled in the debauchery he knows his friends are partaking in. Just wants to clear his head. 

Foolishly hopes she’ll do the same. That she’ll notice his absence. That her heart will ache like his currently is. 

In their final year of studies, his friends are all letting loose for the final time before they have to cram for finals. It’s a night of celebration. Of last-chances. Of opportunities that won't present themselves again for a good few lunar orbits.

And so while he may not have the same restrictions, having started his studies a little later than scheduled, he’s been making the most of it with them. 

Quiet kisses hidden from his friends are fun. He likes them. Loves them, even.

But to then watch her very publicly let a guy make moves on her? To make moves back?

Feels fuckin’ awful.

“Oh, you know what?” A voice echoes from the porch of the house behind him. “You can take her violin and shove it up your ass, you ostentatious, pseudo-intellectual prick.” 

It’s a little twisted, but it brings Jungkook comfort to know he isn’t the only one with a shitty excuse for a love life. Knows he shouldn’t listen in—but fuck it.

“Where does she keep her violin, huh? In your trousers? ‘Cause that’s the only way that what I just saw and what you’re saying could even possibly correlate,” the girl continues, unrelenting in the way she dictates her speech. Barely lets her partner get a word in edge-ways. “No? She not a tiny violin specialist? The rooms aren’t that dark, dickhead.” 

He thinks the tirade is over, but finds himself laughing when he hears, “And not to brag, but my last eye exam went exceptionally well, so don’t you dare try and tell me I was seeing shit. Twenty-twenty vision, baby.”

It’s easy to tell whoever is speaking is deliberating adding a little dramatic flare to their words. Is definitely drunk. Is also definitely not afraid of standing her ground.

Glancing over his shoulder as he stubs out his cigarette, he’s surprised to see the girl—you—on the phone instead of confronting someone in person.

In a pretty little party dress, you’re just the right combination of hot mess. Even from a fair distance away, he can notice the glitter all over your skin. Not really his type—so different from Hayun—but there’s something about you. Something that intrigues him. Makes it hard to look away.

“She could be fuckin’ Vivaldi for all I care!” You seethe into your phone. “Does it sound like I give a shit if she’s the best in her class? You want me to give her a gold medal or something? Don’t piss me off. Prick.”

Jungkook would argue that you’re already pissed off. With a tone of voice like that, you must be.

There’s a final curse, and then your phone is almost thrown across the front lawn. Almost. You know better. Know that you can’t afford to replace the screen if you shatter it. Instead, you have to grit your teeth and scream. 

It’s only once you finish your venting of frustration that you notice a pair of starry eyes on you. 

Raising your brows, you shake your head in his direction. “Can I help?”

And then he fucking laughs. Shrugs. Is pleased to see it makes you smile, too. 

“Really hate violin, don’t you?”

Shaking your head, far kinder this time, you sigh. “Don’t have much of an opinion on them. Not unless it’s the strings in the intro of Untouched by The Veronicas. In that case, the violin is the greatest instrument known to man.”

“Untouched? The Veronicas?” he laughs, suddenly reminded of a song he hasn’t heard in years. “Didn’t realise it was still 2005.”

“Hey, don’t be judgy,” you say as you walk towards him, perching down on the curbside, too. “It’s a classic.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he defends, reaching down for his bottle of Jack and offering it over to you. “Boyfriend trouble?”

Shaking your head, you decide that unloading your problems onto a stranger is exactly what this night calls for. 

“Girl I’ve been seeing. Wasn’t that serious.” Nodding towards the bottle you add, “You first.”

“Seemed pretty serious,” he mumbles, before swigging down his whiskey. Jack is shit, in his opinion, but it’s cheap and it gets the job done. Clearing his throat with a small ‘ah’, he holds it back over for you to take. “Satisfied?”

You don’t vocalise a response—but you do take the bottle from him and ignore the burn as it races down your throat. Of everything you’d choose to drink, Jack Daniels would not be it. You like fruity things. Had been on vodka cranberry juice all night.

“Wasn’t serious," you double down, then shrug. "Can’t let people think they can get away with bad behaviour, though. Let them do it once, and they’ll do it again and again." 

It’s something you’re adamant about. Something you’ll do well to remember. 

“Anyway, you know why I’m out here like a miserable bitch,” you continue as you pass the bottle back. “What brings you here?”

“Something similar.”

It’s only now that you really take him in for all that he is. 

Same age as you, you think, judging by his build. Though his shoulders are broad, he hasn’t properly filled out yet—he’s trying, though. You can see the definition in his arms. His shoulders. Clearly is trying to shape himself into a man. No longer a teenager, but not really an adult. With eyes like that, though, he’ll always look a little younger than he is. His dark hair waves around his features, so casually undone you know he must have put a lot of effort into it. It’s sweet. 

He tries, and that’s more than can be said for most of the boys at the party.

“It doesn’t suit you,” you tell him.

“Hm?”

“The red lipstick,” you nod towards the sheen on his lips. There’s a little on his neck, too. His T-shirt is black, but you imagine there’s some there, as well. “You’d look better without it.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Guessed as much,” you softly smile. “So what, then? Your girlie pissed all over her territory? So no one else would approach you? Then decided she wanted to play elsewhere?”

“Something like that.”

“Girlfriend?”

Jungkook just shrugs. Tells the truth, even if it feels like a lie. “Just friends.”

“You kiss all your friends?”

“Just one.”

“Ouch,” you wince. Friends-with-benefits situations are dumb, you think. Wouldn’t ever wanna end up in one. Know they end in unbearable heartbreak. “That’s rough.”

He nods. Knows how it’ll end, too, even if he’s been trying to tell himself otherwise.

“Well, we’re friends, now,” you declare, definitely too drunk to be making good decisions. “You and me. Have bonded over terrible people doing terrible things.”

He wants to tell you that Hayun isn’t terrible.

Instead, he raises a brow at your fledgling—and fleeting—friendship. 

“If she’s off making new friends, then maybe you should consider kissing your other friends,” you playfully shrug, knowing better than to get involved in a situation like this. “Y’know… make it even.”

And Jungkook is well aware he shouldn’t indulge in your flirt, but he’s hurting. Wants to feel wanted—and the way you’re looking at him? He can’t remember the last time Hayun looked at him like that.

The way you see it, you’ll never see this man again. You could both do with a little pick-me-up. Confirmation that life goes on, even if the people you date are awful.

A kiss is just a kiss. 

Or at least, for now, it is. One day, you’ll develop a complex. Blame Seokjin.

But you’re yet to meet him. Yet to unlearn all your rules and make far feebler, more pathetic ones in their place.

“Y’know, you’re kinda cute,” you whisper, edging closer ever so slightly. 

“Kinda?” He tweaks a brow, eyes not on yours, but on your lips. There’s a little glitter in your gloss. Think maybe it’ll suit him better.

“Mhmm,” you hum, reaching up to lightly trace your thumb across his bottom lip, ridding him of a little bit of his very own red flag. “Kinda. Never kissed a guy with a lip piercing.”

Just a stud, he’s only had it a little while. Was trying to make himself look a little older. Sharper. Light from the house catches in it as your thumb pulls back - but Jungkook pulls closer. Nudges his nose against yours. Holds it there for a second.

“Maybe I should take one for the team,” he husks, lips brushing yours. “Just so you know what it’s like.”

Nodding, you let your nose stroke against his. “You’d be such a good friend if you did.”

Lips parted, the end of your sentence grants him permission to sink his lips between yours. Slow as he does so, Jungkook’s scared of fucking it up.

Hasn’t kissed anyone that isn’t Hayun for months, now. Isn’t even sure he knows how to.

And yet as soon as you press down into the kiss, his mind is void of her. Totally blank. Pitch black, until the faintest of stars begin to appear. Sparkle. Shine.

There’s a sweetness to you, even despite the whiskey. Maybe it’s the cranberry juice. Maybe it’s your lip gloss. Jungkook doesn’t have the mental capacity to decipher it, for he can feel your tongue stroking across his bottom lip—and then he’s granting permission. Inviting you into his mouth. Stroking his tongue against yours, as if he’s in the privacy of the party bathroom—not out front for everyone to see. 

Shamelessly, he almost wants Hayun to see—but as quickly as a thought of her intrudes, it’s replaced by the way you feel. It makes him pull you closer. Gets him whining into your mouth. Makes you smile.

It’s confirmation that there’s nothing wrong with you; that the girl you were seeing really was just a dickhead.

Pressing your hand to his chest, you slowly push him away. Are reluctant to finish kissing him. In fact, even as you push him back, your body follows, until you force yourself to pull back. 

“There,” you smile, a little infatuated with how sparkly his eyes appear. “Now you’re even.”

“We can make it odd, again, if you want,” Jungkook offers, far bolder than even he realises. Just doesn’t wanna stop kissing you. Maybe it’s just the whiskey. Yeah. He’ll blame it on that. 

“That’s a bad decision waiting to happen,” you laugh, getting to your feet, because you don’t trust yourself to stay. “My purpose is served. Friends don’t fuck you over. Stop wasting your kisses on people who are gonna fuck you over.”

Your message is clear: she’s not your friend. 

It’s a lesson he’ll learn far too late in life.

“But you’re ditching me?” He says as you begin to walk away. “That’s not friendly!”

For a girl who should really be wallowing in self-pity, you’re surprisingly chirpy. Jungkook envies it. Wishes he could stop caring in the way that he does —he just doesn’t realise your situationship really was as simple as they’re supposed to be. The feelings were yet to fully develop.

If love is a choice—which you think, to a degree, it is—then before it can develop, choices have to be made. Your partner is supposed to choose you. The girl you’d been seeing has just demonstrated that she wouldn’t choose you, and so why should you choose her?

