#I CRIED AND JUST YEARNED BC WHY I WANT THIS I WANT THIS IS THIS IS IT

[mokacheer]

[tinyfantasminha]

Thoughts on Jack's dream(MASSIVE main story spoilers ahead)

JACKS DREAM got me by the thROAT bc the more I analyze it the more angsty it feels and I alreadfy sobbed n cried and I must SCREAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM He's dreaming of the magift tournament but basically if..... if Leona's plan never took place....... If Leona actually WERE the hero Jack has idolized...... 😭

First I gotta take note dosodkgkfdgjdfkghfdjk hOW JACK YEARNS FOR HIS SENPAI'S PRAISE AND AFFECTION 🥺🥺truly the epitome of loyal, puppy-like behavior..... It doesn't take much for him to be happy… He yearns for the respect and acknowledgement of those he admires. He craves respect and recognition, but not only that—he genuinely wants to see those he admires thrive.

Seems to me that what Jack longs for most is a sense of belonging within a pack. He’s not just devoted to those he holds in high regard; he also desires to be cared for in return (This becomes even more apparent when he asks Ruggie to act as a mentor or older-brother figure in his dorm uniform vignette.) Jack's actions reflect his innate wolf nature—a being built for connection, loyalty, and mutual protection. No matter how much he tells himself or others how he prefers to handle things on his own… We can clearly see that Jack is happier when he’s part of a team, fighting alongside companions who’ve got his back. It’s the dynamic balance of trust: to protect and be protected, to rely on others and let them rely on him in return. It deeply resonates with the essence of wolves.

We often hear the phrase “lone wolf,” an expression of grudging admiration. A lone wolf is often viewed as a rugged individualist, uncompromising and independent, driven to forge his own path, unfettered by the sentimental need for companionship. In reality, few people would ever want to live this way—and, as it turns out, few wolves would either. Wolves, males and females alike, may go through periods alone, but they’re not interested in lives of solitude. A lone wolf is a wolf that is searching, and what it seeks is another wolf. Everything in a wolf’s nature tells it to belong to something greater than itself: a pack. Like us, wolves form friendships and maintain lifelong bonds. They succeed by cooperating, and they struggle when they’re alone. Like us, wolves need one another. (source)

Which is why the factual reality cuts so deeply.

After Ortho wakes Jack up (in oUTER SPACE DKJGDSDKFJGKJS that was so adventitious but so cool.....) and Jack falls down like a meteorite (ALSO SUPER COOL BUT WTF.....) Fake!Leona and Fake!Ruggie rush to his side, Leona softly reassures him, saying it’s a relief he’s uninjured and advising him not to be so reckless while Ruggie says ''You're a promising rookie. Our treasure.'' (I started crying here.)

Jack breaks into a bitter, despairing laugh as the truth crashes down on him. The sincerity and warmth his “upperclassmen” showed in that moment? It wasn’t real. It never actually happened. Jack recounts his excitement when he first joined Savanaclaw, eager to fight alongside the dormmates he admired so much. He talks about how he had watched Leona’s play three years ago—over and over again, captivated by it. He reveals the painful truth of discovering their wicked plan, the frustration of being unable to snap them out of it, and the overwhelming helplessness that consumed him.

I gotta say, I'm SO HAPPY that Jack's feelings on the events of book 2 were finally properly addressed now (cause let's be real, book 2 uhh... did kinda a shitty job at this 💀 Neither the narrative nor the fandom really took the time to explore the emotional impact it had on him, which is such a disservice to his character.)

Think about it from Jack’s perspective. He was obsessed with Leona's play 3 years ago, watching it over and over again. In his eyes, Leona was a hero, someone worth idolizing to the point of projecting an idealized image of him: an earnest, hardworking, honorable leader. When Jack finally had the chance to join Savanaclaw and be part of the dorm he had admired so deeply, what was his reality? Ostracization, bullying and even physical violence from some of his dorm mates (as shown in Leona's dorm uniform vignette) And worst of all? Jack was met with his idol’s true, treacherous side—dirty tactics, underhanded schemes, and a willingness to harm others to achieve his goals. When Jack tried to confront them about it, he wasn’t met with understanding or respect. Instead, he was called a “filthy traitor” and a “spoiled brat”—by the very person he admired most. It’s a complete dismantling of everything Jack believed in, everything he worked for.

It's a shame the game and manga did not give enough weight to Jack’s feelings, (the novel seems to do a better job at it though) but now it’s clear just how much this hurt him. It wasn’t just a setback; it was a deep, personal betrayal that shook him to his core.

He’s only a first-year. Beneath his gruff demeanor and physical strength, Jack is still a boy—pure-hearted, earnest, and full of hope. All he wanted was to stand beside those he respected most but what he got instead was disappointment, betrayal, and rejection. To idolize someone so deeply, only to have that image crushed in the most personal, gut-wrenching way........ Savanaclaw doesn't deserve him 💔

.

,,,,okay forgive me to break the essay to talk about this but I'm going insane over the fact fake Ruggie ominously coos, ''Hey puppy-chan you're a good boy so come here.....'' UGHGHHHDSHNGDSHNDGSHHHnnnnhhHHHH HE IS BASICALLY SAVANACLAW'S UNOFFICIAL MASCOT,,,,,,, their loyal little puppy 🥺🥺🥺😭😭

fake ruggie and fake leona try to lure him in to sleep again, but Jack says he has no intention of fighting alongside fakes and defeats them 😌

And we get this utterly precious moment where Jack praises Yuu and Grim for having guts and persevering through everything and he PETS GRIM'S HEAD............ HE DIDN'T NEED TO COMFORT THEM BUT AWWAAHBBBAYYAWYWYHAWWABYWAWAYAA

I can't wait to see what role he'll play in Leona's dream 😌 Jack’s arc feels like it’s finally getting the weight it deserves… 🙏🙏🙏

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, reader feeling her heart hurt, adeline being funny and shipping reader and neteyam, symptoms of PTSD (like a nightmare), sexual tension, confessions of love, angry neteyam, confused neteyam, yearning, crying, fluff, sexual content, neteyam loving reader's breasts, neteyam using his fangs on reader's body, p in v, territorial neteyam, needy and clingy neteyam, slight breeding kink, creampie

I almost cried writing this chapter and istg my pussy clenched hard while I was writing the smut part so… have a good read, I guess lol ps: I know I said I was gonna have a break from uploading my long fics (and I am!) but there was an itch in my hand to finish this story and I gave in and scratched it lol I kinda knew I eventually would. But I'm only gonna update the other fics next year. This one was an exception bc there was only one chapter left (this one lol)

Not proofread. I woke up in the middle of the night to write this, it's already morning outside and I'm sleepy and sick :(

Part 7: All I want is you

𓇼

It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

this is me trying (Taylor Swift)

𓇼

In the morning, you woke up and realized you were no longer sitting on the floor, resting your back against the wall of Kiri's marui, but rather laying in your mat. You had a sharp headache but you didn't really know why. Maybe lack of enough sleep, maybe tension… Your eyes searched around for Neteyam but he was no longer there. You knew instantly that Neteyam had been the one to carry you to your mat. He was the only one awake other than you when you two were talking while it was eclipse and you knew it wasn't his nature to leave a girl sleeping while sitting down on the floor in a weird position and go home. No, he was too much of a gentleman for that.

