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rickriordanfandam · 3 years

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opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below)

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong.

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up. the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more

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werevulvi · 3 years

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Do you consider yourself not feminine anymore? If i recall correctly you used to wear makeup, feminine clothes and presented androgynous?

I've been meaning to make a post about this, but just didn't get around to it. So prepare yourself for a long answer, because there's a lot behind my change of style. During this past year or so, I went back and forth between feminine/androgynous and masculine presentation a lot. This was partly to figure myself out, and partly just going with the flow. And what I discovered from that was that despite I really love the feminine look aesthetically... it makes me uncomfortable to actually wear it. Like I get super tense and on hypervigilance.

Basically, I don't think I ever enjoyed being feminine as much as I thought. I think I've used it to suppress my masculinity over shame for it. Also, being male-passing makes being feminine quite a social challenge and I no longer feel it's worth it to catch so much attention for self-expression, when it's so much more beneficial to just let people get to know me by talking to me instead. Additionally to that: I hate being sexualised and infantalised for looking/acting feminine. That is a side effect which I absolutely abhor, and it also kinda triggers me.

Aside from style, I looked into my feminine qualities as a person, as you're right: I used to always consider myself feminine and androgynous. However, what I later on discovered was that most of my "feminine qualities" or traits, are not healthy. For example: I've always leaned submissive and passive in any social interactions. Not just sexually, but like just talking to people. I'd never take the lead, never initiate contact, and I still struggle to be assertive. This isn't "just my personality" as I used to think, but actually me being afraid of being berated for how I am. I always hated being called feminine by others, especially by people who know/knew me, and I think this is why.

Another example is my body language/mannerisms. In that I've always kept my legs closed and kept my arms close to my body. Basically I curl up into a little ball a lot, and yes I always have, ever since early childhood. This, I thought was also something innate about me as a person, but later on discovered is actually a defense mechanism, an attempt to protect my body from harm (from other people) as well as from the elements like coldness and rain/snow.

Knowing that, my idea of myself as feminine started to come apart. I had learned to be feminine. From female socialisation and from my trauma, and I think probably from my autism (sensory stuff) as well. Since then I've started to dare spreading myself out a bit more, and working on being more assertive (not talking over people or being aggressive or anything like that though, just standing up for myself and being more firm with what's important to me, boundaries and values, while still remaining empathetic and kind.) And I've noticed it's making me feel a lot better about myself! Much more relaxed, confident and trusting myself better.

And then it strikes me: why are these, much more healthy traits, considered masculine?

When it comes to more external stuff like clothes and makeup: I stopped wearing makeup, some 6 months or so ago (give or take, my memory is bad.) And it made me realise that I'm actually addicted to makeup. Like... I always knew I've had issues with being too dependent on makeup in the past, but never really saw myself as addicted to it. I've quit makeup before, some 10 or so years ago, but then went back to it, and it's just always a slipperly slope, no matter how careful I am about it.

What made it click for me was when I (last year, btw) started getting some outbreaks on my skin which annoyed me. So I decided "I'm just gonna put a little bit of concealer on it to cover up the worst." So I did that, but then thought "actually my cheeks look really red, so I'll just cover that up too" but I didn't stop there. I ended up adding so much concealer that half my face was covered in it. Then added foundation and powder. Then realised I need to bring back some colour in my now monotone face, so did contouring, added highlighter, blush and bronzer. Then did my eyebrows, added eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner and... I think you get the point.

This kept happening several times. Also when I wanted to just wear lipstick, I ended up also adding concealer, doing my eyebrows, dyeing my eyebrows, adding contour, etc.

I can't seem to JUST add a little bit of concealer on the "worst" spots without ending up covering and re-painting my whole face. And then after having done that... I feel like shit. Like I just wanna wipe it off because that's not my face, but I've just spent an hour on that makeup, so it would be a total waste to just wipe it off again. So I keep it on, despite having regretted it all. So eventually, when I got that first thought: "I'm just gonna put a little bit of concealer on it to cover up the worst" I stop myself and don't do it. Instead tell myself that my face is fine and no one's gonna care that I have two red pimples on my cheek. Maybe just put some zinc paste or aloe vera gel on it if it's irritated/sore, but no makeup.

As for just wearing wine red lipstick and nothing else on my face, which obviously doesn't cover anything up: the lipstick dries out my lips really a lot, and makes it difficult to eat and drink with. It stains on clothes and I have to be careful when scratching my beard/mustache, etc. That is not like a huge sacrifice, but it does make me tense. Also, people stare at me a lot when I do that, haha. "Why is that man wearing lipstick?" Oh I dunno Harry, you could ask. If people only knew my history. But I'm not saying I'd never do it again. I mostly just need a break from makeup altogether before I start considering only wearing lipstick in my favourite colour again, because doing that is obviously very different from wearing a full face of makeup. But I need to uhh... recover from my addiction first. I need to love my bare face first, I need to be able to not care what I look like.

Then as for clothing: Generally it's very similar. I think I subconsciously connect feminine clothing to "looking pretty" and masculine clothing to "looking plain/boring/mediocre" without consciously thinking that. But for this past year, that subconscious thinking changed, when I got really into men's classic clothing by watching youtube channels of very fashion-obsessed men. Like they talk about suits a lot, and details like neckties, pocket squares, matching socks, brocade shoes, how to get the best fit, what colours go with what, and so on.

I used to never care about suits, but now I'm kinda impressed by them, haha. Like they're simple, yet so complex. They're comfortable, yet so stylish, and they're timeless. I used to be kinda goth and think "normal" clothes were boring. But this changed me. I bought a cheap navy suit, and started craving wearing brown leathers instead of black. I discovered a whole, amazing world of men's fashion, and I fell in love with it.

What used to be "boring" has now become a rich world of amazing fabrics, cuts and styles. Twill, tweed, cuffs, collars, denim, flannel, leather, linen, suede, corduroy, oh my! And then I started loving the even much more simple look of dark blue cuffed jeans, flannel shirt, zippered hoodie, fleece jacket, brown leather belt, wrist watch with brown leather strap, and brown leather boots. It's super plain and mediocre, but the comfort and the shades of brown and blue really speaks to me. I love the look so much I ended up wearing it every day for over a month now, just changing flannels to always wear a clean one, and washing it all bi-weekly.

What is that, is it me?! Lol. Well, I love it. I think it's an important journey of self-discovery. Of finding comfort with myself and wearing clothes that move with my body, instead of forcing my body to move with my clothes. Of finding comfort with who I actually am as a person, instead of trying so hard to paint myself up as the inner mental image I have of my ideal self. I still hold onto that picture, but I also rather enjoy to focus on being clean and smelling good, being minimally groomed and comfortable - instead of looking fancy.

But also, dressing masculine helps with my dysphoria too. Being off testosterone, and wearing a lightly padded sports bra on occasion spikes my dysphoria (although it soothes something else within me) and dressing hyper-masculine helps calming that down.

Also, shaving my head back in November, and letting go of my long locks, because my hair has thinned out really a lot... made something else click in me as well: letting go of external beauty, in favour for letting the beauty within truly shine.

So what if I look like a burly hipster dude? Everyone gets unfairly judged for how we look. It's not even always about gender. But I've started to ask myself what's the point of trying super hard to "show my personality" in my style, when people are more likely to actually listen to what I tell them about myself when I'm dressed plain, instead of being too busy placing false assumptions on me?

I think I'm learning something very important about myself, and finding strength within myself, to just be me. And I never gave my masculinity the credit it deserved, because I believed my forced, unhealthy behaviours and misconceptions of masculinity as "boring" meant I was just feminine as a person. That's what the world taught me to think. But of course, I'm not denying that yes, I absolutely used to express myself very feminine, and I'm not gonna claim that I've always been hyper-masculine.

This is the first time in my life I'm truly enjoying masculinity and feeling liberated, strengthened and invigorated by it. The first time I do it to prove myself to only myself, that I don't need nor want to be feminine, and that's okay. That female masculinity is not being boring or sloppy. The first time that it's not to impress others as "man enough" as the insecure trans man I once was. And that matters a lot to me, even if it doesn't last into my 40's.

I might at some point again occasionally wear some lipstick, a long flowy skirt, or put flowers in my beard. But I need to fully indulge in my masculinity for now, and let it set me free from the chackles of forced feminisation that came with female socialisation, which I grew up with, like most women did. I am just so DONE with having those fucked female beauty standards shoved down my throat, which no, not even transitioning let me escape from. Because transitioning can't let me escape my own (brainwashed) mind. That's something I have to work on to break down piece by piece, and to rebuild myself, by hand.

I'm constantly evolving and learning more stuff about myself and the world, and I'm a sponge for such knowledge. I've never been afraid to take on change, especially drastic changes, and to challenge my own harmful behaviours (like my makeup addiction) as soon as I realise the harm is no longer worth the joy. I can't keep up with me either, but looking back on my life and seeing how much I've grown, is always quite exciting, haha.

However, I'm still wearing cutesy cotton panties with lace edges and a little bow at the upper front. I do that because it's femininity that's ONLY for me. It's actually comfortable, makes me smile whenever I go to the bathroom, and no one else can see it. So it cannot be sexualised or infantalised by other people, despite being such an intimate pieces of clothing, because only I get to see it. (Although of course an intimate partner and very close friends would see it, but that's gonna be people I trust a lot to begin with.)

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realtalkingpoints · 3 years

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So there is media hype today, about a ‘CNN Exclusive’ report on leaked documents from China about mistruths and false reporting in the early days of the Covid-19 outbreak. First of all, what a joke...

So, here’s the link for anyone who wants to suffer through it. (CNN China piece). I got a little more than halfway through before I determined it was a nothing burger, promoted to sound huge (take focus away from election lawsuits?) and admit very little that we didn’t already know. Basically, it said early cases were under reported and embarrassing logistics and infrastructure deficiencies caused reporting errors to the world.

Okay, allow me to laugh off this silly attempt to fool the public into thinking we now know what China has been hiding. That’s my best guess as to the hidden purpose of this nothing burger of a story. Sure, they needed something to take attention off the devastating testimony of voter fraud at todays hearing an Arizona with the Trump campaign legal team. But the hype circulating on Twitter and the web led me to think there would be real incriminating information in these ‘leaks’ to CNN. Nothing could be further from the truth. And I guess there are some embarrassing secrets in there that reveal China is less than 100% perfect, but no one with a brain actually thought that anyway.

There are some real questions, that real journalists could push to get answers on, that would truly show China’s malfeasance in what has turned into a global pandemic. First, China is still reporting 86,542 cases of covid-19 and 4,634 deaths. That info comes from here (coronavirus by country link) updated on Dec. 1, 2020. I don’t think those numbers have changed since the last time I wrote about this, several weeks ago. China is basically claiming that they stopped the outbreak in province of origin, but not before it spread around the world. Ummmm, ok... So lets get this straight. Even though reports are that China locked down the entire province, many flights left with infected people and thus seeded the world with the deadly infections disease. Ok, but no one left the province and traveled to other parts of China? Y’all wanna do the smell test on that for me?

The CNN article states Dec. 1 as the assumed date of the first infection with symptoms in Wuhan. And we know as a matter of public record (and reported here by Fox) that the World Health Organization (WHO) tweeted on January 14, there had been no clear evidence of human to human transmission of the virus, as reported by Chinese authorities. So, knowing what we know now, of how incredibly infectious this virus is, and how fast it must have been spreading in Wuhan between Dec. 1 and January 14, that they concluded the best information to tweet to the world was ‘no clear evidence of human to human transmission’ makes any sense? To be fair, the reported number of cases in China at that time was likely only in the hundreds or so, but as I indicated above, their numbers seem to be only a weak attempt at propaganda by my analysis.

My assumption has been, and after today’s nothing burger remains to be, that China is either lying about their infection numbers and the severity of the current outbreak in their country, or they are lying about the origins of the outbreak and were much better prepared to deal with it than they have revealed to the world.

The CNN article points out that China continues to claim that investigative teams will be allowed in to investigate the outbreak at its source, but to date, they have been ‘limited’ (what ever that means...) Have there been any?

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missnmikaelson-main · 4 years

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National Anthem

5. June 25, 2020 Part 2 🌶

“I kind of regret not getting that ice cream,” Cami groaned as they re-entered the building, effectively escaping the sweltering heat.

“It would have melted before we could get back,” Josh shoved up his sleeves, exposing his arms directly to the air conditioning.

“Nothing wrong with ice cream soup,” she grinned.

“Personally I prefer the ice cream cold,” Marcel laughed, “and to finish it cold today we would have had to eat it so fast that we all developed brain freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind any kind of freeze right now,” Cami let out a wistful sigh.

“I’ll tell you what,” Marcel rubbed the back of his head, “I’ll pick up my files and computer, you get the latest videos to review and Josh can pick up what he needs. Then we head back to the hotel and get a big tub of ice cream.”

“Or we could just jump in the pool,” Cami hummed, already feeling the cold water surrounding her. She had what she needed for the evening so she followed Marcel back to his office.

The open door made her pause, granting a glimpse of Kol inside, pacing back and forth with a thick folder.

Marcel barely got out a greeting before a fist collided with his jaw, impact knocking him into a wall where he fell.

“What the hell?” Cami slammed the door shut, bracing her back against it.

Marcel climbed back to his feet, rubbing his face.

She saw it a spilt second before it happened and could only watch as he punched Marcel again. She jumped between them before he could go for a third and held him back with hands on his chest.

“Kol?” Her heart beat loudly in her ears.

“You had no right.” His words were cold and quiet in stark contrast to the wild rage that left bruises on Marcel’s face. “You had no right to dig through her life.”

“I had every right,” Marcel grunted. “She’s spending time with you. We needed to know everything.”

“Elena’s an open book you bloody idiot,” he spat over Cami’s head. “I have known her since I was seven years old. There are no skeletons in her closet and no embarrassing relations.”

“Really?” Marcel scoffed. “So I suppose you knew about the illegal activity surrounding her birth?”

“What the hell are you on about?” His eyes narrowed.

“Read the file. At the back,” Marcel rolled his neck. “There are no records of Miranda Gilbert being pregnant with her, and dozens of doctor’s reports for her brother. Somebody falsified her birth certificate. For all we know she’s not even American. She could be a foreign spy for all anyone knows.”

“Are you crazy?” Kol pulled out the papers. “I’ve known Elena since I was seven years old.”

“I’m not saying she is one,” Marcel sighed, “I’m saying it’s a conclusion people will jump to. False documentation and a reputation as a respected journalist working her way up Capitol Hill. It doesn’t look good.”

“I don’t care how it looks to you or anyone else,” he stuffed the pages back into the folder. “Stay the hell out of her past.”

He shoved away from Cami and wrenched open the door.

“Where are you going?” She turned to Marcel, inspecting the damage.

“I’m gonna go and make sure she’s alright because she ran out of here in tears before I could stop her,” he seethed, cutting his eyes back to Marcel. “I suggest you make this right soon, before I get the urge to blacken your other eye.”

++++

She hugged the hotel pillow to her chest and stared at the desk in the corner through tired eyes. She felt dried out, drained of everything but the tight ball in her chest.

A single page fluttered in the air conditioner’s blast, flapping noisily against her open laptop.

That stupid note bared her deepest fears. She could see them now, laid out at her feet. As a potential embarrassment with who knew how many relatives waiting in the woodwork she wasn’t good enough.

Not that she had thought she was good enough before.

She was a reporter and that made her as far from First Lady material as possible. Not that she had been thinking about being First Lady; it was just a side effect of her other fantasy that involved Kol and a white dress and mischievous eyes in an impossibly small face.

But she wasn’t good enough for that.

She was a giant question mark, and who was left to answer it?

Water leaked from her eyes into her hair.

So much for being cried out.

She closed her eyes and saw it again. She heard the scream and rush of water, felt the ice spread through her veins, sensed the darkness closing in. And then she remembered waking up in the back of an ambulance.

They were gone.

They couldn’t answer.

They couldn’t tell her anything.

They were gone.

They couldn’t answer.

But maybe someone could.

She fished through her pocket for her phone and forced her eyes open as she scrolled, selecting the direct line they called a ‘lifeline’. Her throat constricted painfully; she swallowed until a little moisture returned to her mouth.

“Hello?” Jenna Sommers voice filtered through her ear.

“Aunt Jenna?” Her voice cracked.

“Elena? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Jenna rattled off question after question. Keys jingled in the background, and she pictured her driving like a demon to get to Texas and her upset niece.

“Was I…” she swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “Was I adopted?”

Air rushed in her ear as Jenna inhaled quickly. Somehow that was more telling than anything she could say. And then Jenna was talking a mile a minute, trying to explain between dropped apologizes and halting breaths.

Grayson Gilbert doctored the birth certificate when her teenage birth mother left her in his care.

She had been abandoned at three days old. That might have stung more if she were still a teenager, but she couldn’t begrudge the girl for wanting out. What sort of life would she have had raised by someone who probably didn’t want her, and who clearly unable to provide for her?

It still made her angry.

What if Grayson and Miranda hadn’t wanted her either? Where would she be?

Somehow she managed to choke out a second question and avoid the three asking how she had found out in the first place.

“Who… who was she? Where did she come from?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Jenna swallowed. “I only ever knew her name.” She breathed it then and the five syllables rattled inside her brain. “Elena?”

“I gotta go.” She hung up, dropping the phone onto the bed. It immediately started buzzing.

She ignored it and rolled onto her side.

The hotel door clicked open.

She hugged the pillow tighter, staring at the flapping page as he entered. There was a moment of shuffling feet while shoes were toed off and then the bed dipped under his weight.

“Jenna’s calling,” he breathed, setting something down on the nightstand.

“Don’t wanna talk to her,” she mumbled with all the petulance of a child.

“Very well,” he said, doing something that stopped the buzzing.

A soft clunk told her he’d put it on the night stand as well. Then the bed shifted again as he stretched out behind her. A strong arm slipped over her side and wiggled under the pillow until his palm pressed flat to her stomach.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he kissed her shoulder.

“You read it?” She released a shaky breath.

“He told me,” he tightened his hold as she pressed against his chest, “after I punched him in the face.”

She wanted to giggle at the image of Kol losing it, succumbing to the base desires he liked to hide, for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than smile.

“Who am I?” The air conditioner made a decent attempt to drown out her strained whisper.

“You’re the same person you were this morning,” he propped up on an elbow when she shook her head. “Look at me Elena.”

She blinked quickly, slowly turning her head. His dark eyes were soft for her.

“You are the same woman you were this morning,” he moved his thumb over her naval. “You’re the same bright, brilliant, bloody curious woman you were this morning. This doesn’t change that. You’re still my best friend. You are still Elena Gilbert.”

“But I’m not,” her lip wobbled.

“You are,” he insisted. “You are compassionate and fiery, and the best woman in my life - don’t tell my sisters.”

That drew a giggle. She sobered quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You made a reasonable assumption, darling,” he dipped down and kissed her cheek. “It’s not like I haven’t asked him to do stuff like that before.”

“You deserve better than me,” she bit her cheek.

“You let me decide what I deserve, Elena,” he tugged the pillow from her hands, letting it thump onto the floor. “If anybody deserves more it’s you.”

He pressed his fingers to her lips when she moved to protest.

“Don’t deny it, Elena,” his thumb swiped at her cheek, “it’s because of me you’re crying. It’s because of me he did it. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he kissed her brow, her closed eyes and finally her lips, pouring his apology into the slow movement of his mouth.

She rolled onto her back as he shifted, hovering above her body. Her hands grasped at his shirt, tugging up until she could feel the powerful muscles in his lower back.

Kol broke away, resting his brow on hers. “Tell me what you need love. Do you want me to fly Rebekah and Caroline here? I’ll have them in this room by nightfall.”

She shook her head and sniffed, certain she looked absolutely disgusting but unable to care or feel self conscious.

“I need to feel normal,” she chewed on her bottom lip. She wasn’t sure when exactly he became her normal, but there was the truth. “Make me feel normal,” she fumbled at his belt buckle. “Please, Kol. I don’t need Caroline and Bekah right now; I need you.”

She needed to feel him pressed against her body, inside her body. She needed the comfort that came from being with him.

“Are you sure?”

She pushed at his chest and stood from the bed, wiping one hand across her cheek as she turned to face him. Her fingers worked at her buttons, clumsy and slow; there was nothing remotely sexy in the way she pulled off her clothes.

“I might not know where I came from,” a tear dripped from her chin unto her breast. “I might have doubts about who I am,” she let her blouse fall away and reached for her skirt’s zipper, “but I know what I need right now.”

He stared at her for a moment before he rose in a fluid motion and circled around the bed. She watched him shed his clothes and drape each piece in a careless pile on the armchair.

By the time she unhooked her garters and rolled the silk tights off he was naked.

And maybe she wasn’t totally disgusting because he was already half hard.