Life was simpler before Seokjin; before you really knew what it was to love. 

Or, to love, and to not be chosen. 

To choose, even when you’re never chosen.

Sort of like how Jungkook is, now.

“I’m doing you a favour!” You call back, tipsy smile just as radiant as you seem to be. You're jovial in your tone, and the attitude rubs off on him. Gets him smiling, too. “Saving you from yourself. If I kiss you again, you’ll fall in love, baby. They always do!”

The way you jet off is spritely. Happy. Abundantly clear that you’re yet to know what heartbreak really feels like. 

The girl getting a little too friendly with the star violinist will be long forgotten by the time you meet Jungkook once again, and so will he. In fact, the scar left by Seokjin manages to mangle just about all of your romantic memories prior to him. 

You’ll become folklore; a girl Jungkook doesn’t know the name of, but who Hayun is pretty sure is legally named ‘Desperate Skank’. Someone they argue about on a few too many occasions. A memory he barely remembers, but in the heat of their drunken fight later that evening became a permanent sticking spot in their situationship. 

‘Cause while Hayun was off making friends, that’s all she was doing. Getting numbers. Getting a little touchy-feely. Getting her ego stroked. Getting zero kisses, because she had been reserving them for him.

Why she was only making friends with six-foot-something muscle pigs with more protein powder in their system than common sense is another thing they’ll argue about—but he’s the one in the wrong this time, or so she makes sure to tell him.

He’ll think of you sometimes. The memory will be hazy. Blurry, like driving down a midnight highway with astigmatism. 

He’ll think of you, and he’ll see stars.

And when he sees you again in the dark of Dionysus a few years later, with no recollection of who you are, his brain will scream at him. Beg him to remember. 

He won’t.

But he will, inevitably, see stars once more.

[hannahssimblr]

“...into the hedge man, the whole packet.”

“Wait, what, are you serious? Why did she do that?”

“Because she didn’t want Megan smoking them, or something. She said they made some promise not to.”

“Man, what the fuck, and did someone fish them out?”

I take a lazy bite of my boring lunch. Some chicken roll I bought down at the nearest deli. It’s a three euro deal for this and a can of coke, which I never drink. I’ll give it to Breener as usual. 

He’s speaking to me now, “Did you see this happen, Turner?”

“No,” Murphy interjects, smacking the back of his hand against the other boy’s chest, “Turner was up in Katie’s bedroom riding Alison the whole time.”

“Ohh, Alison…” All the guys start nudging each other and chortling into their sleeves, “Busy busy as usual… Man, Breener, did you see that Nick Dunne took a load of pictures of himself trying on a heap of bras from Katie’s sister's room? Aw, like, it was so funny like, we were all-”

I spy Jen coming out of the front entrance of the school and I quickly abandon the lads to jog over to her.

“What’s up Jenny?”

“Nothing much, Judie, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Hanging out with the rugby boys, I see. Discussing art history and literature as usual?”

I grin, “Not every conversation has to be all deep and intellectual, c’mon.”

“Well, whatever it was must have been so exciting, huh? Is that why you’ve legged it over to me as soon as I’ve appeared?”

“No, I just felt like having lunch with you today.”

She rolls her eyes and begins to stroll across the yard while I hope along in her trail, “Well I’m having lunch with Michelle and the horrible greasy emos by the back steps today, so fair warning.”

“That’s fine, I’ll come.”

She shrugs. 

“Where were you until now?”

“Counsellor.”

“Oh yeah? How’s it going?”

She sighs, “Okay. She keeps insisting I talk about my mother, for some reason, which, why would I want to do that? My mother is completely uninteresting… and she says I have to stop smoking weed, can you believe that?”

I blink, “Did you admit that you’re still smoking weed?”

“No! She just seems to know it, I don’t know, do I smell like it?”

I grab her arm and take a very un-subtle sniff of her blazer, “No, you smell like Jen.”

“Huh. Well maybe she has little creepy binoculars and she stands looking through the bars at me when I’m smoking in the park.”

“Yeah, that’s the most likely scenario.”

“I don’t know, sometimes it feels like a waste of time.”

“You don’t feel like it’s helping at all?”

“Helping what?”

I hesitate uncomfortably, “Um, well, you know, with your family and your mental health stuff and, like-”

“The drug stuff?” She finishes, “This horrible, problematic relationship I apparently have? No, firstly, I think I’m fine. Actually, I think you do drugs more than I do these days, and secondly, my mental health is okay. I’m getting through stuff on my own, I wish that they’d stop insisting I go to the sessions and wasting half of my lunch hour asking probing questions about what it was like for me to be a child.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s about the volume or the frequency of the drugs,” I say carefully, “I think it’s about your relationship with them.”

“Yeah, but there isn’t anything weird about my relationship with them. I’m the same as you, I can stop any time I like.”

I pull back as she’s using her agitated voice. Her nostrils are flared and her eyebrows are stitched together in the middle so that I can be aware that if I don’t stop trying to talk about this then she and I will have a bicker fest in the middle of the school yard. “Yeah you’re dead right. Sorry.”

“My friends are over here,” she jabs a thumb over her shoulder, “Are you coming or not?”

When we approach the emos they look perplexed, and they don’t need to say it, I can see it on their faces as they watch me make bold strides to join them on the steps. What is he doing here? 

I wedge myself between Evan and some girl with pink hair and a stud in each cheek like little metal dimples and then, ignoring the dark, hateful aura of the collective group I unwrap what’s left of my chicken roll and lay into it. “What’s up guys?” I say with a full mouth, “Hope it’s okay that I sit here.”

“Um, yeah,” Evan says. I don’t miss the look he exchanges with the pink haired girl on my other side, but I pretend to.

“Jude had enough of hanging out with the boys from his rugby team,” Jen explains, “So I invited him to sit with us,” The way she speaks to them is authoritative, with finality, as if she won’t hear anything else about the matter. She swiftly moves onto the next topic while I peer over my shoulder and wiggle my fingers at Michelle who smiles back and raises a limp hand in greeting.

“So Michelle and I were thinking about having a movie night, would you guys be up for it?”

A ripple of approval goes through the little group of stairway lurking emos. 

“I suggested Saturday,” Michelle says, “because it’s my parents' anniversary or some shit. They’re going out for dinner so we would have the whole place to ourselves.”

I can’t help but speak, “Wow, I thought you guys would be up to something more nefarious on a Saturday night than huddled up watching a movie together, honestly,” I’m not trying to be mean or anything, it’s an honest statement. It’s a bit hard for me to imagine this collection of misfits, all with at least one piece of metal in their face sitting around eating popcorn in the Tengu’s pastel blue living room. 

Jen is the only one that laughs, “Yeah, we occasionally take a break from sucking the blood of civilians to hang out and watch Sleepy Hollow. You’re invited, by the way, if you’re not doing whatever rugby wankers do, like tossing a frisbee around and doing jager bombs.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, I wasn't going to sit here and make plans in front of your face otherwise.”

Jen is the only one that looks comfortable with this decision, so I’m on the point of telling her that I’ve already made plans to try and blag my way into another city centre nightclub before I realise how repelled I am by that very idea. I consider those sticky floors and the bad music, the hangover I’ll have and eventually I think about Doherty and the inevitable horrors he’ll inflict upon me if I don’t get back into shape. Suddenly a film with the emos doesn’t seem like the worst way to spend a Saturday night. 

“Okay, yeah. I’d love to come.”

Evan glances at me incredulously but I just smile in response and bump him with my shoulder, “We’ll have fun, right?”

He flashes the ghost of a smile,  “Yeah, I suppose.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[a-cup-of-earl-grey-please]

Mastermind (A Songfic | BBC Sherlock x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 1,797 words

Pairing: BBC Sherlock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Truly a mastermind, Sherlock outsmarts himself and you; at least he thinks so. How will he ask you out, though?

Warning: first fic on tumblr (aka crappy writing/formatting), if you squint really hard with the hubble telescope—the tiniest bit of stalking, just basically fluff though

Gunshots rang through the room as the yellow smiley face on the wall was punctured in its left cheek once again. Sherlock was bored out of his mind. His mind was like a television—flashing with hundreds of different channels at the same time. Yet, none of them interested him. 

He could hear John’s habitual limp, along with the slight thump of his walking cane, but another pair of shoes—heels, he noted—were hitting the floor as well. Giggling and oh-so-obviously chippy, you emerged first into his flat, John at your heels. Sherlock kept his head low, still running his fingers over his gun. You were probably John’s new date—whatever, nothing new.

The giggles stopped, and Sherlock felt something disappear from his mind—a small hollow hole was left. 

He looked up. What Sherlock saw was nothing short of magnificent. The girl—or woman, should he say—John brought today was definitely not a supermodel, but there was this strange charm around you that brought him to stand up. Except he only did that—stood up and froze like an idiot. 

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates

And all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room

At the same time

“Erm, Sherlock, I’d like to-” John pointedly said after a few seconds. 

“Oh, John, let me introduce myself—I am very capable of that.” You laughed a little, and Sherlock felt that missing something come back into his mind, full of warmth. He only watched as you approached him confidently.

You stuck your hand out, and Sherlock grasped it—a bit too earnestly, he realized. 

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

Of a chain reaction of countermoves

To assess the equation of you

The first thing he deduced: you were not dating John. John had a habit of rubbing his thumb over the back of his girlfriend’s hand. However, to his confused delight, Sherlock could feel the residue of hand cream—obviously applied to avoid the November weather in London affecting your soft skin—on the back of your hand. 

The second thing he noticed? Your hand felt so—what’s the word?—nice in his hand. His mind went a million miles per hour after that realization: you were working an office job that was obviously not satisfying your intellectual desires, your boss was an absolute cock, and you seemed to enjoy Sherlock’s presence. 