The realization that you were about to go back to the lab in a few days and leave Neteyam behind again hit you like a train. The thought of being without him and having no guarantee that he wasn't gonna find a mate while you were gone and when you'd come back and see him again, he'd be happy with a beautiful na'vi girl by his side - perhaps even carrying his baby in her womb - broke you in a billion little pieces.

Your heart started to beat fast in your chest, like it was gonna escape from inside your body and come out through your throat. But there was also a big lump in your throat. Anxiety stinged your whole body like sharp, thin needles. 

You didn't want to lose Neteyam. Just imagining having to stare at a wall in your room at night, to see his sweet face in the crushing darkness and feel the tears rolling down your face, reminding you that you would never be able to hold him again, to feel his huge but gentle hands on your skin, to smell his comforting scent… and worse: to know he would be in some other girl's arms every night, letting her kiss him, having… God, having sex with her…

No. You couldn't let him go. It would rip your heart apart.

And if Neteyam didn't go for Munì like you thought he did, that meant that he didn't stop loving you… right? That's what you were desperately hoping for. You were almost sure you had seen him get slightly happy when you acted like an idiot and let him see how jealous you were of Munì last night. Maybe that meant he still felt something for you.

If you were right about Neteyam's feelings, you didn't quite know why he loved the mess of a girl that you were but… somehow he did, and he was sad because of you, because you refused to be his mate when that's all you truly wanted, in the first place. You had let fear hold you back once again. But not this time. You had to be brave. You had to at least try.

Putting the sheet that was once over you to the side, you uncovered your body and, in a rapid motion, you got up from your mat and got to your feet, feeling the slight coldness on the floor of the marui. Your feet walked slowly but surely among your two best human friends, trying hard not to step on or kick one of the girls as they were sleeping right next to your mat. 

You got startled by Adeline's voice echoing in the morning air as she whispered energetically to you.

"(y/n), where are you going?" Her voice was hoarse and slightly funny, because of slumber.

"I thought you were sleeping!" You whispered back as you looked at her sleepy and moody face while she laid down in her mat

"I was but I felt the need to pee and woke up. Answer my question, please!" She demanded

Your heart started beating fast and you spoke "I'm gonna try and make things right with Neteyam."

"Thank God." She dramatically grunted "I knew you liked him all along, I just wouldn't try and force you to mate with the guy, of course. But damn, I've known you since we were kids and I know when you're in love. I wanted to slap you when I saw you looking gloomy and I would ask you what was wrong and you would say that it was nothing but I just knew you were missing him and regretting refusing to be his mate. And Neteyam brought you back to your mat in his freaking arms! You can't let the guy go, you idiot! He loves you! Can't you see it? You both love each other! What was stopping you before from saying “Hey, I know I'm a bit crazy but I wanna be your mate!”?” She sighed, like she was tired of that whole situation

“How do you know Neteyam carried me back to my mat?” Surprise was all over your face

“I woke up at eclipse with your chatter, mamas.” She said nonchalantly 

“Oh…” You awkwardly spoke “So, you heard everything?” You cringed

“I heard a lot of it. Enough to know Neteyam is worth it. Now do what you gotta do. I gotta go relieve myself.” She demanded like a mother would

Your laughter echoed around. Adeline didn't realize how funny she was. You loved her. So, so much. That bitch was everything to you.

In only seconds you found yourself rushing out of the marui's door and your feet walking quickly through the warm Metkayina sand.

After a good while looking around and only seeing turquoise skinned tall Metkayina people, you finally found Neteyam. The sight of his broad, striped back did things to you. It made you remember how insanely good it felt when he was inside of you that rainy night on his hammock.

"Neteyam!" You yelled, sounding way more desperate than you had wanted to, and Neteyam rapidly turned around looked at you, his face covered with surprise

"I'm sorry! I do wanna be with you!" You spoke, breath a bit labored as you felt nervous and insecure about his reaction. The next thing you saw, you were breaking down in tears. 

"Why did you refuse me, then?" Neteyam asked,  slightly angry and utterly confused 

He did not understand why you had put you both through all that pain if you did love him too.

"I guess I was just afraid of finally having something beautiful in my life again, to feel safe again and then lose it. I couldn't bear to lose you. The truth is, I've had a crush on you since we first met too and I think I started to have deeper feelings for you at the party. Maybe we fell for each other at the same time" you chuckled wearily between tears, thinking that if it truly happened, it was beautiful and seemed like something out of a romantic movie

“Were you afraid that I was gonna leave you?” Neteyam asked, furrowing his hairless eyebrows 

“Yes…” You shamefully confirmed.

It seemed like you only ever thought the worst of Neteyam, even though he was known to be a good man and only proved you again and again how much he cared about you.

"Why would I ever leave you if I love you? It's as simple as that, tawtute." Neteyam stated

An amazed smile was born amidst your tears and your heart sped up as your brain processed those words.

"Are you saying you… love me?" It still seemed too good to be true.

"I'm saying I love you more than you will ever know, syulang." Neteyam walked closer to you and tried to touch your hand

You backed away slightly and he felt frustrated. Even as you declared your love for him you were still so guarded. Neteyam let out an impatient breath out of his feline nostrils.

“Tawtute, please, be my mate.” He asked you once again, his heart open to you once again.

“But what about tsaheylu? You can’t make it with me! What if you one day realize you regret missing out on this experience? It’s such an important thing to your people…” You let out a choked sob as you pronounced those words that felt like a stab in the heart

“Not again with the excuses…” Neteyam thought

“Listen” Neteyam asked for your attention “I do not care if you don’t have tendrils and we can’t make tsaheylu. What’s even the point of tsaheylu if I can’t make it with the girl I love? Tsaheylu is about sharing your affection, your devotion, your need with your mate and I don’t need or want anyone else but you, tawtute.”

You kept sobbing and just couldn't seem to stop.

Neteyam grabbed you and held you inside his strong, long arms, one of his hands on the back of your head, pressing it against his body and the other on your shoulder. His warm embrace felt reassuring.