Without her heels she was too short to kiss him without making him stoop, so she guided him down until he sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting one leg and then the other she straddled his waist and held his face.

His hands came up to rest on her hips.

She kissed him once on the lips and then moved to nibble on his earlobe before searing a path down his neck to his shoulders. She snaked one hand down, gently stroking him until he reached his full length.

His fingers sought out the points he knew would make her moan.

Leaning back a few inches she lined him up and sank down. There was a little discomfort but she was still wet enough that she could ignore it.

His lips explored her smooth skin. Moving up from her throat to her face, he kissed away her tears.

That simple act made her want to cry some more, but she didn’t.

Her heart sped up as she moved with the aid of his hands gliding gently up and down the length of her back. He directed her hips to twirl and she moaned at the sensation when his hard length stirred her insides.

The coil in her belly tightened. Her leg muscles trembled with each downward thrust, and when he added that little swivel her vision threatened to black out.

Somehow she held it together and drank in the intimacy of the moment, the way her curves fit to the contours of his body, the brushes of his lips against every inch of flesh he could reach.

“I’m close,” she shook with need, walls starting the familiar flutter. “I’m so close.”

“Cum for me then, love,” he drew her lips back for a long kiss, pausing only to murmur soft words against her mouth. His thumb found her clit and pressed down.

Her abdomen quivered, pulling taut, before the pressure released. Her entire body tingled as her vision finally went black. When she came to her senses again she felt Kol’s drugging kisses across her jaw and his hard length still inside her, stretching her wide.

“You didn’t make any plans for the evening, love?” He nipped at her ear.

“I… I have some work to do,” her chest heaved, hard nipples brushing against him on each inhale.

“You can do it later,” he lifted her bodily and laid her out on the bed. “I have no intention of making this quick.”

“You never do,” she sighed, gasping as he lowered his body over hers.

“I need to show you how important you are,” he murmured against her breast, trailing his lips over her flat belly. He positioned his body low, hooking her thighs over his shoulders. “And I did promise to wrap these enchanting legs around my head.”

She breathed his name while pushing her fingers through his hair. “I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

“You will.” He took her hands away and threaded their fingers together, holding her hands below her risen thighs and smiled, dipping to run his tongue through her folds. “I promise.”

She held tightly to him, grounded to the hotel comforter by his hands and mouth. She lost herself in the euphoric sensations, submitting to three earth shattering orgasms before she tugged him back up.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of flesh on flesh as they fell into the timeless dance. Eventually she found herself on her side playing with the fingers across her belly.

“Do you feel better?” He breathed, deep and even against her back.

“No,” her soft smile dropped to a frown as she remembered the events leading up to the marathon of love-making. “I don’t feel better, but I feel…” she chewed her bottom lip and rolled over, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I feel... safer?”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he smiled. Their skin stuck together, sweat from their actions acting as a glue. “Should we adjourn to the shower, and maybe I’ll continue to make you feel safer again.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she dropped her head to the pillow, “but if we do that I’m afraid we’ll be in the shower all afternoon and I really do have to get some work done.”

“Okay,” he nodded, inhaling slowly, “why don’t I take a quick shower and you can get that work done? Then after you can take a shower while I order us some dinner and shred that file. I hear there is a Thai place a couple of streets over thats to die for. How does that sound?”

“Like you just might be perfect,” she blinked.

He chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not perfect, love,” he got to his feet, smirking down at her, “a perfect man would shred it all. I have every intention of keeping a couple of those pictures.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take some?” She rolled her eyes, pretending to lift away the sheet.

“I’m not much of a photographer,” he backed towards the ensuite. “Besides thievery is more my style.”

“I concede. You’re not perfect,” she let her eyes flicker over his body, “but the view certainly is.”

He laughed and slipped into the restroom.

She stretched when he was gone and got up, retrieving an oversized t-shirt from the closet. The first time she wore it he objected to the ACDC tee, but dropped the topic when she admitted it was one she had stolen from Jeremy and not something from an ex-boyfriend.

She almost wished she hadn’t told him right away and let him robe her in one of his t-shirts instead.

With Jeremy’s shirt on she sat down and booted up her computer. There wasn’t a whole lot she had to do, but the deadline loomed for her articles submission.

Before she could hit send a window popped up on her screen. She glanced over her shoulder where the shower ran and estimated enough time to answer what was sure to be a freak out call.

“Hey, Caroline.”

Caroline’s blonde curls filled the screen. She saw the outline of a house behind her shoulders and decided she must have propped her phone on the low brick wall outside what had to be the Mikaelson mansion.

“Are you alright? Your article is due in like four minutes and you always have it in before noon.”

“I was just about to send it.” Elena split her screen so she could see the email and clicked the appropriate button.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Caroline persisted. “You’re never late, or near late Elena. What gives?”

“I was just busy,” she shrugged.

Caroline went quiet and leaned closer to her camera. She could feel the way her friend scrutinized her through the connection and resisted the urge to fidget. Any movement might draw her sharp eagle eyes to other parts of the room.

“You look upset, but also something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yeah, you look drained like you’ve been crying and relaxed like you just had an awesome massage.”

Elena shifted slightly to the left and prayed Caroline didn’t see her flush.

Blue eyes narrowed.

“That bed is all mussed up.” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Elena Gilbert; were you ‘feeding the kitty’?”

“You did not just say that?” She forgot her mortification when she laughed.

“You were,” Caroline jumped. “Come on, spill, who’s the boy?”

“Care, I’m thirty-one. There is no ‘boy’.” She rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed, “who’s the man?” She cringed, likely unable to believe she had uttered those words and become a walking meme.

“That’s my business,” she shook her head.

“Well, you don’t want to talk about what’s bugging you, so tell me about the guy, or the girl, or whoever fed your kitty.”

“You need to come up with a better euphemism,” Elena groaned.

“I like mine. So, which is it gonna be?”

“I don’t want to talk about what’s bugging me Care,” she should have known her friend would see it in her face, “I’m not ready. And I’m not really obligated to tell you about my sex life.”

“I’m here whenever you want to talk, and of course you’re obligated,” her voice rose to a shriek.

Elena fully expected Caroline to go on about their friendship and how she always told Elena about her sex life, but the blonde fell silent. At first she thought it was a delay, but then she noted the way her blue eyes grew to the size of saucers.

A squeal broke up the silence and Caroline jumped, hands dragging towards her mouth.

“Oh bloody hell.”

Elena’s mouth popped open, reflexively she slapped at the keyboard until the call ended but a single look at Kol - head in one hand - told her it was too late.

She attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“So,” she chewed her bottom lip, “how long before everyone we know hears that you’re walking around in a towel on my webcam?”

“It’s Caroline,” he blew out a rush of air. “I give it an hour before we’re bombarded with phone calls.” His eyes flickered to her buzzing cell phone. “Speaking of: why is it you don’t want to speak to Jenna?”

“Because she knew,” she closed her computer. “Are you upset that everybody is going to know?” She knew Caroline wouldn’t tell anyone that would spread it to tabloids. They didn’t have to worry about paparazzi hounding them.

“No,” he shook his head. Bending down he gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Take your shower love. Would you like me to answer Jenna while you’re in there? I can tell her you’re not ready yet.”

“Would you?” She swallowed.

“Of course, darling.”

++++

Caroline burst through the mansion doors in a flurry of blonde curls and grey cashmere, shouting as she went. The click of heels raced to meet her in the grand ballroom.

“Red alert, Bex! SOS! Red Alert!”

“Caroline, calm down.” Rebekah rushed over, grabbing her friend’s flailing arms.

“How can I calm down?” She shrieked. “This is huge news. Life altering, mind-blowing news. They’re doing it, Bex! Don’t you understand? THEY ARE DOING IT!”

“Who’s doing what?” She sighed. Knowing Caroline it could be any number of high profile celebs, or someone in town having a torrid affair.

“Elena and Kol,” she threw up her hands. “They are doing it. I caught them. He fed her kitty!”

“What?” Rebekah shrieked. She thrust her hands into her hair, groaning loudly.

“Did I hear that right?”

Caroline whipped around to see Finn leaning in a doorway.

“Kol and Elena are together?” He repeated, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

“Were you not listening to her outdated sex references?” Rebekah shook her head, grimacing as Caroline repeated herself. “You need to start saying something else, like ‘fucking’, or just stick with ‘doing it’.”

“So they're together,” Finn grinned, crossing the floor to his sister, “and Elena’s birthday was just a few days ago.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Caroline frowned.

“It’s the bet, Caroline.”

++++

Marcel rubbed the back of his neck after knocking on the door and waited. As the seconds ticked by he worked his sore jaw and considered the best thing to say, but when the door swung open on a shirtless Kol every thought flew out of his head.

He gaped for a moment, glancing beyond to where Elena sat curled in a chair wearing a man’s shirt and little else.

Some of Kol’s clothes poked out of the open closet beside a handful of summer dresses.

How long had they been sharing a room?

How had nobody noticed?

“Did you need something, Marcellus?” Kol’s voice lacked any warmth.

“I came to talk to Elena,” he cleared his throat, dragging one foot along the floor. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Elena, love,” he stared Marcel in the eye, “Marcellus would like to speak with you. Should I let him in, or break his nose?”

Somehow Elena managed to curl tighter into her chair. The sight of the confident young woman broken stabbed at his gut. With a jolt he realized what exactly had caused it. The bright woman he had come to know wouldn’t cower over credit scores or stolen photographs; that woman would scream and kick, and maybe break his nose for herself.

It was the birth certificate.

It was the connotations that came with it.

“I think that silence can be interpreted for a broken nose,” his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t,” Elena whispered. “With the way my days going somebody will take a picture.”

“I’ll just have to do it later then,” he gripped the doorknob. “Good evening Marcellus.”

“Wait,” he slammed a hand against the wood, holding the door from closing completely. He could just see her as she hugged her legs to her chest and blinked at the carpet. “I came to say I’m sorry, and that I’d like to fix this. I don’t know how yet.”

“You’re good at sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, aren’t you?”

Marcel thought she was going for bitter, but her voice wobbled around the words. Somehow that made him feel worse.

“I’m excellent at it,” he swallowed.

“Isobel Flemming.”

“What?” His question was echoed by Kol, and the door opened as he turned around.

“Isobel Flemming,” she repeated, slightly stronger. “You wanna fix this? Put that talent to use.”

++++

@kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever @elejah-wonderland @cry-btch @geekofmanyfandoms @morsmornte @xanderling @bellemorte180 @iw1shiknew @blndbandt

#kolena #kol mikaelson #Elena gilbert #Camille O'Connell #caroline forbes #Rebekah Mikealson #marcel gerard #national anthem fanfic

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boystownhq · 5 years

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[ R-E-S-P-E-C-T Find Out What It Means To Me. On Communication! ]

Recently, I’ve been noticing a trend of people communicating out of character in the vaguest way possible, or alternatively being aggressive to the point of turning people off. I’m here to talk about the happy medium that helps us communicate our wants, goals, and limits. And to remind everyone of a few key things to always keep in mind when writing with other people in a group setting.

There’s also plotting and letting go of plots. Sometimes when you reach out to people, you’re really excited about a plot, and when it starts to play out, things go awry, and it creates a conflict that becomes difficult to deal with IC and we turn to OOC solutions. Character chemistry changes sometimes, or sometimes our writing styles don’t match. That’s OKAY! If you’re not feeling it, all it takes is a quick message. Something like:

YES ✓ “Hey, I’m not really feeling this plot/thread and would like to drop it. Thanks.”

NO ✘ Immediate unfollow and/or block.

Dropping threads/plots/etc does NOT give anyone the right to treat your fellow writers poorly. Being short with people and getting upset over in-character interactions is not the way to go. IC should never cross over into OOC, and we need to take a step back and really think about what we’re actually upset about. Be concise and specific when you message each other so nothing’s really left up in the air. Please remember that behind each character is a real, imperfect person using this roleplay as a creative outlet. Be patient with each other, avoid taking things personally, and if you can’t mesh well out of character, it’s easy to just bow out of a conversation with common courtesy and leave each other alone before things escalate. I’m going to go over a few points I think we need a refresher on.

Brace yourself, this is a long read, but worth it!

Consent: ALWAYS check in with your RP partners and make sure it’s okay to do something before just writing it, however insignificant it might seem to you. Please do not godmode dialogue, actions, or extensions of said characters (pets, children, parents, or other NPCs they’ve made) unless you’ve asked for permission. When in doubt, ASK to make sure it’s okay!

TAGS and Triggers: Please remember that a character’s actions and viewpoints do NOT reflect the actions and viewpoints of the writer. A little louder for those in the back: IC =/= OOC. We’re in a roleplay with a variety of characters that deal with things like infidelity, internalized homophobia, crime, sex negativity, sex positivity, family issues, race issues, gender norms, gender fluidity and other issues that affect people in the LGBT and POC communities every day. All we ask is that everyone portray these issues respectfully and if you don’t know how to, then please do not attempt to until you’re more educated. Nobody wants to read a mockery of issues we deal with on the daily in real life. While we love seeing diversity, you do NOT need to write about deeper issues to make your character interesting. That being said, don’t take it upon yourself to play blog police. Come to the admin if you see something that’s a cause for concern, and keep in mind that you do NOT have to interact with every character in the RP. We have a list of triggers, please tag them accordingly. As much as we all love seeing steamy aesthetics and faceclaim posts on the dash, please tag NSFW accordingly. Need something added to the list? Please reach out to the admin so we can add it!

SMUT: Sometimes, people bring in FCs that we REALLY like! And maybe you wanna write your character and that character getting together, but consider this: maybe that person doesn’t want to jump right into smut. It can come off as fetishizing if that’s the only thing you ever want to plot or write about. People do NOT owe you an explanation as to why they won’t write smut. Respect that. If your character is aggressively pushing a sexual plot and you are asked to stop OOC, then you need to full-stop. Sex is a sensitive subject, whether you think so or not, and we respect everyone’s boundaries here. We strive for a safe space to write IC and OOC. That doesn’t mean don’t write smut ever, just have full, explicit CONSENT. It’s that easy! Don’t be pushy or borderline creepy about it, because that’s the surefire best way to get unfollowed. Have a question? Come to the admin! You don’t have to tag NSFW, but you can if it’s getting extremely graphic, just out of courtesy.

Plotting: Are you reaching out to plot with someone? Have some ideas ready, don’t rely on the other party to come up with all the ideas. Is someone reaching out to you? Make an effort to bring something to the table, but if you feel pressured into coming up with a plot all on your own, it’s okay to decline if you’re not feeling it. Need help coming up with stuff? Reach out to us! We can help. Just don’t reach out to your peers, say you want to plot, and never come up with a starter or anything, then come back time and again asking for ideas when the other person still doesn’t have any. Not only is that annoying, it’s off-putting and indicative that the rp will rely on one person for the most part. Not cute!

Inclusivity: Don’t be afraid of branching out. Everyone likes writing with friends, and that’s a given, but make a conscious effort to reply to open starters. I understand sometimes people are nervous, but that’s something we need to work through. If you’re nervous approaching someone, consider that they might be nervous to approach, too. Don’t make assumptions about people based on what you see alone. Some people gravitate to certain characters, but that doesn’t mean they won’t interact with you. If I had a nickel for how many times people assume my characters won’t want to interact with theirs when that’s not true at all, I’d have a lot of nickels! Open starters are the best way to get a feel for a character. Be creative in your interactions and the way you invite other characters to interact with yours through starters for best results.

YES ✓ “Hey, a starter from this character I haven’t interacted with, let’s gooo!” NO ✘ Ignore starters because you think they only bubble rp and won’t reply to you. (Open starters are open for a reason!)

Respect Time and Muse: Sometimes, people have muse for certain threads, certain characters, and won’t always get to every single reply they owe. If you feel like there is a problem, too much time has passed, please approach that person because it’s likely they missed a response. Tumblr activity feed can be a little weird, and not everyone uses thread trackers. That’s okay! Again, this is a hobby. That being said, don’t agree to plot if you don’t see yourself following through, and please don’t disregard threads you have with other people. That’s frustrating, and you wouldn’t want the same done to you. Some people might be on sporadically throughout the day, or on for a brief time at night, or even be on all day! Either way, they don’t owe you an explanation as to how they’re using their free time. If it gets to the point where anyone is feeling pigeonholed in a plot, it’s affecting your ability to roleplay your character, and you’ve tried communicating, then reach out to us and we’ll help. Everyone’s got the right to write what they enjoy and progress their character’s development.

He Said She Said: Did you hear something from a third party about a person and now refuse to interact with them IC or OOC because of it? You should probably take a step back and ask yourself if it’s actually true or just hearsay just because someone else didn’t like them for whatever reason. A lot of us have similar or same aliases, but we’re not all the same people. If someone personally does something to you, if you SEE certain behavior, by all means bring it to the admin’s attention. But please don’t spread rumors or buy into unsubstantiated claims. That can be more damaging than you realize. Again, we’re all real people on the other side of the screen. What if it was you being talked about?

Unfollowing vs Blocking: Look, we get it. You’re not gonna mesh with everyone. Sometimes people won’t get a hint, or do things that you just do not agree with fundamentally on an OOC level. We have a no blocking rule because we don’t want anyone feeling left out. If you wish to unfollow a character, that’s not optimal, but allowed, but please respectfully let that mun know so they don’t continue to try interacting. If you have been asked to stop interacting, please respect that so it doesn’t HAVE to escalate to admin intervention. That being said, we are here to help and help keep the peace between everyone, so do reach out to us for any reason. Don’t block people. If it does escalate, reach out to the admin so we can step in. If you want to unfollow someone, be sure it’s not solely because of IC actions.

TL;DR: COMMUNICATE OOC and be respectful to your fellow writers. At the end of the day, nobody wants to feel ignored, disrespected, or passed over, so please don’t be the reason why somebody feels this way. Be inclusive as much as you can, but respect that you won’t mesh with everyone. Don’t spread false rumors. Character chemistry, writing style, or content will vary from character to character and mun to mun. If you have any questions at all, the admin team is here to help! But it’s not that deep, Jay, it’s just RP. YEAH, WELL that’s not an excuse to treat people poorly. We can do better.

#boystooc #Jay This Is A Wendy's #🙏🙏🙏#🌿🌿🌿

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bisexualstokes-archive · 5 years

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Atrophy (5/7)

Chapter (5/7): Dig Him Up Rating: Teen+ (For: Language, Graphics Depictions of Violence) Summary: It’s not what you think. Chapter Notes: I have three warnings for this chapter: 1) It is the longest of all the chapters so far (3.6k words), 2) There are certain things that are implied, that seem like it's leading to one thing, but it is most certainly not., 3) It will also seem like there is a character death, but I assure you, there is NOT. .......what have I done? also...girls just wanna have fun ;) @letswaitforme, @deltajackdalton, @impossiblepluto,@mutatedsilverunicorn,@12percentplan,@telltaleclerk…idk, who else wants to be tagged in updates of this fic?? lemme know ;)

Previous Chapter | Read on ao3

Something beyond nausea was swirling in the pit of Nick’s stomach. As Veronica dragged Nick back through the hallway which seemed to extend for miles, doors opening and closing on both sides, showing terrible visions of torture chambers, he couldn’t help but wonder what Veronica had intended for Greg.

Maybe they didn’t know what had happened yet. Maybe Greg just hung up on Veronica, as soon as she started moaning. Maybe Marsh was still buried somewhere in the earth, before his time. Maybe nobody would realize he’s gone until the start of his next shift--what time was it, anyway?

“You know, it’s a shame you’ve gone all quiet,” Veronica mused as she brought him through a door. “I really liked the sound of your screams.”

Helpless, Nick stared up at her, his head rolled backwards as she dragged him by the arms. His more...injured shoulder was most certainly dislocated by now from the rough pulling, his back was probably covered in carpet burn. Whatever expression that was on his face seemed to only fuel her fire more, a devilish smile spread across the woman’s face.

She dragged him into a room which was also as barren as the living room. A bedroom, containing only a bed, a dresser, a closet. No windows in sight, the only source of light was a ceiling light.

Veronica hauled him onto the bed, Nick noticed she struggled a bit, as she did when getting him in an out of the trunk. If he could only move, he could have tried to overpower her.

But instead, he was on top of her bed, and she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She tied one end to the bedpost, walked to her drawer and pulled out another pair for the other post.

“It’s not what you think,” she told him, as if she knew the horrific images that were conjured in his head, of what his “punishment” might entail, on a bed, with handcuffs involved.

It didn’t ease his anxiety regardless.

She walked away from the bed, towards the closet. Next to the closet was a long chain that seemed to come out of the wall.

“For your punishment...I was thinking,” she opened the closet doors, then turned her head towards him. “I’ll make you watch.”

Nick was dizzy, the room was spinning, his thoughts were bouncing all over the place. His train of thought had jumped from deadly premonitions of Greg Sanders, to one of painful memories, that he had tried so hard to repress.