That last one caught him off guard.

“Y/N, John’s friend from uni. Nice to meet you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” 

He let go of your hand, still dazed by his last piece of deduction. The moment you let go, he knew he couldn’t wait to feel it again. He wondered why.

“Y/N?” He tested out your name—he liked how it felt on his lips. “Call me Sherlock, please.” 

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

They did that several times, with a success rate of approximately 73% of seeing you—oh, the conversations you two had were magical and almost dreamy for Sherlock. You offered great insight into frustrating cases, and you had a collection of random facts that he could listen to for hours. You came over to his flat sometimes, giving excuses about something you read in the news about Sherlock or something, just to stay for hours talking with him. One time you two talked about the history of dish soap and how it affects what parts of their hands people dry with a towel after doing the dishes—leading him to a victorious solution to a serial killer case a few minutes afterward.

And of course, on this random Tuesday, Sherlock and John were at your favorite cafe again, strategically near your lunch break. 

“Oh hey, Sherlock—and John.” You hastily added John, as if your eyes had simply glazed over poor John. “Didn’t expect to see you two here again, huh. I mean-” You approached them with your signature grin. John stood up to get another chair for you, cheerfully muttering about bloody coincidences. 

What if I told you none of it was accidental

And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me?

A smug smile crept up on Sherlock, only to quickly drop when he saw the coffee stain on your blouse. 

“Who did that?” He quietly interrupted. His eyes were transfixed upon that small stain.

“What?” Your eyes dropped down to the stain he was staring at. “Oh, that was my boss, but it was a mistake.” You said hastily, as you sat down. He saw your smile falter, however, as if you were insecure all day about the stain.

“No, it wasn’t. The shape of the stain is too lopsided for an accident that happened because of the sudden loss of balance. He just wanted to humiliate you. Look at where he spilled it. Almost strategically right in the middle of your—ehem—chest.” He cursed internally as he felt himself blush slightly as he said the word chest—hell, he might as well be a schoolboy with a crush. 

Before you could escape your shock, he offered: “Why don’t we get you a new blouse, a better one, just to spite him? To show him that it does not affect you.” John stared at him as if Sherlock suggested that they take Mrs. Hudson to a nightclub. Sherlock Holmes never volunteered to go shopping with someone—especially not for someone.

“Oh, but my lunch break ends in a few minutes. Thanks for offering though. It’s all right, I guess.” You gave him a little smile—which did not reach your pretty eyes, he noticed—and stood up to leave. Sherlock froze, his mind going faster than ever. Without even realizing that John, confused as always, said goodbye to you without him, Sherlock sat there, thinking.

I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

“John, come on. We’re getting Ms. Y/L/N a new blouse because her boss is an absolute jerk to her. We can’t let that get to her head, can we?” Sherlock abruptly stood up, pulled his coat on, and left the cafe. John hurriedly caught up with him, carrying two coffees behind him, sarcastically grumbling about how Sherlock had once thought sentiment was a loser’s virtue. Sherlock dismissed the implications his statements had. 

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

In the bitter cold of London, Sherlock thought: Why was he doing this? What was going on? Was this—god forbid—love? Was he in—it hurt him to say the word—love? After interacting with you for less than three months? Sherlock lied to himself, pretending to think hard. No matter how hard he thought about you, the answer to those questions was clear.

“John, I’m in love.” He turned to John, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

John promptly dropped a coffee, and the other one dripped onto his beige jumper. Even in that situation, Sherlock proudly noted that his mental simulation about coffee stains had pinpoint accuracy.

“With Y/N, I presume?” John asked, exasperatedly attempting to get the stain out of his jumper. 

“Yes, and intentionally so, I must admit.” Sherlock realized his mind had known all along that you were the one. He had absentmindedly figured out where you worked and your favorite cafe just so that he could fall in love with you. That bastard brain.

“So you dragged me along to this cafe three times a week, which coincidentally happened to be Y/N’s favorite as well?” John laughed, resigned. “You absolute bastard, you planned to fall in love with someone?” John asked incredulously as he absentmindedly followed Sherlock into a women’s clothing store. “So I was a blind idiot who just came along to your potential dates?”

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

“Yes, and what do you think of this one?” Sherlock held up a peach-colored blouse. He knew your size, because of that one time you left your jacket on his sofa. His mind palace had immediately dedicated a whole room just for you, since the first time you two had met.

He had truly outsmarted himself. He had truly, once and for all, planned something without consciously planning, outsmarted himself without thinking, and fallen in love with someone without even registering a hint of romance in his mind. If he wasn’t dazed by this revelation, he would have been laughing for once.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

To make them love me and make it seem effortless

“Wrap it as a gift, please.” Sherlock said, as he approached the cashier with his credit card. “Oh, and throw in a card, please? I could also use a  pen as well—if you don’t mind.” John threw him a strange look.

This is the first time I've felt the need to confess

And I swear

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care

So I told you none of it was accidental

And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me

His small note wrote—hidden inside the gift box: 

“A date. 5 o’clock, Friday. Your favorite cafe. Just me and you. 

-SH 

P.S. I must admit, I planned all the coincidental meetings we had so far. Forgive me.” 

You had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing out loud. First of all, that note was just so purely Sherlock—except for the “forgive me” part. Secondly, of course, you knew already! Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday—John and Sherlock were at that cafe. That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it? 

I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk

On your face, you knew the entire time

You knew that I'm a mastermind

You texted Sherlock: “Not the cafe again, I’ve had more than enough of that in the past two months you’ve been pursuing me. Angelo’s at 6 o’clock. Let’s have dinner. I won’t let you plan our first date as well. I’ve played along nicely for long enough.” 

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

Sherlock smiled with a warm glow of happiness as he heard the long-awaited ding from his phone.

And obviously, the night ended in a shy little peck on your lips from your new boyfriend.

‘Cause I’m a mastermind.

[konstantintreplev]

wip wednesday?

debated what to post, but this max moment in the lhbg sequel [untitled, languishing] seems fitting today.

On Monday morning, the duty clerk stops him on his way to his shared office with Morse. “Oh, Sergeant Lewis — you received a call Friday afternoon when you were out.” The woman holds a note with a message on it, and Robbie takes it, his heart sinking when he reads the hastily written message. M. DeBryn… nurse called. Said to come soon. Not much time left.

Robbie is at Max’s nice old home in a hurry, noting his garden needs a bit of tending; it is October, but it isn’t like the doctor to let weeds takeover. He knocks on the door a little too gently, almost afraid to see his favorite of the department’s pathologists so frail. He needn’t have been; Max, despite clutching a cane and wearing a line for oxygen under his nose, swings open the door with gusto.

“Why, Robert, I was wondering when you would make it over. He finally let you go for the day, huh? Come in, come in.” Max shuffles towards his sitting room, and Robbie realizes he’s never seen the man not impeccably dressed, and the case holds true today. He’s wearing an ornate robe, plush slippers, and improbably, a bow tie.

“I got your nurse’s message—”

“Nurse?! That was me. I thought it’d get you over here faster.”

“So you’re not…”

“Dying?” Max lets out a cough with a shudder. “Of course I’m dying. We all are, my boy. Morse is dying, too. He just refuses to get an official diagnosis.”

...

“I know he loved Fred Thursday, that he lost the man, that he went through the motions for fifteen years until you showed up, and while I had him off and on that entire time, the Morse I met back in 1965 and worked alongside for seven years was an entirely bloody different person after Thursday left. I love Morse, Robbie, and so do you. He did a piss poor job of ensuring this remained a secret, and if his legacy is going to mean anything, it has to remain a secret.” Max hisses that last part out, and Robbie just nods. “I’m planning on calling him to have goodbye drinks in a few days, and I won’t be telling him any of this. This is in your court, Detective Sergeant.”

Robbie slumps back in his chair, feeling both conscious of looking overwhelmed in front of Max and suspecting that’s exactly what the little ailing pathologist wants. “I don’t know if I care about him as much as you do, sir.”

Max laughs again, less strangled this time, more of a giggle. “Morse was fun for me, a good time— we could match wits. But I could never rise to his need for hopeless romanticism, for emotional rigor as well as intellectual. Only one man I knew could ever match him at his highs and his lows. I bore witness to it a few times, actually. Had to yell at them both—”

“Thursday.”

“Yes, yes. I assume Mrs. Strange noted the… odd resemblance between you two. Not physical, but—”

Robbie just nods, a familiar, queasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He was starting to find himself feeling squeamish about these things, not to mention that if Morse really had fallen in love with Thursday, a man who the sole surviving Thursday had said Robbie reminded her of… then Morse, perhaps, had fallen in love with him, too.

And he wasn’t opposed to poor, lonely Morse having some kind of emotional fulfillment on most grounds, other than—

“Did you know, that like Thursday, when you’re thinking about things that bother you, your face is no good at hiding it?” Max smiles at him fondly, and it isn’t one of the smiles Max would so often throw at people to get them to leave him alone — it’s an honest-to-god, you poor damned sod smile. “I’m not going to say anything about any of what we discussed to him. I won’t even say you visited me.”

Max walks him to the door, despite Robbie’s own protests that Max should rest.

“Thank you, Robert,” he just says, smile now sadder than before. “You’re a good lad.”

It’s the last time Robbie Lewis sees Max DeBryn alive.

[idv-news-boi]

//Rosalyn’s Offline { EVENT: 3N1GM4 Act 3}

'Dear Matriarch Camellia…'

"Found you!" A cheerful exclaims with victory. Cueing Specialist mode Kitty vessel successfully finding the object Specialist Hana was looking for and hands it to her. Who softly smiles at her in relief.