"It's okay, oeyä tawtute. You are safe with me."

After a while holding you like that, he gently pushed you away from him and held your chin up so you could look at his face.

"I won't ever leave you. I promise you, with the Great Mother as my witness, I will never ever let you go. I'm yours forever. I have been yours for so long…" He gave you a calm smile and wiped your tears away

Your gleaming eyes gazed up at his face. He was so beautiful, his dark blue stripes forming intricate pattern on his forehead, a pattern unique to his body. His bioluminescent freckles adorned his big face and shone slightly even in the light of day. You were so damn lucky to have such a beautiful man be so deeply in love with you.

“So, what's it gonna be?” Neteyam's big thumb caressed your reddened face as his lips were curled in a gentle smile, showing no teeth “Can I finally get an “yes” from your beautiful lips?”

You chuckled and smiled big.

“Yes.” Neteyam's heart swelled with affection and relief “Yes, I'm gonna be your mate, Neteyam.”

“Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä tawtute.” (I love you, my human) Neteyam grabbed your face that was tiny inside his two big hands and kissed you eagerly, his lips pressing against yours like he had been needing that for so long.

Neteyam had been dreaming awake every night about how it would feel if he ever got to kiss your small mouth again. His tongue touched the slit of your mouth, deliciously warm and wet and you parted your lips so he could explore the insides of your mouth. Neteyam's large tongue licked your tongue and you moaned in delight at the sensation. You had missed his kisses so damn much… Neteyam tasted your mouth like you were the sweetest berry juice in the whole Universe.

“I missed your lips and your tongue, syulang. I was craving you.”  Neteyam said and softly placed a last peck in your lips 

“I missed you too. A lot.” You smiled at him, still tasting him on your tongue "I love you too." Neteyam smiled at you when hearing those words he was dying to hear for so long.

“Come, have lunch with me, oeyä hì'i muntxate.” (my small mate)

You agreed and Neteyam took your hand inside his much bigger one, taking you to the place where the na'vi were handling food to each other.

Many curious blue eyes looked at the both of you as Neteyam possessively held you by your waist and talked to you gently.

“I'm gonna get some fish and herbs for us, okay?” He smiled happily at you, like he either didn't notice or didn't care about how all the Metkayina at that part of the reef seemed to be watching yours and Neteyam's every move.

Quickly he grabbed the fish and took you to some rocks away from everyone else, what made you let out a relieved silent breath.

You two ate your fish, that had been prepared on a bonfire - it tasted delicious, by the way. Slightly spicy but also with fresh notes of something that reminded you of peppermint. Alien food was better than you had ever anticipated while you prepared on Earth to travel to Pandora.

"By the way, I'm sorry about your arm. I bet it hurt a lot…" You brought it up, after swallowing a mouthful of fish

"Not that much. I'm strong." He played around but Neteyam truly wanted you to see him as a strong na'vi male. He knew it was boyish but he did it anyway.

He won a quick joyful chuckle from you.

"I was gonna tell you that yesterday but I guess I got too nervous and then too emotional and I ended up forgetting to. I'm sorry, I think I tend to seem self-centered sometimes…" You spoke

"Don't worry about it. You do seem aloof and a little self-centered" You scoffed in a joking manner at his bluntness but you actually said “Ouch!” on the inside.

Damn, Neteyam truly knew how to humble someone...

“But I know that's not who you really are. People just have to take enough time to get to know you and they'll see what I see." 

"And what do you see?" Your eyes shone with wonder and your voice was playful 

"I see a smart, strong, sensitive and amazingly beautiful girl."

Your cheeks turned red. You weren't expecting so much praise.

“Ok, stop… I'm not all that.” You awkwardly stated, avoiding his gaze

“Of course you are. I don't know why you can't see it, tawtute.”

Maybe because you hadn't heard that a lot throughout your life…

To be fair, you had been called beautiful and smart many times but not the other two. Kate and Adeline would tell you that you were strong when you needed to hear it but you always wondered if they perhaps just said that because they were your closest, best friends and they only wanted to make you feel better.

𓇼

After lunch, Neteyam sneaked out with you and took you to a private place on the beach where his hammock was hanging, somewhere more secluded, where the both of you could be alone. You knew just what he wanted and you could not lie and say that you were not craving the exact same thing.

Neteyam took you in his arms, winning a squeaky laugh from you as he lift you off your feet. 

Neteyam sat you on his big hammock, your legs hanging in the air and not touching the clear sand. He knelt in front of you and before you knew it, he was kissing you. Neteyam eagerly took your lower lip between his soft, full lips, suckling on it ever so slightly and then pressing his mouth against yours. Neteyam's huge blue hands cupped both your breasts over your white cropped top and you whimpered in pleasure.

"Oeyä tawtute…" he cried out "Let me see these titties" his mouth hanged slightly open with anticipation and desire

Once you let him take your bra off, Neteyam groaned in an animalistic, primal way.

"These perfect soft titties are mine now, oeyä muntxate. Only mine."

"Yours, Neteyam." You breathed, so taken by him and the moment. Your panties were slick with your juices, so much he turned you on.

Neteyam laid you down gently but eagerly on his hammock. He wasted no time and quickly brought his lips to your breasts. He had been dreaming of that ever since the first time he saw your breasts jiggle under your shirt when you were walking fast, troubled with your scientist work. Your boobs were just so different from the na'vi females ones and it made Neteyam daydream about how it would feel to have your small buds inside his mouth.

Neteyam sucked on your nipples like he was hungry and desperate to taste your skin. He licked your sensitive buds swiftly, leaving them hard and wet with his saliva. All you could do was look down at his mesmerizing blue face, staring at his bioluminescent little freckles and moan loud. You started to worry if people could hear but you decided it was not important if they did or not and you just did not care. That intimate, raw moment you were having with your Neteyam was much more important than anything else in the Universe.

He started using his fangs to tease your breasts slowly and you whimpered at the sting but also enjoyed the bittersweet pleasure it gave you. 

“If you want me to stop, just say it, oeyä tawtute.”

“No. Keep doing it, please” You asked

Neteyam bit your right breast harder this time and you moaned loud again. The acute feeling of his sharp fangs harassing your sensitive skin made you feel an incredible sensation that lied somewhere between discomfort and delight but that ended up just being incredibly addictive. Your folds were even more soaked by now.

“Neteyam, please, fuck me, baby” you begged “I need you.”

“Fuck, muntxate, you're so needy for me. It's so hot, yawne…” Neteyam's heavy breath collided with your skin, sending shivers all over your body

Neteyam undressed you quickly and took his loincloth off just as rapidly, his cock hard and proud, slightly curved to the side.

