#((okay back in my depression hole I go))

[mistdrinkersblade]

Crawling out of my hole to show off I redesigned his Dawntrail outfit

[sevenyeargap]

.

[pixelpaladin24]

I've been officially in 2024 for 33 minutes and it's great so far 😁

Happy new year to all of you again!!

[spikeyjo]

ignoring the trans gay and traumatized reasons for hating church.... bro it is just a sensory nightmare in general. you get a cramped pew, you have to sit and stare at one person the entire time, the women in the choir sing at a pitch that could break glass, the preacher is going apeshit and yelling, youre getting in trouble for drawing instead of listening, youre wearing uncomfortable shoes and clothing, and theres a baby sitting in front of you that stares at you for two hours straight

[phagodyke]

my supervisor AND my manager both aren't in today so I'm just practicing shit... im boored

[crackwhorism]

this week made me realize I’m always trying to surround myself with people because I’m still subconsciously terrified of being alone with my thoughts. and I don’t know how effective that is as a coping mechanism because I hung out with myself a lottttt this week and it’s actually been really chill but now i can’t bring myself to talk to anyone without feeling anxious and exhausted and I reallyyy don’t want to go back to my antisocial hermit era damn it why is socialising so much effort if you don’t practice for like two seconds:’)

[barcaatthemoon]

glass || alexia putellas x reader ||

you and alexia get tired of having to be so careful around each other.

alexia knew that there was a lot mentally that went into having a partner like you. she had been your friend for years before the two of you made the decision to start a romantic relationship. you had always been a very emotional person, taking everything to heart even if it wasn't personal. alexia understood that there was a certain tact that had to be used whenever you hit a depressive episode.

for the most part, alexia had mastered how to take care of you when things got bad. she would have walked away from football completely for you, and almost had before. she had taken little breaks, only as much time as you'd allow her. now though, she was torn between doing what you wanted and what she felt was right.

everything that you were going through, alexia went through with you. if you were suffering in silence, then she sat there trying to figure out how to help you. you wanted her to move on, but she couldn't go forward without making sure that you were following her. it had caused quite a few fights, and was why alexia was currently losing her mind at her sister's while she waited for you to text her.

"alexia, you're going to pace a hole right through the floor," alba said, hopeful that her words would distract alexia a bit. "if you are so worried about (y/n), why don't you just go over there? it's your house too."

"she asked for some space, alba. i don't want to crowd her," alexia said. it was very decisive, and alba wished that alexia would have stuck with it. instead, the woman was up and pacing around again before she finally stormed off to get you. alba hadn't been a fan of having alexia there instead of with you, but you had actually asked for alexia to leave for the night. in alexia's mind, now that it was morning, she was free to come check on you.

it wasn't that alexia didn't trust you because there was nobody else in the world that she trusted more. alexia was just scared that you'd get reckless. most of the time when you hurt yourself, it was an accident. it was when you threw caution to the wind that alexia truly got scared.

"(y/n)? it's me, alexia. i'm here to get some things and see how you're doing!" alexia called out into the apartment. you smiled a little to yourself as you walked out of the kitchen. alexia's face dropped as she saw you holding a kitchen towel over your hand. "what happened?"

"it's fine, i was just trying to make something for breakfast. i was going to call you over, but i was never good at cutting the meat." you were far more relaxed about this than alexia was. she rushed over to inspect your cut as it flowed blood into the towel.

"i can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can i?" alexia sounded angry. every movement she made was overly aggressive as she dragged you to the bathroom to clean you up.

"alexia, i can take care of myself," you tried to tell her. you tried to break away from her, which snapped alexia out of whatever little mood she had been in. "it's fine. i mean, i'm fine, so it's okay. it was an accident, you'd know that if you had let me get a word in."

"it's not just this, but i am sorry. i reacted badly," alexia apologized. she leaned back against the sink as she watched you wrap your hand. "we should go to the hospital for that."

"it's just a cut. you opened it when you grabbed my wrist like that, give it a moment and it'll stop," you told her. alexia sighed as she tried to move towards you. you flinched away, and alexia swore that she felt her heart shatter in her chest. "i'm going to clean up in the kitchen. i'm not very hungry anymore."

"no, (y/n) wait! go in the living room, i'll make us breakfast," alexia offered. you wanted to just crawl into bed and forget about the world until training, but alexia wouldn't let that happen. you walked past her wordlessly and settled on the couch, watching from there as alexia moved around the kitchen to finish breakfast. it was pretty obvious to her what you had started, so with a bit of difficulty, alexia finished.

"it looks good, you didn't burn the eggs this time," you complimented. alexia turned slightly, just enough to hide her plate from you. truthfully, you could smell the bit of egg that had definitely burnt, but you didn't want to pick any fights with alexia. you didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

"i'm sorry that i got angry earlier. i want you to know that i wasn't mad at you, i was just scared. alba told me not to stay the night, that i should march my sorry ass back here and just stay in my office. i only came back here because i was scared when you hadn't said good morning. i tried to do things right by you, but instead, i fucked up. i'm mad at myself," alexia explained.

"i'm mad that you don't trust me anymore. maybe you never did, but you were better at hiding it then. now, it's like we're both trying to dance with broken glass all over the floor. you're graceful and agile, but i keep stomping on the pieces and making it worse."

"then let's be up front about it. we'll stop pretending that the glass isn't there. i get scared when you stop caring because what if something happens and you don't try to stop it? you could leave without me, but i couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." you glanced over at alexia, who was fully crying now. there had once been a time when you'd have burst into sympathetic tears, but now all you felt was guilt. you felt awful about yourself for scaring her like this, even if none of it was on purpose. "talk to me, please."

"i'll be more careful. it's not for myself right now, it's for you, but that's one hell of a reason to take care of myself. i'll go through the proper steps to try and get better. it's not fair after i've been like this to just ask you to trust me when i wouldn't trust myself. i made this mess, and i'm happy that you aren't going to make me clean it up by myself."

"thank you," alexia mumbled as she leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. you settled back against the couch with one of her arms around your shoulders. alexia picked at her plate until you gave her half of yours and put in an order for delivery.

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: virgin!sub!Jisung x fangirl!Dom!fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Corruption kink (ish). Blowjob. He's a lil lost in the sauce.

| wc: 5.5k

| aurora's note: shout out to @floresmu3rtas for being my co-conspirator for this one. pt 2 coming soon on her blog hehehee

| part two (written by @floresmu3rtas) // part three

What an odd turn of events the night of your concert took… On the way to the stadium, you and your friends talked about getting burgers after the show to cure your inevitable post-concert depression, and once you were in bed, you’d sit down in pajamas and go through all of the freebies you guys collected. It sounded like fun. After all, you just spent hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars going to see NCT Dream live for the first time ever, so why wouldn’t you go early to collect freebies, record all the videos possible, then go home and reflect on the fun night with your friends? But on your way out of the show, you were stopped. A security guard came out from behind  the barricade while the crowds slowly shuffled towards the exit, and he approached your friend group directly. He wore all black and a mask to cover his face… It was leagues different from the stadium’s security who wore bright yellow shirts and looked like they wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed instead of having to make sure some idiot fangirls didn’t try to climb onto the stage.

“My boss wants to talk to you,” he said directly to you, unflinching when you were struck with so much confusion that you looked around at your friends for an explanation they couldn’t provide.

“Am I in trouble?” you asked.

“No.”

So, albeit reluctantly, you handed your bag of freebies and your lightstick to your friends before following the man through the hole in the barricade that was covered up by stadium security once you were in, and you were casually led backstage where the staff was working to take down the set in order to transport it to the next tour stop in two days. Every once in a while, the security guard would glance over his shoulder to make sure that you were following him. Of course you were. There were so many staff members running around that you feared getting lost or dragged away in the chaos of it all, so you stuck close to him. When he dove into a side room, you followed. Standing there was a manager you recognized from Twitter posts of the members at airports— He was Jisung’s manager, specifically… And beside him was a woman you didn’t recognize, but she welcomed you with a smile even though the manager and the security guard didn’t.

“Welcome,” she said kindly. Your anxiety was eased by her somewhat. “Sorry for jumping you like this and everything, I know you’re probably confused and a bit scared.” You blushed in response, unsure of what to say. Were you in trouble… Or… “One of our bosses wants to talk to you privately later, but our job is to make sure that you’re okay with talking to him, and that whatever kind of… conversation… happens, that it stays private between the two of you.”

Oh?

She gestured to the manager who put a small stack of papers on the coffee table that sat between you and them. “I’m a lawyer for SM, and this is one of the managers for the group. If you’d like to talk to our boss as much as he’d like to talk to you, we’re here to witness before anything else happens that you sign these papers.”

You stepped forward to find what you already knew in the back of your mind since you were stopped with your friends, yet you refused to admit it until you saw the words “NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT” typed at the top of the document. Fuck. Okay… Sure… It was happening… The unrealistic Y/N type of story you read a million times over on the internet somehow graced your reality, and of all people, it seemed that it was Jisung who wanted to “talk” to you… Fuck. Shit. Okay. Fuck.

“You don’t have to sign, if you don’t want to. I want to make that clear,” the lawyer continued.

“No, I’ll sign,” you replied quickly before your thoughts could catch up to your mouth. You blushed at your eagerness. It seemed a bit pathetic to jump at the opportunity so quickly with little to no information from the other three people standing in the room— And why the hell did Jisung want to “talk” to you? What the fuck was going on!

The lawyer smiled and sat on the couch beside the coffee table, and she gestured for you to join her, so you did. The security guard remained at the door, and the manager sat across from you. “All this legal nonsense basically just states that you can’t tell anyone about what happens tonight between you and any of the members of the group and any staff members, including myself. You can’t record audio or visuals of any situation. You can’t post any details on social media. If you break any of these regulations, then the company has the right to sue you for breach of contract, and there’s usually a fine involved. If any kind of pornography were to be recorded and/or distributed, you’ll be sued by the company for breach of contract and distribution of revenge pornography.” She chuckled nervously to mirror your own reaction, then she put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I know it’s overwhelming. Again, you don’t have to sign, and you’re free to leave at any point. And you should know that if anything illegal happens, you do have the right to go to the police, and you won’t be sued for breach of contract. Okay?”