A doll that resembles Riddle Rosehearts- one that matches with the 4 dolls Hana has been holding. Carefully laid deep in the bed of crimson roses, hidden in one of the manor's gardens.

'Our stay has long overdue- I heard that the Rosalyn vessel has gone missing in involuntary circumstances… The pattern of an object going missing and once it's found----- it costs one person to go missing instead.'

Hana looks back from her messaging journal to see Kitty thanking Heifu a lot— surprisingly, they seem to get along so well despite just meeting recently.

'Would it be a loop? A coincidence?'

Hana then finishes wiring before grabbing her journal with her– she catches a glance of Chiaki passing by Heifu and Kitty, so she rushes her way to catch up to the group. Now finally holding by the hands with her dear red-handed friend before departing for the next byt last match.

'Whatever the less, I hope you search for the memories you're looking for…

Will suffice eventually.'

{Event// Twisted Reflection Completed}

__

'10 fishes in the tank… 3 died, 2 swam away, and 4 have drowned.'

Mira huffs, "Do i really have to say that all 10 are still in the tank..? Also, they don't drown– drowning means when being immersed in liquid after all! However, they can suffocate when fresh water does not contain enough dissolved oxygen – either as a result of eutrophication (an excess of nutrients) or droug-"

Axel can only glance at his partner and nods, quietly listening.

"...Right."

If Edward is here with, he would be saying that "everyone in the Dyanthus' group all know that since we all were forced to pass marine biology fair and square without wasting more time to explain"- but Axel is peaceful and calm enough to offer the biologist the patience during such strange situation.

The two intellectuals just found a riddle with the signature D.E…. Which is something they have known for quite some time due to demands from wanted posters; the 3N1GM4.

However- even feeling a small petal of Rosalyn's connection getting yanked out of them. They don't know that Enigma's questionable arrival at the manor is connected to her disappearance.

—

Everyone including Kitty was in the room. They eventually found the next riddle right from one of the kitchen cabinets. Edward adjusts his monocle before reading the note in his hand,

'Each morning I appear to lie at your feet. All day I will follow no matter how fast you run, yet I nearly perish in the midday sun.'

…

" …A shadow." Axel says.

Everyone quickly look behind them, even at one another—

Laurence looks behind, only to notice something.

"Ah, dudes??? Where's Akihiko-…?"

…

No response.

“Oh no, they got him now-“ Mira mutters in concern, but also in suspicion.

“I’m back-“

Everyone twists their heads to see Akihiko right next to Edward, holding a basket. They sign in relief.

“BLOODY-“ Edward starts- “Can you stop scaring me???”

“Oh- Gomenasai,,,” The Japanese apologizes, half confused as Eiji shows up next to Akihiko. “I was trying to bring back some snacks with Sage.””

“Oh! Thanks.” Laurence exclaims happy before taking an apple from Akihiko’s snack basket, “Yum,,,, I cannot starve but this juicy fruit is edible for me anyway-“

“Wait- where did you get that apple from…?” Angel asks, arching an eyebrow seeing at the apple.

“From the fridge,” Eiji starts, but then realizes something “Wait a minute,,, I remember the fridge was having a shortage of fruits- The only one who supplies them is Rosal-“

Right after Eiji says that, Edward faints, dropping the said fruit.

“…” Laurence goes silent, being the one who offered the apple instead, “…Oh sh*t.”

“HUH???” Kitty gasps. She kneels down to check up on the inventor as Eiji tries to find the pulse of the unconscious one.

“Oh- eh,,, he’s still breathing,” Eiji wafts at the apple, identifying that the chemical is not exactly too deadly “Yep- he just got drugged.”

“Oh geez,,,,” Kitty says as she sweats lightly, “That was close- I thought he was dead…”

“Should I-“ before Laurence could suggest as a joke, Angel stares back at the blonde gentleman in unamusement.

“No, don’t suggest that Disney kiss scene-“

“Pew,,, party pooper-“

“But anyway- This must be a trap that is trying to get in the way…” Angel explains, looking at the basket, “I think we shall not take anything from the fridge and get rid of it at all costs until we solve this problem- unless you want to fall into his plan…”

“Yeah, I can see that..-“

Akihiko sees the fruit and carefully picks it up, noticing something inside it through the bite taken.

“I think there’s a paper in this apple-“

“???”

Kitty hops towards Akihiko and unhesitatingly takes the paper out, making the Japanese nervously glance at the Italian-American chocolatier’s courageous action. She reads out loud with her cat smile.

'In 1613, a man was found dead with a cassette recorder in one hand and a gun in the other.

When the police came in, they immediately pressed the play button on the cassette.

He said "I have nothing else to live for. I can't go on," then the sound of a gunshot.

After listening to the cassette tape, the police knew that it was not a suicide, but a homicide.

How did they know?'

Laurence lifts his brow a bit, "the man shot himself while he was recording, how did he rewind the cassette tape?"

"So who murdered him..?" Angel asks, looking for more clues.

"Probably the police." Kitty starts, shrugging a bit as she’s a police officer herself. "The first ever police force in the world started from the period 1624-1664 in the Dutch era."

"... Cassette tapes were not even invented yet."

"So is the police, he must be from the future."

"... A time traveler."

Laurence starts, chuckling silently looking at the said unconscious inventor who’s carried by Eiji, "Oh Edward… What a coincidence-"

__

{Next Riddle}

'A wealthy man lived alone in a small cottage. Because he was in a wheelchair, he had everything delivered to his cottage.

The mailman was delivering mail one Thursday when he noticed that the front door was ajar. Through the opening he could see the man’s body lying in a pool of dried blood. When a police officer arrived, he surveyed the scene. On the porch were two bottles of warm milk, Monday’s newspaper, a catalog, flyers, and there was unopened mail in the mailbox. The police officer suspects it was foul play. Who does he suspect and why? P.S. Calico and Incognito cannot answer this, she knows too much-‘ Axel reads in his deep voice, silently looking at the pouty said chocolatier.

“How unfair,,~!” Kitty frowns.

"The police officer suspects the newspaper delivery person." Angel answers without doubt.

"Why..?" Mira asks, puzzled. She was really suspecting the milkman bc sometimes, milkmen are pretty sus, just like in the horror games/ih/j/ref

"The absence of Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s newspaper indicates that the delivery person knew no one was going to read it." Akihiko explains.

.

.

.

.

“Where’s Incognito?” Angel asks, noticing the unusual silence since the P.S. note-

—

"You're not a human, nor an animal," 3N1GM4 claims , "You're just like god… a goof and a sadist with no real man heart!"

The villain vessel pops in a few feet in front of the new reporter, who happens to be separated from the group for a bit as he was inspecting the halls for more clues. Only to bump into who he’s been looking for.

Huh… this is too easy to be true. Even if the said gangster is bringing a gun in hand.

As Laurence also points his sheriff gun at the villain, he is also bringing a smirk just as dark.

This cued the “dispute between gentlemen” to begin-

"No, sir." The blonde man politely doubts after only 10 minutes of aiming at the gangster while already making a number on the other, "I'm no god, nor a devil, nor a human… But I'm not a machine either… Not anymore."

Laurence's eyes trace around the room cautiously before continuing.

"I am a ✨ Prometheus,,✨ while you're just…. Some criminal mind with god complex."

As the blondie’s voice waves into silk in the start, it also falters through the end of it. His smile is not changing yet his half-lidded eyes have no need to use muscle for the other to imagine him rolling his own peepers smoothly.

Seeing the Reporter just mindlessly approaching Rosalyn, taking out some sticky sphere and placing it next to the lock.

“What are you- hey- no- don’t put it- STOP INSERTING THAT INTO MY MACHINE-“ Enigma warns.

Heck, Laurence does it anyway. Making the said sphere hack into the lock and releasing the unconscious but trembly doll. The American manages to catch her in time, before adjusting to a bridal style carry with one hand as he makes his way to the exit. Just that- 🧐

“YOU SON OF A-“ Before the villain can run in and lunge at the glasses man.

He couldn’t able to pull the trigger on his gun, so his face was met by a punch done with Laurence’s unoccupied hand.

“You shouldn’t take someone else’s doll, kiddo~”

___

“…So. You found her.” Angel squints as he sees Laurence coming back with a half-conscious Rosalyn.

“Yep~!♥️” Laurence optimistically responds before planting a small kiss on the pretty Puppeteer’s forehead, as if she was the reward he was looking for.

“And… him?”

“I managed to send the vessel back to the city.”

“Good,” Angel’s stressed features seem to soften, but still squinting from seeing the reporter’s unusual lovey dovey behavior, “Ew… Just get back to work-! I’ll take care of her.” He finally gets to carry his cousin away from any other men after all- back into his caring brother demeanor./ih

[urfavouritegirlie]

Chapter 7

Aaron POV

Did I mention the I'm acting like a complete fool. Not once have I ever frozen over like this. I force myself to answer her question.

"I'm doing good."

"That's good."

The next thing that comes out of my mouth is out my control. I wasn't thinking at all. It's like brain went into auto pilot.

"I missed you."

She gives her sweet smile.

"I missed you too."

She then goes from looking at me to behind me.

"Oh my goodness, is that MILES?"

And with that her attention shifts to Miles. I turn to them.

"Oh jeez, you have grown so much. Look at you, you're a young man now. How are doin?"

"I'm doing good actually. It's nice to see you again but how is work?"

"Ugh so busy but not anymore. I have decided to move back here in New York. I can still work here. Travelling is fun but exhausting."

Did I hear that correctly. She's moving back. Yeah, but for how long. It's like I'm intellectually linked with my nephew right now because he asks her the question I've been thinking.

"For how long?"