Neteyam took his cock in his hand and rubbed his swollen tip on your glistening clit, making your body tremble.

“Neteyam… please.” You protested

“Say you want it.” He looked into your eyes, his big golden irises shining with the sight of you in front of him, his mouth in a teasing smirk. His accent drove you insane.

“Please, fuck me…” Your face showed him how desperate you were to feel him

“Do you want me to fill you up with my cock, tawtute?” He dig for more

“Yes, Neteyam, I need your big cock inside of my pussy, please, please…” It's like you couldn't take it anymore. Your cunt felt so empty without him.

After hearing those enticing words, Neteyam swiftly placed his large blue cock at your soaked entrance and pushed it all in at once, making you moan loudly in sheer, raw pleasure. 

"Eywa, how I missed this pussy! Your ekxìn pussy feels so fucking good, my little tanhì." (star) Neteyam murmured as he thrusted hungrily into you, his big, girthy cock stretching your insides and filling you up completely.

Neteyam's feelings for you were just so strong that he felt like no words would ever be enough to express his emotions so, he was trying to show you how he felt about you by loving your body instead, pouring out all his yearning for you through his kisses, his desperate caresses, his thrusts…

"Tawtute" Neteyam cried out as he thrusted roughly into you "Oeyä muntxate." (my mate) "Mine. All mine, yawntu…" (loved one) He whimpered in your ear, melancholic and driven wild by his desire and ardent affection for you "Nga yawne lu oer." (I love you) "So, so much."

Neteyam's breath was heavy and irregular as he pounded himself into you as hard as he could. He needed you so much, he felt like he would die if he could not have all of you, if he could not claim you once and for all. It was so good that he didn't last long and came inside of you, his thick warm seed shooting strongly towards your womb. He hoped to breed you but he didn't know you were taking birth control pills. Neteyam's load of cum was so big that it leaked out of your cunt even as he was still inside of you. That was so dirty and sexy that your pussy clenched around his cock as you felt his warm liquid leaking out of your stretched entrance.

After cuddling for a while, when you were looking to find your bra that Neteyam had thrown somewhere in the sand, he looked at your breasts, the two of them full of his bite marks and a big beautiful smile adorned his full lips, followed by a joyful chuckle.

“I marked you well, syulang. Now everybody can see that you're mine. Oeyä muntxate. Mine forever.” He leaned in for a kiss, pressing his soft lips on yours, so needy. Neteyam tasted so sweet but so unique at the same time. He tasted like himself. Nothing else could compare.

You chuckled. “You're so pervy.”

“But you love it.” He smiled at you, his sharp fangs more charming than ever

“Hey! Just because I'm your mate now it doesn't mean you get to be all cocky again.” You teased, pretending to be angry, as you pushed his arm away with your hand

Neteyam only smiled wider. He was over the moon that you were now finally his. All his. Until the end of time.

Neteyam yawned, body still in full bliss because of the powerful orgasm you had given him.

“I'm sleepy, oeyä tawtute. Take a nap with me.” He was already grabbing you in his big striped arms and laying you back on the hammock with him.

“You're not giving me a choice, anyway.” You chuckled and yawned too.

Soon your tired eyes fell shut, as you felt his warm breath on your skin.

𓇼

In the middle of the afternoon, you woke up crying, desperately breathing gasping for air. Neteyam woke up startled with your panicking state. Another nightmare... One of those that left your heart aching and your mind confused for long after you woke up, wondering if it had been reality or not.

“What's wrong, yawntu?” (loved one) 

When you realized Neteyam was by your side, still holding you against his warm body, you felt relieved but only seemed to cry more. You buried your head on his soft chest and he just let you cry there, petting your head softly with his hand, his slender fingers running through your locks of hair every now and then, trying to comfort you.

Eventually you stopped crying, sniffing one last time. You placed a kiss on Neteyam's chest, your lips lingering on his skin for longer than they normally would, as if to try and make sure that he was really there with you, that he was real and was not going away.

“Wanna tell me what happened now, oeyä muntxate?” (my mate)

You looked up at his face, eyes reddish.

“I had a terrible nightmare…” just the reminder made your heart ache again “I dreamt you left me. You got tired of me and found a better mate.”

“Tawtute… that's never gonna happen.”

“You promise?” You needed to hear him promise…

“I promise.” He tried to kiss you but you backed away a bit 

“What if your parents don't approve of us? Will you leave me then?” You hated how clingy and annoying you were sounding 

Neteyam started thinking that he would have to have an endless amount of patience with you. Your fear controlled you way too often. He would have to teach you how to be a little more free. But he would do it gladly.

"Listen, yawntutsyìp" (little loved one) Neteyam held your small face inside of both his huge blue hands "We will fight whatever we have to, whatever comes our way, and we will stay together forever, okay? I'm not letting anything separate me from you. Nothing, you hear me? Nothing." He promised you.

You breathed in and decided you had to try and believe him, otherwise you would end up sabotaging your relationship with Neteyam, you would end up contributing to what you feared the most: him leaving you. What you did not know was that there was actually nothing you could do to drive Neteyam away. He had been chasing you for way too long, he had fought for you like he had fought in the war against the Sky People. Neteyam was too much of a good warrior and too proud to let you go after all that. And damn, he could not imagine a life without you. Not a life where he would be happy and fulfilled, at least. He needed you to see the morning air as fresh, to hear the song of the birds as lively, to see the light of the stars as a guide.

“Okay. I trust you, Neteyam.” You stated, utterly sure of your words this time.

𓇼

♡ Epilogue ♡

You felt safe for the first time in so long while Neteyam held you inside his big arms, his body heat spreading all over you. It felt so cozy and just so… right. Like you had finally found what you needed, what you were unconsciously looking for all along.

Safety, trust, shelter… love.

Funny how sometimes when we need love the most is when we push it away the most, hurt the people who are trying to give it to us the most because we're so terrified to get hurt again, to finally trust and be let down again that we would rather keep drowning in our pain and in our loneliness. Pain can feel comfortable, as crazy as it sounds.

Turn a curse into a kiss

You could have never seen it coming, you could have never imagined back on your Earth days that your safe place to fall would be in the arms of an alien in an exoplanet, outside of your home solar system. What a weird happy ending. But it doesn't matter. There's still much more to come. This isn't the end, it's just the beginning.

𓇼

Change the meaning of your world

Love makes no sense, love has no name

Love drowns you in tears and it sets your heart on fire

Love has no fear, love has no reason

So infinitely vast and we're standing at the edge

Take my hand, erase the past forever

Love Exists (Amy Lee)

𓇼

This is the end, guys 🥲🤍 Feels so good to give Teyam and Reader a beautiful happy ending. Thank you all so much for reading my story 💕

•

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

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@lala-1516

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@fadedpetal

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you. 