You nodded vaguely.

“We’ll give you a few minutes to read and decide if you still want to sign. After that, if you sign, we’ll take you to see our boss. If you don’t want to sign, that’s alright too, we’ll just help you find a way home, alright?”

You nodded again.

“Okay.”

She gestured to the security guard and the manager who stepped out of the room while she went to a mini fridge in the corner of the room so that she could grab a soda as she scrolled through her phone, pretending not to hover in order to give you space to make your decision. You’d be stupid not to sign, right? If you were ever allowed to tell your friends— Which, obviously the NDA in front of you was airtight, so you wouldn’t be able to, but… If they knew, and if you didn’t sign, they would slap you silly for fucking up the chance to spend time with Jisung. You had to sign. Of course you did. Right? Shit. Reading the document made it scarier because the whole situation was becoming all too real.

Ah, fuck it.

You picked up the pen next to the papers, and you flipped to the last page to sign. The lawyer immediately looked up and pocketed her phone, striding to return to you so that she could collect the signed papers.

“Alright, I’ll have the security guard outside take you to the hotel the boys are staying at. I’m sure you understand that you’ll be led there discreetly, and once you’re there, you can’t tell anyone about what happens. Yes?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

“If something happens, though, if you need anything, here’s my number.” She handed you her business card. “And don’t forget, you can always say no… And, um… If you need to leave, you can.”

You stared at her. Was it wrong to sell your life away so carelessly like that? She was distributing her warnings like there was prior experience, and you hoped that it had nothing to do with what you were about to confront. Still, your legs carried you to the door where the security guard was standing, and once the manager in the hallway noticed the signed papers, he walked off to go handle something while the security guard turned to lead you through the corridors of the stadium to the backstage garage. There, a black van was waiting with the engine running. The security guard climbed in, and you followed, then another guard closed the van’s door. With two brief thuds on the backside of the car, the driver started off out of the garage.

The drive to the hotel was a silent one. Neither the driver nor the security guard sitting next to you said anything. While you stared out the window, asking yourself what was going to happen, the security guard texted on his phone. You wondered if it was about work, if he was texting the manager or Jisung about where you were, and that you’d signed the NDA, and that you were shaking with anxiety. How many girls had they done this with? How many different girls had Jisung spotted in the crowd, despite the bright stage lights that made it next to impossible to see anything at all 

At the hotel, everything was just as quiet as the car ride, most people already asleep or at least in the comfort of their rooms, save for the one employee at the front desk in the lobby who only greeted you with a smile as you passed by to follow the security guard to the elevator. No one joined you on the way up to the seventh floor. And no one interrupted you as the security card swiped the key to the sixth room and opened the door for you to step inside.

“He’ll be here in about ten minutes.” That was all he said before closing the door on you.

So you waited. Awkwardly. Standing in the middle of the hotel room, the bed a mess from what you assumed had to have been his mid-day nap before the show, his suitcase left open on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed, his toiletries neatly sorted on the bathroom counter. Boredom struck fast, and though you certainly didn’t feel comfortable touching anything, you decided to look around a bit. He used Crest toothpaste, and whitening strips, which shocked you, truth be told. There were a plethora of hair and skin care products that all had Korean labels, so you were unsure what they were all for.

Before you knew it, the front door was opening, and in walked Jisung Park. He hesitated in the doorway, the door still open, the security guard and his manager standing behind him. For a moment, he stared at you in silence. While you were still dressed to the nines for the concert, Jisung was already in a matching set of gray sweats and wearing his glasses instead of contacts. The only remnants from the concert were the sparkly stickers on his cheek and his stage make up.

He turned to whisper something in Korean to the men behind him before he quietly closed the door and stayed with his back turned to you for a minute. You were suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. There he was, an idol, the idol of your favorite group, and yet you couldn’t seem to jump with excitement because of his mundane reaction to having a woman— A fangirl— waiting for him in his hotel room. Were you not what he wanted? Did he mean for one of your other friends to be pulled out of the crowd?

Then, with swift, quick steps, Jisung walked right past you without a second glance. Maybe he was acting so casual because he was used to it, and it was you who was doing something wrong. Were you supposed to be on the bed already? Or waiting on the couch? Were you supposed to look at him or keep your eyes down? Were you supposed to greet him or was the whole exchange meant to be silent? Maybe he just wanted to fuck you then toss you to the side like idols were rumored to do.

Jisung let out a shaky sigh. He turned to you slowly, finally sending a smile in your direction before bowing at the hip and introducing himself in English… As if he needed to explain to you who he was… Only hours prior you’d been screaming his name at the top of your lungs while fighting to get his attention in the sea of other fangirls. Of course you knew who he fucking was, why else would you have signed that NDA? Still, you did the polite thing by introducing yourself briefly and quietly, unsure if he really cared for your name or not.

He stared at you for another moment. “Do you want anything? Water? Soda? Alcohol? I can order room service.”

You shook your head. “I’m alright, thank you.”

And then he stared at you again. “You’re a fan, yes?” He walked to the mini fridge to pull out a soda. You nodded. “Am I your favorite?”

“Yes.”

He blushed down at the can in his hand while he struggled to open it. You noticed then that his hands were shaking and his foot was tapping against the carpet nervously. He looked almost as anxious as you.

“Sorry, I’ve just...  I don’t know what I’m doing. This was a bad idea, I think… Fucking Jeno…”

“Hey, listen, we don’t have to do anything.”

Jisung looked at you suddenly, the panic in his eyes wavering with the little bit of hope provided by your words. “Jjinja?”

“Yeah.”

He exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry about all this.” He set down the soda, abandoning the thought of fighting to open it any longer. “Was, um, was the show fun?”

“My friends and I had a lot of fun. It’s the first time we’ve seen you perform live. Did you have fun?”

“Yes.” His English seemed mildly limited, so he kept his answers brief in order to not embarrass himself, not that you would’ve minded.

Silence lingered again, the two of you unsure of what to do with yourselves. Eventually, Jisung figured it was more comfortable to pass the awkward time by sitting on the couch, his coke defrosting on the table next to him. Did he not like you? Did he not want you? Was he too shy or nice to kick you out? You wished he would just say what was on his mind rather than leave you to fend for yourself, flailing desperately in a situation you had no familiarity with. So in an attempt to figure out what he actually wanted, you poked the bear.

“We could try one thing, if you wanted.”

Like a deer lost in headlights, Jisung continued to stare at you with wide eyes behind his glasses. “Like what?”

“I could give you a blow job.”

He choked on air.

“But if you don’t want to, we can just talk… Or I can leave… Whatever makes you happy.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered under his breath, looking down at his fidgeting hands. 

You didn’t really catch what he said. The quiet volume of his scared voice and the broken English made you reconsider if you even heard it at all.

Warily sitting next to him, you pried, “What do you mean?”

Jisung bit his swollen bottom lip. “I’ve never…” And then he rubbed a cool palm on the back of his neck to keep it from turning red with embarrassment, even though it was far too late. “I’ve never, um… Done that.”

For a moment, you wondered if there was a language barrier blocking you from understanding what he really meant. Then he looked at you with those wide, innocent eyes, and you knew the truth. He really hadn’t… Not even a blowjob? Or fingering a girl? Was that why he was so shy with  you— Not because you were a fan in his hotel room? You couldn’t help but laugh with relief. Jisung’s face fell and his body slumped with defeat.

“I’m not laughing at you!” you promised through one last giggle. “I thought you just didn’t like me or something.”

He panicked. “No, no! I think you’re really pretty…” He smiled through a blush that made him avert his gaze once more. “Jjinja… Geundae…” The cogs in his brain were working to find the right words in English. “I am… embarrassed… I don’t know what to do.”

“You wouldn’t have to do anything.”

That made him appear more self-conscious.

“I could teach you.”

It looked like he was about to pass out when you said that, endless possibilities forming behind his eyes that were slowly glazing over with lust. His eyes were so cute. When he looked like he was silently pleading for you to do just that, because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words confidently, you just about swooned thanks to the cuteness aggression twisting in your stomach. It was a wonder how a guy like him was a virgin with no experience. Since he was an idol, you just assumed off the bat, and because of the lawyer’s concerning warnings at the stadium, that he’d pulled aside plenty of girls and fucked them into different hotel mattresses then had them escorted out once he was done. But no. It sounded like maybe some of the others were used to that, but not Jisung. His bouncing leg and fidgeting hands over his lap directed your attention down to the erection growing in his sweatpants. Was he really that worked up just at the thought of having a fan blow him off? He should’ve just said so the second he walked through the front door instead of making you think he was regretting asking for you.

Still, you triple checked for consent before daring to touch him. “Do you want to?” It was as simple as you could make the question for him.

“Ne— Yes! Yes…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Finally, with a smile, you inched closer to him on the couch, his body tensing up slightly in response, but he didn’t move or say anything to stop you. You stared at his lips while he stared at your tits. Obviously you’d worn something revealing in the hopes of getting your silly Y/N moment, but it was a pipe dream at the time, and now it was your reality.

“Here.” You took one of his shaky hands from his lap and lifted it to your breasts, guiding him to press his palm over one of them. He let out a shaky breath that made you feel the warmth on the tip of your nose. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” He nodded quickly. “When?”

“In high school… And once at the company… And… on New Year's Eve.”

He remembered all of his kisses? Adorable.

“Kiss me, then.”

Jisung hesitated, his breath still hot on your nose; But with a light squeeze around your covered boob, he leaned in and pressed his plump lips against yours. That was all he did. He pecked you, but he didn’t put effort into making out with you, with or without tongue. Maybe that was all those silly kisses in the past had been. So instead of interrogating him more, you took the lead, showing him how to do it properly by tilting your head the other way then sticking your tongue into his mouth. Jisung moaned followed by another squeeze that made you mewl in response.