"Oh for good. I missed everyone here."

"Maya, have you eaten? I know you had a long flight and plane food is tasteless." Rio drags Maya to the tables filled with food and serves her a plate.

"Yooo uncle Aaron, what happened man? I thought you were gonna put your rizz game on. She had you stuttering." Miles laughs at me.

"Man hush."

People continue as they were, dancing and eating. Maya and Rio are talking their girl talk. Jeff is still barbecuing and Miles had probably ran off to his room with his other cousins.

"So Maya, what are the men around the world like?"

This hooks mine and Jeff attention. The whole place is on mute but their convo. I look at Jeff and he's facing that table too. We are close enough to hear their talk but not to be noticed.

"Gurl, I seen em all. Especially the rich ones. Let me tell you something. As a global estate agent I have seen all kinds of celebrities. Ive sold places to artists, actors, athletes, models, CEO's and top business people . Rappers especially. You know how they like to flaunt their money."

"Tell me."

"So, you know 50 cent right?"

"You met 50 cent? Do tell."

Are you kidding me right now? Freakin' 50 cent? For a winter in Brooklyn, it's getting pretty warm right now. I want to hear the story but not at the same time.

"Yeah, I sold him a villa in the Bahamas. I was showing him the place and he was being a flirt the whole time. He said he brought the place because a fine woman showed him around. He even asked me to be one of his video babes and act as his wifey in his music video."

I'm so close to walking out and gearing up in my suit and hunting the man down.

"Well what did you say?"

"I said nah."

"HUH WHY?"

"Because....... I told him that I already have a man. Chile you know rappers, they just wanna get in your pants."

There's a warm feeling in my heart when she says that. I relax back in my seat.

"Aww look at you. He's got you starstruck."

I can hear someone approach me from behind.

"You almost had her stollen from you by 50 cent, personally I don't think I would recover from that." Jeff says.

"Don't try it man."

Maya's loyalty to me was beyond my mind. I mean I would do the same by probably rejecting Beyoncé or something. She's amazing and talented and all but she just wasn't Maya. I honesty don't see what she sees in me.

The day seems to come to an end with people going home and the sun disappearing with them. The rooftop is illuminated with fairy light and many light bulbs. From where I am sitting I can see Maya yawn. Jet-lag must be catching up for her.

"I didn't see you come with any luggage. Just your handbag."

"Oh yeah about that, my stuff is in another state. The baggage handlers put everyones luggage in the wrong plane. I'll probably get it delivered tomorrow or the day after. It's really annoying, I had some presents for people."

"Are you kidding me, you making it for Christmas is a present its self especially for a certain someone."

Maybe I should stop eavesdropping on Maya and Rio's conversation.

"How could I not, after you told me about Miles and Aaron talking about me, I had to come back." She turns around her seat to look at me and wink. I swear Miles has a big mouth sometimes but at least it made her come over.

Now it’s dark and some people have left. Meanwhile Maya and Rio were in the kitchen finishing up some dishes.

"Ok, we are finished. There was a lot of stuff to wash. I guess this goodnight."

"What? Already? But it's only......1:30am."

"Exactly Rio, it's late. I'm sure Miles has passed out in his room." Jeff announces.

Speak of the devil, Miles shows up from his room. He deffo looked like he took a nap cuz he has drool and pillow marking on the side of his face.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Oh Miles don't make me laugh. It's late. I'll see you again soon ok. You can visit anytime too. You know where I’ll be. Come here give me a hug."

He walks up to her and hugs her and she returns the hug but tighter. Call me crazy but I swear he just turned his head to give me a sly smirk. This kid knows exactly what he's doing. Lucky for me I will have her to myself.

"Ok we gotta get going. I'm sure Maya could also pass out at any moment."

"Thanks for coming over Maya, it's been a while and it was nice to catch up." Jeff says.

Rio and Miles escort us to the door after Maya put on he her jacket and took her bag.

"Thanks for the invite to this Christmas party. See you soon and take care. Bye"

And with that it's finally just me and her. We walk in the nearly empty streets of Brooklyn to our place. The air is freezing to the touch and can see that she's shivering. Without a thought I wrap my arm around her and bring her closer to me.

"Your warm. I probably won't let go."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You know I know Miles was tryna piss you off with the hug earlier. I could tell you were slightly irritated but brushed off."

"I may have told him about how you gave him all of your attention when he was a baby and how it almost made me jealous."

"You being jealous of a kid now and then is so petty. Well I'm here now."

"Yeah and you're mine. I really don't like sharing."

She stops in front of me and makes me stop. She looks up.

"Jealousy looks funny on you."

"I think it's only acceptable if it's for you."

She gives that smile again. I give her a smirk back. This makes her bite her lip and look away. Before she changes the subject, I place both my hands to each side of her side to make her look at me again. Her big brown eyes twinkle with the Christmas lights around us. Her nose and cheeks a light shade of pink from the cold.

I leaned over and both of our lips connect. It's a passionate and love filled kiss. She's stiff at the beginning because it was unexpected but she quickly relaxes into it. She lifts her arms to hold on to me as I move my hands to her waist. I lift her until her feet are off the ground for two seconds and then I put her down. We break apart from the kiss. She looks dazed and as do I.

"I was waiting to do that for so long."

She laughs and I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She's squealing as she hold on. We both continue until we get home. I scan the key and the door opens. We climb up the stairs. We reach the door but that's when I remember a slight flaw.

"The place is kinda not clean. I mean I didn't know you were coming. J-just wait here."

I speed walk in and do what I can. Remove pizza and Chinese takeaway boxes. Pick up a few boxers and socks. Especially hide the gadgets in a box. I was working on my suit and left it out. That needs to go. I do a mental checklist as I go back to open the door, where she's standing.

"Ron, I'm sure it's not too bad. Nothing I can't clean up."

She trots in like she wasn't away for eight years. She looks around the place and my heart start to pick up.

"Oh my God."

Oh God help me.

"You have a new car?"

Huh? What car? She jiggle some keys in my face. Oh.

"Not a car but a motorcycle."

Her eyes widen and they have a twinkle in them.

"Wha- since when?"

"Since you left. I gave away that old car."

She looks around some more. I did get the motorcycle some time after she left. It was easier for me to travel to my missions.

She takes off her jacket and hangs with my other ones. Some thing catches her eyes and I follow where she's looking.

"Oh damn. I didn't know you where into swords and stuff. It looks real."

She goes to touch it but they are very much real and very much sharp.

"Wait! Ummm did you see my punching bag."

She turns to the side and focuses on that. She starts giving it punches and kicks.

"Since when where you into boxing?"

"I used to do underground boxing remember. But now I just do it to keep in shape."

“Oh right. Almost forgot you used to fight.”

She does she eyebrow thing showing that she's impressed.

"It's like I'm getting to know you from beginning again or I'm finding out about this new side of you. Do you still do graffiti?"

"At my big age? Nah"

A/N - Yep kinda went over board with this one. Being a Christmas chapter and all. I aspire to write this much or more in the upcoming chapters. The starts ones were a bit shorter. I kinda end the chapter when I run out of ideas.

[beastenraged]

of two minds

You were human once. Mortal. 

You would have had to be, to be able to explain as much as you have to your Paladin, Nomu. 

Your existence is different from that now. You do not have a name and do not feel discomforted by that. Very different from how mortals work, how necessary it is for mortals to name life around them, to pin things down. 

Nomu, your beloved Paladin, calls you “His Lady.” You do not need anything more than that. 

You usually are not extremely aware of the gap between godhood and a mortal mind, yet at this moment, peering through your Paladin’s eyes at the one called ‘All Might,’ you are never more aware. 

It is a yawning chasm, this range of experience. 

Your being almost itches. 

“My Lady?”

Oh. You curl your being around Nomu, in efforts to comfort him. Nothing is wrong. You’re simply...thinking. 

The bone thin face is familiar, as are those sunken sockets where blue eyes peek out from. Not because Nomu, and thus you, have seen him before like this. 

But because a mortal you, a different you, witness this individual upon a television screen. You...you struggle dig up memories of that time. Intellectually,   you know everything those memories hold, like the man’s real name (Toshinori Yagi) and his Quirk (One for All). 

You even have thoughts on a past interaction between him and another called Sir Nighteye, begging his man to retire before his self appointed role buried him in an actual grave. 

He refused, of course. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here. In fact...

Nomu, you wouldn’t exist without this man. Isn’t that strange? Should I...thank him? 

“...you’re right. He’s All Might and I was created to fight All Might. Huh. What a strange thing to realize.”

“But why thank him?”

You giggle. Brush against your Paladin. Silly Nomu. You love Nomu, and anything that made him exist...that is good. 

There is a warmth in Nomu, that he tries to bury at your shared feeling/words/appreciation. How much you care about him. 

(This is why he is your Paladin and you are his God.)

So yes. You know of Toshinori Yagi. But the feelings that are in those memories...are inaccessible to you. Again, you know what they are but you can’t feel them. Not at all. 

As a mortal, All Might might have been...a favorite! How strange! 

Because when you see him through Nomu’s gaze, other than the faint gratitude that his existence has brought about Nomu’s, you feel...

Not disgust, too strong. More of a faint distaste? 

Because this man....he has spent his entire life in opposition to what you are. What you are god of, monsters and tools and inhumanity. 

(There are no room for beasts, in a world ruled by Peace.)

Worst than that, he was a monster. For what is more unnatural than carrying so many ghosts inside of one’s self, using their Quirks and Strength as Nomu does. 

But also not. 

Because Nomu uses his powers to free other nomu. To raise up the tools that society deemed useless, brainless. Creatures fitting only mercy kills, no personhood about them. 

But All Might...