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers. 

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment. 

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow. 

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.” 

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it. 

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth. 

“Jihoon, wait-” 

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!” 

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd. 

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here. 

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?” 

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?” 

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket. 

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.” 

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh. 

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that? 

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit. 

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!” 

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.” 

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little. 

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!” 

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students. 

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit. 

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4 

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage. 

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!” 

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully:  “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…” 

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-” 

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss. 

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly. 

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?” 

“Yep.” 

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?”  _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.” 

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.” 

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board. 

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows. 

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await. 

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.” 

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?” 

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you. 

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.” 

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..” 

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.” 

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.” 

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her? 

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!” 

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips. 

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more. 

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-” 

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.” 

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.” 

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you. 

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.”  _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed. 

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?” 

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!” 

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.” 

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.” 

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you? 

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?” 

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed. 

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?” 

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.” 

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!” 

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.” 

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation. 

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” 

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.” 

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.” 

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you. 

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you. 

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims. 

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?” 

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.” 

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!” 

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!” 

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points. 

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!” 

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker. 

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…” 

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too. 

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?” 

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!” 

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.” 

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!” 

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!” 

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.” 

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.” 

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes. 

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!” 

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…” 

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!” 

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich. 

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!” 

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily. 

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?” 

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.” 

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.” 

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!” 

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.”  _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening. 

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on. 

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you? 

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..” 

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-” 

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this. 

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice- 

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!” 

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?” 

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-” 

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!” 

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”  

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?” 

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.” 

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?” 

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.” 

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?” 

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word. 

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet. 

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.” 

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.” 

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh. 

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!” 

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile. 

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?” 

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.” 

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?” 

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where- 

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have. 

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”  _____________________________

“Jihoon?” 

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers. 

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.” 

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.” 

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?” 

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street. 

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. 

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-” 

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-” 

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-” 

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him. 

There are flowers in his hands. 

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code. 

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.” 

He nods. 

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers. 

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?” 

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?” 

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?” 

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you.  He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest. 

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted,  cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love. 

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.” 

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.” 

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy. 

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you. 

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again. 

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy. 

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it. 

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy. 

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him. 

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?” 

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-” 

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts. 

“Sorry, it was just-” 

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.” 

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?” 

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers. 

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously. 

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit. 

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?” 

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth. 

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side. 

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.” 

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling. 

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again. 

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.” 

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile. 

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.” 

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.” 

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.” 

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.” 

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan. 

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-” 

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?” 

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?” 

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.” 

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.” 

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you. 

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively. 

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious. 

“... Are you still hard?” 

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised. 

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” 

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing. 

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.” 

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..” 

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse. 

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior. 

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.” 

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins. 

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

[melodic-haze]

MORE SAD SUB ARLECCHINO. PLEASE. I NEED TO EAT. like shes in absolute TEARS SHES SO ME I LOVE HER PLEASE FEED ME MORE.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: A lil petplay (it's like one paragraph)

☆ — NOTES: I lied about not writing for this week lol I needed a distraction. Anyway combined these two bc they worked very sillily together hope yall don't mind 🫶 also YES I DO REMEMBER YOU 🎀 anon w my first ask about Arle :333

Oh man oh man oh MANNN I wanna do soooo many things to her auhfhthgh

Much as I ADORE absolutely ruining this absolute UNIT of a woman, I also want to take care of her and dote on her so much to the point where she fucking cries from being treated so well UGHHHHH

I feel like there are times at night when she remembers what she had lost in order to get to where she is right now (the chance to have a life that went in a more conventional direction, along w ESPECIALLY Clervie) and while she has learned to deal with the feeling itself in solitary, whenever you see her look out the window she is no longer The Knave—this was Peruere, a lonely girl yearning for something from so long ago

Even when she seems like such a self-assured person, all that composure threatens to fall into pieces the moment you, the one she now holds so achingly dearly in her heart, go to hug her and tell her that she's no longer alone :( no matter how many times you tell her or no matter how many times this scene repeats, it will never stop affecting her so deeply :(((((

I do think that she actually does love to sit on your lap. Sure, maybe it's kinda unnecessary and even more than a little embarrassing, but it makes her feel cared for instead of the way around that she's used to 🫶

"Who would've known that the real reason why you like being on my lap was for this, though..?"

You curled your fingers up in order to emphasise your point, hitting that specific spot within her that forces out a strangled gasp as her thighs make a feeble attempt to close themselves off.. despite the fact that you were comfortably sat right in-between.

Arlecchino makes no effort to answer you properly right away with one of her ever-so-composed words of wisdom or whatever they may be—she opts to tuck her head into the crook of your neck as fat tears roll down her cheeks, your skin almost as wet as her drooling cunt that you just can't get enough of.

(Her makeup is smudged too, though by this point it doesn't really seem like she cares.)

Though with the way your other hand was wrapped around her, softly stroking her back as if soothing your crying mess, and the way her own arms were clinging onto you, you both knew there was so much more to this position beyond your carnal actions.

Something much more emotionally charged, something much more than she usually let herself handle.

And perhaps it might also be because you had been at this for a while; your little lapdog was desperate for a release every time.. only for you to take the chance away from her, as if faking your pet out of her sweet treat. You couldn't help but play with her a little, not when her reactions are often the sweetest—uncharacteristic whines making its way out of her lips as she pleads you to fuck her silly, to--

"--make me forget for a brief moment, please-- ah..!"

And as her loving partner, of course you'd want to comfort her in whatever way you can.

"I'll make you forget your very title, Peruere."

"Please--"

Especially if it means fucking her until all that longing is long gone.

Need her to go from crying about who she had to kill to crying about who she ended up gaining in the end (and crying about how you make her feel too :3)

Just softly tell her that you love her, sing her praises, take care of her, kiss the tears rolling down her face, give her everything that she hadn't been meant to have or hadn't even realised she could ever have as the 'monster' her past has created

I just really really wanna spoil her and make her cry by overwhelming her with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with as someone who doesn't often let such things dictate her actions dude idk 🤷‍♀️

[artdcnaldson]

helloooo cat ☺️☺️

Since there’s a small community of late bloomer baddies over here (myself included) I thought of a dilf! art AU thats been brewing in my head

Okay so imagine late bloomer reader (maybe like 23ish) who’s not had her first kiss , has no one interested in her, feels dejected and undesirable and very lonely all the time, sick of hearing useless advice, just needs to feel wanted and cared for.