It took him a bit to learn. The noticeable hesitancy in his kisses and touches indicated that he was worried about scaring you off at any moment, but you tried your best to encourage him by leaning more into him and squeezing your hand over his so that he would massage your breasts more. Of his own volition, his other hand went to your chest as well. You grinned against his lips before drifting to kiss his sharp jawline that all your friends fawned over in group chats, then you left a trail of kisses down to his neck. You knew that you couldn’t leave any marks. As fun as it would be to leave a hickey there to let the rest of the world know that you were the first person who ever got him off, it would be more of a hassle to cover it with makeup and hide it until the bruising subsided than it was worse. She’d probably get yelled at by his manager or the group’s lawyer. So you refrained from doing everything you wanted…

Instead, you left gentle, fluttering kisses that made Jisung moan up into the still hotel air. He was so sensitive. Had no one kissed the rest of his body before? Had it only been his lips? Surely whoever it was at the company that kissed him— Perhaps another idol— or whichever lucky dunk girl kissed him on New Years thought to kiss his neck and collarbones. How could they not? His skin was so perfect, and the contrast between his natural skin tone and the makeup he was wearing made your head spin. You thought about what he would look like bare faced… Unfortunate that you would never get to see it up close. The best you were ever going to get was him in sweats and stage make up, his erection in full throttle in his pants.

Your hand moved from your own lap to his knee, causing Jisung to jolt slightly and whimper. You turned to kiss the other side of his neck. Jisung’s thumbs tried to stimulate your nipples over your clothes, but there was simply too much fabric in the way, so he whined again and went back to massaging them. However, his movements came to a standstill when you ran your splayed left hand up his thigh before settling directly over his hard-on.

“Ssibal,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

Your free hand grabbed his chin. “Look at me.” So he did, his eyes glossed over with so much pleasure that he couldn’t open them all the way. When you palmed him briefly, Jisung let out a gasp and hunched forward slightly, his eyes really struggling to stay open for you now. “Does it feel good?”

“Ne.”

As your hand found the drawstring of his sweatpants, you released his chin so that you could slide off the couch and fall to your knees, multitasking between undoing his pants and crawling between his legs that he spread in order to accommodate you while he leaned back against the couch. Jisung watched you studiously. You could tell that behind those glasses of his, he was trying to memorize every detail of you and what you were doing for his spank-bank. The way you looked up at him through your lashes while you expertly untied his pants and helped him lift his hips so that you could pull his sweats down to his ankles. The way you teased him over his boxers for a minute just to get a visceral reaction out of him that made you giggle. The way you took off his underwear so easily. And, of course, what that first touch around his cock felt like.

Jisung’s hands balled into fists around the hem of his sweatshirt. “Fuck—” When your thumb ran over his tip, he shivered and squeezed his thighs together. “Fuck—“

You grinned. Poor thing already couldn’t tell left from right or up from down. Perhaps you could remind him by slowly pumping your fist up and down his length. Jisung wasn’t exactly what you expected. In all the fanfics you’d read about him, and all the times you speculated with friends, you never really stopped to imagine anything beyond his length. People liked to say he had a big cock. He did. Though, much of it had to do with said length you always theorized over, while his girth was just enough to fit in your hand that was wrapped around it. His tip was a dark shade somewhere between brown and pink, and the rest of him was dark and veiny… like his shaking hands. 

“You can touch me,” you told him.

His hands remained clasped around the fabric of his sweatshirt. You saw a bit of hesitancy, a twitch like he wanted to touch you, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it for whatever reason, so you continued what you were doing, jerking him off slowly until you saw precum seeping out of his tip. You grinned before licking it up suddenly. Jisung groaned and jerked again, his hands reaching to touch you before they retreated to his sweatshirt again. You watched him through your lashes as you replaced your fist with your mouth wrapped around his tip, your cheeks hollowing before you sunk down. His body couldn’t keep still. Even though you were trapped between his knees, his legs were desperately trying to close in around your shoulders, and his feet were tapping against the carpet at the same fast pace that his long, veiny fingers were fiddling with his sweatshirt.

As you came up for air, your hand pumped him slowly, and you asked with a grin, “Is this okay?”

He nodded desperately. “Please don’t stop.”

You obliged his pathetic plea, your mouth sinking back down, taking in his entire length until your nose bumped his shaved pubic bone. He whimpered like a wounded puppy, but his hips bucked up gently to encourage you to keep going. So you did. You found a steady rhythm switching between sucking him off and jerking him off, making sure to swallow every bit of sticky pre-cum he leaked into your mouth. He was covered in drool, but he didn’t seem to mind since it provided more lubrication for you to go faster and faster, prying the cutest, most pitiful moans you had ever heard in your entire life. Honestly, by the looks and sounds coming from him, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Virgins. They were always the most sensitive and eager to cum quickly.

“Gidarida— Ssibal, I’m cumming, fuck—”

There it was.

Jisung bit his lip and bucked up into your mouth while holding your head down. With his strong hold on you, all you could really do was use your tongue to rub against his cock while he rode out his orgasm. The amount of cum that filled your mouth was slightly surprising— You tried your best to swallow, but you were running out of air, until he finally released you, giving you a chance to lift up and breathe before cleaning up the mess dripping down his length. He slumped with an exhausted grunt.

After catching his breath for a moment, he opened his eyes to look down at you while you were wiping your lips with your thumb. “Are you okay?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah.”

“Sorry if I… Um… If you couldn’t breathe…”

You laughed out loud. “I’m fine, I promise. Did it feel good?”

Jisung blushed a bright color of red while nodding. He lifted his hips so that he could put his pants back on before raising his hood over his shaggy black hair.

When he noticed you moving to stand on your feet, Jisung leaned forward to offer his hands for you, which you gladly took, using his strength and leverage to push yourself up; However, once you were up, Jisung didn’t move you to the couch like you wanted, nor did he start leading you towards the front door like you half expected. No, Jisung acted like a gentleman, leading you to the bed where he had you sit down comfortably.

“I have some clean clothes you can wear if you want to be more comfortable,” he offered shyly.

Now it was your turn to stare like a deer lost in headlights. Why was he offering his clothes to you? How could he offer up something like that so freely— Then again, maybe wearing his clothes was more tame than sucking him off after only just meeting him for the first time.

“Sure.”

Jisung turned to his suitcase on the luggage rack and he began digging around for some clothes.

“And I’ll take you up on that water now,” you croaked.

Jisung nodded obediently, rushing to the mini fridge to grab a bottle before handing it to you then going back to looking for clothes. He ended up retrieving one of the merch shirts available at the stadium earlier— One that you actually bought despite your achingly empty wallet— and a pair of gray sweats eerily similar to his. After handing the clothes to you, he whispered something about going to wash his face in the bathroom in the meantime. You watched as Jisung timidly scurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, either for his privacy or his own, you weren't too sure, and then you heard the sink running. For a good thirty seconds, you were paralyzed on the bed, holding his clothes in your hands, staring at the couch you’d just given him a blowjob on. Jisung Park had only kissed four people in his lifetime, and  you were one of them. Even worse, you were the first and only person to ever suck him off… The first and only person to ever make him cum… What the fuck…

You forced yourself out of your trance of disbelief so that you could change before he was done. You folded your own clothes neatly since you’d probably have to wear them out of the hotel later, but you kept your underwear and bra on for safety purposes. Besides, it was his clothes you were wearing, you felt too awkward to go completely naked underneath. And as you were taking down your hair, you heard the water shut off followed by Jisung asking if he could come out. When you told him it was safe, the door reopened and he stepped out.

He gulped when he saw you. “You really are very pretty.”

To hide your blush, you drank from the water bottle he gave you. Jisung moved across the hotel room, initiating the next segment of the night where he laid on his side in the messy bed, leaving plenty of space for you while he watched you anticipatingly.

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck.”

“I don’t,” he said with the most amount of confidence you’d heard from him all night, even in comparison to when he was on stage. “I just don’t want you to leave yet. Is that okay?”

The way you easily slid into bed, setting the water bottle down on the bedside table, was enough of an answer, but you still entertained him with a quiet, “That’s okay.”

Jisung shifted as you both worked to pull the covers up your torsos to keep warm. “I was going to wear that shirt for sound check tomorrow,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle. “It was the only clean one I had left.” You panicked, immediately sitting up to take it off while apologizing for being an inconvenience, but Jisung reached out to stop you. Both of you paused with his hands on your wrists. “It’s okay. I like seeing you wear it better.”

You looked away from him due to your own self-consciousness as you laid back down with him.

Both of you settled in the bed comfortably, his elbow propped on his pillow so that his hand could hold up his head while he stared at you. Part of you was too overwhelmed to look at him. Mere hours ago you’d been cheering at his concert as a stranger, and now he knew your name, and you’d sucked his cock. You weren’t really strangers anymore. But you weren’t friends or something other than that either. You were just an awkward one night stand that he would remember as “that one time in a hotel on tour” the next time some lucky girl would ask for his history before taking his virginity. Whoever she would be, she was damn lucky, and she didn’t even know it yet… It was a shame it couldn’t be you, honestly. Not because he was an idol you loved, but because he was so adorable, and hot, and well-equiped to fuck you. The idea of teaching him everything there was to know about fucking a girl, corrupting his innocent, bashful mind made you wet, but you had to clench your legs shut to make sure he wouldn’t find out or get suspicious after you’d change out of his clothes. Whenever that would be. Did he expect you to stay the night? Why else would he give you his clothes? What would the morning look like? What would everything after the morning look like?

“Have you ever thought about visiting Korea?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t have money like that though. Not yet, at least. Maybe one day I can go— I always wanted to see a concert there.” You giggled at the thought.

Jisung smiled back at you, his hand falling out from under him so that his cheek could hit the pillow while he continued to stare. He didn’t say anything else. You waited for him to instigate another conversation, and you wished that you could think of something to talk to him about aside from idol life or his personal life. You weren’t sure what was appropriate. But by the time you decided to ask him if he had any pets, Jisung was sound asleep next to you, a content smile still plastered to his face. You smirked and brushed his bangs out of his face.