This society loves him, doesn’t it? Loves their Pillar. 

If you hate society, you decide, you do not love this man. Because of your god nature. He gave up his monsterhood to be something palatable to this unnatural peace. In exchange, you give him up too. He is not yours. 

“What about All Might?”

Nomu, decide what you may, but remember...

This man seeks peace. We do not. For that, we will be enemies in the end. 

No matter what kindness he offers now. 

[girl8890]

R Town | Ch.23

Jungkook x FemOc

word count: 3.3k

POV: M

Warnings: Domestic abuse, Physical abuse, Blood, Pining, Offensive words against intellectual disability.

A/N: Before you read this chapter, I would like to just say I do not think the real Felix is anything like this! I don't think he's like any of the ways I wrote him in chapters before this either. I don't know why he's the person I pictured to be M's husband, but he just is. I don't want anyone to think I believe Felix will be like this to his future partner because I don't! Awesome! Now on with the chapter HAHA...

Index | Ch.24

。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。

"Pack your things. We're leaving tomorrow."

I drop my cup of coffee all over the floor, making Felix jump and yell, "What he fuck M?"

I'm shocked, to say the least. We literally just moved here and Felix is already wanting to leave? I just got accustomed back to this town. I love having my brother around me again after having so much time apart, and I love having... someone else... nearby. He can't seriously want us to move already!

"What the fuck M! What the fuck Felix? We just started settling into this town, why are we leaving?"

Felix sighs, clearly not in the mood to deal with this right now, but I don't care. Not only did we just move here, but I was finally starting to feel at peace in this town.

"It doesn't matter. We just need to leave, so call your brother and say your goodbyes because we're leaving at first light tomorrow morning."

Felix goes to walk away, but I'm not done with him yet. My brother is here, someone I've missed seeing and loved reconnecting with is here, and he thinks I can just easily let that all go with a single goodbye? I grab onto his arm, making him turn and look at me but with evident annoyance.

"We can't leave! I have friends here, now. What about them?"

Felix smiles cruelly and shakes his, and I don't like what type of smile it is. It's a smile I've seen once before, and it means anything but positive things. He takes grabs onto my arm, but unlike what I did he squeeze my bicep until I'm hissing in pain. He then pulls me close to him so we're nose to nose with each other.

"Friends, huh? Is that who you call the people you fuck on the side?!"

"Felix, I told you-"

"Yeah, you told me bullshit!"

I wince at his tone. There's no way he could have found out about Jungkook and I. I've kept my personal promise of staying away from him as best I could. The longing of course is still there, and I find myself walking past his store to glance inside, but I never speak to him. I don't want to risk his, or Jimin's life by doing anything further.

"No I didn't!"

"Oh yeah?" Felix then starts dragging me up the stairs, and I trip a few times on the way, but Felix just keeps pulling. He keeps dragging me until we get to his office in the mansion. The one room that's off-limits to me, and I never cared enough to go in. When we get in, he throws me onto a couch. I shake in my seat as I watch Felix pick up a remote and point it at a wide-screen tv. He presses the power button, then with a few more buttons pushed, I understand what he's talking about.

I shut my eyes and feel like a total fucking idiot. The last thing I thought about was the possibility that cameras caught me, but as it shows on the screen, there's a camera on the Lee club facing the parking lot Jeon games and Lee club shares. And it just so happens to have a perfect view of me outside his house, leaving there looking like an obviously just fucked mess.

I could make up an excuse, say I was just telling him we can't be friends anymore, but it's clear by the way I'm adjusting my dress as I walk down the metal stairs that I wasn't wearing it a few minutes beforehand.

Felix leans down close to me, and I open up my eyes to see a very mad - no, furious - Felix in front of me. "You really thought I wouldn't find out? I knew you were stupid, but now I just think your retarded! I hope you enjoyed his dick because you'll never be riding it again!"

I wince at Felix's words. I don't know how to make this better, but I try my best to make this situation less bad than it already is by lying straight to his face. "It's not like-"

Smack!

Felix smacks me in the face so hard that I fall off the couch and onto the floor. I feel the sting on my cheek, but I don't try to soothe it because I already know it's the first of many blows to come.

"And now your lying to me!" Kick to the stomach. "You fucking whore!" Kick again, and this time I scream out in pain. "I'll make you regret ever meeting your little nerd!" Punch in the shoulder. "Your life with me will be Hell from now on!"

Felix continues to beat me and yell cruel words. I scream, I cry, and hiss with each blow. I eventually start begging when I feel the first bone crack. I don't know if it's broken, but my wrist is definitely sprained after Felix stepped on it.

"Please Felix-" Kick in the stomach.

I don't even know why I try to beg, but it seems like the right thing to do during times like these. What else can you do when you're bleeding on the floor and getting beaten by your husband? He's bigger than me, so fighting back is not in my favor. I've tried that once, and that just landed me in the hospital the first time.

Being beat like this has only happened twice, but it's happened enough for me to understand my position with Felix, and who he truly is. My position will always be lower than him, and he doesn't care what he has to do to show me this fact.

I eventually stop begging, my body deciding to slowly shut down. Not dying, Felix hasn't gone that far yet, but I feel the bruises forming and feel the blood trickling out of my nose when he starts punching me in the face.

I look over to the camera he paused at showing me leaving Jungkook's, and it's what I focus on while Felix yells more profanities at me. "You fucking slut, you're done for! Any freedom I once gave you is gone."

I know his words are true, but the only time I've ever been given freedom was when I was with Jungkook. Not even just the night we had sex but everything beforehand too. I was able to smile a real smile for once and laugh without it being fake to please people. Jungkook gave me the ability to be my real self, and I left him. I left him because I was scared of the man currently beating me was going to destroy everything and everyone I cared about. I still have that fear, but I wish I was brave enough to be selfish a little longer. Be selfish and just stay in the safe arms he promised to always have open for me.

That's what true love is like, I think.

I knew my feelings for Jungkook even before I shut my eyes right now to think about him. I'm in love with Jungkook, but to save him and my family, I stay with the man currently beating me until I black out. Even though the second I walked out his door that day, I knew I would never see him again. I knew that would be the last time I would ever truly be happy, but I also knew I would never forget what he gave me.

He gave me the ability to trust someone. Something I've found very hard to give these days. He also gave me the ability to feel loved. True, unconditional, and never-ending, beautiful love... and I'll never feel that with anyone else.

Felix continues to punch and kick me repeatedly, and I feel my consciousness slowly slipping away. I'm slowly falling into the black void, but before I float away, I think of the only person I've ever loved. The only person that could get me through this pain.

Jungkook telling me he loves me for the first time is the last thing I think about before everything fades to black.

。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。

I wake up on the same wooded flooring I fell unconscious on. I go to sit up, but I end up wincing in pain for moving. My wrist is definitely broken at this point, but besides that everything else is just very hurt. When my eyes finally decide to work again, one of them I think is swollen shut, so technically only one eye sees a phone in front of me on the ground.

It's my phone, the one I never use unless Felix calls me. I knew Felix hacked my phone when one call to a dentist had him questioning who I called later that day. Not only did he delete all my social media before that, but hacking my phone was really the start of his possessive control over me. And now I lay here, half-broken, and fully in pain because I never had the balls to ignore his threats and go to the police.

This will forever be my life.

I know why he put my phone here. He said I can call Jimin, which means he was never going to let me have one last goodbye with him in person. I feel tears fall down my face, and when I try to wipe them away I can tell I must have been crying while Felix was beating me before too. The dry streaks and their sticky feeling indicate as much. I hiss as I push myself to finally sit up, and I cradle my wrist to my chest.

I slowly pick up the cell phone and open up my contacts to find the few phone numbers I have saved pop up. I press on Jimin's name, and it loads up his number to start calling. Even just listening to the ringing against my ear has my heart filled with pain for what I'm about to say to him. That his baby sister is once again going to be leaving his life.

"Hello?" His high-pitched voice questions on the phone other side of the phone.

"J-Jimin?"

"M? Is that you? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," I lie at first. But then I look down at my wrist and decide to no longer lie to the people I care about when it comes to Felix. Felix has done enough to tournament me, and if his promises are true, that my life is going to be even more of a living hell from now on, then I'm no longer going to lie to protect his image. "No, Jimin. I'm really not."

I start to cry into the phone. Full-on whimpering and wailing. "M-M-M! Oh my god, please don't cry! Where are you? Did Felix hurt you again?"

I swallow, trying to calm myself down enough to speak, but it comes out in stutters. "I-I don't know h-hoe much time I have b-but... I'm leaving t-t-tomorrow."

"Leaving? Leaving where, and why?!"

I shake my head, which is kinda stupid since I know he can't see me. "I don't know why, but Felix said we have to go. H-he's only allowing me to call you to say goodbye and I just... I'm in so much pain, Jimin. I'm so sad, and I w-wish this life wasn't mine."

Even as I say the words, I don't know why I do. Maybe it's my pained wrist being clutched to my chest, or maybe the fact the picture of me leaving Jungkook's house is still on the screen. Honestly, I'm going with both.

"What happened?" Jimin's voice changes to one of anger. He doesn't even need the answer though because he follows up with, "M, come live with me. Come live with me, a-and will figure out a way to get you divorced. You shouldn't feel trapped in this type of-"

"I can't, Jimin." I whisper into the phone, interrupting him from saying anything else. I hear Jimin sigh from the other side of the phone, defeated. "Can you j-just do me one favor? A last request from your baby sister."

I try to make my last words cheerful, but I know it fell on flat ears. Jimin is hating this situation and hates it even more that I won't let him help me. But he still says, "Anything."