Enter freshly divorced and retired dilf ! Art ,, who just wants to take care of someone, and here’s reader who will positively combust from any amount of attention he pays to her ,, and he just wants to take care of her ,,, and eliminate all her insecurity,,, and corrupt her into the perfect toy for him 🥰🥰🥰 (also I’m not good at writing sex stuff but imagine that there’s a lot of (mean/soft) dom art / sub reader dynamics -, and ropes/cuffs/ toys and the like)

But all that aside, it’s also a weirdly compatible and caring partnership between them ,, they both understand the feeling of being unwanted /second best ,, and art gets the chance of a fresh start , and reader gets a partner who makes her feel safe and wanted

Also u know that theory that if a person feels safe around someone they start getting sleepy around them,, maybe that’s how art figures out that reader feels safe w him,, and then it becomes their thing ,, he’s there to hold her after a long day or just because ,, to rub her back and braid her hair and cuddle her and tell her that he’s here and everything’s gonna be fine and affirm / reassure her UGH and she’s so overwhelmed and cries everytime from how good he is to her ,,,

Wow I’ve no idea what came over me while I was writing this but I hope cat and cat hive can match my freak 🙏

🔮 anon

Ouugghhh I needed this softness rn I’m upset and this is exactly what I yearn for </3

DILF era art 🩷🩷🩷 my beloved

Divorced and lonely bc he doesn’t get to see Lily as often as he’s used to. He’s happy to coparent, he knows that’s important for Lily, but he misses having a house that’s loud and lively all the time. It’s why he thinks he starts dating so quickly. He’s 31 and already crashed out in one marriage, in his career… he needs someone to devote himself to again.

He meets you somewhere so normal— maybe a bookstore where he was buying something to busy his time on a quiet weekend. You’re sitting in the little cafe reading and drinking a coffee, and he thinks you’re so pretty that he can’t help but introduce himself. He’s surprised when you’re surprised by his attention to you, how your eyes widen and you stammer all nervously when he talks to you.

You spend an hour talking about books, about movies you like and how bad the coffee is. The next week you meet to do the same thing. It goes on for a month before you realize that these are dates, that you’re actively pursuing this older man (not a decade older, but close to it). But maybe it makes sense in a way. You never got on with the guys your age, never understood the machinations of dating online and how not to come on too strong and how not to come off as uninterested. Art makes it easy. You’re both on the same page.

It’s a slow build. He kisses you for the first time at your car. He asks if he can, and when you nod he tilts your head up and presses his lips to yours— slow, soft. It’s nice, it’s comfortable. It makes you feel like the years of yearning for someone to sweep you off your feet and be all of your firsts was worth it.

[pendwelling]

okay i really need spoiler for this

When will jess stop shiping Ogmc and ml?

And will ml tell him about his though? It's just bothering me for a while now im at ch140 and nothing seems like improving between mc and ml

(Not cris making fun of cedie its so funny but now i can't take it anymore😭)

I'm not sure if this is the answer you're looking for, because to answer it would mean to first and foremost analyze the character of Jung Yeseo haha. TWSB, unexpectedly, is so much more if you look past the veneer of silliness and comedy, and it intentionally does that at the beginning of the story to lure you into a false kinda sense of security, but also because of how Yeseo, as a character, influences the narrative voice and atmosphere of the story.

I'd like to first of all point out that a large part of why Jung Yeseo is so fixated on Christelle and Cédric's relationship stems primarily because of his sister and the original novel. Subconsciously, as well as very consciously yet deeply buried within him in a sort of self-preservation tactic, Yeseo is very aware of the fact that his life has been transported into a novel. While he doesn't display it in every chapter, he is also HEAVILY plagued with homesickness and a yearning to return back to his siblings. In his mind, the universe being a Rofan means that the World naturally revolves around Christelle and Cédric, and thus they're blossoming "romance". The story cannot be completed if they do not get together—and them getting together is also important, because above all else, this is JUNG EUNSEO's favourite story, and a part of Yeseo knows this very well, and his sister's beloved story isn't exactly something that he should meddle with. The characters' happiness is in a way tied to his sister's happiness (and there's kinda a lot to be said about this but anyhow I'll move on—)

In the initial parts of the story, Yeseo still has to fully come to terms either the fact that he's not /just/ in a novel, anymore. It is his current reality. But at the same time, it is blazingly obvious to him that there are also subtle outside forces that keep bringing him and the other protagonists together, so he resigns himself to the pull of "fate" and the "narrative", justifying it as such bc, well, he's in a novel.

Gradually, however, Yeseo DOES, in fact, get to know these "characters" better, and thus, sees them as their own people, separate from the fictional archetypes that he's only heard a bit about from his sister—whose words are rule, since they were literally the only point of reference for Yeseo who has never read a single word of QPB. As Yeseo grows closer with both Cédric and Christelle, he grows to learn more about them, and their personalities, and their traumas, worries, dreams, ambitions.....

"Cédric Riester" and "Christelle de Sarnez" no longer remain as "characters" to him, but real-life people whom he loves, cares, and worries about. Through all their struggles, trials, an adventures, they grow an indescribable bond that brings them closer than ever. Yeseo cares about them, worries about their future, and above all else, wishes for their HAPPINESS. The happiness is a big thing here, because Yeseo, also, is distantly aware of the constantly overhanging fruit that is:

HE DOES NOT BELONG THERE.

No matter how close he becomes with the people of QPB, there is nothing that could ever change the fact that at the end of the day, his ultimate goal has always been "return home to my family". Even when he loves his friends dearly, he will always and forever want to be with his siblings, and a big part of the story is Jung Yeseo coming to terms with his love for his siblings is both his driving force AS WELL AS the very thing holding him back.

In a way, you can interpret Yeseo constantly hoping for Christelle and Cédric to get together as his way of reassuring himself that, when he leaves them, they would at the very least have each other to rely on. Throughout the story, Yeseo expresses several times concern over Cédric and his future, hoping whenever he can that when Cédric ascends as Emperor of Riester (presumably, once Yeseo leaves to go back to his family), Cédric would have an entourage of people who genuinely care for and support him, even if Yeseo is not there. He does this with looking at the people around them and wondering how they might fit into Cédric's support net. Élisabeth as his bestfriend and future head of the Imperial Guard; Johann as a Cardinal Holy Knight and his teacher. Jibril Diop as a combat mage and a surprising fit for a future Prime Minister, etc etc. And naturally, Christelle as his Political Companion, and hopefully, just a close partner in general, whether it be romantic or not at all. Christelle and Cédric are most often his targets of "shipping" because they are just, plain and simple, his closest companions in that world who he worries about the absolute most, and who just so happened to have been a couple in another world. To Yeseo, that's enough of a reassurance that they will support each other, be there for each other, open up and be their rock and hill—even long after he is gone.