[mechaknight-98]

Out of Sight(NSFW) FT Jihyo

Author’s Notes: the absolute chokehold this woman has on me is insane. You can probably blame @smuttysabina for that because of that one fanfic (that writer knows the one) and also blame jade from warframe because the warframe itself reminded me of Jihyo and now my brain is worse off because of it, but lastly blame the writer who asked me to do my riff on “love after domination” here’s my take on it. Instead of going sentai though I went more for an Ultraman style which will become clearer as to why if I write more. So please bear with me.

The usually excitable Diabolos was unusually perplexed and stoic. As he walked into the bathroom during the concert of one of his favorite groups Twice He saw Jihyo the leader sitting on the toilet. Despite her exposed nature she still looked radiant as if on stage she looked even better this close to Diabolos.

However, Diabolos was a gentleman of sorts and wanted to keep things proper so he nodded silently and walked out of the restroom before Jihyo called out to him.

“Wait mister come back.” Diabolos against his better judgment turned back and looked at Jihyo who stared at him with big soft eyes full of concern

“Can I ask a favor, mister?” Jihyo asked. Diabolos nodded wordlessly and with a slow movement.

“Can you not tell anyone about this?” Jihyo asked and she received another slow nod from Diabolos. Jihyo smiled in a way that melted Diabolos’s heart. As she finished up in the bathroom she kissed Diabolos’s cheek. Before scurrying off. Diabolos squinted trying to process what just happened. When he went to the restroom and made sure to lock it so he wouldn’t have unexpected visitors. When he finished he went back to his seat. To enjoy the rest of the concert.

He paid special attention to Jihyo. What he didn’t know was that while he was looking for her in all the stages she was looking for him in the crowd. Despite the massive crowd she was determined to find him. She would scan an area for his hat which had her romanized name in pretty letters before moving on to an area.

During one of the breaks, Dahyun noticed her leader was super focused during the performance on the crowd and wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Jihyo-unnie are you okay you looked so intense on stage. Jihyo nodded and replied,

“There was this boy I met when I went to the bathroom who had my name on his hat and I was trying to find him.”

Dahyun smiled then said, “Oh well then let me help you find him. You know two pairs of eyes are better than one.” Jihyo smiled and said

“Thanks, Dubu.” Dahyun nodded and gave a thumbs-up. After this, it was time for them to go back up and do their joint sub-unit with Sana who also agreed to help. Eventually with all of them looking they found their guy he was in the left corner of the excited arena. Dubu’s eagle eyes were the first to spot him, and let Jihyo and Diabolos have their moment as they locked eyes Diabolos felt butterflies in his chest. It feels like Jihyo is staring right at him as she sings push and pull.

For a moment the rest of the arena fades away and it’s just Jihyo and Diabolos. They look at each other and as they get a feel for each other’s vibe Jihyo sees the fire and passion in Diabolos while Diabolos feels the heart and charm.

After the concert, Diabolos heads to a burger joint on the way home. Its familiar white and red architecture is comforting to the weird hole gnawing itself in the young man. As he sits there and tries to reduce his post-concert depression his eyes track the motion of the door that opens and the subsequent bodies that enter the restaurant. When he does his eyes meet a familiar pair of brown eyes and his heart races. Jihyo sees Diabolos in the restaurant and quickly mirrors his shyness as she’s hoping not to be recognized. Sana sees this and after the order pushes Jihyo to interact with him. Obviously, in her mind, they are meant to be or at least meet each other.

Jihyo sits across from Diabolos with a shy smile

Diabolos shyly looks up at Jihyo and says “Hi.” Jihyo smiles back and then as if they’ve known each other forever they start chatting

“Your performance was stellar as always.” Diabolos initiated

Jihyo smiles, “Why thank you. I love your hat who made it?”’

Diabolos chuckles, “I made the logo then had it embroidered on.”

Jihyo beams, “I love that. Do you have another one?” Diabolos considers for a moment then says,

“You can have this one.” Jihyo's eyes grow to the size of saucers as Diabolos gently places the black dad hat with her embroidered name in red on her head. She joyfully beams as she feels the comfort it provides.

As he finished the cashier called his name.

“Diabolos your order is ready.” Diabolos gets up feeling bold and says to Jihyo

“Well, Yo-yo looks like our time is up. I’ll see you when I see you.” Before going up picking up his food and leaving. Jihyo watched as he left transfixed. How strange he didn’t talk to her like she was God Jihyo's leader twice but like she was just another person. After the exchange, Sana sat next to Jihyo and teased her

“Yo-yo that’s a new one.” Jihyo was still bewildered by this guy. Then said

“I want to see him again,” she opened her phone and pulled out Instagram where she was bombarded by webtoons, lol videos, and beauty tips she entered search and typed Diabolos to the best of her ability. After 15 or so minutes she found him.

To keep track of him she took a picture of her with her hat and tagged him. The caption read, “A cool once gave me this cool hat.”

Surmising that he wouldn’t be able to avoid her or resist responding she set her phone down and addressed Sana.

“Hey Unnie how did you…”

The next day Diabolos wakes up to a crazy surprise of over 1800 direct messages asking him for hats or variants of it for different members of twice. He squints at the messages and then sighs before combing through them listing all the major requests and all of the minor ones. After he was done it seemed like it was roughly 200 per member so he got to work designing logos/ symbols for each member and making a website. After spending much of the day doing that he linked it to his page the saw that Jihyo had tagged him in her post with the hat.

“That clever little sneak,” Diabolos said as began writing a reply comment

“Thanks, Yo-yo,” Jihyo smiles as she starts singing Moonlight Sunrise

Over the next few weeks, Jihyo attempts to send a dm to Diabolos but can’t due to numerous schedules and concerts. At the same time, Diabolos also tries to send a message to Jihyo while building a small indie fashion brand.

9 weeks later the two are finally free of the hectic mess of concerts and satisfying orders. Diabolos reaches out to Jihyo.

“Hey, Yo-yo thanks for the shout-out I appreciate it. How was the rest of the tour?”

When Jihyo saw the message she smiled and said, “Got ya.”

“Well I had to do something to be able to see you again,” Jihyo typed.

Diabolos smirks at Jihyo's message

“I’d love to but I have to ask is this a date?”

The message popped into Jihyo’s inbox. She laughed before responding

“Maybe…I want you all to myself.” She typed and cringed.

“I’m spending too much time with Sana,” Jihyo thought to herself.

Diabolos saw the message then smiled decided to tease Jihyo,

“Wait I thought you were dating this one dude the buff gym guy?”

Jihyo read Diabolos’s message and pouted before typing back

“Have you seen me with him?”

Diabolos furrowed his brow, “That doesn’t answer my question,” he typed

Jihyo smirked back in control, “Tell you what how about you visit me and then I’ll answer your question.”

Diabolos sighed and then typed “fine” before rolling his eyes and setting his phone down. In the spur of the moment, he had an idea for more merch and began sketching a design.

When he finished his first sketch Jihyo texted him back,

“Really (crying emoticon)” the text read.

Diabolos responded yes and Jihyo cheered

“Thank you thank you thank you, Dio.” Jihyo sent it before she could finish her text.

Diabolos raised an eyebrow before texting back “Dio?”

Jihyo panicked but held firm, “Sorry spell check didn’t work.”

Diabolos smirked

“Dio… I like it.” Jihyo smiled and said

“Well then Dio it is!” Jihyo replied elated. When she calmed down enough she sent the message saying, “But really, you should visit Korea. I’d love to show you around.”

After that Diabolos decided to show Jihyo his new design he was dubbing Chibihyo. It was a little chibi version of her.

When Jihyo saw it she smiled and typed, “Oh is that me? It’s so cute. I WANT IT!!!!”

Diabolos laughed and responded, “I’ll give you the prototypes when I finish them.” Jihyo smiled in response.

After a few minutes, Jihyo got bold and said, “Hey what are you doing in 9 weeks?”

Diabolos raised an eyebrow, “nothing?” He text back. Jihyo smiled and then sent

“You wanna go to Thailand with me?”

Thinking Jihyo was joking Diabolos responded, “Sure! Sounds like a blast.”

Jihyo unable to read Diabolos’s sarcasm responded, “Great! I’ll send you the information later.”

Realizing he was S.O.L. He resigned to his fate.

“Guess I’m going to Thailand,” he said to himself.

The week before leaving for Thailand Diabolos successfully filled all his first-wave orders and was now accepting the second-wave of orders. His net revenue for the venture was 180% bigger than the salary of his office job which he quit the week after he got everything set up.

His dad was surprised by his success but abundantly grateful and impressed at his resourcefulness to turn the opportunity in his favor.

On the day of leaving for Thailand Diabolos Sr. Prayed for his son’s safety and that no war would chase him.

Upon arriving Diabolos checked into the hotel and went looking for Jihyo who said she would be in Bangkok when he flew in.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling streets of Bangkok, Diabolos found himself standing at the entrance of a cozy, riverside restaurant. The air was filled with the scent of spices and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. He adjusted his shirt, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Jihyo had suggested Thailand for their first date, a place she had visited once before, adding an element of adventure to their meeting. As he scanned the crowd, his eyes landed on Jihyo, who was walking toward him with a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with the same excitement he felt. Her multicolored dress beautifully adorned her body as it wrapped around her vixen figure.

"Hey, Yo-yo," Diabolos greeted, offering a shy smile as she approached.

"Hi, Dio," Jihyo replied warmly, her cheeks flushed with the evening heat and the thrill of finally being together.

They settled at a table overlooking the Chao Phraya River, the water reflecting the city lights like a shimmering mosaic. As they browsed the menu, filled with exotic Thai dishes, they exchanged stories of their recent adventures and laughed over shared memories of their online exchanges.

The conversation flowed easily, with Jihyo teasing Diabolos about his ever-growing hat business and Diabolos playfully asking about her latest performances. Their playful banter was punctuated by moments of shared silence, comfortable and filled with the unspoken connection that had drawn them to this moment.