Watch? Watch what?

She reached into the closet, Nick couldn’t quite see what was inside--but heard the jangle of metal, like a chain. He heard another sound, as if the chain was being pulled, and then retracted. Almost like a pulley system.

“I’m afraid you’re not going to get the best seat in the house, however. It is a punishment, and I remember how...uncomfortable the trunk made you.”

Oh no.

“Although, maybe it wasn’t just the dark, maybe it was...the tight space of the trunk? C’mon, you can tell me…”

She walked over to the bed, stood over him, relishing the silence before bursting into a fit of giggles. She playfully tapped his cheek, he would wince away if he could.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t.”

As if he needed the reminder.

She grabbed his arms again, pulling him off of the bed. He was dragged once more, this time towards the open closet. She kept his arms raised above his head, he heard the connection of metal around his wrists. She stepped on top of him, just like she did at the crime scene, only this time, a little less carefully, stomping down on him with such pressure to his gut that he couldn’t feel.

She stepped out of the closet, began to pull the chain, and Nick was lifted upwards, his assumption was correct, there was a pulley system at play.

He was lifted up so that his feet were a few inches off of the ground. His head fell forward, his chin was touching his chest, and he had a close-up view of his bleeding scars. He briefly wondered if he would bleed out before any death due to the toxin’s effects.

He directed his eyes towards Veronica, who was smiling at him, holding a camera—oh, how he wanted to just punch that smile off of her face. The whole idea of this...ownership, this torture was bad enough, but the possibility that she had done this before, given how the house was laid out, how the chains were installed...brought Nick to a whole new level of questioning if he had truly fallen into hell, or if the reality was that demons were real, and he was face to face with one of them.

“Behave,” she ordered. “Or I will kill him.”

Click. Flash.

She closed the closet doors, leaving Nick in the dark, but it wasn’t completely dark. Beams of light shone through the slits of the louvered closet door.

The closet was not as bad as the trunk, all things considered. At least he had more room to breathe, he wouldn’t run out of air, he could still see the room, though his view was limited. The confinement was terrible, and he did feel a hint of his claustrophobia, but it could have been worse.

And then, it got worse.

Veronica turned off the room’s light, Nick heard the sound of a door closing. The final nail in the coffin. What he was once able to identify as a bedroom, became another dark tomb, that he couldn’t even scrape his nails against, in a futile effort to escape. He was trapped in a claustrophobic void, an existential stasis, wondering if it was minutes or hours that passed as all the voices in his head kept him company...voices of people he loved, of people he hated...of people he failed.

He failed his parents. Left his home, all because he wanted to escape from their shadow, escape from his childhood home--which never really felt like home, not after that night. He left to “prove himself,” but what has he proven now, a broken man chained to a wall, a plaything of a twisted woman’s whim?

He failed Grissom, disappointed him--even if Grissom had specifically told him, on a foggy, groggy night spent in a hospital bed, that he never did.

He failed Catherine. How could she still trust him to be her right hand man, when he can’t even process a crime scene without getting injured? When he can’t shoot an armed suspect without emptying his entire clip, because he’s scared--scared that if he doesn’t, the suspect will shoot him and he’ll fall to the ground again?

He failed his friends. Sara, Ray, Jim...Greg. What must they think of him, can’t even keep a promise to meet for breakfast, making false phone calls, unable to say a word of what he’s truly feeling? They don’t deserve him. They deserve someone greater…somebody who could be a good friend, to listen, someone smart enough to see the warning signs of danger before he walks face first into it.

Echoes of disappointments, failures, screamed at him through the void. Mistakes he’s made, people he couldn’t save, whose deaths he was directly responsible for--two men that he had even killed, himself, all because they would have killed him first. Final words of a serial killer, who deserved the swift hand of justice, though maybe Nick had swung a little too hard...

“Great men who are what I could never be…”

He was no hero. No John Wayne. The Duke would take one to the shoulder and walk it off, like it was a mosquito bite. Mercilessly shoot down the bad buy, live to fight another day. He was brave in the face of danger.

“The pain doesn’t go away, the rage doesn’t go away. So, come on, put your gun down, walk out of here, be a man.”

Nick, on the other hand was a coward. A man who now flinches every time he hears a gunshot. A man who can’t seem to pull the trigger when it really matters, when faced with the murderer of his partner, his best friend.

Maybe he deserved this punishment, after all.

His stomach churned, fearing that the worst was yet to come, as Veronica’s humming intruded upon his thoughts. He heard a dragging sound, a grunt, and then nothing. For seconds...or minutes...or hours?

With every blink, time seemed to get a little slower. He was finally nodding off, if he was lucky, perhaps he would fall asleep, better yet--maybe into a coma. Dreamless sleep.

“What’s taking him so long?” Veronica’s voice broke the silence, Nick was startled out of his doze. She turned the light on, her position in the room was not where Nick thought it would be, based on his perception of her voice in correlation to her body. She was in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, checking her face...she had seemed to be talking more to herself than to Nick.

Perhaps she had forgotten that he was in the closet? If it didn’t kill him, the drug would wear off soon...if he could just stay quiet, maybe he could slip out...

“Does Greg even care about you, Nick?”

Guess not.

“I saw him, not too long ago. At the house. Digging. Everyone, in fact, was digging so...purposefully, like they were uncovering something they had buried there themselves.”

She turned toward the closet, stood right behind the horizontal prison bars. He always hated prisons.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the closet door was open. He was suddenly near-sighted, everything past Veronica’s fuming frame was blurred, distorted. He needed his glasses, but didn’t need them to see the sharp nails as they slid across his cheek. His head lolled, falling back to his chest, his mouth gaped open.

“Hey! Wakey, wakey--this isn’t naptime!” Veronica snapped at him. She wiped off the drool that had landed on her hand onto his pants.

“Ssst………...op…” he groaned in a thin, raspy voice. A sharp breath, held in, released at the syllable of his broken words. His jaw clenched, his unsteady breathing thundered in his ears.

“You’re so cute when you think you still have a chance.”

He blinked, there was music playing, bubbly, poppy music. He never liked this song anyway, it never really applied to him, and the application of it to his situation made him grind his teeth. Veronica was dancing, lip syncing, occasionally looking to the closet, winking.

He blinked, and the door was closed again, Veronica was on the bed, blowing a bubble from her lips, kicking her legs on the edge of the bed as she swayed to the beat of the song.

He blinked, and he wondered if he had opened his eyes at all--he was in the void again. She was nowhere to be found, but heard her vile giggles--his eyes scanned the dark space of the closet anxiously, wondering if maybe she was in there with him.

He blinked, and she was in front of the closet, a deadly, hateful expression on her face. The sound of chains grinding, he began to fall. His body spasmed, an involuntary response to a threat he was helpless against. His feeble struggle made her giggle.

He blinked, and she was at the other end of the bedroom, behind the bed, the closet doors were wide open. She was smiling at Nick, widely, holding a finger to her lips. She started to crouch down, disappeared behind the bed. The music was beginning to fade.

He blinked, the door was closed, the light was on. The music was gone, there was an eerie silence...that was broken by the sound of a door creaking open.

A flicker of light, danced onto the bed, the ceiling, the walls.

Steady breathing, Nick told himself. The tension, built up within the last few minutes--was it really minutes, or was it hours? Or days? Or years?--was bound to reach a boiling point, a climax. The suspense was tearing him apart, whatever Veronica was about to do to him, he wished she would just do and get it over with.

The light crept onto the dresser, onto the mirror--it flashed onto the backboard of the bed frame, the silver of the handcuffs gleamed.

The light headed towards Nick, soon it was shining in his face, nearly blinding him.

Enough with the damn light!

More creaking, this time from the closet door, which was being opened...slowly…

Just get it over with you bitch…

The space in front of the closet was occupied by the shadow of a person, but it wasn’t Veronica--wasn't even a woman. A lean body figure, an outline of tousled hair. A flash of reflective white material on his chest. The light was lowered, something got caught in his throat, hitched his breathing, stopped his heart. The man standing right in front of him had a horrified expression on his face, his eyebrows curved in concern, his skin was a pale green.

It was Greg Sanders.

“Nick?” Greg asked in disbelief, lifting Nick’s head up with gentle fingers. Nick’s eyes remained locked on Greg, blinked, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

I’m just as shocked as you are, buddy.

Outwardly, Nick could only manage to sputter drool in response. But something seemed to transfer from Nick’s eyes to Greg, and understanding, of the true nature of the situation, and not the false one Veronica had tried to fool Greg into believing.

“We gotta get you out of here,” Greg gulped down, gently lowering Nick’s head down. He used one hand to dig into his pocket for his phone, stuck the flashlight into his vest with the other and began to fumble with one of the shackles on Nick’s wrist.

Nicks eyes wandered behind Greg, the woman who had crouched behind the bed was now rising, the same smile on her face, the finger still pressed to her lips. Veronica disappeared behind Greg’s body--but Nick could see a camera coming closer on the left, and a syringe on the right.

Nick fought against the confines of his body, his veins surging with fire, his eyes bulging just slightly out of their sockets. Greg had gotten one of the shackles open--Nick tried to aim his falling hand to fall onto Greg, to get his attention. Something rose within his throat, but wouldn’t leave the surface--Greg was unaware, holding the phone to his ear, was just about to spew out the details of the address--

GET OUT, GREG!

Greg groaned, dropped the phone, and fell towards Nick. His hand grabbed onto the top of Nick’s pants, released his grip as he fell to the floor.

Click. Flash.

Nick’s eyes dropped to the floor, staring at the unconscious CSI at his feet--his head was resting on Nick’s shoe. He wanted to kick at him, make him wake up. If there were any time for a seizure, it would be now. Tears were raining down onto Greg’s head, but that didn’t wake him up, either.

“You didn’t tell me your friend was such a stud...Although, given how quickly he fell to the floor, should I say, a dud?”

Shrill laughter pierced through Nick’s ears, his body vibrated with anger at the fact that he couldn’t do anything to help his friend. All he could do was watch.

Veronica dragged Greg away, towards the bed--she stopped as she reached the foot of the bed, looked up at him, to relish the look on Nick’s face. He thought she was about to pull him onto the bed when she kept going, behind the bed. Giggles, cooing, rustling sounds...what the hell was she doing?

Then, a hand flopped onto the bed. And the other. A head popped up--a blur of brown hair, followed by a torso, dressed in a black vest, a reflective strip of white. The torso fell onto the bed, and then a hand raised up, waving.

Veronica rose up behind the body, crawled onto the bed. She handcuffed the unconscious body to the bed, spread his body out. She straddled Greg’s lap, pulling out a marker and wrote on his face.

She fell backwards, somersaulted off of the bed. She pulled something out of her dresser, and spun around eagerly.

She lifted up a black blur, held it in front of herself--Nick hyper focused on the object, it was a gun.

“You know, I was never actually that good at playing darts,” she mused, pulling the trigger. No gunshot, but a swift vhoom.

A dart gun.

Thank god.

“Aw,” she moaned. “I missed. I only got four darts left, better make them count...maybe I’ll get lucky, though.”

She described her misfire for him, because she knew he couldn’t quite see the dart hidden behind the man’s head. She lowered her arms, reloaded her weapon in between each shot.

She raised her arms again, seemed to aim with careful precision.

“When I caught you earlier, that was just sheer luck.”

Another miss, Nick saw it land above the man’s blurry head.

“Or...was it destiny?”

She dropped one arm, but it didn’t help her aim. The dart landed next to the man’s hand.

“I have to say, out of all the toys I’ve collected throughout the years…”

Another dart, between Greg’s chest and armpit. A pulse spread through Nick’s body--spiked at his heart. His limbs twitched, pins and needles pricking at the surface of his skin.

Veronica reloaded her gun, raised it up again, and then spun around to face Nick.

“You’re my favorite.”

She squeezed the trigger, but not before moving the gun back towards Greg--though her body was still facing Nick, her blurry face was still directed towards him.

Despite his distorted vision, the result of her last dart was crystal clear, but she decided to announce it anyway.

“Bulls-eye.”

A tremor shook the room, as the gun clattered to the floor. A violent laugh boomed through his ears. His already blurred vision stretched out, his face became a burning waterfall. Two separate blurs combined, dropped, one stood tall and he knew without knowing, what was going on. The sound of cloth dragged across carpet.

“Another broken toy, ready to be buried,” Veronica sighed glumly. “I was really hoping he would last longer…”

Lava rose up his throat, spilled out of his mouth. More lava poured out of a hole somewhere in his chest.

“Oh, what’s this? I think he’s still alive.”

His body jerked, hiccuped, a sound that was not human escaped his mouth.

“Hopefully he won’t fight as hard as Marsh did.”

Click. Flash.

He blinked, and he was left in the dark again.

----------------------------------------------------------

One minute, he was at the scene of a terrible crime, and the next, he was in a world of darkness. He lifted his head up, immediately came into contact with something cold, hard.

He tried to sit up again, and couldn’t. He placed his hands in front of him, felt something inches above his head. He fumbled around for his flashlight, his vest was gone.

Luckily for Greg Sanders, he had put his flashlight in his pants pocket.

He turned the flashlight on, stared up at bed springs. He rolled himself out from underneath the bed, his head heavy. His hands clutched the comforter, he grunted, but didn’t quite hear himself, as the only thing he could hear was hyperventilating mixed with sobs.

“Please, please, please, please…” Over, and over, and over, and over.

“Nick?”

Greg waved his flashlight around the room, the hairs on the back of his head spiked upward, tingling. He saw a few darts on the bed, and a mess of flesh raised up beyond the bed’s surface.

He stood up, it was difficult--the room was tilted, hazy. He concentrated on the beam of his flashlight, focused on the hand that was still shackled to the wall, and another hand that was clawing at the metal binding it.

Nick was frantically trying to free himself, but he was too weak, his hand kept slipping, his nails scratched the metal so hard that they were bleeding. Gurgles and sobs filled the space between them, as Greg drew closer.

“Nick, hey--”

“He’s gone. He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone...gone...Rehhhhhhhh….k-k-k-k-k…….killed.”

Nick’s speech had faded to a low whisper, but it didn’t take an investigator to figure out what Nick was so distraught about. Greg’s heart twinged, he was talking about Warrick.

“Gruh…….Reg.”

Or not.

“Nick, it’s okay, I’m right here,” Greg whispered, gingerly removing Nick’s bleeding fingers from clawing at the shackle.

“NO!” Nick screamed, an earthquake spread through his body, startled Greg backwards. “No, please! I’ll behave! I’ll behave…”

“Nick, y-you’re scaring me--” Greg gulped, and Nick started sobbing again.

“I-I’m sorry...I’ll behave just please…”

Greg wasted no time in undoing the shackle, avoiding as much contact with Nick as possible, until he was freed and fell to the ground, curled himself up in pain.

An arm reached up, grabbed Greg’s shirt, pulled him with such force that Greg nearly fell on top of Nick. He froze, unsure of how to react--he had only heard such noises when they had rescued him five years ago, but this time, he had a front row view. Nick’s eyes were shut tight, lost in his own mind.

“DIG HIM UP!” Nick screamed. “Please, dig him up...”

“Nick...look at me,” Greg told him, touching a hand to his cheek. His eyes began to flutter, his lips quivered. His nose sniffled, his breath caught itself. A trembling hand pressed Greg’s harder against his cheek. A spark in his eyes, a connection.

“I’m right here.”

Greg stared right into Nick’s eyes, a sound that almost resembled a laugh rose out of Nick’s body, before the crying stopped all together, and his eyes closed again.

#csi cbs #csi fan fic #nick stokes #greg sanders #whump fic #whump #my fic #fic: atrophy #YUP THIS IS IT #THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING ALL FREAKING AFTERNOON/NIGHT #BYEEEEE #I'M SORRY NICK #I'M SO SORRY #sorry i like to see you suffer nick

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sickjoonie · 5 years

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i found this in my notes from december before i made this blog enjoooyyy some soft minjoon

namjoon was in his studio, but he wasn't working. normally he would be caught up in his music, allowing himself to drown out everything else until someone came to bring him back down to reality. he loved producing and it was easy for him to let himself disconnect and get lost in it. it was his escape from the world, his way of forgetting about everything else for a while. too often he would stay too late or work way too much, all caught up in the adrenaline and high of it. sometimes, it stressed him out and made his body ache with the need to move on. even then, it was worth it in the end.

today, however, he couldn't concentrate on work. the only he could concentrate on was the twisting discomfort of his stomach. what started off as a dull ache had steadily increased into angry cramps that had him grasping at his stomach, softly groaning.

he tried to ignore it at first and instead lose himself to the music. he managed short intervals between sharp cramps that left him gasping in pain. as the cramps and general discomfort increased, he no longer could manage to concentrate. giving up, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach as it gurgled softly, being very vocal about its discomfort.

namjoon had a feeling the cause of his upset stomach had to do with what he ate for lunch that day. he had found some takeout food in the back of his studio fridge and figured it wouldn’t kill him to eat it. granted, he didn’t exactly remember when it was from, but he didn’t really care. he was hungry and wanted something quick to fill his belly until dinner so he could continue working on his music. he didn’t have time to go out and get some takeout. he feared that if he left now, he might lose his motivation to work on the tracks. it had happened before.

unfortunately, it appeared his assumption about the food being safe was false as his belly ached as a result of it. clearly, the food was spoiled.

his stomach felt bloated against his palm and he felt too full, adding onto the discomfort of the pain. he felt like he had eaten too much while having the stomach flu.

his stomach growled loudly and he let out a queasy burp. he felt helpless as his stomach fought him, rejecting the bad takeout.

he grabbed his phone from next to his keyboard, the movement disrupting his stomach once more and causing him to burp again. he felt gross and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed and have his stomach rubbed. normally, physical affection wasn’t his thing. he never participated in cuddle piles like the maknae line (and hobi) did.

that all changed when he was sick. attention was the best cure for him, working better than medicine.

if there was anyone who was good at fussing over people and showering them in affection, it was jimin. he never held back, using cute nicknames and puppy eyes to coax and soothe whoever was sick. if they all thought they were whipped before, it increased when jimin was taking care of them.

namjoon shoots him a text to come to his studio before putting his phone back down and waiting. his hand rested on top of his belly and he closed his eyes, sinking into misery’s company. the minutes tick by in silence, only interrupted by the noisy rumbling of his stomach and wet belches he can’t hold back.

the studio door creaks open, signaling jimin's entrance. "namjoon hyung?"

namjoon hummed in response, grimacing as another wave of cramps seized his belly. his hand grasped instinctively at it as if the pressure would make the pain go away.

"hyung, what's wrong?" jimin's sweet voice approached closer, concern lacing his words.

namjoon opened his eyes to see jimin in front of him, frowning and his forehead scrunched up in worry, eyes wide and alert.

there they were; the infamous puppy eyes.

namjoon was a weak, weak man. all he wanted was to be held and coddled by jimin. he never got this way with any of the other members. only jimin brought out this soft, tiny side of him.

“my stomach really hurts,” namjoon whimpered, “i think i ate something spoiled.”

jimin cooed, his dotting side instantly taking over. “oh, you poor baby.”

namjoon’s heart ached at the nickname.

he reached out and cupped namjoon’s cheek with one hand, letting the older lean into it. “what did you eat? i know you didn’t come out for lunch.”

namjoon felt a bit guilty at that; he hadn’t been joining them much for lunch recently, too caught up in work. he was regretting not coming out of his studio to get food. “some old takeout.”

“how old was it?”

namjoon grimaced. he couldn’t remember when he had first gotten the takeout.

jimin noticed his hesitation and knew that it couldn’t mean anything good. “do you not remember when you got it?”

namjoon sheepishly nodded. his stomach gurgled as it churned, audible enough that jimin noticed it. jimin placed a hand on it, rubbing it softly.