Of course, thankfully, this dilemma of "belonging and not belonging" and choosing one family over the other gets resolved masterfully by the author, so in the end, these worries of Yeseo are finalized in a way that makes you feel content with the outcome of everything. Both he and the readers no longer worry about leaving anyone behind. They managed to fight against the forces of the narrative and stay together. In the end, that's all that matters—Yeseo reunited with his siblings. Yeseo, Cédric, and Christelle get to stay together. It doesn't truly matter in what way, only that it was POSSIBLE, and that they fought tooth and nail for it to BE possible.

So yeah, haha, Yeseo will continue having these small delusions of them getting together (defence and coping mechanisms disguised as recurring gags), but he does come to realize that his friends are MORE than just their original character settings. But it doesn't stop him from hoping that they all genuinely find happiness—and he also realizes, eventually, that both Cédric and Christelle's happiness involves him, too.

Please do not worry. The character and relationship development in TWSB is truly masterfully written. I understand that it might appear slow to some readers, but in the end, when you reach that final chapter of the main story and look back at where it all started, you truly realize just how far all of these characters have come and how they've changed. TWSB is the kind of story that you cannot just take at face value, even if it initially presents itself as a simple, comedic, feel-good healing novel. It's so much more than that, and the first 100 chapters are really only dipping your toes into what it has to offer. Things start picking up when it gets to the real core of the story, but it must first go through the foreshadowing foundations disguised as silly inconspicuous things.

But anyhow, I hope this made sense haha... Jung Yeseo's shipping gag is truthfully more than just a gag when you analyze it closely in according to his goals and anxieties. I hope this was able to soothe some of your worries in any way!

[kairiscorner]

Can I request miguel with an insecure reader? :( like they wonder how he even fell for them or what they see in them... and maybe doesn't want kids because they're scared that they look like them and hate themselves as well

Sorry if it's too much and it's OK if you dont do it, love your blog ❤️🫂

AAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS !! no bc i get those feelings sometimes too :'(( i hope this provides you all the comfort you might be needing, and remember, you're all perfect just the way you all are 💓

❝i love you as you are.❞ — miguel o'hara x insecure!reader

there are times when you'd often go quiet randomly, no matter if the moment was lively and fast-paced–or even happy–earlier, you'd go silent all of a sudden and just kind of recluse away on your own without saying a word. you couldn't help it, the inner turmoils and nervous overthinking would always plague your mind and cause you to want some peace and quiet–even if you could never catch a break nor a moment of silence with those raging thoughts in your mind that refused to shut up and quit hurling insults at you that... you believed for a time to be true. you gripped at the blankets and tried blinking away the tears that formed in your eyes as you mumbled out a breath of, "stop it" at your mind; hoping against all hope that through your resistance, your brain would stop filling your head with distorted images of you that you couldn't even recognize. you soon let the tears fall as your mind kept asking you just why miguel was even with you; he's expressed before how much he yearned for kids of his own indirectly, hinting at some other dreams he wanted to live out that you couldn't provide for him.

"...i don't want to have kids, they... oh, they'd... they'd look so..." you whimpered out as you sobbed, choking on your words as you shook out the thoughts of your kids in your mind. you personally couldn't share the same vision as miguel, you didn't want kids—you wanted to live you life to the fullest, and you didn't feel that having kids was the end all be all of your existence, you just wanted to be you and live your life. and yet, you felt so inadequate at not even being able to share the same enthusiasm as miguel for wanting kids. you wept and cried for a few minutes, until a knock at the door was heard, and you sniffled back your sobs. "mi vida, are you in there? amor... can we... talk? i-i'm... i'm worried about you." miguel said with a soft, gentle voice that made you tear up again. how could you ever tell him when he's wanted children of his own for the longest time? wouldn't you seem selfish to him, for not being able to give him just this one thing when he's given you his everything? this made you think back as to why he picked you out of everyone else—there were many other people who wanted miguel, and... many of them were vocal about their desires to be parents–the one thing you were frightened of and had no interest in being.

they were all the same as miguel, eager to have their own families and didn't care about what others thought of them, they moved to the beat of their own drums and didn't stop for anybody, unlike you, who was so self-conscious and anxious about everything, especially yourself. you didn't respond, making miguel open the door out of concern and peek his head in through the crack of the door. miguel walked over to the side of the bed and sat next to you lying down, looking over at you with a saddened gaze, as if he were a lost puppy–sad and alone. "cariño, talk to me... please? if you don't wanna talk, though, that's okay. just, please... don't be scared of me, don't be scared of what you think i'll say or do, i love you, mi vida–i would never hurt you or try to hurt you, i could never."

his words of reassurance were so powerful, so genuine that you felt every word vibrate in your bones and sink deep within you, reaching your heart and piercing it like a dagger. you couldn't keep your feelings in anymore and rolled yourself over to his side, where he saw your eyes wide and swollen–sobbing and wet, your eyebrows crinkling upwards as your lower lip quivered. you apologized to miguel for the mess you were becoming, but miguel ran his hand through your hair and shushed you, saying it was okay, you're okay, you have no fault in anything. "mig, i... i can't make your dream come true." you choked out in a sob. "what could you possibly mean, mi amor? of course you can, you already have..." "no, i can't... i-i don't... i don't..." you stuttered, unsure of how to fully tell him in a way that'll lessen the blow, but you had no other way–you had to tell him, right now. with one decisive breath, you decided to just be honest with him, right here, right now.

"...i don't want kids, miguel..." you murmured out in a whisper, sobbing and gripping at the sheets as your tears stained them. you shook your head and sniffled back your tears, yet nothing stopped the tears from flowing as you kept repeating your truth: you don't want children of your own, and you don't want them to even resemble you. you found it a curse your children would inherit if they looked anything like you, because in your mind, you looked less than desirable; you believed miguel was simply holding out for you and secretly losing feelings behind all his caring smiles and sweet kisses. you apologized to miguel over and over, but miguel reassured you it was... okay. he rubbed your arm gently and shushed you.