I swallow, and I decide for the second time in my life to be selfish. To not care if Felix is somehow overhearing me, or if I get beat up again because of it. I need someone else to know that I was happy. That I was happy for once, and that it wasn't just a part of my imagination.

"You can't tell him until I'm already gone, b-but can you tell Jungkook I'm leaving."

"Jungkook? The game store owner, Jungkook? Sure but why?"

Here it goes... "Because I love him." Jimin quietly gasps. "And because I need someone to tell him I'll never forget him. T-that I'm sorry I have to leave, but I'm happy I got to reconnect with him."

There's silence on the other side of the phone for a moment, but eventually, Jimin says, "Okay, M. I'll tell him tomorrow after you leave. When do you leave?"

"I'm not sure. I just know it's sometime in the morning."

"Then I'll see you then."

"Wait! What? No, Jimin, Felix won't let-"

"I don't care what Felix said! I'll see you tomorrow with Tae, bright and fucking early."

Before I could further protest against Jimin's promise, he hangs up the phone. I look at the now blank screen on my phone and sigh. Of course, he wouldn't listen to reason, but Felix better not think this is my fault. He never said anything about Jimin being allowed to send me off, anyway.

I toss the phone on the couch and use that couch to help me stand. It hurts like a bitch, but I was able to stand on two legs. I then plop myself on the said couch and groan at the strain in my back it just caused.

The mansion is very quiet, which is very usual since when I look over at the clock I see it's only eleven at night. I then realize Felix is probably out trying to organize all the business at the club. I don't know if he's going to keep it there, or if he's going to sell it, but either way, we won't be here in this town come tomorrow afternoon.

I breathe through the tears that continue to fall, and I curse at myself for being such a pussy. Not for the crying, since everyone cries and it's kinda ridiculous how people see it as a weakness, but because it almost seems like I'm allowing this to be my life. I'm really not though.

The contract for Felix and I's marriage never clarifies we can't cheat on each other, and I'm not sure if it says anything about domestic abuse. I'm not sure if that's because my parents thought we were going to have a happy marriage, or because they never thought anyone would want to cheat or lay a figure on their precious baby girl. Well, a man's done both mom and dad. All thanks to the bloody arrangement you felt was so needed to make for us.

I can't blame them for the abuse, though. Their not the ones raising their fists at me, and forcing me to fuck them until I start to bleed. I haven't looked at that contract in a long time, but after this whole situation, I should probably take a look at it again.

I shake my head because I know if I look at it and find no ways for this marriage to be null and void, I'll be disappointed. Then again, I also have a feeling I'll have a lot more time on my hands after we leave this town.

I look back at the tv with the picture of me leaving Jungkook's apartment again, and I think of it as him as I start talking to myself like a weirdo. "Did you ever think the girl you've been in love with since childhood would have a life like this Kookie?"

The tv obviously doesn't answer back, but I have to laugh because I hear in my head Jungkook saying, No! And you shouldn't keep yourself in this type of life either!

Oh, Jungkook. I'll never see him again. Of course, I start to cry again, but this time even harder than before. I cry so hard that I manage to fall off the couch and back onto the floor.

I'll never see Jungkook's again. I'll never sneak out of this mansion, and run with excitement in my steps with the idea of seeing him again. The video game we last played together will forever be our last game, and after today I won't even be allowed to talk to him ever again. The kiss he gave me before I left his apartment will forever be our last kiss. The strong embrace he gave me before I walked out the door will be the last time I'm ever wrapped in his arms.

I feel pathetic for all of this. Not because I'm in love with Jungkook, since any girl would be lucky to fall in love with a strong, sweet, and handsome man like him, but because I allowed it to happen. I allowed this love I have for him to grow, knowing this could be the conclusion for it. I knew from the second he said my name and I saw him for the first time after so many years that he would be something more to me than just a platonic friend. If it was the way my heart skipped a beat when I saw him or by the way we naturally went back to hanging out with each other, either way, I just knew Jungkook was going to own my entire heart eventually. And I just let it happen. I let us happen...

Even as I talk about him as some regret, I'll never regret Jungkook. I'll never regret ruining my chance of staying in this town for the rest of my life to have one day of freedom with him. I'll never regret the love I've formed for him and being lucky enough to have his love in return.

I shut my eyes and try to imprint his face into my mind as hard as possible. Because even though I'm leaving here tomorrow to have a new, and much worse, life with Felix, I want to be able to picture his beautiful smile even at the worst of times. Making sure that even when I'm ready to give up, I'll still have him in my memories as a reminder of a time when I was the happiest.

I open my eyes and look back at the tv one last time. Talking to him even though he'll never hear my words, "Goodbye, my love."

-

-

-

Ch.24

[nosferatu-pvssy]

The more I watch the trailers, the more I'm angry about Daniel treating Louis as a particularly dumb moron who is making him loose time, a little kid who is wasting the time of the adult. Is that an attempt to make him look special? Daniel's original personality and appearance wasn't enough to make him interesting?

Oh, but I get what they're doing. This is the very typical trope of lazy writing in tv series (typically with very low budget): in a tv series where there is only one human surrounded by monsters, to make them look special and worthy of the attention of these immortal entities they make them so intellectually superior that they simply were born with the ability of handling monsters, too brave to tremble and be cautious as they should. These humans like Amc Daniel live in the "I'm not like other girls" syndrome, but in the human version. I'm not like other humans!! Who are pathetic and get scared!! Because they're dumb and plain!! While look how smart I am, a genius. I treat monsters out of this world as dumb fucks who have to keep up with me because I'm superior to them too. I, a random human who nobody will remember, am outsmarting creatures who biologically had a genetic mutation in their brains that makes them 10 times faster and therefore more efficient than mine. Creatures who have a knowledge of the world 1000 times wider than yours.

Oh, sure. All very realistic. I'm totally believing that Amc Daniel (just like all his other copies in horror movies) had such incredible experiences in their lives that now meeting a vampire is absolutely no threat. Someone to treat as if they're a nuisance. And it's absolutely not ridiculous and not pathetic the fact that Louis, a deadly monster, would make himself be treated like that while that man (who compared to him is just a child) plays the part of the Smart One in The Room.

I repeat: Daniel's original characterization wasn't enough, huh? The reverence he had in front of Louis during the interview. Not only for the true and genuine fear such a monster provokes in you, because believe me that can't be ignored by no human, but for the sheer respect a weaker creature has for an immensely stronger one. Daniel psychologically bowed down in front of Louis, Armand, Lestat, all of his new idols. Because that's what they were to him. He thought: I am weak. They are strong. They have knowledge, they teach me. They are above me. Not the contrary, with Daniel speaking to (and maybe even over) a goddamn vampire with that condescending tone, a sassy man who is even playing the part of the one doubting the words of someone who you know very well, since you've already interviewed him in the past. A fucking creature from hell that not only TOOK HIS TIME contacting YOU to have that interview a SECOND time. And you act like a fucking Ceo of some company with some particularly dumb employee that is making him loose time???

Daniel was a awesome character for his BRILLIANCE. For how REAL his reaction felt. Because if you want to have human characters that leave a sign in the audience, you have to make them as real as possible. Because that's what's hard. To put aside our pride and represent us in all of our frailty, our flaws. AND NOT CREATING A FAKE MASK OF ASININE SASSINESS TO FEEL REPRESENTED BY A ✨NOT-LIKE-THE-OTHERS✨GUY WHO BELITTLES THE INTELLIGENCE OF FUCKING VAMPIRES.

The value of Daniel, the real courage that man had, was that he managed to go on with the interview even though his hands were shaking so much in fear that Louis at some point had to help him to change the tape. He smoked a mountain of cigarettes. He was feeling on his SKIN how palpable the monstrosity of Louis was. And in the end, just like the human he is, inevitably fell in their spell. He was special for his courage in a moment of pure terror, for how he's clearly a natural at his job as a journalist since it powered his sense of curiosity. But he stayed a human for the whole time, even in his "scared bravery" and then inevitably fell under their spell. Like all humans would do. All. Even the Talamascans are. Even them, who had extraordinary lives that lead them to interact with ghosts, witches and vampires on the daily are very scared when it comes to meet them and take all the precautions they can before meeting vampire face to face. EVEN THEM. But no, amc Daniel who is mister no one, plays the sassy bitch smarter of the class part. EXCUUUUUSE US IF WE'RE DISTURBING YOU. But weren't you the one who fucked up the first interview because you were so high and drunk that you ruined your first chance to talk to a real paranormal creature?? At this point YOU were the one making Louis lose time back then, uh? And maybe even now, all things considered. Why is Louis so determined in contacting this bufoon??? Louis where is your self-respect...

And then they say that they called a team OF EXPERTS to write their interactions the best they can. Oh, I see the results already. They did such a good job, these experts.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Maybe the Harmless Flirting wasn’t so harmless after all... (The Riddler x Reader)

The quips between yourself and the Riddler was just for fun. Sometimes he humoured it and played along when he was feeling confident. It was shameless flirting on your part. You had no issues letting the world know you found the Riddler to be incredibly attractive. 

Edward had tried to embarrass and humiliate you, using your feelings to his advantage. Yet it never worked. You had it bad for Edward Nygma and you didn't care who knew or what anyone had to say about it. So perhaps the dynamic between you two was more personal than usual. After all it was beyond hero and villain, the fight for justice. You two seemed to have a genuine connection that drew you in and couldn't let go. 

After one particular night, you had Edward's attention. He along with Jonathan and Oswald had been caught again by the Batman. All three tied up to the hand railing behind them and sitting on the floor. You, Robin and the Batman were scanning the area for anything harmless that the three might have hidden or left. Robin took to the gargoyles, Batman checked the other rooms whilst you had to check the vents and floor grates. You pulled open the floor grate with a sigh, sparing the three rogues a glance. "You sure you don't want to just tell us?" "As if you'd believe anything we said." Edward snapped. "You're too stupid!" You playfully rolled your eyes. 