“your tummy sounds really upset.”

namjoon stifled a burp into his hand. “it feels awful, jimin ah, it hurts so bad.”

jimin frowned. “do you wanna lay down in your room, sweetheart? you might be more comfortable there.”

namjoon weakly nodded. he let himself be pulled up by jimin, instantly hunching over his aching stomach. the movement disrupted his stomach once more and he couldn’t help the loud, sickly burp that slipped out. his ears tinged red from it, despite knowing that jimin wouldn't mind. he burped all the time around them, but they never sounded this wet or gross.

jimin let namjoon lean his weight against him as he helped him to his room, careful to go slow in fear of upsetting namjoon’s stomach more or causing him to puke. thankfully, the trip was uneventful, with only a couple of burps. jimin didn’t mind; he knew that the burps were relieving some pressure on his stomach. it would be cruel of him to tease namjoon about it.

if anything, it appeared namjoon was holding them back. jimin doubted that was helping his stomach at all.

namjoon groaned as jimin helped him onto his bed, feeling his stomach slosh. it was gross and made him want to gag. simply breathing added to the discomfort, each breath pushing down on his bloated stomach. he curled up on his side, grimacing and hugging his abdomen.

jimin felt his heart tug in sympathy. namjoon was always their strong leader. seeing him like this, curled up as small as he could get with a pained expression, made jimin want nothing more than to hold him and kiss him better. cuddles and kisses would only go so far, however. medicine and a hot water bottle was more likely to bring namjoon relief faster.

then jimin could give him all the affection he wanted.

jimin brushed namjoon’s hair out of his face. “i’m going to get some medicine and a hot water bottle for you tummy, is that alright?”

namjoon nodded. he didn’t want jimin to leave, but he knew it was necessary.

jimin smiled softly, left a kiss on namjoon’s forehead, and hurried out of the room. while the water bottle was being heated up, jimin gathered some stomach medicine and a bucket just in case. being prepared was always better than a mess, in jimin’s opinion. jimin had a feeling that with the way namjoon’s stomach was churning, the takeout wasn’t going to stay put for long.

jimin returned to the room to see namjoon in the same position, his hand up his sweatshirt as he rubbed his stomach. his eyes were squeezed shut with pain. jimin set the bucket on the bedside table before coaxing namjoon to sit up, handing him the water bottle and medicine.

namjoon pressed the water bottle against his stomach, sighing as the warmth covered his stomach. he grimaced at the medicine, a bit too nauseous for comfort.

“i don’t think i can swallow it down.”

jimin frowned. “it might help your tummy, joonie hyung. i don’t want you to be in pain.”

namjoon stared at the medicine warily. giving in, he closed his eyes and swallowed it dry. he could feel nausea bubbling in the back of his throat, a protest to the medicine, but he managed to tame it.

sighing in relief, namjoon sunk back against the pillows, pressing the water bottle more into his stomach.

jimin smiled, pleased to see him taking his medicine. “that should kick in soon. your tummy will still be upset, but the medicine should help ease the pain.”

namjoon nodded, adjusting the water bottle.

“do you need anything else, hyung?”

namjoon opened his eyes and looked up at jimin. “...cuddles?” he grinned sheepishly.

jimin didn’t have to be asked twice. he gently climbed onto the bed next to namjoon and clung onto him like a koala bear, more than eager to give his hyung affection. it was rare that namjoon sought out cuddles, but when he did, jimin never passed up the opportunity. namjoon was like a soft, giant teddy bear that made jimin’s heart flutter and caused him to giggle.

“i’ll cuddle you until your tummy feels better,” jimin promised, nuzzling namjoon’s neck. he pressed a few kisses there, overflowing with affection. he could feel namjoon relax into him, his body weight sagging against jimin.

“rub my belly too?”

jimin felt his heart squeeze from how cute namjoon was being. “of course, hyung. i know you love belly rubs.” his hand slipped under namjoon’s sweatshirt, pushing the water bottle of away in favor of his own hand. namjoon’s stomach was warm and jimin could feel how bloated he was as his hand spread across it.

he moved his hand slowly, keeping the pressure light. he heard namjoon sigh, obviously enjoying the movement.

“feels good,” namjoon mumbled, pressing his nose into jimin’s hair.

jimin stifled a giggle. namjoon always got spacey and blissful when his stomach was being rubbed. sometimes, jimin would rub it without reason, simply for making namjoon feel good. he always got breathy and soft whenever someone rubbed his stomach and it warmed jimin’s heart to no end.

namjoon closed his eyes, letting himself focus on the feeling of jimin’s hand on his stomach. jimin was too good for him.

“thank you, jimin ah,” namjoon kissed jimin’s hair.

jimin smiled. “anytime, hyung.”

#minjoon #sick!namjoon #bts sickfic #bts emeto

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andorknuckles · 5 years

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An analysis of the 3 Smash Brothers Leaks and their credibility.

First, I wanna share this image

This is a simplified version of my initial analysis of the leaks, with the claims broken down, and ordered from when they were first posted. Of these three leaks, only the first came from before Joker’s reveal, with the second one coming mere days after the fact, while the third one came a little over a week later. I do want to stress that even if I make a perfect case for destroying a rumor’s credibility, that doesn’t mean I 100% believe it will be false. Credibility doesn’t equal probability.

4Chan Leak

This one won’t take long. I don’t think this one has any real credibility, and it’s really only getting attention because they happened to get a lucky guess. That doesn’t mean it’s necessarily wrong, but there’s almost nothing one can use to gauge its veracity. On top of that, all of the choices are rooted heavily in pre-existing speculation.

Joker is the most out-there of the five listed here, but Sakurai did state an enjoyment of Persona 5. Realistically, though, if enough people make fake leaks, then at least one person is going to get one thing right, so I’m chalking this up to coincidence.

Infamous leaker Vergeben frequently discussed how Square was getting a character in the Fighter Pass. I’ll be discussing this more down the line.

Microsoft had some suspect things to say, describing themselves as ‘third parties’ at E3 2018, leading to considerable discussion regarding a number of their characters.

Edelgard has been speculated as an obvious choice for a cross-promotion.

Sylux has been built up as an upcoming villain/chaotic-neutral in the Metroid series for some time, and so cross-promotion with a theoretical appearance in Metroid Prime 4 would seem logical.

As such, these five characters really just seem like safe picks, with Joker as the possible exception. Other than listing the names of the characters, they do say one other interesting thing, that incomplete character models exist, which I think segues into an important bit of speculation I have regarding the Fighter Pass and how it’s being developed.

Intermission: Important Speculation

Smash 4′s DLC development cycle seemed a little improvised and unstructured, with each phase of development seemingly existing as a self-contained run through 3 or 4 characters, with one of those characters receiving a bit of a head start. In Smash Ultimate’s case, however, I have little doubt that the entire run of characters has at least entered the planning stages, and that the development model is something far more graceful than Smash 4′s.

The (presumed) process model used for Smash 4 was to create characters in batches, spreading the team out across a small number of characters, making sure that there’s enough for everyone to be working on something. In many ways this model seemed to work, but there are certain problems it must have created. Namely, balance testers can’t adjust attack properties until designers are done working on hitboxes. Designers can’t work on hitbox and hurtbox placement until the animators are done animating. Animators can’t animate until the Modelers are done modelling and rigging, etc.

This is why, for the Fighters Pass, a pipeline style of development is ideal. A pipeline model would consist of something like Team A, Team B, Team C, etc.

Team A finishes the first parts of Character 1′s development, then passes them on to Team B as they start on Character 2. Now Team B can finish that part of Character 1, and pass that on to Team C. This continues, until you eventually have Team A working on Character 3, Team B working on Character 2, Team C on Character 1, etc. This way no one’s time is ever wasted, and character releases can happen on a near constant basis.

I may go into further detail on why I think this is the case at a later date, but for now the evidence largely comes from how the two characters have been released so close together, and yet always one at a time.

5Channel Leak 1

So, here it is, the big one. The leak that seems to have gained the most traction. It’s a common misconception that it and the second 5Channel leak are one-and-the-same, but the two contain very different levels of information, with very different levels of credibility. Erdrick, Hayabusa, Steve?, and Doomslayer. A mix of a character from a series hugely popular in Japan, an NES character who had a brief resurgence in the 00s, a rep from arguably the most popular game of all time, and a character from the most influential and most ported FPS of all time.

This one also gets some points for predicting P5R would be coming in 2019, but then loses them again for getting the specifics wrong, neither mentioning its full title, nor getting the general time frame of its release right. Normally just getting the official abbreviation of an announced game right gives a lot of credibility, but that information had already leaked from an official website registration.

So, the character this and the next leak both include, as well as the one the former leak has a Square Enix-shaped opening for... Erdrick.

This is the character that tends to grant a lot of credibility to these leaks, as the character was rumored here well before a certain datamining incident occurred. In the code of Smash Ultimate, there previously existed data for three then-unreleased characters. However, the data for two of those characters did not reference those characters by name, but instead gave them codenames. Specifically, Joker was referenced as ‘Jack’, while the other character was given the name ‘Brave’.

While speculation is open as to what the name ‘Brave’ could mean, such as an equivalent to NATO code, where a word sharing the first letter of the character’s name is used, or perhaps a reference to the game Bravely Default, the most common interpretation is that this refers to the Japanese name of the Dragon Quest main character’s title, which literally translates to brave.

The fact that all three leaks match the datamine in implying the character after Joker is Erdrick is part of what makes them so credible. However, in the case of this leak, it all comes crumbling down thanks to what it says about E3.

“Doom Guy and Steve? will be announced at E3 2019.”

Hoo nelly, I smell a contradiction, or at the very least, a bit of an unlikely scenario.

So, a part of me thinks this person expected Erdrick to be out before E3. That Joker and Erdrick (and maybe Piranha Plant) would be released at roughly the same time, just because of how Smash 4′s DLC went down.

But that rides on the assumption that this leaker actually meant the characters would be coming in the order they posted, and that Erdrick isn’t coming in May or something. But let’s go with that, let’s run with those premises.

Premise 1) Erdrick isn’t next

This Premise is a bit dead-on-arrival, since it means that ‘Brave’ has to either refer to a different character, or that data from the fourth or fifth character slipped in next to the first one. But for the sake of argument, we’ll say that ‘Brave’ actually means ‘Steve?’ due to the similar lettering.

In this scenario, we get both classic and relatively modern reps for Smash, both of which are very well known globally and, while a bit too ‘obvious’ for some, are definitely worthy of inclusion. If there’s ever going to be a time when the Fighters Pass reveals more than one character at a time, it’s going to be E3. If that does happen, I’d assume one would be released on the day, while the other would be for release down the line. Either way, we’re left with one big problem:

The only two characters left to reveal are incredibly Japan-centric. Japanese fans are pretty fond of these characters, but the global appeal of Dragon Quest, while not terrible has never been particularly high, while Ninja Gaiden’s declining sales in the US are part of why the franchise’s brief resurgence in the 00s eventually died off.

All-in-all, these are just two characters that wouldn’t really bring much fanfare if they were all that July 2019-February 2020 had to offer. While Erdrick might work as the final curtain call, it would ultimately mean ending Smash Ultimate off on a spark, rather than a bang. 8 months is a long time to announce nothing but a pair of niche characters.

Premise 2) Erdrick is next

After that last breakdown, having THREE at E3 would really just push the problem even further. Unless Nintendo is secretly publishing a Ninja Gaiden game that’s intended to be the next Breath of the Wild in terms of its magnitude, Ryu Hayabusa simply cannot work as the only character to be announced in all of the second half of 2019.

Unless you want to believe that there’s a second Fighters Pass coming (and that it will be filling out the rest of the space before February 2020), this is a scenario of different factors pushing at each other until something has to give, and that something is the announcement of Doomslayer and Steve? at E3, and if that’s breaking, then this leak breaks down even further.

Oh, and the idea that Steve? was moved from base game to DLC? I find that idea rather suspect. You can’t really change something like that so late in development without making a footprint on your game. Perhaps they scrubbed the files very effectively, with the only remnants being the Microsoft/Rare Spirit data people found, and the extra development time the removal of Steve? created going to Echo Fighter development. Maybe that’s why Isabelle is half-derivative, half-original? Probably not, though.

5Channel Leak 2

When you actually leak something that couldn’t have been reasonably guessed beforehand, you immediately start off on the right foot. Of course, some people have leaked things like this before, and had the other parts of their leak turn out false. In those scenarios, it can be because a person had inside information, and added their own made up information to it for one reason or another (trolling, not wanting to be caught, etc.), and in other scenarios, it’s because they get their information from multiple sources, and one or more of them turn out to be wrong.

However, most of the rest of their Smash leaks have proven to be correct, or are thus-far indeterminate. Joker’s stage was Mementos, and Nintendo has been making a suspiciously big push for the new Dragon Quest games. The only mistake in the leak was that of Jack Frost’s appearance ‘as a skill’ on the Mementos stage.

The details regarding Joker are things I would consider a safe assumption. Mementos just makes sense as a Persona 5 stage, while Jack Frost is a mascot for the superseries, as well as Atlus in general. That he would appear as a stage Easter Egg or in Joker’s moveset is a reasonable expectation. It’s possible that the Leaker (or their source) saw Morgana and thought he was Jack Frost due to a lack of familiarity, or that a Jack Frost cameo was planned but eventually removed.

Another possibility is that this person knew of the datamine information ahead of the general public, learning of the Mementos stage, and used the codename Jack to further spurn on their expectations regarding a Jack Frost appearance.

But that’s a narrative that really can’t be proven, and requires further narrative to explain why they know what they know about the Dragon Quest promotion, or the Granblue game.

So... this leak passes the test. The Erdrick stuff lines up with Vergeben’s generally accurate Smash leak portfolio, Mementos was accurate, and Brave definitely lines up with Erdrick. Personally, I’d rather almost any other character to Erdrick, but I’ll at least take having the remaining three characters still being a mystery.

#Smash Leaks #smash brothers

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artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

ain't no big deal, it's innocent (bengela with a side of jivy) - trashqueens

a/n: i kissed a girl au for that killer lipsync, i would also like to add that this fic doesn’t reflect my opinions on the characters mentioned.

Dela was your typical, run-off-the-mill sweet high school girl. She was smart but not too smart, she was well-liked, she was in six different clubs in Rupaul’s High School. She was head of the student welfare group and had a football captain for a boyfriend, making them the power couple in school, which only served to boost her popularity. As the terminally delightful bubble of happiness, her laughter and enthusiasm was always infectious. She never failed to make anyone smile. There was no way anyone could resist her charm.

Shangela was just your typical grade A cold bitch. No, seriously. It made sense, since she was the head cheerleader, and unlike Dela, her popularity was built on fear as opposed to kindness. She was the kind of girl who, if she smiled in just the right way, could easily send even the seniors running in the opposite direction. She was often blunt and upfront, never bothering to talk behind someone’s back if she could just say it to their face. In some ways, her I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude was almost admirable, and most people either envied or hated her. Or both.

It seemed unlikely that two girls with such distinctive differences could ever be friends. True enough, Dela and Shangela rarely ever crossed paths. Dela was often too busy going for student leader meetings or drama class, and Shangela spent all her time on the field making freshmen cheerleaders cry.

So when Dela entered her first dance class that year, and saw Shangela in the studio, she was, well, not quite apprehensive, but curious at least. She knew the rumours surrounding Shangela, of course - she’s a bitch and a real slut too sometimes, I heard she stole some girl’s boyfriend and blew him in the back alley last year - but nonetheless, never having really interacted with her, she didn’t want to make assumptions. She prided herself on being fair and congenial. It couldn’t hurt to try making a new friend, right?

She set her bag down by the side and made her way into the studio, already dressed in her nude leotard. Shangela was on her knees in front of the mirror doing stretches. Dela watched as she bent over backwards at the waist, hands landing gracefully on the floor to form a perfect bridge. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted as she breathed evenly.

Dela approached her, leaning against the warm-up bars. “That’s pretty impressive,” she began.

Shangela’s eyes opened, and she straightened up before turning to look at Dela, lips quirked in what could’ve been a smile, but probably wasn’t. She didn’t respond immediately, and it took Dela a few moments to realised she wasn’t going to get a reply. She coughed awkwardly.

“Um. So, anyway, I’m -”

“Girl, please, I know who you are.” Shangela cut in with a roll of her eyes, standing up. “Dela Creme, RuPaul’s poster girl, whatever whatever. And you know me as the bitch.”

She blinked. “More like, the cheerleader, so I didn’t really expect to see you here.”

Shangela easily forced her legs into a 180 degrees split and said, “I’m a professional. I heard y’all was hiring.”

Dela was surprised, but said nothing. She didn’t think Shangela was the kind to actually do anything outside of cheerleading, but clearly she didn’t play into that stereotype. It was noticeable in the way she moved, too, her body amazingly fluid, and as she stretched in that split Dela could see her lean and muscular thighs.

The instructor came in shortly after, and they got started on their dance choreography. Throughout the lesson, she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl beside her, watching her precise and purposeful movements, always in time with the beat, perfectly in sync. Shangela was focused in everything that she did, that in-it-to-win-it attitude apparently evident in dance, too, and not just cheerleading. It was almost oddly mesmerising, and Dela found most of her attention on Shangela rather than the class itself. She hadn’t even realised that practice was over until the instructor dismissed them.

It had been a long day for her. She was tired, that was all, she thought while trying to rationalise her lack of focus during today’s practice. She started on her cooling-down exercises as people started to file out. The other dancers often left as soon as they could, but she always liked staying a little later behind, to get some rare peace and quiet.

Spreading her legs slightly, she slowly bent down to touch her toes. The burn in her thighs felt good, she was practically bent over halfways with her palms flat on the floor. When she got back up, she saw movement in the mirror, and whipped around to find Shangela halfway out the door, staring at her. There was no one else around.

“What?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Shangela just smirked and left.

***

What people often didn’t know about Dela was that the exterior mask she put on hid a vastly different person on the inside. She’d always had to pretend to be someone else to be liked - and while it was her own decision, she did get tired of the whole shtick sometimes. She sometimes fantasized about saying fuck it and dropping everything she’d worked so hard for, but she knew she never would. There was nothing else for her but this life, and there was too much at stake. So she continued being the teachers’ pet, turning up for all her classes and club meetings, dating the perfect guy. And she told herself that she was fine.

***

“I’m not saying that I believe the rumours, but you should probably be on your guard, either way.”

Dela always had lunch with her best friend Jinkx, and her girlfriend Ivy, in the cafeteria. Benjamin used to join them all the time when he first started seeing Dela, but he now usually hung out with his football mates.

She thought about it while sipping on her orange juice. “She wasn’t that bad, she seemed kind of nice, actually? I mean, in a room containing Thorgy and Milk, she was at the very least bearable.”

Ivy giggled. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Jinkx shook her head, unconvinced. “You can’t always trust people who ‘seem nice’. Look what happened with Rolaskatox.”

Jinkx had run for prom queen last year, with Roxxxy, Alaska and Detox as the three other nominees. The notorious clique tried to ‘befriend’ Jinkx with the full intention of kicking her out eventually, but she snatched the crown nonetheless. She never held any grudges, water off a duck’s back and all that, though Dela knew that she was still wary sometimes.

“Alaska isn’t that bad,” Dela tried to defend.

“She’s the lesser of three evils,” Ivy agreed.

“You know what I mean. Just be careful. Maybe she’ll try to steal Benjamin from you - though we’d probably have to thank her for that.”

Dela sighed. She knew that they didn’t approve of him. Sure, he was always busy at football practice, and he sometimes stared at other girls, and he wasn’t always the most sensitive, but he loved her. And relationship was about compromise, wasn’t it?

“He’s not that bad, guys.”

“Who’s not that bad?” Benjamin appeared at their table, squeezing in next to Dela. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and planted a kiss on her cheek. From across the table, she caught Ivy and Jinkx sharing a look.

“No one,” Dela smiled sweetly at him.

“You’re actually spending time with Dela today? Not eating with your friends?” Jinkx’s lips were curled upwards in false cheer.

“Came down to see my favourite lesbians,” he chortled like it was the funniest joke in the world. “Come on, give a guy a show, can I watch y’all make out?”

Jinkx looked like she was about to snap at him, but Ivy clasped a hand around her fist and whispered softly into her ear. Dela slapped Ben lightly on his shoulder. “Stop it,” she chided.

Ben just laughed again. “I’m kidding, babe. Anyway, just wanted to tell you that I’ll be at practice tonight. Big game coming up and all.”

Dela frowned. “But we had plans for tonight, you promised you’d accompany me to Adore’s birthday party. I told you weeks ago -”

“Man, I’m sorry, I just can’t, okay? I know you understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby, love you.” He pressed another kiss against the corner of her lips and left. Jinkx held up a black-nailed middle finger to his retreating back.

“Honestly, Dela, he’s such a dick, why do you still -”

“Jinkxy,” Dela cut her off, pressing her fingers to her temple and massaging. “Please. I don’t wanna talk about it. We’re fine.”

Jinkx must have sensed her discomfort, and shut up. Ivy laced her fingers through Jinkx’s, the simple gesture instantly calming her down, and Jinkx turned to her girlfriend, love and adoration evident in her eyes. She leaned in for a small kiss, still smiling.

Dela watched the encounter with a slight pang of jealousy. She’d only ever been like that with Benjamin in their honeymoon phase, but their spark never lasted more than a few months. They’d been dating for almost two years, and she really still did enjoy his company, but she wasn’t sure if he was still that into her. She was completely okay with being the one who invested more into the relationship, but watching Jinkx and Ivy, so loving even years into their relationship, made her long for more.

A sudden increase in chatter volume made Dela turn around. The cheerleaders swarmed in as a whole bunch, with Shangela at the front, still clad in her white Halleloo Squad uniform. Her blond hair was tied up in a high ponytail with a white scrunchie, and she looked more like she’d just stepped out of the shower, rather than spent 3 hours sweating in the middle of the hot field.