After dinner, they decided to explore the vibrant night market nearby, where they wandered through the colorful stalls, tasting street food and picking out small trinkets for each other. Diabolos found himself drawn to Jihyo's laughter and enthusiasm, and as they wandered through the bustling market, it felt as if they were in their world, untouched by the chaos around them.

As the night drew to a close, they found a quiet spot by the river, where they sat side by side, watching boats drift lazily along the water. Jihyo leaned her head on Diabolos's shoulder, and he felt a sense of contentment he hadn't expected.

"Thank you for coming all the way here," Jihyo said softly.

Diabolos smiled, wrapping an arm around her. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Jihyo smiled, “So Korea next time right Dio?” Jihyo asked. Diabolos nodded before he remembered.

“Out of his backpack, he took a red and black dad hat out of it and handed it to Jihyo who squealed with Glee seeing it.

“Ooh, I love it,” she said

As I pulled by puppet strings Diabolos said, “Well I love you so we are even.” Jihyo turned to him puzzled but smiled. The weight of Diabolos’s words didn’t hit him till he was back in his hotel room.

When Diabolos gets back he officially launches wave 2 of his fashion brand to include new designs, shirts, socks and shorts. He also expanded outside of K-pop merch and into some of the other nerdy stuff he was into; Super Sentai, Kamen Rider, Daemon x Machina, and a few other things. If the first wave was a success the second one was more so. Half of his stock sold out in minutes. A week and a half later everything was sold. Surprised at the success he takes a step back to consider his next few moves when Jihyo texts him.

“I tried getting one of everything I didn’t have, but your website sold out.” She said

Diabolos laughed then said, “Don’t worry Yo-yo tell me what you wanted and if it was for you or someone else.

Jihyo smiles as she texts him back the list of gifts (for her members) and items she wanted.

Diabolos was surprised when that list had several of the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai pieces, but Diabolos happily took it in stride.

After that Twice had a major performance in Seoul which Diabolos was going to. He surprised Jihyo when she looked into the crowd and saw someone holding a memorial Ultraman Orb Ring. When she looked down to see who had it she rolled her eyes but smiled brightly.

After the performance, the rest of Twice decided to meet the mysterious “Dio” Jihyo kept texting and mentioning.

So Sana secretly swiped Sana’s phone and told Diabolos to meet Jihyo tomorrow at the address where they’d be having lunch together Tomorrow.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, Diabolos shows up Happily. When he arrives he is mercilessly interrogated by all the members, culminating in them dubbing him an acceptable choice for Jihyo. To cement this both Sana and Momo joke that if it doesn’t work out between Jihyo and him. he should reach out to them. Diabolos politely declines and Jihyo sends him a text to her at her place for dinner after this.

Diabolos was unsure of what to expect when Jihyo invited him to her place. He figured a movie maybe some chatting then he leaves. He opened the door and was surprised to see Jihyo waiting for him in a ravishing red dress with a candlelight dinner. Diabolos smiles and then gestures to the table seat across from her. Diabolos sits across from her. Jihyo’s gaze is intense and sultry. She smiled when he took his seat.

“Wow, you look amazing as always Yo-yo.” Jihyo beams at Diabolos

“You look great as well.”

“I feel underdressed. I thought this would be casual.” Jihyo panics before responding

“Oh is this too much? I’m sorry.”

“No it’s fine I’ll try to be better next time.”

Jihyo smiles and then eases, back into the chair. The two eat, catch up, and exchange pleasantries. The atmosphere of Jihyo’s small apartment soon begins to brim with romantic energy that both parties aren’t prepared for fully. After the meal, Diabolos notices Jihyo’s computer and sees that she was playing LOL earlier. Hoping to ease his racing heart he says to her

“Oh, you play league.”

Jihyo smiles and nods.

“I’m not very good though. I mostly play Jungle mid and top lane.” She replies

“Oh funny I play jungle ADC” Diabolos replies and Jihyo smiles. She moves closer. Her hand lands on Diabolos’s thigh.

“So Dio. It’s me and you alone. Is there anything you want?” Overwhelmed Diabolos sat silently until Jihyo pulled him into a passionate kiss. She hops onto his lap before breaking the kiss. Diabolos is breathless.

“Are you gonna be good for mommy?” Jihyo asks. Diabolos nods dizzy. Jihyo smiles before saying, “I am going to ride you until you can’t form a coherent thought.” As she said it she grinded her ass on Diabolos’s crotch before moaning. Diabolos tries to focus but her kisses overwhelm him. His mind starts to go blank as Jihyo takes off her dress revealing the sexy lingerie underneath her overwhelming sexual energy mixed with his eradicating all thoughts from both of their minds except the singular impulse to breed. Diabolos strips and Jihyo pounces on him. She wraps her delicate arms around the bigger man before whispering in his ear.

“I’m so fucking wet for you,”

Diabolos grunts as tries to find something on her marvelous body to focus on but all he can do is let her do what she wants. She pushes Diabolos onto her couch where their eyes lock and through a lustful fog one message is clear

“We belong together.”

Diabolos aligns his cock with Jihyo’s entrance and slowly eased in. Despite Jihyo’s experience and excitement, the walls challenged Diabolos’s cock with fervor. She wanted to be bred but her body wanted him to earn it.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Diabolos says overwhelmed.

Jihyo moans and roars out then “tame my pussy then mold me in the shape of your cock.” Her words set off the first of multiple cascading triggers in Diabolos’s nervous system. As he inches in to fill her to the brim overtakes him causing him to ram himself the rest of the way. Jihyo’s mind melts in a mix of pleasure and pain as Diabolos claims her as his. Her eyes roll back as he begins to thrust into her.

Jihyo relaxes and her body welcomes him in as he thrusts in and out of her. “Put a baby in me!” Jihyo demands. Diabolos can only grunt as his reptilian impulses brain is doing all the work rutting and fucking this beautiful, sexy, and fertile woman.

“Make me a real mommy!” Jihyo encouraged and Diabolos flipped her onto the couch before lifting her legs.

“Oh, you brute. Good to know our children will be strong,” Jihyo moaned as her body fully submitted to Diabolos.

Her walls opened up to be wetter and more accommodating for him and after a few more thrusts he came violently in her pussy.

Jihyo’s sultry smile was fixed upon Diabolos. “You’re mine now.” She said possessive. Diabolos nodded still transfixed by her. As he slowly pulled out Jihyo’s orgasm hit her violently. She came and squirted all over her apartment’s floor. When she calmed down she gazed upon Diabolos like a proud lioness and said,

“Do you have any more in the tank for Mommy?”

Jihyo watched as Diabolos grew again under her sultry gaze.

“Bedroom now!” she purred

Diabolos tried to resist his impulses but buried himself inside Jihyo. She moaned in pleasure but slapped him.

“No mommy said bedroom now,” Jihyo said but she could not yell loud enough to volume the demands to breed her burning and screaming through Diabolos’s body.

Diabolos grabbed her hips before slamming into her again as both of their minds became lust-addled mush. As Diabolos thrust into her sloshing cunt Jihyo’s bodacious boobs bounced buoyantly hypnotizing him to fill her with more of his seed.

Jihyo moans for Diabolos to breed her and luckily he does. Jihyo moans and cums at the same time Diabolos does before they both crash on her wet couch. Jihyo looks at Diabolos before going to his neck and marking him.

“You’re mine now,” she reiterates shyly

Diabolos looks at her and boldly says, “Are you sure? because I’m crazy!” Jihyo smiled as her eyes glistened teal for a moment before she hugged Diabolos tight.

The next morning Diabolos and Jihyo woke up early they watched the sunrise on Jihyo's balcony.

[reidrum]

hard to love (easy to be loved) | s.r

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pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

a/n: this one is kinda short, but i kinda like it? i wrote that big speech spencer gives first out of self indulgence and the rest came after so i hope it meshed well. i love hearing yalls thoughts so please let me know what you think!!!! ALSO, im taking requests! guidelines are in my pinned, and im adding a smut prompt list if yall wanna choose from that too, or not thats cool too. lastly i just wanna say that if you relate to reader, i love you, you’re not alone, and you are worthy of love and kindness. okay im done yapping now love yall <3

cw: hurt/comfort, fluff, allusions to depression and depressive episode, gn!insecure!reader, spencer is a sweetheart that would rebuild pompeii for you i think

wc: 1.1k

°°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....•

spencer found you on the couch when he got home from the office. he hadn’t heard from you in like, a day, and he just assumed you were busy with work just as he was. but when he walked in his heart clenched at the sight in front of him.

you were curled up on the couch facing away from the door, blankets all but covering your head, tissues scattered everywhere. you had dirty dishes and trash lying around the room, but spencer didn’t even have time to think about the germs when he heard you take a shuddering breath, and he felt his heart drop.

he drops his bag with a thud and hopefully announces his presence. “hi honey, i’m home,” he starts, not wanting to overwhelm you too fast. you don’t respond, just a soft hum that if spencer’s ears weren’t focused on your voice he’d have missed it. he pads over to the edge of the couch and kneels down, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face, “what happened?”

you’re quiet for a few seconds like you’re thinking of a good excuse to tell him, but when you look up into his eyes and all you’re met with is sheer concern, the tears spring right back into you and fall further into your losing battle.

“okay no, hey, it’s alright,” he whispers, keeping his hand steady on you, “what can i do for you right now? did you eat?” you shake your head, “how about you go wash your face really quick and put on different pjs, and i’ll order takeout.”

the tears gather in your eyes and threaten to fall, “okay”. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and helps you sit up on the couch, smoothing your hair further down.

“i’ll be right here when you get back.” he squeezes your hand.

you tiredly swipe at your eyes and trudge to your room to wash your face and get clothes, trying your best to avoid any mirror so as not to accept your current state. walking back out, spencer is exactly where he said he’d be, but the trash and dishes have been picked up, clean blankets adorn the couch, and the tv softly hums with the new girl intro.

he looks at you from the couch, “thai food will be here in 20 minutes”, he moves a little to create the perfect you sized hole between his lap and the blankets, “come sit with me.”

you walk around the couch and spencer snakes his arm around your waist slowly pulling you down so you land perfectly in the crevice he created. he’s quick to drape his arm securely around your body, the other hand finding a home in your hair. he holds you snug to his body, hoping the warmth and love he has for you can radiate between you both.