As you climbed into the floor grate you heard the distinct muffled talking as Edward continued his verbal assault. "Dare I say it Edward," You heard Oswald speak up. "I'm beginning to think you like the little sidekick, you're giving them an awful lot of your time when they aren't here." "Is there something wrong with your object permanence, Cobblepot!? They are here, underneath us!" Edward shot back. "Perhaps we should have brought along someone with higher intelligence! Then we'd no doubt not be in this situation, held captive by my intellectual inferiors!" "Shut it!" Penguin snapped. "If you're so smart then how come you're in the same situation as us!?" "If I need to be in the middle and listen to you two quarrel then I may have to use my toxin on you two." Jonathan replied cooly. "You don't have any, moron! The bothersome bat took it!" Edward shot back. "Not forever." Jonathan said crisply. Suddenly there was a giggle emanating from the floor grates. "Are they laughing!?" Edward bellowed in outrage. "Do not laugh at me you incompetent, mind numbing, buff- Ow!" Edward jumped, wriggling slightly. "What's wrong?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow at Edward. "That bothersome sidekick is pinching me! Stop that! I'll report you for harassment!" Edward yelled down at the grate he was sitting on. More giggling was heard before movement was heard underneath them. "Oswald might be onto something." Jonathan looked Edward over. "You do seem rather excited with the attention. Are you flustered Edward?" Penguin smirked at the two smugly. "No!" Edward snapped. "I am mortified at this treatment! As a normal person would be!" "Ah but Edward," Jonathan retorted. "I seem to recall you complimenting them for have the sense to show you such...affection." He smiled slightly, enjoying the little torment he was giving. "I said that it showed a minimal amount of potential as they recognise my brilliance. It's down to nature that they'd want my time." Edward sneered. "Uh huh, that is also the case when the feeling is mutual." Jonathan retorted. "Mutual!?" The Riddler cried out. "Absolutely not!" "It's not healthy to lie to yourself, Edward." Jonathan said apathetically. "Oh shut up!" Edward huffed. "By all means if you have better things to do than be tied to us, Edward. Feel free to get up at any time." Jonathan smirked slightly.  "You know I can't- Batman! Hurry up and get this over with! These two are insufferable!" Edward yelled out. "Or you could call the sidekick to return and keep you occupied." Jonathan smirked. "You seemed a little more content when they were around." "Shut up, Crane!" Edward yelled. 

 It seemed everyone was getting ready to go and move the rogues. An idea hit you. "Oh! I'll take the Riddler to the car!" You offered loudly. "No. You're taking Tetch and Cobblepot." Batman said crisply. "No." You deflated. "At least give me Scarecrow." You whined. "Jervis gets all weird and Cobblepot is...you know what, he isn't so bad." You shrugged. "I'll take Nygma and Cobblepot! Those two are a hoot together!" 

That night, along with many others, is what likely what brought you to now. You had woken to a room with two pedestals. Suddenly the Riddler's face was projected upon the wall and you became aware of him standing a floor above, looking down at you. "Welcome!" Edward grinned. "Hey...?" You asked. "Wait...is it just me here?" You looked down at yourself, still in vigilante attire and did another quick scan. "Be honoured! For you get my full attention for the time being!" You sighed. "Hey, if you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask. Doesn't anyone just ask anymore?" Your comment was filled with exasperation.  The Riddler ignored you as he continued to monologue his intelligence in a rather obnoxious and Riddler-like fashion. Although the more he spoke, he still didn't provide you with any answers. 

From what you could piece together, the Riddler had kidnapped you to get to the Batman. Although he didn't just openly say that. That was until you finally asked just what you were to do. "Why it is simple!" His voice rang out. "Before is a key to that collar upon your neck. Solve the riddle, type it into the keyboard before you and it will unlock the box it is in if you are correct. Incorrect and you lose valuable time. You see two keys before you but only one will be for that collar. Put in the wrong key and it'll be your demise. It’s up to you to decide. Find the right key, solve my riddles and you'll go free! Fail to do so and that collar will explode, a rather fatal end for you." You sighed. "Why can't you just ask me on a date like a normal person!?" You sighed. "You know I'm not good at these!" You looked at your reflection to see the red timer on the collar ticking. Ten minutes. "Come now, I put in minimal effort required to stimulate that thick head of yours." He said smoothly. You did notice how basic this was even for the Riddler. "How do I know which is which?" You called out. "Ah! Ah! That's all a part of the puzzle dear!" You heard his smug response and sighed. 

You eyed the piece of paper taped to the first transparent box. 'What breaks yet never falls, what falls yet never breaks?' Yeah, you had nothing for that one. You looked at the next identical box beside it. 'What can go through glass without breaking it?' You stared blankly at the two boxes before you upon their pedestals. Both keys were before you but seemed almost identical. You repeated the riddles in your head and nothing jumped out to you. You quickly decided to choose the riddle that seemed to require less thought. The only issue was that even that riddle was difficult. You eyed the key in the casing and how the light reflected off of the key through the glass. You lifted your gaze to the Riddler but he didn't give you any hint. Surely he wasn't going that easy on you. You typed in 'light' and there was a ding! Your jaw almost dropped, unable to believe that worked. That was one key and you had to hope it was the right one because you sure as hell weren't going to get the other one. You took the key and brought it to your neck. "Not that one!" You winced at Edward's ear piercing scream through the speakers. The noise was quickly followed by a high pitched screeching and static as distant stumbling and rustling could be heard very faintly. "Don't move!" Edward barked making you wince again.  Things were suddenly very quiet. 

You jumped when the door slammed open as an irate Riddler stormed up to you. "You idiot! That's not the right one! If you looked at the shape of the lock you'd have seen which was the correct one!" "I can't see what's on my neck!" You replied quickly. "That's why there was a mirror in front of you, moron!" Oh. That would have helped a lot. 

The Riddler typed hurriedly into the keyboard, ranting incoherently but something along the lines of "they weren't even difficult! I gave you the easiest ones!" That didn't feel great for your ego but before you could say much of anything, Edward's fingers were tightly yanking your head back and exposing the collar to him. "Hey, wait-!" You protested and suddenly there was a clink! The collar unlatched and the Riddler yanked it from your neck. The Riddler wasted no time bending down slightly pulling you into a bridal style carry. You let out a small noise of surprise and looped your arms around his neck and shoulders. He brought you into the room he was previously observing you in and put you down. 

 The Riddler looked stressed, beyond stressed. That was when you noticed the collar didn't interfere with your mask at all. In fact, your mask was under the collar. "Hey...did...did you mess with my mask?" You asked. "What?" He replied quizzically, thrown out of his thoughts before realising what you said. Edward shook his head. "No." His response just led to more questions like why wouldn't he want to expose your identity and ruin your status as a vigilante? Did he just not consider you important enough? Before he could turn his back to you, you spoke out. "Wait, so you kidnapped me, brought me here and didn't bother to look at my face?" You asked. "Well what makes Batman so special!? Am I not good enough for you!?" Edward sighed pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Why would I bother!?" Edward exclaimed. "I don't know-listen, you're lucky you're pretty because if you weren't I'd be one hundred percent holding a grudge right about now!" "Holding a gru-!?" Edward shook his head, cutting himself off. "Although I didn't think you were into the collar thing. I thought that'd be more of a Catwoman thing...or Mad Hatter. Wait that's a thought no one wants. Anyway," You nodded to the Riddler. "Kinky." "Ki-!?" The Riddler immediately cut himself off before explaining himself. "That was programmed to make your head explode!" "Wow..." You said slowly. "I can't tell if that knowledge is a splitting headache or mind blowing."  There was a moment of silence as Edward glowered at you. "You almost died and you're making jokes!?" He yelled. You squeezed your eyes shut at the volume. "Handsome, inside voices please." You whined. "This is serious!" He retorted loudly.  "Okay can you stop yelling at me please? I get I screwed up but you know I'm not good with this stuff." You said after a wince. 

The Riddler stared you down for a moment before he sighed. "I won't yell at you." He said quietly. "I just...I'm a little confused. Why didn't you let my head explode? You put me in there, the riddles and stuff was for me yet you...saved me from it?" You asked with confusion, not entirely certain how to articulate what had just happened. "I wanted you to pick the one that actually mattered." He said exasperated. "What does light have to do with anything? There's nothing between us and light!" "Hey, I could be the light of your life if you let me." You joked and the Riddler stared you down with a deadpan expression. "Not even that one cracked a smile?" You sighed. "Fine, but I didn't have a chance with that first one. You know I'm horrible with Riddles. So what was the answer?" You asked. "That one has to mean something if the wrong one meant nothing." Edward ran a hand through his now disheveled hair. "The answer was trust. It can be broken but can't fall and I..." He sighed again. "I have no choice but to trust you, always. You never lie. You never show ill intent towards me. That makes me trust you and I need to trust you now for what comes next." "Next?" You expression fell. "Should I be worried?" Edward stared at you. "I know that you don't understand." He said flatly. "But I need you to understand. There is no hiding it anymore." 

You began to step away but he moved forward. With every step he backed you up against the desk behind him. "Ed...what are you doing?" You asked quietly. "I won't hurt you." He said quietly. "You don't see it but I need you to see it." "What-" Edward cut you off as he pressed his lips to yours, taking your breath away almost immediately. Edward cupped your face in his hands. It was probably a bad idea but you couldn't help but relax into the kiss. Edward felt your hands grip the shirt above his sides as you kissed him back. Both of you were very aware of the messy situation the two of you were now in.