“Jeez, the speak of the devil syndrome is real today,” Jinkx commented. Dela laughed.

She watched as the group sauntered over to the footballers’ table, most of them shamelessly flirting with the guys. Courtney was halfway draped over Andrew, tilting her head and giggling at everything he said. And Shangela -

Dela tried not to watch, she didn’t want to be the easily jealous or possessive type. But Shangela was seated right next to Benjamin, eyeing him purposefully, that lopsided grin on her face once more. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, saying something that Dela couldn’t catch from a distance, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Jinkx must’ve caught her looking, because she said, “Dela, she’s doing it on purpose and you know it.”

Dela turned to her friend, whose eyebrows were furrowed, eyes full of concern. She swallowed and looked back down at her plate, picking up her apple and taking a bite even though she wasn’t hungry. “You don’t know that. She could just be being friendly.”

“I think Dela knows what she’s doing,” Ivy said lightly, and looked at Jinkx meaningfully. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Jinkx nodded and gathered her belongings.

Dela got up, but turned around one last time. What she wasn’t expecting was for Shangela to be unabashedly staring right back, and grinning. She winked.

Confused and flushing uncontrollably, Dela let herself be dragged away by her friends.

***

Turns out, Dela also shared another class with Shangela in Calculus, due to the timetable switch. She didn’t have any of her closer friends with her, so she was sitting alone in the second row when Shangela walked in. That in itself was a bit of surprise, given that A) Shangela was almost always late, and B) she usually came in a box. (It was a long story.)

Shangela picked the seat next to Dela, which was even more of a surprise. And her first words were, “You know, your guy’s kinda cute and all, but I don’t really know what you see in him. Kinda boring, huh?”

Startled, Dela took a moment to recover. She didn’t know what Shangela’s motives were. Did she want Benjamin for herself? Or was she sowing discord for no reason? She replied, “I’m sorry, that was kind of rude? He’s a great boyfriend.”

Shangela just snorted. “If you say so, cutie.”

Dela’s insides twisted uncomfortably. Shangela was really good at making her riled up for no reason, in a way no one had been able to before. Something about her just… got under Dela’s skin. It was unnerving.

She spent the rest of the lesson in silence, concentrating hard on the questions on her worksheet, trying to keep up with the pace. She forced herself not to notice Shangela’s messy scrawl of words across the paper, the smell of her cherry chapstick, or the way her collarbones jutted out when she leaned forward in her seat.

Needless to say, she kind of failed.

When the bell rang, Dela gathered up her things quickly, desperate for some fresh air outside the classroom. She had been cooped up too long, her mind a whirlwind of strange thoughts. She was the first one out of the classroom, and as she speed-walked along the corridors to the next class, she pretended not to hear Shangela’s voice calling out her name from behind her.

***

dela: jinkxy you there?

jinkx: what’s up darlin’

dela: oh uhm

dela: i don’t know… shangela’s been acting weird and it’s all a little confusing

jinkx: i mean i doubt she’s ever acted normal but

jinkx: is this about ben?

dela: umm… maybe? probably?

jinkx: you should talk to him

jinkx: and then probably also talk to her

jinkx: and then you can talk to me and i’ll tell you that you deserve better :-)

dela: awww you sweetheart

dela: but ok I’ll do that

dela: love you <3

jinkx: <3

***

Dela wasn’t always this popular. She was a bit of an outcast back in 5th grade, when rumours started spreading about her and Jinkx. They were just really good friends, but people thought it was more than that, and, well - 5th graders were insensitive and mean. Really mean.

It’s not like Dela didn’t already know that Jinkx was gay. She never had a problem with it, Jinkx was her best friend and she’d always be a hundred percent supportive. But Dela knew that she herself was straight, that she couldn’t not be straight, and it’d be weird for her to like like another girl. The thought of people calling her a dyke or a lesbo was downright frightening, and so she’d kept any strange or unnatural feelings she’d ever had to herself. She wanted to be a good girl, she wanted to grow up and be a successful woman with a loving husband and three kids and she wanted her family to be proud of her.

So she avoided the mean girls at all costs, throwing all her attention into her work and achievements in various fields. By the end of her sophomore year, she’d somehow also managed to catch the eye of the most popular boy, and that was when she started dating Ben. The girls no longer called her names, and she was more than happy to leave the past in the past. And if she ever felt like there was something missing in her life, a subconscious thought that caused mild anxiety to ripple through her, well, she was great at suppressing it.

***

“So… Do you know Shangela well or something?”

Dela tried to play her question as casual as possible, and predictably, Ben didn’t pick up the cue.

“Sort of. The Halleloo Squad’s always practicing while we’re playing footie on the field, so. She’s a popular one, isn’t she?”

“I saw her eyeing you, the other day in the cafeteria.” Dela shrugged as Ben turned to look at her. “She was flirting, and, I dunno, you seemed to be having a lot of fun too.”

He groaned. “Aw, come on, babe, don’t pull that card. You know I hate that whole jealousy bullshit. She’s just cool, okay? Christ, I swear you fucking do this to every girl I so much as make eye contact with.”

Resentment burned inside of Dela, but she shut up and dropped the topic.

***

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dela couldn’t help but notice Shangela everywhere. She saw her in the corridors while walking to her next class, talking and flirting shamelessly with Benjamin whenever he had a break between football matches, and on one particular occasion, smoking a cigarette alone behind the main building, a common hiding spot. She never seemed to be able to avoid the other girl - her aura was always present, to the point where Dela just always instinctively knew whenever she was around. It was driving her a little crazy, but the day she caught Shangela with Ben in an empty classroom was the final straw.

Dela was just looking for a quiet place to get her mind off things and finish her art project. Her favourite classroom, which was always empty after the main lessons, just happened to be occupied at that time. She’d heard voices from inside, and was about to go elsewhere to try her luck, when she recognised Shangela’s laughter. Followed by Ben’s voice.

She crept around the doorway, and there they were - Shangela sitting on the teacher’s desk, Ben with his arms on either side of her and pressing his lips firmly against hers, Shangela’s legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

Dela couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. She stared in shock, hand clapped over her mouth, until she couldn’t take it anymore and fled. She ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could, until she couldn’t breathe, until she was kneeling on the floor in an abandoned corner gasping for air.

She left for home earlier than usual, and stayed in bed the rest of the night, unable to get the mental images out of her head. The way Shangela’s fingernails were pressed into the back of his neck, her closed eyes with those long, long eyelashes, the way her lips interlocked with his.

She tried and tried and tried, but she couldn’t cry. She wasn’t even upset. Not even the slightest bit of anger at Ben cheating on her.

All she knew was that it all felt wrong.

***

dela: you’re a cunt and i’m breaking up with you.

[you have blocked benjamin putnam.]

***

Dela walked into the girls’ locker room the next day at 6, just as the cheerleaders were done showering after practice. She caught the tail-end of Alaska’s ‘byeeeeee’ as she left, and then there was silence. She hadn’t seen Shangela come out, so Dela knew she’d still be in there, and hopefully alone, so they’d get to talk.

She sat herself down at the benches outside the shower room and waited, nervously wringing her hands together. She needed to, as Jinkx so nicely worded it, ‘confront a bitch and punch her in the face’. Even after a sleepless night of her mind running endlessly, she still felt nothing but confusion, and she knew she had business to sort out with Shangela.

Soon enough, Shangela stepped out into the locker room, wearing a black and white polka dotted dress, wet hair dripping down her back. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Dela.

“You lookin’ for me, Miss Congeniality?”

Dela stood up and approached her, trying her hardest to quell the pounding in her chest. “Fuck you,” she said shakily. “Stop pretending. I know what you’re doing. You don’t fool me with your innocent act, I saw you with Ben yesterday.”

Shangela didn’t even bat an eyelid at that, just smirked, drying her hair with her towel while still looking Dela in the eye. “You enjoy the show? To be fair, he did come onto me first, I wasn’t even interested, so he can take credit. I must say though, still tasted the cherry flavour on him, don’t know if it was from you or some other girl -”

“Shut up!” Dela’s voice quavered, and her hands were trembling slightly. Heat pooled inside of her, but she wouldn’t let herself back down. “You’re a bitch, I know what they say about you, that you’re a slut with no morals.”

If anything, Shangela’s grinned widened. “I bet there’s one rumour you haven’t heard yet.” She stepped forward, inching closer to Dela, who started backing away until she was pressed against a wall. Dela hated how cowardly she felt, how powerless she was, confronting another girl over another guy when she didn’t even have the guts to admit how she really felt. She was lost and confused and utterly cornered by Shangela, who was merely five inches away by then.

Shangela leaned in and said softly, “Don’t you know what this is really about?”

Dela didn’t know what happened or who initiated it, but suddenly warm lips were on hers and she was kissing Shangela like her life depended on it. She was all soft skin and kissable red lips, and all of sudden everything clicked and made sense and for the first time in a long while, Dela felt like she was doing something right.

Shangela’s tongue brushed against her lips, teasing her gently and she couldn’t help but grab the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer, wanting more but not getting enough. She felt Shangela’s hands grabbing her ass moaned into her mouth, lifting her own legs to wrap them around Shangela’s waist. It felt so undeniably good, threading her fingers through the other girl’s hair and pulling, hearing Shangela make those soft little noises of pleasure, and Dela felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine. Kissing girls was a million times better than kissing boys, why hadn’t she ever realised? How could she have been so blind?

The loud slam of a locker door from somewhere in the distance snapped them both back to reality, and they practically jumped apart. Shangela looked positively ruined, hair wet and messy and eyes heavy with lust. Dela could only imagine how much worse she looked. Then her eyes widened in shock as it finally hit her - she’d kissed a girl, and actually liked it.

“Fuck,” she said, “Fuck, I’m gay.”

Shangela stared at her for one long moment, until she finally burst out in a fit of uncharacteristic giggles. Dela, still startled silly, joined in shortly after, until they were both laughing uncontrollably and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry,” Shangela choked, still wheezing, “You let a girl seduce you for weeks, then make out with her in the locker room like you’ve been doing it your whole life, and that’s the first thing you say?”

“I’m not thinking straight,” Dela grinned, leaning her head back against the wall and one hand braced on her stomach. “You know, you did actually flirt with Ben a lot, and I got confused about which side the jealousy ran, so that’s your fault.”

“Maybe not the best way to get your attention, but it worked, so.” Shangela, still slightly breathless but much calmer, smirked. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yes.”

***

jinkx: so how’d it go

dela: i punched her

jinkx: wait what?????

dela: in the mouth

dela: with my mouth

jinkx: OMG WHAT DETAILS NOW

jinkx: hello???

dela: she’s kind of busy at the moment. -s

dela: or at least, her hands are. -s

jinkx: omg you fuckers

dela: that’s the idea. -s

#bendelacreme #shangela laquifa wadley #jinkx monsoon #ivy winters #jivy #i kissed a girl #high school au #lesbian au #cisgirl au #trashqueens #rpdr fanfiction #submission #dela x shangela #as3

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invisibletinkerer · 6 years

Text

Fic: 30 Seconds Later (chapter 6)

Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 5 -- Chapter 6 -- Chapter 7

Length: ~4000 words

AO3 Link.

As it turned out, Stanley really did still have some of Ford’s supply of mercury. After some searching they found it tucked away in a crate near the far end of the attic space, the crate labeled ‘Useless toxic shit’ with black marker. There was another crate next to it labeled ‘Useful toxic shit’, too. When Ford questioned Stanley about it, he scratched the back of his head and mumbled something about the portal.

Of course, the portal didn’t use mercury, and the portal had been Stanley’s focus. It was still hard to imagine his twin brother getting through all the science needed to understand the technology – but the labeling scheme was undeniably the Stanley he knew.

As for moonstones, Stanley sold them in the gift shop, together with a few other types of crystalline rocks that he explained could be marketed as ‘mysterious’.

“Moonstones are mysterious, Stanley,” Ford protested, running his fingers through the drawer of polished rocks he was presented with. Stanley’s whole schtick was disturbing. He deliberately focused on the stones and picked a few of the larger ones that would be suitable for the barrier, pocketing them. “To be more precise,” he continued, “The properties of moonstones in conjunction with the supernatural have been insufficiently studied. They’re a key component in the cure for lycanthropy, for example, but I never managed to isolate exactly how it works.” Of course, that had been before Bill, when all he had cared about was finding answers to questions that few people even thought to ask. Before he’d been assured that he would change the world.

“You know I’m—” Stanley grimaced. “—I’m not actually gonna charge you for those.”

“What?”

“Reflex. I’m not used to giving away merchandise. Don’t worry, I really aren’t gonna charge you.”

Ford threw him a suspicious glare.

“Anyway, glad to hear you still get excited over nerd stuff.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Stanley shrugged, a small smile on his face. “I guess it means I’ve missed you.” For a moment there was something of teenage Stanley in his pose, or in his tone, and maybe, just maybe, Ford had missed him too.

He’d missed him so much.

Something in Ford’s guts twisted. He couldn’t stand it. Not now, not here. “Then how could you do all this?” he snapped, turning around and gesturing at the shop. The words poured out as soon as he let them. “You could have done anything! And you choose to take my identity and use it to mock everything I’ve worked for?”

Stanley looked at him with a pained expression, but seemed at a momentary loss for words.

Ford paced a small circle, flexing both hands. The mockery hurt more than the fact that so much was gone. It didn’t matter, he knew it didn’t. Bill mattered, the portal and the rift mattered, false advertising and unrealistically taxidermized jackalopes didn’t. It’d been thirty years, Stanley had lived a whole life here, and Stanford’s work had not changed the world – and that was a good thing.

And yet it was all wrong. “I don’t understand why! You know the Gravity Falls anomalies are real, and yet you – you pretend to pretend that they are!”

Stanley sighed and leaned back with his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’m doing.”

“What possessed you to—” Ford stopped, backing off a few steps before he even realized what he was doing. There was a yellow glint in Stanley’s eyes.

Stanley stared at him. “Oh no. Ford, no.”

Ford was shaking his head. Stanley’s eyes were human. Something had been reflected in his glasses. That’s all it was. It had to be all it was.

“Stanford, remember to breathe.”

Ford hit his back against a shelf. He resisted the urge to pick up something – anything – to use as a weapon. Stanley wasn’t going to attack him and he was fine. He managed to take a deep breath and felt his shoulders sag slightly. “I’m—I’m alright,” he said. “I just thought I saw – something.”

“Yeah...” Stanley said slowly. He came a few steps closer, lifting his glasses and opening his eyes wide. “No demons here, see?”

“No.” Ford straightened his back. “Of course not.”

Stanley released a sigh. “Y’know,” he said pensively, “I always suspected you’d hate this Mystery Shack business.” He crossed his arms. “I guess I should apologize for that, but it’s not like I did it because I wanted to mock you. It just turned out I’m pretty good at making people pay for overpriced souvenirs and made-up stories, and I did need the money.” He met Ford’s eyes again, the lines in his face making him look older than ever.

Ford took a deep breath. “Yes, I know,” he said tensely. “You needed money.”

“I could hardly do it your way, Poindexter. I’m not a scientist.”

That made Ford huff in spite of himself. “I would have agreed on that more readily before you operated my portal.”

“Heh.” Stanley gave him a tilted smile. “Doesn’t count. I couldn’t make money off that, could I?”

Maybe not – or maybe he could have, but he’d never tried. Ford should have been happy for that. He gestured vaguely around the gift shop again. “But why this?”

“A bit of a long story. Wanna hear it?”

It would be an utter waste of time. None of it mattered. He didn’t want to know. “Yes,” he said.

Somehow the two of them ended up in Stanley’s TV chair as his old twin told him about the first few weeks and years after he’d found himself alone in an unfamiliar house with a burnt-out portal. Well, Stanley ended up in the chair, with Ford perching on one of the armrests next to the well-preserved T-rex skull that Ford had found once and Stanley for some reason had turned into a makeshift coffee table.

Apparently Stanley had been too broke to buy food. The townspeople had mistaken him for Stanford and offered him money for tours of his collections, so of course he’d taken the offer. And since he didn’t know what the items actually were, he’d resorted to fakes and jokes to satisfy the customers. Afterwards, he’d kept doing it because it worked. Ford had to admit it made a desperate and utterly Stanley sort of sense.

Stanley never said it explicitly, but it started to occur to Ford that his brother had been homeless at the time he’d arrived in Gravity Falls. Homeless, broke, and with no particular marketable skills. The revelation made a few things fall into place, but at the same time it shattered an assumption that Ford had been clinging to for over a decade – Stanley hadn’t been fine after being banished from home at seventeen. A trickle of old, long-suppressed guilt threatened to well up in his throat, but he pushed it back down. It was well past obsolete, in any case.

Stanley was fine now. And if he wasn’t, it was once again his own fault.

For bringing Ford back. The irony was thick as tar.

Ford didn’t ask about details when Stanley mentioned faking his own death. To all the world Stanley was dead, and Stanford was a changed man. He didn’t ask about their family, either. Had their mother bought it? Had Shermie? Had Ford’s existence really been so negligible that no one had noticed or cared? He knew the answer, and the alternative. He’d ‘change the world’. This had to be a preferable state.

Stanley went on to tell him how he’d developed the business, what worked and what didn’t, and how he simultaneously inched his way towards an understanding of the portal’s construction. Listening to him, it sounded like this tourist trap had been the first time he’d actually been successful at something, but at the same time he’d kept berating himself for failing to make the portal work.

Ford kept his half-digested thoughts to himself. He’d asked for information – now he knew. He just didn’t know what to do with it.

“It seems you did well for yourself,” he said finally.

“You still don’t like it.”

“No.” He couldn’t. He braided his hands together and smiled slightly. “You made millions, didn’t you?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Stanley stared at him like he’d been punched. For a moment Ford thought he was going to physically punch back. In the end, though, his brother merely leaned his gray head back and chuckled. “Put it all together and I definitely did. How about that?”

Ford didn’t reply. He opened his palms again and found himself gazing at his own fingers. There were half a dozen emotions warring for expression in his guts, but nothing came out.

This wasn’t important. This didn’t matter. This was half his brother’s life. He should never have asked. He half-registered that the stinging cuts on his chest had morphed into a throbbing ache that was starting to spread to his head. He hadn’t had any coffee since he woke up and he should fix that.

“Look, Sixer,” Stanley said, breaking him out of it, “If you’re still thinking about that science project, I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t thinking about that. Was he? “You ruined my chances, Stanley!”

“I know! It was an accident, but I was being a knucklehead 17-year-old about it. I’m apologizing, I don’t know what else I can do!”

“What’s the difference!” Stanford stood up and immediately wobbled, trying to hide it by putting a hand on the armrest and turning to face his brother. “I’m up against a demon that’s going to destroy the world and I don’t even have access to a laboratory because you turned my house into a curiosity!”

Stanley rose to his feet too, making Ford step backwards and collide with the TV. “We’re up against a demon, because you decided that making demonic pacts was a thing a scientist should do!” He pushed a finger painfully against Ford’s chest. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I am not you! I couldn’t live your life!”

“Then why did you pretend to be me?”

“I had no choice! Dammit Ford, have you been listening at all? It’s been thirty years! What did you expect?”

“I didn’t!” It all came down to that. It didn’t matter. He didn’t expect to survive long enough for it to become a problem. He still had to stand against Bill. But it hurt. “I didn’t! Expect! Thirty years!” He sank down on the floor with his back to the TV, panting.

The angry frustration drained from Stanley’s face. “I—” he tried, then stopped. “Of course you didn’t,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. He crouched in front of Ford. “If it helps, neither did I.”

They sat in silence for a several heartbeats, neither quite looking at the other.

“It’s ridiculous,” Ford said eventually, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “We’re wasting time and the rift is still sitting in the basement.” He took a deep breath. “There’s a certain non-reproduceable substance hidden near the center of Gravity Falls Valley that I believe could be used to neutralize the rift by sealing it away. I need to go there and retrieve it as soon as possible.”

Stanley frowned. “Not today, you’re not,” he said, as if there could be no argument. “We’re gonna wait for Mabel and the girls. And assuming they get that unicorn hair, we’re gonna set up the barrier, and then we’re gonna consider ourselves safe for a few more days while you recover from sleep-deprivation and malnutrition and whatever else it is you’re suffering from. If it needs to be done sooner, you’ll have to send one of us out.”

Ford opened his mouth to protest, but Stanley raised a hand to stop him. “I have eyes. You’re still weak as a kitten and I don’t trust you to either drive or hike, and I don’t want to have to carry you.”

“Yes, dad,” Ford said sarcastically.

Stanley huffed. “Our dad would have told you to man up and walk it off, and you know it.”

“I know.” Ford still wasn’t going to ask about their family. “He might have been right, too.”

“Not gonna risk it.” He reached out and patted Ford’s arm.