“i love you.” spencer mumbles into your head.

you take another big breath, ignoring the way you still shudder in the inhale, “i know,” a lingering pause follows. spencer can tell you want to say more and he waits for you to continue, “i’m sorry.”

he pulls back so he can look at your face, “why are you sorry? you didn’t do anything, sweetheart.”

“i know, i just,” you try to push out as your throat threatens to seize up, “something triggered me in the morning, made me spiral really fast.”

“that’s not your fault, honey.”

“it’s not but, i just feel bad. like it happens so frequently at this point i feel like this is my natural state 90% of the time.”

“it’s actually pretty common to have intense feeli-“

“i said sorry because i feel like when i get like this it makes me hard to love.” you interject abruptly.

spencer stops talking. he knew you had a hard past, and he always tells you it’s made you who you are. he always tells you how beautiful you are, how smart you are, how your kindness and empathy is something he just marvels at. but he also knew he can only say so much that you would actually believe. spencer doesn’t mind using every breath he has to remind you.

he held your face with the palm of his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his honeyed eyes, “it is deeply important to me that you know how much i love and care about you. i know it’s hard to block out what other people think. but i would spend the rest of my life and then some showing you how worthy you are of being loved for who you are,” he whispers, “i promise you are not hard to love. i’m so sorry that people have made you feel like that. but i mean it when i say, that loving you is the easiest thing i've ever done.”

that was all you needed to just break in the comfort of his arms. you were trailing snot and tears onto his shirt and the only thing he did was pull you even closer to his chest. his hand ran up and down your back to soothe your spine, and his other hand remained on your hip, providing a comforting and reminding pressure.

“do you really mean that?” you couldn’t help but ask meekly.

not even a second passes, “always. you are my now, my tomorrow, my forever. i will always be here for you, pinky promise.” he holds out his slender pinky finger.

you let out a tearful laugh, “a pinky promise? what has the man of science devolved to.”

“devolved!? i’ll have you know, a pinky promise is actually the most sacred and serious promises of all. it actually dates back to ancient japan when this prostitute had to cu-“

“spence,” you hold out your pinky, “i love you.”

he intertwines with yours and raises your joint hands to kiss his thumb to seal it as you do the same, “i love you.” he leans in to place a longing kiss on your lips before moving to kiss your cheeks, nose, forehead, and then just everywhere until you’re giggling in his lap.

you both turn your attention back to the tv, watching winston and schmidt fight over their names when you blurt out, “okay i’m intrigued. what the fuck does a prostitute have to do with pinky promises.”

he laughs accusingly, “ah i knew curiosity would kill the cat. so there was this prostitute who had to cut their pinky off to show devotion of their love to…”

and you let his knowledge rambles lull you to sleep, the most restful one in days.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[mamawasatesttube]

ok i put a longer post abt tim's Emotional State in drafts for when my brain is less melted but re: tim and going to college im just gonna get a lil silly with it. hear me out.

i have this whole vague story in my mind for tim's college days moonlighting as red robin as he tries and figures out what he wants out of life. (it's a while after rr leaves off and all because he's like. Super Depressed for a hot minute and then has to drag himself through actually bothering to get his GED and applying to college, etc., but eventually lucius is like hey. you're great with gadgets, and you clearly love tinkering. i'd hire you for r&d in a heartbeat but you need at the least a bachelor's of engineering. i know you have a lot of the technical skills, but you need a degree. so tim goes ugh fine i'll get a goddamn engineering degree how hard can it possibly be.)

anyways. i think it's a universal experience that if you go to college and you hang with the STEM crowd, you will unfortunately get to know at least one Fucking Guy. it's like brentwood arc; tim does make friends, but there is just this One Fucking Guy he cannot stand and will never stand. this Fucking Guy is in the common room playing his guitar at midnight. he's drunk and yelling and laughing really loud when people have exams coming up. he's convinced everyone adores him. there's also a detective/supernatural plot going on. the subplot is just that tim hates This Fucking Guy.

at some point, there's a story beat where he as red robin has to rescue That Fucking Guy from a real dicey situation, and That Fucking Guy is really shaken and grateful to him, and he's like okay. maybe. maybe we are making progress. but then the next time he encounters This Fucking Guy as tim drake, the guy is just like. "ohhhh hey drake you missed it last night, it was AWESOME!!! i had to save red robin from a KILLER ROBOT. he's pretty cool though i guess. i bet you wish you could be more like him huh??" and tim is just. I Will Not Grind My Teeth About This. I Will Not. his life is a fucking joke. he dismantles the toaster oven in the common room kitchen to cope. it's definitely to cope and not just so that That Fucking Guy won't be able to heat up his pop tarts in the morning.

at another point, This Fucking Guy looks at street mode, lowkey, unremarkable Normal Car-looking redbird and goes, aw, dude, i thought your dad is loaded?? he only got you a generic-ass sedan?? that sucks lol, if you want we can take my car down to the game instead. and tim is just Say One More Fucking Word About My Baby I Dare You I Fucking Dare You One More Fucking Word.

(also i like to toy with the idea of this being a university in metropolis - he's out of gotham, but not too far. keeps him from getting antsy about what if he's needed because he can get right back over there. and in the meantime, he can hang out with kon and kara a lot, and occasionally enable and be enabled by lois lane and her snooping habits. there's another subplot in which tim and lois get up to shenanigans. at least once.)

it's sort of an introspective thing of him trying to come to terms with the way he no longer wants a fully normal life the way he always used to assume he would - he has the option to walk away from the cape now, like he always thought he would one day, but he just can't give it up anymore. he's fallen into the same black hole he watched dick and bruce dive headlong into. it's also about him finding joy in tinkering and working with his hands and getting to spend more time as tim drake first and foremost. and it's about him venting to kon about That Fucking Guy while they have a lil picnic on the green while kon loses his absolute shit laughing. all against the backdrop of a little mystery or something. <3

OH and also, most importantly. zoanne wilkins is there and laughing at him for assuming college would be easy. and kon gets her into wendy the werewolf stalker. My City Now.

[tan1shere]

Hi! So if you’re comfortable with it i’d love to request Professor!Billie x reader. I love how in “Her Favorite” Billie asks if Reader is okay and if she needs anything. So what if Reader is quiet and shy but is sh-ing maybe Billie sees scars on her arm? Idk just super fluffy and angsty. Again please only write it if you’re comfortable with the request. Have a great day and thank you for your amazing writing 💕

My priority

A/n: yes ofc !! Thank you for checking angel, I'm more than ok with writing this :) I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings - mentions of self harm, cuts ??, and depression, so please don't read if it's triggering in any way ! || Masterlist

Another draining day at this hell hole of a college. You dreaded it each day you just wanted to stay in bed and hide from everyone. You go to your first class of the day, wearing oversized everything as you couldn't care less you just wanted to be comfortable. You take a seat at the back, out of everyone's way. When you accidentally bump into someone. "Sorry." You say timidly. "Watch where you're going." They say bluntly. You sigh hoping this day doesn't drag on too much.

Nearing the end of this class, you couldn't be more happier. Although you loved your professor. She was the kindest person, and honestly made it a lot less horrible. Everyone has already left, like always you are the last to leave. "Bye Ms O'Connell." You give her a gentle smile. She does the same. "Bye sweetheart, have a good day." You blush slightly, she always made you so nervous. Did you have a slight crush on her?

Fast forward a few weeks and you were having the worst day known to man. You had woken up late, burned your tongue. Every little thing seemed to happen, badly. Setting your whole mood off. You had even forgotten your jacket, feeling cold. Bringing your arms around your body ever so slightly everywhere you went. You weren't always such a joyful person, you had severe depression. It always lingered inside you maybe that's why people never wanted to be near you, were you scary to them?

It was that same class again, and you honestly couldn't of been more thankful, knowing she'd cheer you up just by her presence. You go to sit down in your usual spot, writing down something when you feel a presence by you. Ms O'Connell, she was looking at you with the softest smile. But her eyes moved from your face and it faded. Your brows furrow wondering why she was looking at you in such a way. Had you spilt something on yourself- but as she walks to the front and you look. You facepalm.

You idiot, how could you forget your jacket for that reason. She most definitely saw them, and now you truly wanted to hide. Instead of being last you try to be the first one out. "Y/n, hun?" You hear her say making you stop. Her voice was so delicate. Your head turns to look at her. Humming in response. "Could we talk?" You slowly nod. Approaching her slowly, you look into her eyes. "I'm here for you." Is all she says. Your eyes avert from hers, watching as the other students leave. "And you can always-" She begins but you turn back to face her with tears in your eyes.

It truly breaks her heart. She doesn't say a word just brings you into a hug which you tightly reciprocate. Crying softly into the hug. "It's ok, you can talk to me." She soothes your hair, gently kissing the top of it. She knew you needed as much comfort right now. "I feel so alone." You sobbed, honestly quite pathetically but you couldn't care less you just needed this hug desperately. You needed warmth of someone.

"Shhh, it's ok. You're never alone. And if it helps you have me, I promise." Maybe it was childhood trauma but you felt comfort in her, even if she was your professor. She moves you with her going into her tiny office in the room. "We can sit here for awhile, you can rant. Cry more. Or just stay silent whatever you prefer. Just know I'm here for you." You hug her so tightly after she says that.

You finally felt seen.

Im so sorry if this isn't the best :( my brain was lacking more creativity but I hope this is what you were after even a little bit :)!

[mysticheathenn]

What's You're Soul Contract?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about what your soul agreed upon coming to earth. Did you come here to be successful? Break Generational Trauma? Did you come here just for the fun of it? This pick-a-card may help give you more clarity and guidance on why you are here on Earth.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

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NEXT PAC: Patreon Related (I just don't know what as of yet) If you have any suggestions feel free to send them.