Ford sighed. His body would surely hold up as long as he wasn’t attacked by anything. And Bill wasn’t going to allow him to rest for long. But if the barrier worked and it was safe – maybe a night and a day to collect himself. He’d allow himself that. “But Mabel could still fail,” he reminded both of them.

“In that case we’ll have to make some better sleeping arrangements for you. We’ll figure it out.”

“Mr Pines!” Soos appeared through the doorway from the gift shop. “I’ve found something that’s like, a problem. Since we have a secret basement and we don’t want the shack to fall down there or anything. I’m thinking you should probably come and look at it as soon as possible before we get the concrete doods to fix the foundation.” He glanced at Stanford. “If it’s not a really bad time.”

“It’s fine, Soos.” Stan rose to his feet and stretched his back. Ford wouldn’t be surprised if he was happy to have an excuse to get away, except he didn’t go immediately. “Dipper!” he called instead towards the direction of the stairs. “Come down here!”

“Coming!” Dipper called from upstairs, and a moment later he appeared in the hallway, surprisingly with a small pig trailing him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re great,” Stanley told him. “I’m gonna have to go take care of some business with the repairs, though. And I figured, you’re a nerd, my brother’s a nerd, you probably wanna get to know each other a bit, right? Well, he’s all yours.”

Dipper perked up. “Is that okay?” he asked Ford. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

Ford stood up, deliberately dusting himself off. “I might, but I don’t think my brother is going to let me.” Considering he’d just called a 12-year-old to babysit him. He sighed, putting his hands away behind his back. “It’s fine, though. Dipper.” He had indeed wanted to talk to the nephew. “I’ve been meaning to ask you some questions.”

“Really? I’ve got so many questions for you too!”

“Excellent,” Stanley said. “I’ll leave you to it.” He disappeared through the gift shop with Soos.

Dipper almost pulled Ford back into Stanley’s seat in the TV chair. It was too soft – remaining on the floor would have been better, but it was too late to change his mind when Dipper squeezed down next to him, making him gasp involuntarily as the boy scrambled painfully against his injuries. It hurt too much to leave him in any danger of sleeping, at least.

Dipper didn’t seem to notice, being busy taking out a small notebook and a ballpoint pen from his vest pocket. “For example,” he said, clicking his pen, “How did you find out about Gravity Falls in the first place? Is it the only place in the world that has these anomalies or is it just that there’s so many of them in one place here? And is there some kind of reason for that? Do you have a map over the whole valley somewhere? Or a list of all the creatures? Oh, and I’ve seen some weird stuff that I don’t think even existed in the 80s, like video games coming to life, so do you think there’s some anomalies that just stop existing too, or will could it be that the number of creatures can only increase?”

Ford blinked. He had not expected a deluge of what seemed like innocent enthusiasm. It was different from Mabel’s weird charm, but the intensity was... familiar. Stanley was right, he probably did have something in common with this child. That wasn’t necessarily positive. “Why do you want to know these things?”

“Because it’s there!” Dipper exclaimed. “There’s so much out there that people don’t know about! Isn’t that why you started researching weird stuff, too?”

“Yes.” Ford glanced at his hands in his lap. “That didn’t end well. You’ve met Bill – you have an indication of this.”

“I guess.” Dipper ran his fingers over a row of puncture marks on his arm. “But we don’t have to talk about Bill. It’s not all like that! It’s fascinating and exciting and sometimes even when it’s scary you’ll figure something out and it just works and you get a kick out of it!” He grinned and punctuated the words with a raised fist, and even though his elbow scratched Ford’s chest it was a very contagious enthusiasm. “Did you know that you can blow gnomes away with a leaf blower? You’d think they’d be too heavy, but they’re not!”

Ford raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that. That’s interesting. How did you find out?”

“Mabel did! It was right at the beginning of summer – these gnomes tried to kidnap her and make her their new queen, so she and I had to fight them, and that’s how we made them go away.”

“The gnomes are swarming this summer?” He supposed it must have been long enough. “And they still get over-excited and try to kidnap human girls for queens. That never works out for anyone, but try to tell that to a gnome. Do you know if they’ve sorted it out yet?”

“I don’t actually know... Is this a thing that happens often?” Dipper scribbled something in his notebook.

“Only when an old queen dies. They’re supposed to wait for the next one to hatch, but sometimes they get restless and bad judgements happen. I’d guess this is the first swarm since I witnessed one back in 1977.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “So gnomes are like – bees?”

“They’re somewhat like eusocial insects, yes! But there are lots of differences. For example, gnomes don’t—” Ford stopped himself abruptly and grimaced. He was surprised how easily he could still run off on a tangent when offered an interesting subject. “Never mind gnomes. I want to know what you’ve been using my journal for.”

“Um.” Dipper put his pen down. “Mostly for reference. I always checked with the journal whenever we found something weird, because a lot of the time you’d written about it already. And I mean, I only had one of them, but it was still really helpful a lot of times. And then I used the blank pages to make my own entries on some new stuff that happened. Important stuff!” He hesitated and looked up at Ford. “I hope you’re not mad at me for that.”

He certainly didn’t appreciate it. It wasn’t right that someone else would add to his journals – he hadn’t even let Fiddleford touch them – and they should never have been exposed to other people in the first place. But he hadn’t even read Dipper’s additions, and indeed, there was no doubt that a 12-year-old Stanford Pines would have done the same thing. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said instead.

“Oh.” Dipper’s eyes fell. “But there’s so much that has happened this summer! And your journal has been such a big part of it! I brought it with me everywhere – it was like this huge adventure right under my fingertips, just waiting to come out into the light.” He smiled wistfully. “I couldn’t just leave it alone, could I?”

“Probably not,” Stanford said with a small sigh. “I certainly couldn’t.”

Dipper beamed far more brightly than he should have at that. “So will you tell me more about Gravity Falls?”

Ford almost smiled back. “I suppose I could. But—” His caught Dipper’s eyes. “—I want to know some things from you, first. Most importantly, why did you have that memory gun?” That was concerning. The memory erasing gun was an extremely dangerous weapon, and there could be very few innocent reasons to possess one.

Dipper’s smile turned into an uncomfortable grimace. “That’s...” He hesitated. “You know about the Society of the Blind Eye?”

“I know of them.” He hadn’t heard the name, but there was no doubt that it referred to Fiddleford’s memory erasing cult-like activities. And it seemed it was still going on thirty years later. “Are you a member?”

Dipper flinched. “No!” He shook his head adamantly. “Absolutely not! It’s the complete opposite!” He clicked the pen a few more times like he was trying to focus. “Basically, me and a few others found out about this cult that were erasing people’s memories of the supernatural. And we didn’t like that. So in the end we managed to erase all the cult members’ memories of the cult – it’s all gone now. I guess I kept that gun as a kind of a trophy. Maybe that’s bad. But it did save us from the government agents!”

That was too easy. There were too many things he wasn’t saying. But— “You’re saying it doesn’t exist anymore?”

Dipper made a small shrug. “Not for the last week.”

“And in that time, have you used the memory gun on yourself at all? Or on anyone in your family?”

Dipper looked almost offended at the suggestion. “What? No. Definitely not.” He looked straight up at Ford. “I would never, ever do that.” It was the certainty of a child, but at least he didn’t seem to be tempted.

Stanford took a deep breath. “Tell me,” he said, forcing himself to ask, “was Fiddleford McGucket still with the cult when this happened?” The fact that the cult existed after thirty years was condemning enough, but the children had known Fiddleford’s name earlier, and that was a logical conclusion.

“No. He wasn’t.” Dipper’s reply was immediate, but he didn’t volunteer any more information.

Ford felt his shoulders relax slightly. The trauma Ford had caused his friend had left a legacy, but at the very least it hadn’t become Fiddleford’s life. He could have recovered and returned to his family.

Or he could be dead. Dipper’s strange discomfort suggested the latter. But it had been thirty years, and he didn’t want to know. Not yet. “I see,” was all he said. It had to be good enough for now.

Dipper took that as the end of the matter and quickly regained his enthusiasm. It was clear that he’d had a truly intensive last few months, and most of it was misadventures that he was more than happy to tell Ford about.

Apparently he was friends with an eight-headed multi-bear – Ford wondered if it was the same as the seven-headed one he had met, in which case it kept multiplying throughout its life, or if there was a hidden colony of them somewhere – and his sister had dated a young merman for a while. He’d once captured a gremloblin – an impressive feat, though trying to showcase it to tourists had not worked out so well – and met several different types of ghosts. The description of the derelict convenience store made Ford pause, knowing that he must have had met the old couple now haunting it, but not particularly remembering their faces. Hearing about the lumberjack haunting Northwest Manor was fascinating, though – he’d heard about the 150-year curse, but it hadn’t been activated yet at the time. There had been warring Lilli-putt-ians in the local minigolf course, and apparently the some kind of computer generated persons had come to life. Dipper had even experimented with the size-changing crystals and the advanced copying machine.

And Dipper didn’t just chatter on about it, but he asked questions, wanting to know Ford’s opinion, wanting explanations for phenomena that he didn’t understand, wanting elaborations on the bigger picture. He didn’t mention Bill, but he wanted to know about the research. The things that had gone into the journals before he had reached too high and everything had fallen apart. The sheer joy of discovery, and the kind of fear that was temporary and faded with hindsight.

Stanford got caught up in it. Dipper’s stories brought him back to a time when he could still laugh, and the world had still seemed amazing in itself. At some point he brought out the third journal from his coat and they went through some of the entries together.

Tensions that he hadn’t even realized existed in his body were starting to melt away, and maybe, somehow, he was going to be alright. He knew in the back of his head that he couldn’t think that, but he was so tired of being scared. He was so tired.

Dipper was flipping through the journal and mumbling to himself, looking for some particular entry, and over by the gift shop he could hear Stanley talking loudly on the phone to someone. He felt almost warm, almost comfortable. The skin on his chest and stomach ached, but it seemed so far away. His eyes were closing. They shouldn’t do that, but he could barely remember why.

#gravity falls #fanfic #30 seconds later #forduary #paranoid ford #stanford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #twin paradox #it writes

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minblush · 6 years

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do you realize you're always starting drama and are making people feel bad only on assumptions and things you only have seen? they are all flawed but how can call yourself a fan if you try to antagonize people who are very important to your own bias? I am not saying that we shouln't criticize them but speculating like this is bad for bts image and armys image

how can i call myself a fan… by being a fan? and what was i speculating about tbh, i just put out there what i saw with my own eyes.. it’s not like there are several instances of that sort of thing overall, that even trended in korea, that i feel like are more than enough to come to that conclusion..but you’re right that it’s not fair to talk about it just from my own experiences and without receipts.. the problem is that i am conflicted, you know? cause i am a fan and i don’t want to damage the group more than it is by spreading hamrful content, but at the same time i just… it’s difficult sometimes because i know that is wrong of me in the first place, cause my priorities should be different, but i try to keep the REALLY harmful things to myself, or things that i know would bother people.. but yesterday my temper got the better of me just seeing people… like the same people that scream “bts are woke kings” are the same ones that whenever there is even a hint of them fucking up, come up and say “they are young, ignorant, products of their culture” and it annoys me cause how can you promote both these narratives and not get a whiplash? but you’re right that i shouldn’t talk about it when i’m weak and can’t follow through with it.. i could easily just post the video and be like TEAR THEM APART but i suck.. and i am a fan.. that’s why i don’t want to go that far… go ahead and criticize me, i am a bad person in my own way, if you think i don’t feel like shit about yesterday i do, because what was the point anyway? just made some fans feel bad, good job me huh… i’m sorry

Anonymous said:I won’t come off anon bc you blocked me already & that’s as far as you can go so there wouldn’t be much meaning in it. I’d suggest you upload the vid on vimeo with a password so you can control who watches it. I really want to see for myself. If he really reacted that way then I’ll deal with my feelings about it, I just want to say that it is pretty shady of your part trying to portray Jimin as the only one good one -with good morals- & the rest is trash. They’re all, including Jimin, only human

i blocked you??? then how are you on my blog and seeing what i was talking about? i haven’t blocked anyone in months??? cause it’s not like what i said was being reblogged left and right, it was just happening on my blog really, so how did you come across it? either you’re stalking me, or you’re lying, both options make me not want to interact with you and go through that trouble.. esp that you’re saying this jimin thing even tho i explained in another ask right above the first one that i was being sarcastic and like how can you take from that i was saying he was the only good one, when i literally praised him for just at least keeping his ignorance to himself most of the time? that still makes him ignorant and i don’t expect anything better, so nuance is lost on you anyway

Anonymous said:I know that almost (or more) half of the fandom is young, so they might believe that everything BTS does is genuinely like they are on a day to day basis. But folks let’s keep this real, Korean idols have a character created - no matter how much the boys even want/try to be themselves - it’s practically a rule to have an image created for the fans. Don’t be disappointed, just remember that they can fuck up too. They’re humans like us, they make mistakes and hope that they can learn from it too

mte… nothing more to add

Anonymous said:It’s true that we need to think critically,but i’d like to disagree on how u view d discourse as purely sheep mentality..Esp in this case when there r clearly cultural n language barrier n problematic edits.From korean perspective,there’s d need to clarify, but some take it as blind support or saving faces.At this rate,we will get contents from them saying nothing in vids,even then people will still be offended smh.And u hv d audacity to say how u miss them being fun n silly on camera??????

sigh okay this is my fault for privating all the posts before it, but the thing is i wasn’t even mad about the run thing, because tbh it was more of a cultural difference than anything, like my language doesn’t even have an inoffensive word for native americans so aspects of it i understood way too well tho others were still ehhh, but yeah homogenous cultures are that and tbh like jimin made a bad joke using native americans himself a long time ago didn’t he? so it’s not like i’m shocked or anything...but i was mad about how the fans were behaving about it at that moment.. like seeing replies that someone that was discussing it on my dash got, people that were like Y’ALL GET OFFENDED ABOUT ANYTHING! YOU SJWS! YOU’RE BAD FANS FOR CRITICISING THEM! etc, which got me worked up and i complained about something else which happened, that i know was offensive from certain members but got buried, like the general notion of people treating them like they are so woke when there is not that much to back it up but quite a lot to tear that down.. and i don’t think there is any audacity in missing that? they can be fun and silly without being problematic ykwim? those aren’t mutually exclusive, false equivalence

Anonymous said:Hi there just wanna say im sorry if i have sent an offending ask to u earlier i was not in the right mind hv a good day

maybe it didn’t get through? cause i didn’t receive any ask that would be offensive to me, but thank you for the sentiment anyway

#ask #anon

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happy-meo · 7 years

Text

Masquerade III: The Rules of the Game – (The Real) Part 6 (Jungkook x Reader x another BTS member)

One must know the rules of the game, in order to come and play.

!! If you haven’t, please read the first two sagas in this series: MASQUERADE & Masquerade II !! [There will be spoilers if you read this story first.]

Summary: With Club Masquerade’s original hosts “graduating” one at a time, it’s up to the newcomers to pick up the slack and keep the customers happy. And who better to take the reins than the notorious Red Mask’s prodigy, Jeon Jungkook. But things become a bit difficult when you come into the picture, with your desire to do research on the rules of love and dating through your experience with your host. Will Jungkook be able to satisfy your curiosities… or will someone else?

Jungkook x Reader x BTS member [Read on to find out who >:P] (ft. Jimin & Hoseok) CEO au, Host au, Cop!Kook au Fluff & Smut

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 (Finale)

A/N: Thanks again for being so patient :) It’s been a crazy few weeks for me with BTS & with work >< but I’m glad I finally was able to finish the update woo ~ I placed another “Keep Reading” link so as usual if it isn’t opening, shoot me a message ~ Enjoy!

"Um...is it me or is Mr. Park staring at us creepily?" You hummed as you and Jungkook got settled inside your cubicle.

Jungkook glanced over to find Jimin grinning widely in front of the cubicle with his arms crossed, not saying a word.

"Um can we help you?" Jungkook blinked.

Jimin clutched his chest and fell to the side of the cubicle dramatically. "I can't believe my two favorite people didn't trust me enough to confide in me!!"

Your eyebrow rose at the sudden change of behavior and emotion. "What're you talking about Mr. Park?"

"No." Jimin exhaled and looked forlorn. "Don't mind me. I apparently am not worthy enough to be told of your love...after I went to such lengths to get you two together."

You and Jungkook eyed each other, puzzled to no end.

"And by great lengths...do you mean locking us in a closet?" You questioned dryly.

"Shouldn't you thank me?? Was that the turning point?" Jimin beamed brightly and scurried towards you and Jungkook eagerly. "When? How?!"

"Wh-what're you talking about, Mr. Park?" Jungkook was flustered by his proximity.

"I expected this from Y/N. But not you, my prodig-- new intern!" Jimin corrected before pouting towards Jungkook.

"Mr. Park, we would love to give you some clarity if you specify the situation." You explained.

"Y/N. Jungkook." Hoseok appeared on cue. "Come with me."

Jimin giggled and skipped behind Hoseok happily. You and Jungkook followed suit, sparing looks at each other in an attempt at communicating each other's shared confusion. When you entered the room, Hoseok turned his computer screen towards you all.

"I'm assuming neither of you know of this, considering you came to work together without caution." Hoseok stated, amused.

"What? Why would they have to be cautious??" Jimin gasped. "This isn't something to hide! But to CELEBRATE!"

Hoseok exhaled. "Well, we took care of it. Luckily, we keep tabs on all CEOs and potential CEOs to prevent the spreading of any dangerous or questionable videos, articles, or pictures."

"Oh? You meant what happened at my university?" You finally realized what it could be.

Jimin gasped and clung onto your arm. "So it's real? It really happened??"

"Um...well...yeah." You pried your arm out of Jimin's grasp and glanced at Jungkook who was smiling sheepishly. "I kept checking to see if anyone released it, but couldn't find anything so I thought we were safe but..."

"Yeah. Well Jimin confiscated the video real quick, and creepily obsessed over it." Hoseok hit play.

You rolled Jimin's chair over so you could watch leisurely, while Jungkook flailed his arms frantically.

"Oh my gosh! No! Don't watch!" He turned red.

"I just wanna see how it looks like from the outside." You hummed as you stared at the scene unfold before your eyes from a different perspective.

"Noo! Stop!" Jungkook covered your eyes, flustered. "It's embarrassing!"

"Oh stop." You pulled his hands away and held onto it so he wouldn't go back to shielding your sight. "You don't have to watch if you don't want to. It was just a cool moment."

Jungkook blushed. "It was cool?"

Suddenly, a squealed was heard beside you two. Jimin was clapping excitedly, engrossed in watching you two in real life.

"Look, Hoseok! They're holding hands in front of us! How boldddd!" he cooed.

"Oh pull yourself together, Park Jimin." Hoseok shook his head then turned to you. "I thought something was actually happening with you and Namjoon...so I didn't want to believe this was real."

"Namjoon who?" Jimin interjected playfully.

"Jimin! He might be the next Chairman!"

Jimin snorted. "There are only two people I'm rooting for, for the Chairperson position."

You glanced at Jimin curiously, but Hoseok nudged him strongly.

"Anyway, just be careful you two. Jungkook, you know how the wealthy are if your parents get wind of this." Hoseok commented.

"Yeah, thanks." Jungkook scratched his head.

"Not to mention your other jobs might suffer too."

"I'm all for dating openly." Jimin raised his hand. "Why don't we do a triple date one of these days?"

You smiled. "I'm down."

"What?" Jungkook's eyes widened.

"Why not?" You tilted your head.

"Well I-I-we're..." he stammered.

You smirked, knowing full well how to get Jungkook out of his shyness. "Afraid I'll show you up?"

As you expected, his face darkened and his eyes lit up with fiery determination. "Pfft. What a joke. What's there to show?"

You glared at him.

"A lover's quarrel!" Jimin clapped his hands and sighed endearingly.

"Alright, you need to stop." Hoseok scolded.

"Is this how it feels to see your children marry?" Jimin wiped a nonexistent tear, dramatically.

Hoseok groaned and shook his head. "Please, Jimin. Show some decorum as their boss."

Jimin laughed and slapped Hoseok's butt, "That's never been my style, my dear best friend. I'm all about getting what I want, how I want it." He smirked darkly.

"You think we should tell them we're not really...like that?" Jungkook mumbled once you both returned to the safety of your joined cubicle.

"Well it's not exactly true or false..." you hummed. "I don't see the harm of just going along with their assumption."

"You're okay with it?"

You nodded. "Who knows? Maybe they'll pay for us when we go out."

Jungkook snorted. "You forget that I'm also pretty rich."

"Very true. But maybe just going along with them will let it die down faster."

But going along with the rumor did just the opposite.

Every chance he got, Jimin would clap obnoxiously and show you two where the best spots to sneak away were around the office. It made you wonder why and how exactly your boss knew these spots, but when you brought it up, he stated that it was a secret.

Jimin would also cover your cubicle with flowers, even going so far as having one of those drawstring balls that erupted out confetti when pulled. And obviously, his odd behavior grabbed the attention of the entire office, so everyone had their eyes curiously on you two. It was awkward and stifling, so you finally went to your boss to confront them about it.

"What will it take to get you to stop harassing me during work?" You slammed your hand on Mr. Park's desk threateningly.

"Harassment?" he feigned innocence. "I know nothing of the sort, my dear Y/N!"

You whipped out your phone, and it was soon pulled out of your grasp.

"But I might be swayed to behave if you two agree on going on a triple date one of these days with me and Hoseok."

You exhaled. "If that's all it takes, then deal."

Jimin grinned as he outstretched his hand. "I'll discuss details with the guys then."

"I'd prefer that." You nodded as you pulled your phone from his grip, glad that Mr. Park wasn't the sole person planning this date. Who knew where he would take everyone if the choice was left to him?

You sluggishly returned to your cubicle where Jungkook was humming lightly while doing paperwork. When you entered, he perked up.

"How'd it go?"

You gave him a thumbs up. "Just give him your suggestions and it should be good."

Jungkook nodded. "Perfect. I've been wanting to go to this place with everyone."

"Oh? Where?"

"You'll see ~"

You chuckled and then glanced at your phone.

Jungkook noticed the way your grin widened as you stared at it, and he immediately knew. "Namjoon?"

You blinked and looked over. "He's just sending me the details of our weekend."

Jungkook snorted. "Don't get your hopes up. He might want to just train you in the mountains to find your inner peace or something."

You glared at him. "He will not."

"From what you told me about him, he seems like the type to go out for nature healing."

"What's so bad about that?"

"Says the one who stays home all the time?" Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

"For your information, I don't stay home all the time."

Jungkook stared at you blankly, not buying that argument. You exhaled.

"Fine. I do stay home a lot but that's because I don't know where to go in the city!"

Jungkook chuckled. "And that's why you make friends and ask them to take you to places."

"Says the one who has a hard time making friends."

"I don't have a hard time making friends!" he bickered.

"Okay, let me specify then. You have a hard time making girl friends." You stuck your tongue out.

Jungkook huffed, knowing full well he couldn't deny that fact, and returned to his work bitterly.

And soon enough, the weekend arrived.

You found yourself in the backseat of lengthy limousine, being driven by Namjoon's hired chauffer. The inside of the car was huge, but ironically you and Namjoon had squished yourself as close to each other as possible. Your bodies were entangled, and your hands were wandering wildly in the backseat-- neither of you had any intention to refrain yourselves.

Your breathing labored as Namjoon pushed you onto your back and kissed you roughly, whispering afterwards that he missed you in his deep, gravelly voice.

"I missed you too." You replied.

"I'm excited to have you all to myself this weekend." he smiled as he shifted a strand of hair away from your face.

You blushed. "Yeah, someone helped me pick out a bathing suit when you told me we were going to the beach...since I didn't have any."

Namjoon's eyes darkened and glistened at the mention. He leaned forward, ghosting over your lips with his plump ones. "Oh, you might not even need it baby girl."

Your heart stuttered at the implication and soon, your lips were connected needily once again.

When you two did decide to take a break from making out during the long car ride, you found yourself laughing hysterically while Namjoon was dramatically belting out to his favorite tunes. He flailed his arms wildly as he tried his best to reach all the notes. It was endearing to see him like this again, and it reminded you the times when you two had just met. The adorable moments when he abandoned his mature persona and became childish and cute, made your heart flutter just as much as his intellect and his ambition. When he was like that, it was hard to believe he was an avid world traveler and the CEO of many business franchises. In those moments, he was just simply Namjoon. He didn't pull down his walls often, but it warmed your heart that he was able to do so around you.

"Come on, Y/N! Sing too!" he urged as he excitedly stomped his feet playfully to the music.

You giggled and waved your hand. "It's just entertaining to watch."

He grinned and continued fooling around all the way to the hotel.

"Wow..." You gawked. "I knew it'd be nice...but this is fantastic."

Namjoon laughed as he received a card key from one of the workers. "I reserved a suite for us. Let's go?"

You smiled and nodded, eyes still taking in the breath-taking grandeur of the hotel. Your bags had been taken up to your room prior to checking in so you were holding onto Namjoon's arm in awe.

There was a grand staircase welcoming guests upon entrance, and workers were lined up on both sides, throwing flowers as you two made your way further inside.

"Welcome!" They greeted with wide smiles. "Please enjoy your stay!"

You bowed slightly, unsure of how to respond. Namjoon grinned at your hesitant reaction as he led you up the stairs.

"Stand right there." he stopped you in the middle of the staircase, running a few steps up. He stumbled forward a little which had you gasping with worry, but he got back up and continued his pace. You cocked up one of your eyebrows curiously, wondering what he was up to. Then he whipped out his phone with a wide grin.

"I need to take a picture of you here!" he called out. "Smile!"

You blushed and smiled. But you felt stiff, considering you weren't sure exactly how to pose.

"Now take one of me!" Namjoon scampered down the steps, and you nervously watched his feet, just catching the edge of each step, waiting for the moment he might miss his footing and tumble down.

Luckily though, he managed to reach you without any clumsy moments. You exhaled in relief as he handed you his phone.

"I like my outfit today so get a good aesthetic body picture." he instructed.

"Sure." You consented as you climbed up a few steps to get a good angle.

Namjoon posed knowledgeable, highlighting his height and the tall length of his legs. You smiled, admiring his physique through the lens.

"Good?" he hummed.

You nodded. "Come check them."

He perused your pictures, giving hums of approval at each one. "Perfect!"

You grinned at the compliment.

"Let's finally go see our room now." he grabbed your hand and led you to the elevators. "We're on the top floor."

Your eyes widened. "Top floor??"

"Yeah." he chuckled "It has the best view."

"It's also the most expensive!" You gasped.

Namjoon chuckled. "Don't worry about that. Experience and memories matter more than money."

You relaxed as his thumb caressed the back of your hand warmly.

The suite was bigger than your entire apartment. You hurriedly scanned the clearly expensive decor, and the pristine leather couch upon first glance. And the bathroom and bedroom were just as, if not even more, refined. The bedroom housed a king sized bed with rose petals scattered around the floor; your own mini chandelier providing dim lighting to the room. The bathroom had a large jacuzzi tub beside the clear glass shower.

Everything screamed that this was a honeymoon suite. Your face warmed at the thought of you and Namjoon being perceived as a newlywed couple. But it dawned on you that the extravagant welcome at the entrance was probably part of this honeymoon package.

You felt large arms wrap around your body as you stared at the full length mirror in the bathroom. You glanced at Namjoon's reflection grinning at you.

"You like it?" he asked.

You smiled and nodded. "This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this."

"Good. I wanted to show you something you've never seen before." his hands traveled down to rest at your hips. "And have you experience things you've never experienced before."

You licked your lips as his hands traveled underneath your shirt. You watched as they disappeared under your clothing in the mirror; it was odd to see the way your cheeks flushed and the way your lips looked swollen already.

"Wanna see more of how you look when I please you?" he whispered into your ear.

You gulped and nodded, entranced by your own reflection.

"Let's get you into that bathing suit, hm?" he stated with smooth slide of his palm against your lower abdomen. The teasing motion immediately caused heat to pool in your core. Then he wordlessly disappeared from behind you, leaving you a little breathless.

When you came back to your senses, you hurriedly to grab your bathing suit and some clothes to wear over it while Namjoon lay in bed patiently, watching you scamper around with attentive eyes. With a blush, you shut the bathroom door to change. You had never really worn a two-piece bathing suit before, considering you were always on the more conservative and logical side. But you wanted to be seen as more mature by Namjoon, and so you bought a pretty risqué black bathing suit.

It was a spaghetti strap top, needing to be tie around your neck and on your back. The bottom of your bathing suit was merely a triangle at the front and back, tied by strings at your hip bones to hold it up to cover your decency. You pulled your hair up, revealing your neck, and checked yourself out. It was a very seductive bathing suit; hopefully Namjoon would think so too. Hurriedly, you threw on short shorts and a see-through shirt to cover yourself, so the reveal would be a surprise, and the strip show, an added component to the rising tension of the night.

As you would have it, Namjoon was waiting with his arms crossed on the bed, already in his swimming trunks and a loose tank, exposing his fairly muscular arms. You bit your lip and stepped out, feeling odd walking around with quite minimal clothing.

"Let's go?" You murmured shyly.

"Who said we were going out, hm?" he questioned and your eyes widened. "Not before I take a good look at your bathing suit."

You blushed and clutched your shirt nervously. Namjoon spotted your hesitation and timidity so he slid off the bed to approach you. He tilted your chin up and placed a sweet kiss on your lips, but you could see his eyes were intense and blown out with lust. It thrilled you.

"Take it off for me, baby." he ordered and your heart somersaulted at the sense of authority in his voice.

You stepped back and pulled your shirt over your head, then unbuttoned your jean shorts, letting it fall to the ground. But Namjoon didn't rush to you, didn't say anything, so you stood awkwardly in the center of the room in just your bathing suit in agony at the silence.

"H-h-how does it look?" You stammered, wondering if he really thought it didn't suit you and that was why he wasn't saying anything. "I wasn't a fan of this at first but the person I was with urged me to buy--"

"Turn around and walk to that mirror." Namjoon instructed.

Your eyes widened, but you heeded him without hesitation, your heart ramming in your chest with anticipation. He came up behind you and slapped your ass, surprising you by the sudden sting, but it felt good. He squeezed your butt cheeks roughly and began placing open mouthed kisses behind your ear as he did so.

"You look so sexy." he whispered, and you felt yourself melt. "These strings are so damn tempting."

You felt his fingers curl around the strings at your hip and you felt yourself get wet as your eyes wandered to the mirror to watch. He nipped at your neck lightly, then in the next second, he pulled the neat bow holding up your bathing suit swiftly with his teeth, causing your top to fall forward. You gasped as his hand covered one of your breasts hurriedly to replace the lack of clothing. You threw your head back and moaned at the sensation.

"Namjoon." You cried.

He hummed as he used his teeth once again to completely untie your top from your body.

"Watch yourself babygirl. Look how pretty you are under my touch." he smiled, and your eyes returned to your reflection.

Your eyes were glazed and your cheeks were red, but what caught your eye was Namjoon's large hands cupping your breasts and squeezing them. You became transfixed at the vision. His fingertips rolled over your nipple, causing your knees to buckle. He could easily get you off just by this motion alone as long as you could watch his hands doing the work. But suddenly, he was in front of you, peppering your neck and collarbones with his lips, marking every inch of your body as he traveled lower. He swirled his tongue around each of your sensitive buds, then he got on his knees in front of your already throbbing core.

With his eyes glancing up at you and you watching his reflection intently, his teeth grazed the strings of your hips and he soon ripped those loose as well. Now you were bare in front of him, your new bathing suit discarded on the bathroom floor. It did its job of seduction alright.

You watched with bated breath as his reflection was covering your core. You felt his hot breath at your entrance, but willed yourself not to look down to see whether he was going to please you or tease you. The anticipation and the excitement of not knowing turned you on all the more. Then suddenly, you felt his tongue slide into your folds and you saw his head dip forward into you in the mirror.

Immediately, your hand flew to your breasts as he licked you. You watched you massage yourself, getting more and more wrecked with each passing second by Namjoon's sinful and skilled tongue. Your hair was disheveled. Your entire body glistened with sweat and warmth, and Namjoon's arms and back muscles tensed as he grabbed your thighs to keep you still.

His tongue tickled your clit in short, quick strokes, then he flattened it to please more surface area of your folds. You rubbed your nipples for added sensation and dared to look down at him ravaging your center. You moaned at the sight, causing Namjoon to look up at you, finally noticing that you were stimulating yourself too.

"Wait for a sec, baby." he smirked. "Don't you dare touch yourself until I get back."

You breathed desperately, not wanting him to stop. But he kissed you gently to quell your confusion then stepped out of the bathroom.

"On all fours, now. And wait for me to come back."

You obeyed and stared at yourself in the mirror, admiring the way your breasts hung and your legs spread naturally, ready for him.

When Namjoon returned, he had a small bucket of ice with him.

"What--?"

"No questions. Just feeling." he grinned. "You're such a good girl for me, already spreading your legs."

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the lewd compliment.

You watched curiously as Namjoon popped at ice cube into his mouth, unsure of what he was going to do. Then he lay on his back, positioning his face right in front of your dripping folds. Without warning, he grabbed your hips and tugged you down into his face. You moaned at the cold sensation on your clit. Skillfully, he guided the ice cube up and down your folds with his tongue. You began panting-- the different temperatures increasing the need tightening in your lower region. Your hips began following the steady motion of Namjoon's cold tongue as the ice began slowly melting. When it completely turned to liquid, Namjoon pursed his lips against your clit and slurped.

"Oh my god." You groaned at the feeling. "Namjoon, please."

"Please what?" his voice was rough and low.

"Please do that again." You begged.

"With pleasure." he tapped your ass and you lifted it up so he could grab another ice cube. But this time, he pushed one finger inside your entrance and used his other hand to rub the ice cube around your clit. All the while he kissed your hip and your lower abdomen as you bucked into his finger needily.

The mirror in front of you began fogging up at the warmth of your breathing fanning across it, but the image still seduced you further. The reflection of Namjoon underneath you, pleasing you-- it was visible and it was hott.

But you didn't want to be the only one being pleased. You just weren't sure how to go about it. Your eyes wandered to the bucket of ice and an idea popped into your mind.

"Namjoon, stop." You hummed and he stilled.

"You okay?" he asked as he pulled his fingers out of you.

"Yeah, I just--" You climbed off, pulled his trunks down, and placed an ice cube in your mouth.

Namjoon's eyes widened at the realization. "Y/N--"

But you were already gliding the ice against his hardened cock, and the beautiful sounds that came out of him were music to your ears.

"Ah fuck, baby girl." he groaned as you circled your mouth with the ice cube around his tip.

You pocketed the cube into your cheek and covered his length with your mouth. He raised his hips to go deeper into you and your maneuvered the ice cube back onto your tongue to stimulate him. He began panting, and once the ice melted, you began bobbing your head up and down eagerly, feeling him pulsating inside you.

"On your knees again. No more games." he exhaled breathily.

You didn't spare time to argue. You slurped his length and released him with a pop at his tip, then resumed your position on all fours in front of the mirror. You watched him pull out a condom from his trunks, and after he put it on, you saw him get on his knees to line himself up to your entrance behind you. Agonizingly slow, he pushed into your hole, the novel feeling giving both of you immense pleasure. It felt incredibly amazing.

Once you adjusted to his size, he began to rock in and out of you gently. The motion had your breasts swinging back and forth, and you noticed the way his eyes were watching them as he drilled into you. He then grabbed two ice cubes and began rubbing them against your sensitive buds.

You groaned loudly as he quickened his pace.

"Fuck this feels so good Y/N." he hissed.

"Don't stop Namjoon. Don't stop." You moaned as you sat back into his dick, helping him get deeper into you. "I'm so close."

"Cum for me, babygirl. Cum on my dick." he whispered as he discarded the ice to the side and gripped at your hips to pull out and back into you roughly.

"OH MY GOD!" You cried at the pleasure of his entire length spearing into you from behind.

In no time, he was riding you through your orgasm.

"On your back." he instructed, also close to his release.

You flipped around and he hooked his arm around one of your legs to hold it up. Then he pushed into you. The overstimulation tingled, but you wanted him to finish, so you let him buck into you wildly until his hips stuttered and slowed down.

Then, you both were heaving heavily on the bathroom floor.

Namjoon grabbed a handful of ice and place it against your cheek. "These are multi-purpose."

You chuckled. "I don't know if I'll look at ice the same ever again."

"Anything can be used as a sex toy." he smirked. "With the right kink and knowledge."

You glanced over at him, amused, as you both tried to catch your breath.

"How was it?" he asked you.

"Amazing." You hummed as you closed your eyes.

"We'll definitely go to the beach tomorrow." he exhaled. "But for today..."

He stood up and turned on the jacuzzi. "Let's just relax. How about it?"

"A very good proposition." You smiled sleepily as he cradled you in his arms until the water was ready.

The next day, you two woke up bright and early, excited for the warm weather and sunshine, and for the day of no work ahead. After having breakfast at your balcony, staring out at the spectacular view of the vast ocean and clear skies, you two made your way to the white, sandy beach.

"Did I tell you that I'm in love with this bathing suit?" Namjoon grinned as he back hugged you while you two made your way down the boardwalk.

"I might've made an educated guess that you did." You chuckled. "Though, ripping it off with your teeth was a bit misleading. Not quite sure if you liked it on me or off me."

Namjoon kissed your temple as you two waddled through the sand, since he was still embracing you from behind.

"Well it on you makes me want to take it off you...if that makes sense."

"Not really." You grinned as you slipped out from his grasp playfully. "But maybe I'll see it in action again later."

Namjoon smirked as he ran after you.

Since there was no one on the beach yet, you picked any spot that looked decent and lay down your towels and umbrella. You wiggled a bottle of sunscreen in front of Namjoon flirtatiously.

"Want to help me?"

"Gladly." he pulled your waist forward and kissed you, his fingers untying the back knot of your top.

"Namjoon." You blushed and glanced around.

"On your stomach then." he grinned cheekily and grabbed the bottle from you.

You shook your head in disbelief but did so eagerly. Soon his hands were fanning across the expanse of your back, around your waist, and down your leg. You tried to bite down your growing need, but he flipped you around easily so that he was on top of you. You stared up at him expectantly, but he simply applied sunscreen against your stomach and on the front part of your legs.

He grinned. noticing your obvious look of disappointment and leaned forward.

"We should really make sure every single part of your body is protected." he whispered and slathered lotion on your face, causing you to wince at the not-so-gentle application.

"Namjoon!" You complained and he giggled playfully.

But soon the air changed when his finger traced down your chest. You glanced around at the vacant beach nervously.

"What if someone sees?"

"Why would someone see?" he chuckled.

"Well it's a public beach..."

"But I rented this section of the beach out..." he captured your lips. "just..." he sucked at your neck. "for..." the other side of your neck. "us..."

As soon as he finished his statement, his hands slipped underneath your bathing and he began applying lotion on your breasts. You gasped and wriggled your body at the sensation. It was so open and so shameful, but it was all so exhilarating.

"You rented this section?" You replied, trying to keep your composure. Namjoon always worked you up so easily, and you were sure your feelings were a big factor in that.

"Mhm. Cause I wanted you all to myself." he locked lips with you, slowly at first then tongue and teeth were exchanged, all while his hands cupped and massaged your boobs. You would've gotten lost in his mouth and his hands again, if he didn't break the kiss.

"Let's get into the water to cool down." he grinned as you fluttered your eyes open.

"Yeah." you agreed with a blush.

He fumbled to tie your bathing suit top, much to your amusement.

"You're so good at taking things off, but not so good at putting them on, huh?" You teased.

Namjoon chuckled as he let you tie it yourself. He then extended his hand out, which you happily took.

It was surreal. Years ago, you had dreamt of going on dates and walking so openly like this with Namjoon so the reality seemed hazed and too good to be true. Now here you two were, on a private section of the beach he had bought off, and it felt so unbelievable. The isolation made it truly feel like it was just the two of you in your own little corner of the world.

You winced at the coldness of the ocean water, but Namjoon squeezed your hand reassuringly.

"Like anything in life, it's best to go all in." he grinned.

You smiled nervously and nodded. Namjoon held his nose and you took a deep breath. Holding hands, you two dipped underwater to get used to the temperature in one go. After adapting, Namjoon flailed around happily while he trudged in the waters; you watched him endearingly.

"Come here." he beckoned you over and held your waist. "Let's ride some waves."

"Wh-what do we do?"

"We chase after the peak of the wave right before it crashes, and jump. Whoever misses the timing, will probably get carried underwater and back to shore."

"Well that doesn't sound very fun." You worried.

"I got you." he grinned as he pulled you closer to him.

You smiled and nervously wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Here's one now!" he pointed. "Ready on 3--"

"Jump!" You gasped as the wave came crashing down on both of you.

You rolled around as the current took you where it pleased and you found yourself back on shore, catching your breath. You glanced around and found Namjoon nearby, also washed up on the sand.

You laughed and walked over to him.

"Sometimes life gets you down." he shrugged.

You grinned warmly and reached out to help him up. He grabbed your arm and pulled you down so that you lay on top of his bare chest. Exhaling, he placed his hands behind his head and stared at you. You blushed and averted your eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" he questioned.

You glanced at him shyly and nodded. "Of course."

"I saw the video of you and Jungkook by chance."

Your eyes widened.

"What's going on between you two?"

You worried that Namjoon would get the wrong idea so you blurted out the truth. "We're helping each other learn by pretending to date...since we're both inexperienced at dating."