Sorry, I have been M.I.A. Depression really is a bitch, but I'm doing better still under the weather but better. I hope everyone is doing well. I missed and love you guys.

Pile l:

What is your Soul Contract? Tarot: 6 of Cups, Ace of Swords, 3 of Wands, 10 of Cups, 10 of Wands, Page of Cups.

Breaking Generational Trauma/Curses. You have a lot of cups and wand energy pile l. This means your pile is all about pent-up fiery emotions that have been denied an avenue to being expressed whether in your lifetime or over the many generations before you. You probably grew up in a household where you are supposed to "stay in a child's place" or "you should be seen not heard." Some of you have to deal with constantly seeing your parents, grandparents, or family in general struggling with money or hating what they do for work but it puts food on the table and clothes on your back but at the end of the day they took out their frustrations on you. I'm hearing "Money is burning a hole in my pocket." Maybe you have one of those parents where you went to your room as soon as they came home because they were always in a bad mood because of how stressed they were or they are penny pinchers like Julius from "Everybody Hates Chris" I heard "That's .49 cents of spilled milk dripping on my table. Somebody is going to drink this milk. Clip Link." They may even hit you for spilling juice even if it were an accident. Either way, you vowed long ago that you were going to break the chains of what your ancestors have passed down. You want to live a life where you can come home to and feel at peace and happy. You want to be that parent that lets your kids feel like they can express themselves while establishing healthy boundaries. Some of you I am even hearing will never stay with someone for the sake of the kids like some of your parents have done. You overall want to live a life where you don't have to apologize, walk on eggshells, or be miserable. Your soul contract is basically to live your life outside the boundaries of what your ancestors have placed on each generation and to pass that same freedom on to those around you or your kids. You are meant to live out loud and maybe even cut off family members if you feel called to do that. I am even hearing that some of you are in the process of re-parenting your parents. Helping or teaching them that the ways of what they knew are wrong and that if they want to remain in your life they need to make changes.

Pile ll:

What is your Soul Contract? Tarot: Page of Pentacles, The World, The Sun, 8 of Pentacles, Queen of Swords

Independence/Financial Abundance. Your soul contract reminds me a bit of pile l but only 1% of it when it deals with breaking trauma/curses surrounding money. You probably grew up if not poor you grew up okay. While you weren't poor your family wasn't rich or even middle class, they were a little above working paycheck to paycheck. For some of you, this has nothing to do with growing up poor but more so with wanting a better life for yourself so you can provide for those around you especially if you are close to family. If not family you may just want Fuck you money to lavishly spend. Some of you want to pay off your parent's mortgage or buy them their dream car. Whatever it is as everyone has their personal reasoning for why they want financial abundance or independence, you are placed here to experience riches and create abundance. I am hearing that some of you want to make a change within the world. You want to grow a business where employees are treated fairly and paid a living wage. This reminds me of the CEO who took a pay cut so he could give all his employees including himself a starting salary of 70k. You want to help out the needy and give back to whatever you can, I'm hearing about finding new solutions to food waste for very few of you. Either way, you are meant to be your own boss. You were never meant to work underneath someone and I feel quite a few of you have been feeling that feeling for quite a while now but don't know how to break the chains, don't have a business idea/where to start, or don't know how to get the funding to start your business idea. Just remember to ask and you shall receive speak to your guides and ask them for help, a sign, or to put someone in your path who can help you out. In the meantime, please be careful with who you share your ideas with. Some of you are too trusting with your friends and family group not knowing they are waiting to see you fail or talk you out of the idea because they want you to remain in the same position as them knowing they could never amount to half your potential. Some of them remind me of the popular TikTok trend from Snowfall "Me. I built this shit. Brick by Brick and I'll be dam if you tear it down because you don't like the way another n*gga talk." Some also just want to latch onto you, remember not everyone is meant to walk the same path. Some people are meant to be left behind or they will keep you in the same place as you are now with wanting handouts, filling you with limiting beliefs, etc.

Pile lll:

What is your Soul Contract? Tarot:10 of Cups/10 of Pentacles, The Wheel, 4 of Cups, The Tower (clarified by the Chariot), The Hermit

Divinity / Spiritual Growth/ Light & Love. You may be seeing the number 1010 everywhere pile lll. You have the 10 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups, and The Wheel is the 10th card in my "The Muse Tarot Deck." The 1010 angel number serves as a guiding light, illuminating your journey in love, money, and spiritual growth. You were placed on this earth to spread light and love, becoming the embodiment of it, and to walk a spiritual path. For some of you this spiritual path may be a religious path, take what resonates and leave what does not. I mostly feel this is a spiritual group because of the symbolism on each card that came out for you. Some of you are leaving your religious background for spirituality because you saw how religion has turned the people around you into the complete opposite of what they teach during Sunday service, some of you are leaving because you felt that the religion doesn't align with you anymore and you feel lost but somehow spirituality has been calling your name and has done some things for you but you feel some type of guilt surrounding it because of your upbringing. For others of you, this may be vice versa where you decide to go back to church, etc. Again take what resonates and leave what does not, either way, you are finding your way back to god (Universe, Allah, Source, etc) and wanting to bring more harmony, love, and community into your life. You probably have been going through some changes recently and for some of you who are atheist or agnostic and experiencing the feeling of being lost, like the way you are living can't just be this, or feeling that there is no way that you are here to just take up space and struggle. You are trying to find more meaning in life because you are on the verge of a mental breakdown or may even have thoughts of suicide because of how alone you have been feeling. Overall you were meant to find yourself. You are meant to come back to yourself through spiritual or religious means. Finding a community that shows you that there is light and love in this world and you aren't alone nor placed here as a waste of space or to struggle. I heard God loves the little children bible school song and this little light of mine. I feel those two songs are to let you know that within the darkness there is always a bit of light at the end of the tunnel you just can't see it because you're honed into the darkness not looking for the light. Also that you are loved whether you feel that way or not. Your community is out there, don't give up.

Pile lV:

What is your Soul Contract? Tarot: Queen of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, Knight of Cups, 4 of Swords, 4 of Cups, 10 of Wands (reversed)

Love/Beauty/Life. You may be seeing 44 or 444 everywhere pile lV. That is for just a few of you not everyone but pile lV your soul contract, the reason you are here is to experience all of life's beauty, glory, and love. Your pile somewhat reminds me of pile lll but only 1% of it is about finding yourself, but for a few of you the whole reading might resonate also. Anyway, you are here to experience being human. I mean after all, you are a spiritual being having a human experience. Some of you probably wonder why you go through tough times or maybe get pissed off at even small inconveniences and I'm here to let you know it's all a part of your process, mission, and experience. You are meant to see life's beauty, travel, fall in love, get your heart broken, make life-long friends, have your first fight, lose all of your money, win the lottery.... all of it...do you hear me? You are meant to experience the good with the bad. The small details of life like Starbucks's pumpkin spice lattes to the smell of books in the library or book store. You signed up to also find yourself amongst experiencing all the large and small things in life. To live your life unapologetically and to be free from what society has placed on what it is to being a human, an adult, etc. If you haven't seen the movie Soul by Pixar/Disney I highly recommend it as this is literally your pile. You were meant to say what goes for your life and what does not because everything is temporary. You know the question "If you were on your deathbed what would your regrets be? What would you have wished you would have done more of? What would you have done less of? Those questions that people love to ask old people.....that is your soul contract. To be asked on your death bed some of those questions and being able to say you lived life exactly how you wanted to live it: Beautifully, authentically, boldly, and filled with love and freedom surrounded by those you love and who deeply love and express their love for you. While you are meant to experience some struggle as it is a part of the human experience you are not meant to live one that is traditional, rigid, or stale. Go bungee jumping, get a tattoo sleeve (or fake one), take risks and ask out the guy first, and write that book that has been on your mind even if you don't plan on sharing it. Overall, do you boo, do you. Live life with no regrets. Live life as if Wes Anderson was the director. If you were a book genre it would be coming of age.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[euniveve]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤" - zhongli

pairings: zhongli x gn!reader tags: HURT/COMFORT (like major major comfort), glasses wearing!reader, insecure!reader, reader has self-worth issues, fluffy fluff fluff, reader is implied to have depression w.c: 1480 a.n: ngl i wrote this one shot a while ago, it helped me back then, hopefully it'll help some of you guys as well, i think this is beta read (again i wrote this a while back, i forgot) remember that you are loved my dears <3

Another tear hits the cold hardwood floor of your apartment; your glasses have long been housing the pools of your sadness before you finally take them off to bury your face into your knees, choked sobs wrangle out of your throat as your chest burns from the hurt.

What was it again that triggered this? You couldn’t remember… Crying sure does affect you; it drives your mind deeper into its sadness, an inescapable hole of helplessness with darkness surrounding you, not an oil lamp in sight.

A series of knocks fell upon your door– making you jolt in your uncomfortable position, your heart beating out of your chest as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. You don’t want to meet people now, you don’t want to pretend to be fine.

For once, saving face stood second before your needs.

“Qin ai de?” the familiar warm baritone from the other side of the door said, “It’s me, are you alright?”

You open your lips, tears still freely flowing down your cheeks but you stop yourself– deciding to close them again. Maybe anyone is fine, anyone else. But not Zhongli. You cleared your mucus-filled throat, trying to force a clear stable voice, gulping your saliva thickly before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in preparation.

With a shaky breath out you fake a smile, trying your best to sound how you normally do. “Y-yeah! I just wanna be in silence and think; don’t worry about me!”

A few seconds of silence pass by and you hold your breath, waiting for the sound of his feet walking away to grace your ears but you hear none. Instead, what little light the gaps at the bottom of the door provided was blocked before Zhongli spoke again.

“Forgive me, my dear, for I have to do this.”

You couldn’t even take a second to process the words he uttered before the door flew open, revealing the silhouette of your very handsome, very tall former-archon-boyfriend. Almost out of instinct– you cover your face, your trembling hand making out a very poor mask as you try your best to get away from his sight.

“Love, my dear heart,” he cooed, his footsteps dawning closer and closer before it stopped in front of you. The melodious rustle of his fabric as he bends down to meet your face, his amber eyes unmistakable in their sadness as his brows furrow in slight frustration at the sight of your visibly distraught figure. 

Zhongli reaches out; out of instinct, it seems, to comfort you, to hold you at least, his long slender finger wanting to touch your hand to move them yet you flinch when his hand hovers; afraid and unsure.

“My love?”

“Pl-please go away..” you whisper meekly, “I- I don’t want to– I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“,,,”

You quickly and harshly wipe the tears off your face, trying your best to give him a smile while your hand is still covering your puffy eyes. “I’m okay! I think…”

“But you are not,” he said matter-of-factly, his brow furrowed in confusion before his hand finally reached yours, warmth blooming on your skin with his comforting touch. “You are not okay.”

“I will be,” you muttered, “Please? I’m a mess now– I–”

Your hand was moved away, and even with your lids covering your eyes, you can imagine those brilliant eyes; so full of warmth and love you almost want to run away and hide again.

“My love please look at me.”

His voice is but a whisper and there’s care lacing between those strings of sound. Archons do you even deserve this? You are certain that you don’t but it feels so right. 

It feels like you aren’t worthless.

It feels like you matter.

You finally open your eyes, and another waterfall of tears threatens to escape but you can see his gentle smile, the softness of his lips, the curvature of his cheeks; whatever is happening now, it feels like love.

Are you worthy of love?

“You are scared,” you hear him say softly, “you are scared and that is okay, I’m here for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself whispering.

“What for?”

‘Everything.’ you wanted to say, ‘for being me, for stealing you away from someone better, for being selfish.’

Ah– there it is.

“For being selfish,” you repeat your mind, your eyes shifting to the wooden floor, his gaze tho comforting, feels so real. Like he could see through your walls; like he could tear them down with the slightest of touch. “For being selfish enough to get your love, to be so imperfect yet accepting of it– I’m so sorry.”

You wince at yourself. That sounds more pathetic than you intended. Gods; why does it have to be him? You wouldn’t mind if it's anyone else. Anyone else can call you self-absorbed or pitiable or even entitled. 

But please, archons please, let it not be him. 

“I’m not worthy of it,” you end your sentence with a defeated whisper, “I know I'm not worthy of it; I keep pushing you away, I’m difficult, I’m a horrible person.”

You bit your lip, you can hear him breathing steadily, his hand still grasping yours with that signature comfort, that loving warmth. It feels so good that you want to run away; so good that it feels like knives as the back of your mind keeps shouting at your words. 

Ugly, untrue, you know this, but when those words are repeated thousands – no – millions of times it starts to sound honestly beneath useless praises.

“I’m irreparably broken.”

Silence is between the two of you and it feels deafening. You are ready for this, for him to leave, and how could you not? You have to imagine it time and time again, with every step apart from him, every second without his presence, you imagine it over and over and over again; hoping, praying, that when it eventually happens, it would hurt even less. 

Because you are ready.

“I used to forge weapons as an archon,” Zhongli whispered, his thumb starting to trace the back of your hand. Slowly but surely, you feel his body getting closer to you, that golden touch of his cupping your cheek, those citrine gazes that inspect your very being and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

Archons, you are horrible.

“I forge new weapons for my adepti. Ones made of jade, of black steel, of unbreakable stone, cor lapises, agates, and carnelians.” he took a deep breath, the chilly autumn air filling his lungs before he continued. “But I always prefer to reforge my old weapons.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, that signature rumbling laughter that makes you shiver, that fills you with ease and serenity; it has you longing for a home only he can make, only he can fulfil. “Yes, I prefer my old weapons; one that has my hand moulded on its handle, one that has been broken time and time again.” 

You feel his fingers on your cheek, your cold, tearstained cheek– you want to flinch away but you can’t. Zhongli is your home, you couldn’t hide away any longer.

“So my love, if you are broken then allow me to reforge you.” His voice, archons, his voice resonates deep within your heart, filling its cracks and smoothing its surface. His and completely his, he once noted and each and every time he breathes he reminds you of it. “if you prefer for your pieces to bask in the sun then allow me to carry you, every chuck and dust.”

“I’ll cut you,” you whisper, trying desperately to deny him of the pain you know you would bring. “I'll hurt you; I have jagged edges and–”

“Then do it.”

His arm wraps around you, his hand tugging your head underneath his chin. He places a kiss on the top of your head, feeling the way your body fits with his; longing for the sound of your laughter and accompanying smile.

But Morax knows better; perhaps that person is gone, perhaps they are buried underneath the rubble. And yet he smiled to himself, gripping you tighter, not letting you go. He is pained, it is true. But a god can afford pain. 

Let him afford the pain, as long as you wouldn’t have to feel it.

“I’ll hold you until you feel full, I’ll love you until the last stone crumbles, I’ll be by your side until your soul turns to dust.”

He let go of a breath. It sounds heavy; and perhaps for Morax, it is. His lover it seems has been at war. What sort of warrior god lets their spouse fight a battle all alone?

“I love you,” he whispered, “and that’s nothing your thoughts can change no matter how hard they try.”

[tsukasalvr]

Idk if your requests are open or not AAHH! But if they are:

(Possible TW in my request for mentions of depression, anxiety, commiting di3 joke)

Could you do a reader with bad depression and anixety. And maybe one day reader makes a joke about 0ffing themself and then they dont show up to school for a few days

Characters I would prefer(from TBHK): Kou, Teru, Hanako, Akane(boy)

You can add more if you like! :)

Im sorry its not very specific, this is my first time requesting something

Also sorry i know topics like these are difficult for some people <3

depressed!reader who makes su*cidal jokes

Anime/fandom: Tbhk

Characters: Kou Minamoto, Teru Minamoto, Hanako, Akane Aoi

Warnings: I don’t proofread, depressed reader, mention of suicide

A/n: just got broken up w by my pookie wookie☹️💔

Tbhk masterlist | Main masterlist

Kou Minamoto

Is immediately put off by what you’re saying and is immediately concerned, and gets even more concerned once you get together and just stares nervously at you while stuttering, not knowing what to say

“That’s so embarrassing, if that were me I would kill myself no doubt! Being so stupid like that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself!” You casually said while looking at a post on your phone.

“O-oh… umm…” Kou is at a loss for words sometimes and tries to brush it off by moving onto something happier to distract you from thoughts like those

When you make a joke that’s one day too far he genuinely seems so much more concerned and ask if you’re okay. He gets so worried about you that it’s best not to make jokes like that near him.

If you don’t show up the next day, he gets worried and is immediately trying to leave school early even though he knows Teru will berate him later for it, he needs to see you’re okay and when he arrives to your house and sees you are, he’s very serious about not making jokes like those again and is invites you to his house more often to distract yourself and is willing to help you get help

Teru Minamoto

Gives you a nervous smile when you joke about suicide and even when you you’re dating he still gives you an obvious fake smile to not hurt your feelings. He knows that outright saying that if you need someone talk to talk to can be annoying sometimes so he’ll try to subtly let you know he’s there

Whether it’s from talking about a topic of a documentary of a tragic life of some celebrity and all they needed help to having Kou telk you that you’re part of the family and that you can tell them anything when you’re over at their house

“I can’t stop messing this up! God I really should’ve taken those pills when I had the chance, what the hell!” You said angrily at the fact you couldn’t get the string through the small hole in the needle.

Teru could only smile at you, he never says anything to your ‘jokes’, but then he stops and just goes to frowning hoping that you’re not being serious

When you don’t show up the next day, he’s not super worried and just assumes you’re late but sends you messages. But after a few hours the messages become more frequent and by the end of the school day he’s running to your house scared. When he sees you’re alright, he’s pissed and says enough is enough and he’s not taking anymore jokes and is instead going to help you

Hanako

He might laugh at your jokes, but it’s only so he doesn’t worry you. He’s not an unfamiliar when it comes to stuff like this and he knows you might now want to talk about it right away so he’s fine with trying to take it slow

On the inside though, his ghostly heart is scared that you’re it joking and you’re actually being serious. He can’t bear the thought of you dying—and especially dying this way so he keeps a close eye on you and has Kou and Yashiro even make sure that you’re doing okay

“God, I’m so stupid and useless” you say with a laugh as you look at your test result and shove the paper back in your bag

Hanako stares at you, and lets out a laugh that’s believe enough. He’s conflicted on what he should do, should he ask how you’re doing? What if you lie to him? Would you even want to talk to him?

It seems as if his worries have come true when you didn’t show up to school the next day and asks if Yashiro or Kou have seen you at all and to message you on those weird electronic things. Yashiro only agrees to go to your house when Hanako asked because she too was worried about you. Hanako waits impatiently the next day and sees you and you tell him you were just feeling sick. If he could, then Hanako would definitely cry and basically forces you to promise to tell him if anything is wrong with a scared and worried expression on his face

Akane Aoi

You’re the most precious person in his life so he takes everything very serious when it comes to you. A paper cut? He’s getting ready to call an ambulance for you and is frantically asking you if you’re okay.

So joking about such topics near him immediately alarms him and hea on full protective mode with asking if you’re joking or not. He takes everything you say seriously, he cares about you a lot so to see you laugh about it, hurts him a little

“What if I jump out this window right now? I really do want to do this test!” You whined and looked over at the window that was right next to where you were sitting.

Akane had a prominent frown on his face, he knew you weren’t exactly mentally okay and you’re jokes were becoming more and more frequent

He’s on full panic mode when you don’t show up to school the next day and the worst possible outcomes are immediately coming to mind. He hopes he’s wrong and is blowing up your phone and is willing to mess up his perfect attendance streak for you, he’ll fix it later. But when he sees you overslept and your phone died because wig wasn’t charged, he’s disappointed. He knew it was getting worse if you dying was what came to mind when you didn’t show up so he pledges to help you