"Why are you trying to learn so hard?" he wiped a droplet from your cheek.

"I want to be a match for a more experienced person faster." You admitted.

Namjoon cupped your cheek and kissed you. "But having the experience for the experience is part of the journey, Y/N."

You stared at him curiously.

"No one's sexual preferences and sexual chemistry match right away. It takes time to learn about each other and with each other. In essence, everybody is inexperienced with someone new." he stated.

"But you don't seem to be." You frowned.

He chuckled. "That's not true. I'm always nervous when it comes to you."

"Nervous?" You blinked. "I make you nervous?"

"Of course." he laughed. "You take things I do, and pick up on it right away. It surprises me and it makes me wonder who's learning from whom."

You smiled.

He kissed you. "Plus you're gorgeous, and we're just so similar that I connect with you faster. Maybe it's cause we've known each other?"

"You think we connect?" You beamed.

"You don't?"

"I'm not really sure how it feels to connect or not connect..." You hummed.

Namjoon fiddled with the strings of your bathing suit again and bit his lip seductively. "Shall I teach you?"

You grinned and bent down to kiss him fervently, not minding the small waves lightly hitting you two.

Soon enough, clothes were strewn on to the untainted white sand, and you and Namjoon found solace behind a large boulder. Once again, your bodies were tangled around each other, but this time, you two were giggling and laughing as the sand tickled and stuck to your bodies.

"Let's try something. An experiment." he hummed.

You tilted your head. "What is it?"

He grabbed a pinch of sand and rubbed it around your nipple. You groaned at the rough sensation.

"Feel good?" he asked.

"Surprisingly...yes." You exhaled with a blush.

"What does it feel like?"

"Instead of one thing stimulating it, each grain feels like 10 things stimulating it. Plus the extra friction feels fantastic." You analyzed breathlessly.

"You see? Even I'm learning something new." he grinned.

"I'm glad." You shied.

"Relax." Namjoon caressed your cheek. "You always get hesitant with me. What is it?"

You looked down. "You're just so much more experienced. I don't know if I'm doing it right or if I'm getting all the fun instead of you...and--"

Namjoon bit your bottom lip to stop you from speaking. "I never accept things half way, Y/N. You know that."

You stared at Namjoon curiously, your heart flipping in your chest.

"Teaching you is fun, Y/N." his eyes darkened. "I've never had someone so willing to learn before, and it's such a turn on. So don't ever think it's a burden."

You smiled gently as you two shared another kiss. It was a bit relieving to know that he didn't think your inexperience was a downfall, but a strength in seducing him.

You two stayed on the beach (with clothes on eventually) until night fell. Namjoon wrapped a blanket around the two of you as he started a little fire in the fire pit.

"I come here a lot to take a good look at the stars." he confessed. "I felt like you would appreciate the view too."

You glanced up at the night sky, twinkling with constellations so clearly like an open page of a freshly pressed book.

"Wow..." You gawked. "You never get to see this in the city."

"No." Namjoon chuckled. "No you don't. This is why I love travelling. You get to see so many things, meet so many people, and you get cool spots like this to share with others."

You smiled. "That's why I moved to Seoul."

Namjoon glanced at you. "Why?"

"To see what you see when you're travelling. To see things from a different perspective than the one I've always known."

"And? How do you like it?" Namjoon nudged.

You smiled to yourself. "I can't imagine my life any other way now. I've met so many people I probably would've never encountered back at home."

Namjoon grinned. "But I guess I'm thankful you didn't realize it sooner."

"Hm?" You locked eyes with him and he intertwined your fingers.

"Because then we wouldn't have met and re-met. Everything fell to place to lead us to this moment, and I'm grateful for it."

You blushed, then gasped as you spotted that the marshmallow Namjoon was melting had caught on fire.

"Joon!" You grabbed the stick and put out the flame.

Namjoon cracked up. "Woops."

"This is so like you." you smiled at him amused.

"You think so?" he questioned. "I don't think many people can say that."

"Why not?"

"I don't stay long enough for them to truly understand me."

You blinked, taking his statement in. "Do you think I understand you?"

Namjoon smiled. "I think it's more important you understand yourself before trying to understand me."

You furrowed your brow. "I don't get it..."

He laughed. "Me neither. I just spouted something random that sounded interesting."

You smiled as he attempted to make another s'more, but you mulled over his words that he had brushed aside as nothing, knowing full well it meant something.

"Please stop. You and Mr. Park are both freaking me out now." Jungkook groaned as you waltzed into work, glowing from your crush-filled weekend.

You tried to control your usually blank expression, but you couldn't help grinning. Any thought of the weekend filled you immensely with butterflies, and you were constantly thinking about it, meaning the butterflies never dissipated.

Jungkook sighed and placed a pastry and coffee on your desk. "Thought you might be tired, but I guess not."

"What's this?" You blinked.

"Oh. A bakery opened up near my place and it's actually really good."

"Oh! I've been to that bakery!" Hoseok grinned. "I go there every morning now!"

You bit into the pastry and your eyes widened. "Wow! It's fantastic! Oh my goodness!"

"Right?" Hoseok clapped. "Ah my mouth is watering looking at it right now."

You glared and turned away from Hoseok, afraid he would snatch your breakfast up.

"Like I'd steal from a little girl." Hoseok rolled his eyes. "Eat it before Mr. Park comes."

"Or else what?" Jimin appeared and bit a piece of the pastry off, much to everyone's surprise.

"Were you...under my desk???" You bellowed.

"Mmm...maybe?" Jimin grinned innocently.

You glanced at Jungkook and he shook his head; he hadn't noticed him either.

"Let me guess." You sighed. "You were going to plan another surprise confetti parade, but Jungkook and I came sooner than you thought so you couldn't."

"Bingo!" Jimin grinned as he snatched the rest of your pastry. "This shit is good. Let's get some more tomorrow morning-- for everyone!"

"MR. PARK!" You yelled as you realized he had eaten everything.

"You shouldn't be screaming my name, Y/N. Jungkook might get jealous." he patted your cheek smugly.

You curled your fingers, fighting the urge to strangle him.

"Here." Jungkook shoved another into your mouth, shutting you up. "I was going to save it for later, but you can have it."

"Or you could share!" Jimin cackled and forced Jungkook's face into the pastry hanging in your mouth too.

"JIMIN." Hoseok scolded.

Jimin immediately scurried away, singing some love song cheekily. Jungkook blushed as he took a bite anyway and stepped back. You blinked, always being taken aback by his shyness.

"Finish it, if you want." he hummed and hurried away from the cubicle, leaving you and Hoseok puzzled.

You shrugged and continued eating happily.

Namjoon: Hope you're not too tired at work! I got to sleep in today haha

You giggled as you read his message.

"Jungkook! She's cheatinggg!" Jimin pried your phone away from you and lunged at your partner across the cubicle.

"Chi--Mr. Park!" Jungkook groaned. "I'm trying to do some work for once."

"But she's texting Namjoon." he pouted. "That's cheating."

Jungkook exhaled and turned around. You glanced at him worriedly. You had been in your own little world all morning that you hadn't taken a good look at Jungkook all day. He appeared absolutely exhausted.

"Mr. Park. We're only dating; we're not exclusive." Jungkook finally put his foot down. "So she can text whoever the hell she wants."

You frowned at his tone of voice. For some reason it upset and irked you; the entire statement and the sheer nonchalance behind it. But why would you want Jungkook to care about you messaging Namjoon? He had known your feelings from the beginning, so it was natural of him to react without care.

Jimin returned your phone sadly. "Jungkook yelled at me."

Suddenly, someone snorted and retorted, "It's about damn time he did. He's been taking too much of your shit."

Jimin and Jungkook perked up immediately.

"Noona!"

"Babe!" Jimin grinned.

"Hi love." the Receptionist appeared, still as gorgeous as ever. "You forgot your lunch so I decided to drop it off and check on my lovely, hard working interns, who have to be tortured by you every day."

Jimin huffed. "You don't have to put it like that."

She smiled and ruffled Jungkook's hair. "Take it easy, buddy. If you need a break from later, let me know. You worked lots of shifts this weekend at the station."

Jungkook yawned and nodded. "Will do, Noona."

Then she turned to you and grinned. "Oh and I have something for you, Y/N."

"Me?"

"Special delivery." she winked and pulled out a tiny mason jar from inside her purse. You marveled at it, and immediately knew that it was a present from Namjoon. It contained the white sand from the beach you two were in and a few seashells you had watched him collect during your stroll together.

The little card attached read, "To remember our first trip together :) -Joon"

Jimin grabbed his girlfriend's wrist dangerously, his aura noticeably changing. "We need to talk."

The Receptionist smirked knowingly. "I'm afraid it's classified even from you, babe."

"Oh come on!" Jimin whined. "I think I know but I can't know until you confirm it!"

"No way ~" she sang playfully.

"Babe, come on! I'll go down on you for a week!"

"Oh please. You'll go down on me if I tell you to anyway." she stuck her tongue out.

Yours and Jungkook's eyes widened in shock at their openly candid conversation.

"Oi lovebirds." Hoseok rolled his eyes. "Please stop talking about your sex life in my building."

"It's my building too." Jimin retorted.

"It was his longer though." the Receptionist jeered.

Jimin huffed.

"I'll see you at home." she kissed Jimin on the cheek, which instantly quelled his annoyance.

"See ya." he smiled softly.

Jungkook coughed, "Whipped."

Jimin glared at him while you and Hoseok cracked up.

You panicked as your car began sputtering wildly in the middle of a dark, unknown road, and all of a sudden, it broke down.

It was the end of the week, and you had decided to go out and eat with some of your classmates to wind down. You had no idea how to get there, not having explored the city enough since you were busy with work and school all the other times before. You were on your way back in the cover of the night, already nervous and anxious, and as if to make matters worse, it began to torrentially downpour. You clutched the wheel as you shook with fear.

As stoic as your face usually was and as mature and collected as you appeared to be, thunder and lightning were two things that could break down your iron defense. Even as a young girl, you had been terribly frightened of storms because of the impending possibility of thunder and lightning.

Now, you were living your worst fear. You weren't in the safety of your home, curled up in your bed, drowning out the sounds with loud music, and willing yourself to sleep. You were in the middle of the storm; your car broken down along with your sanity. You shook fervently, taking great pains to steady your hands to grab your phone. Hurriedly, you called a few people, praying the calls would go through to someone. You frantically called Namjoon multiple times, but the storm was so bad that the reception was hazy for all the numbers you tried.

You gripped the steering wheel and wept, immobile and frightened.

"This is what happens when I try to go out." you whined.

Suddenly, light tapping was heard on your window and you gasped as a shadow stood beside you. You covered your ears, wondering if this was how it was all going to end for you.

"Y/N." Another series of knocks was heard. "You okay? It's me."

Your heart fluttered at the familiar voice, and you immediately lunged out of your car and into his arms.

"Y/N?" Jungkook called again worriedly as you buried your head into his chest.

His confusion dissipated and his body relaxed when he realized that you were shaking and sobbing against him.

"What happened?" he frowned as he pulled his umbrella fully over you and rubbed your back comfortingly.

"How'd you know I was here?" You sniffled, your voice muffled into his chest.

"Well, I was on patrol and I recognized your car and license plate. I know you don't live anywhere near here and you weren't moving so I thought I'd come check on you."

You tightened your embrace around him as you heard the thunder erupt angrily through the Earth.

"My car broke down..." You admitted softly. "And I'm afraid of thunder and lightning."

"What? I didn't catch the last part?" Jungkook asked.

"I'M AFRAID OF THUNDER AND LIGHTNING!" You pulled your head out of his chest to scream.

His eyes widened as he witnessed your tear-stricken face for the first time. He frowned and wiped your tears away.

"You can go laugh at me." You averted your eyes.

He exhaled. "Why would I laugh at you? As far as fears go, yours is more logical than mine."

You smiled warmly, knowing he was making fun of his own fear of girls just to calm you down. Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up the sky and you once again took refuge in his chest. He chuckled and patted your head.

"You know, you're really cute like this."

You gently punched his arm. "Shut up."

"What do you want to do? Want me to take you home?" he softened.

You shook your head. "I don't want to be alone."

"I'll take you to my apartment then." he hummed. "Okay?"

"Okay." You agreed. "Oh and Jungkook..."

"Hm?"

You stepped back and looked at the ground. "Don't tell Namjoon about this fear of mine..."

"Why not?"

"It's a little uncool. I want him to see me as mature and having a good handle on life."

Jungkook sighed and nodded. "I don't feel like I'll ever speak to him so chummily, so don't worry about that."

You smiled.

"Take everything you need from your car and we can go."

You grabbed your purse, sunglasses, and all the documents you kept in your car. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow at you judgingly.

"I like working from home?" You grinned weakly.

He rolled his eyes, and wrapped his arm around you to keep you close. Your lips curled up at his warmth as he guided you to his car. You always found yourself indebted to Jungkook, for his kindness and for his knack of appearing when you needed him most.

You watched him scurry to the driver's seat frantically after dropping you into the car.

"Oh shit, this rain is insane. Why did you go out today of all days?" he cursed.

You snorted. "You know I asked myself the same thing just before you arrived."

Jungkook chuckled. "We'll get you dry and toasty in no time. I have some fantastic hot chocolate at my place."

"You make it from scratch?" You teased.

"Oh please. Keurig cups is where it's at now."

"Wow, you don't even do the water and powder anymore, huh? Where have all the good men gone?" You bantered.

"Diss my hot chocolate anymore and I'll kick you out of this car." he bantered. "You have gone too far."

You clapped your hands together in apology. "I apologize for my rudeness."

Jungkook chuckled. "Open that compartment in front of you. You'll find my headphones and Ipod. You can drown out the thunder that way and just close your eyes to block out the lightning."

You smiled as you did as he suggested. "Thank you Jungkook."

"Hey, what're fake boyfriends for?" he grinned.

You covered his hand on his gearshift warmly. He intertwined your fingers reassuringly, and you fell into a trance listening to his ballad playlist.

A few minutes later, you two rushed into his apartment hurriedly to get out of the storm before it became even more violent. With sigh, you collapsed onto Jungkook's floor, praising the Heavens that you had been saved and were now in shelter with good company.

"You okay?" Jungkook chuckled as he knelt down to pat your head.

"Yeah. That was rough."

"That's the most emotional I've seen you..." he smirked. "Other than when you're screaming my name in bed of course."

You glared up at him, but he cheekily padded to one of his rooms.

"I mean, what would you have done without me?" he teased.

"Well, I was trying to reach a few people." You mumbled, annoyed.

"Oh? Who?"

"Just...some people..." You averted your eyes.

Jungkook stepped out and gave you a suspicious look. "Was I...one of them?"

"Uh well...you were next...maybe..." you muttered under your breath, hoping he wouldn't really hear you.

Suddenly, Jungkook snatched your phone from your grip and checked your call history.

"Hey!" You argued. "Invasion of privacy!"

"There's no privacy between us after you gave me your phone password." he hummed as he scrolled.

You pouted, embarrassed. The next few seconds of unnerving silence made you sweat nervously.

"You called Namjoon three times?! And none of these numbers are mine!" Jungkook huffed angrily as he handed your phone back to you. "Why didn't you call me?"

You frowned. "You're always coming to my rescue...Namjoon told me not to lean on you too much cause it might look bad for you as a police officer...and I don't want to be a burden...."

"When did I ever say you were a burden?" Jungkook snapped. "Why do I have to come to your rescue as a cop and not as a friend?"

Your eyes widened. He really did have a point. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. It was unlike Jungkook to be open about his feelings or be upset at all for that matter. The look of hurt on him squeezed your heart. You didn't like that face on him.

"Jungkook, I'm so--"

Jungkook handed you a towel and a pair of his sweats, averting his eyes from you. "The bath should be ready. Go wash up so you don't get sick. Just chuck your clothes out of the bathroom so I can throw it in the wash."

You looked down and nodded. Even when he was mad at you he was taking care of you. Jungkook was such a great guy.

You grabbed the items from him.

"Thank you..." You smiled sadly.

Jungkook nodded curtly and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, you jumped into the shower and as he instructed, you threw your dirty clothes out of the bathroom. You listened intently, waiting for him to take them, and praying he would initiate conversation, that he wasn't truly mad at you.

"Um...you threw out your bra and underwear too..." Jungkook's panicked voice echoed from behind the door.

"Um yeah...I need them cleaned too?" You grinned, figuring that would catch his attention and horror enough to speak to you.

"But..."

"Jungkook...are you freaking out about my undergarments? After you've touched them and what they're covering countless of times?" You chuckled.

"It's not the same context!" he hollered. "I can't believe--"

"You don't have to if --"

"Ugh. I'll just cover it with your other clothes so I don't have to touch it." he muttered.

"Stop treating it like it's contaminated!"

"Who knows, Y/N? Who knows..." he hummed.

"I KNOW! IT'S MINE!" You bellowed.

"Yeah, yeah." Jungkook huffed and you heard his feet padding away from the bathroom.

After you changed and dried your hair, you shuffled to the living room where you heard the TV. Jungkook was in his oversized sweats already too, ready for bed. You sat beside him quietly, trying to feel out the situation.

"How was your school friend hangout?" he questioned softly.

You smiled. "Fun. But nothing beats sitting on the couch in my pajamas."

"You need to get out more."

"Seriously?" You snorted. "From the person who goes to the grocery store at an odd hour so he wouldn't have to run into females?"

He shoved a pillow into your face. "Shut up."

You grabbed the pillow and placed it neatly on his lap. His eyes widened as you laid down and rested on your head on it.

"I'm exhausted, and I had a few drinks."

"You were drinking and driving?" he asked sullenly. "I could fine you for that."

"I was already sober by the time I was driving, please." You rolled your eyes and threw the pillow away, preferring his legs instead.

Jungkook became flustered and you grinned, snuggling up into his stomach. His clothes always smell fantastic-- a mix of soap and laundry detergent. A combination of the simple pleasures in life.

"Thanks again Jungkook...and sorry." You hummed before letting your exhaustion take over.

Jungkook relaxed and stroked your hair gently.

About an hour later, after his show ended, he grabbed your phone from your pocket. Sifting through the numbers, he exhaled and swiped on a name.

"Y/N?"

"Hey, Namjoon...it's Jungkook." Jungkook bit his lip hesitantly.

"Oh. Hey -- is Y/N okay?"

"Yeah, her car broke down and luckily I was on patrol at the time, so I took her to my apartment to wash up. But I know she tried to call you multiple times, but signal was shoddy so yeah...I figured I'd just reach out to you since she probably wanted to but fell asleep instea."

Namjoon was silent for a few seconds and Jungkook looked around his living room, wondering if he had said something weird.

"You want me to pick her up?" Namjoon finally spoke, mild confusion laced in his tone.

"Um well, it's more so she probably wants you to pick her up. She didn't even call me for help, but called you three times." Jungkook chuckled. "I figured she might be more comfortable with you in that case."

Namjoon chuckled. "I don't know about that, but I really appreciate your call, Jungkook. Text me your address and I'll pick her up soon."

"Sure thing."

He quickly messaged Namjoon his apartment address and mumbled to your sleeping figure. "Aren't I the best wingman, hm? You're going to owe me big time for this."

And surely enough, a few minutes later, his doorbell rang. Jungkook grabbed his phone and remotely unlocked his door.

"Go Cloud, go! Attack!" he whispered playfully, but the dog remained in his little bed without a care.

"Jungkook?" Namjoon poked his head in.

"Yeah, come on in! She's sleeping on my legs so I can't come greet you!" he called out half-heartedly.

Namjoon came into view, in matching sweats and a bright red bucket hat. Jungkook fought back the urge to chuckle at his fashion.

"Sorry for the intrusion." Namjoon bowed and put on slippers respectfully.

"No worries. I was the one that called you over." Jungkook nudged you roughly.

"What?" You snapped and shoved his face away, annoyed at being stirred so rudely.

Namjoon was a bit surprised at your behavior.

Jungkook snorted. "Yah. Namjoon's here to take you home or wherever."

"Stop pulling my leg, stupid Jungkook." You swatted at him sleepily and gripped at his sweater. "You just want me to get off you."

Jungkook sang. "You're going to regret doing these when you wake up ~"

"I'll just pick her up." Namjoon offered.

"You sure? She's a bit heavy..." Jungkook questioned.

"Yeah, I got it." He scooped you up in his arms, wobbling a little as he tried to adjust to the new weight.

Jungkook felt a peculiar knot in his stomach at the sight of you curling into the side of Namjoon's neck.

"Thanks for taking care of her, Jungkook." Namjoon glanced at him deeply. "I'll take care of her from here."

Jungkook's stomach dropped at the statement initially, but he soon chuckled to himself and matched the intensity of Namjoon's gaze to show that he was serious as well.

"Please take excellent care of her then... she's all yours."

PART 7: FINALE

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