"cariño... i love you either way. you don't need to be a parent for me to keep wanting you, i just want you to be you." "and why do you want to be with me?" "because i love you, and that's final. i love you, mi vida... you don't need to bear my children or be a parent, i love you for you, and that'll never change. you already made all my dreams come true by loving me back, and i'll do everything in my power to keep that smile on your beautiful, lovely face. you're perfect, amor, eres perfecta como eres." he whispered to you as he wrapped his arms around you and held you closely and tightly; he kissed the top of your head and rubbed up and down your arms all comfortingly. you cried into his chest and clung on to the front of his shirt while he shushed you and kissed your tears away. though it'll take a long time of undoing the way you saw yourself, the way you couldn't accept many things about you, it comforted you somehow that miguel loved you—for your perfections and flaws, for your strengths and weaknesses, for your comfort and discomfort. he loved you with a love that transcended love, and you didn't feel anything apart from a weight being lifted off your shoulders, bit by bit.

he loved you, and that was all he knew.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[kimbapisnotsushi]

going insaneeeee pls give us more stz / semiten hcs 🙏🙏

anon i would be HONORED to!!!!

semiten get together because ushijima doesn't realize that tendou's feelings are supposed to be a secret

not that he like. outright tells semi i just mean that ushijima sets them up a lot bc of it

semi: "yeah so the record shop is doing this exhibit downtown over the weekend, and—" ushijima: "tendou would be happy to go with you. you should ask him" semi: ". . . what"

ushijima is the number one semiten wingman without even realizing it honestly

also despite tendou's tendencies to wreak havoc i think he and semi are a super lowkey quiet couple when it comes down to it!! they probably get a lot of "you guys are dating??? it doesn't look like it" comments from other people tbh but they don't care, as long as they know each other's intentions then it's fine <3

the only times they do pda is when tendou particularly wants to rub it into someone's face that he's got the most amazing boyfriend in the world or just wants to brag about semi in general. especially if someone is being really annoying ABOUT semi

some asshole: "yeah i don't know why semi's so popular, it's not like he's anything special-" tendou, grabbing semi's hand: "oh would you look at that my SUPER-HOT and SUPER-SWEET boyfriend offered to get me boba!! isn't he so nice??? isn't he the best??? everyone else should learn from you or they might get broken up with. come on eita let's go before they close :3"

and then he gives the most cutting glare to said asshole because he knows for a fact that said asshole refused to buy anything from the vending machines for his gf when she asked

(GOD now i'm thinking about a fic where tendou realizes his feelings for semi + confesses bc other students keep going to him for help to confess to semi and tendou's like "well of COURSE so many people like him he'd be a great boyfriend! wait—")

anyways when they get to the boba shop tendou is the one who treats as compensation for dragging semi into his scheme

OH ALSO if ushijima gets all of tendou's pining and yearning and ranting then reon and yamagata gets semi's :333

it's worse for reon actually because i champion the "reon and tendou roomies" hc which means he goes back to his dorm room at the end of the day after listening to semi and has to face tendou . . . he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders

any time a classmate says some rich kid shit that pisses shirabu off he's like "i should have fucking gone to karasuno" under his breath and the first time tendou hears him say it, tendou laughs so hard he almost passes out

goshiki's obsessed with gacha machine collections. once he chooses a series he's going to do his best to get all of them. right now he's working his way through collecting an ice cream float series where all of the colors are violently neon gradients

(yes this is bc i saw an ice cream float one in real life. yes they were very pretty and i regret not giving it a chance)

the others help him out too!!! whenever they see a machine that has it and goshiki isn't there they always take a chance for him. shirabu got him a new one for his collection and was like "ugh here i don't understand the point of all this but it's useless to me anyways i know you've been looking for it" bc he wouldn't know being emotionally vulnerable if it socked him in the face. and then goshiki almost cried

he won't say it but that's his favorite one

what does goshiki do with them you ask??? uhhh. good question

he keeps the ones he doesn't use on his desk!! otherwise he puts them on his phone or backpack or whatever. and whenever he gets extras he passes them on to other people!!

he becomes really well-known amongst his classmates for being the gachapon items dealer LMAO

i think yamagata is also really really good at all other sports as opposed to, like, the others who are only really good at volleyball. he always dominates during the sports festival and also causes beef with like every other sports team at shiratorizawa

kawanishi hates the uniforms. he's like the shoujo high school romance rebel bad boy cliche come to life when it comes to the shiratorizawa uniforms. he'll leave them untucked and wrinkled and he'll shed them like snake skin the second he can. it's stiff and heavy and hot and he HATES it okay he wasn't built for this!!

on that note i think he and semi share similar fashion tastes!! they go shopping together a lot and hence kawanishi hears all of semi's lamenting about shirabu

look i truly really genuinely do believe semi tries. but shirabu makes it so HARD.

give me the fluffy slice-of-life comedy where semi tries to become Mentor of the Year and wears down shirabu's walls like sandpaper. i just think it'd be really fucking funny you know???

hold on . . . i have things to plan now . . .

[xstarlightxstarbrightx]

Neuvi headcanons

MY BBGRL,,, MY LIL CUTIE MANS WHO I ADORE,,,, i love him so much he's so fuCKIng CUTE dude, lil dragon mans sksmefkhjrshefkj. i swear i'm a normal individual w/ these characters

list of current h/c's: - i feel like he's socially anxious?? like ok, listen, he's GREAT w/ any formal situation, but THE MOMENT it gets casual he PANICs on the inside bc he's like 'wait what's the right and wrong thing to say'. - following that, i feel like when he's in a casual conversation w/ ppl and starts getting panicked, i feel like he's learned to tap his cane twice on the ground to signal to any of his closer companions that he's freaking out. like a "get me out of this situation please" type deal. - this ties into my belief that he's got anxiety regarding smaller scale things. like if he makes a small mistake on something or breaks an object, he feels SO BAD and panics as he tries to figure out how to fix it.

- knowing this, i feel like he feels a bunch of emotions, he just doesn't know how to like,,, put them into words? read below - a yearning for learning,,,, actively seeks out how to label his emotions, but how does one define their feelings? Emotions are not equated to logic, and yet they're a part of human experience, so what is the method to label that which is so intangible yet so real? he doesn't know yet, but he's figuring it out and i'm so proud of him :)c - overprotective in his own way. like he's been putting a lot of stuff on his shoulders so ofc that includes him being sensitive towards people he cares about being harmed. - prideful! he doesn't think he's prideful, he just is Proud Of Things, but tbh i get a bit of a "dragon pride" vibe from him. it's silly goofy and rears up the most around certain Archons. - GOOD DAD. NEUVI IS SUCH A GOOD DAD. IF A MELUSINE COMES UP TO HIM TO TALK ABT A THING, HE IS THE MOST ATTENTIVE LISTENER. HE'LL ASK QUESTIONS, TOO, TO TRY AND LEARN MORE. oUGH i love him he's SUCH a gOOD DAD - afraid of losing everything; Neuvi didn't really realize he had so much to lose until he almost lost it, and now he's like even more scared to lose anything else. - anxious of closer connections. Neuvi wants to be closer to people; he really likes humanity, and he wants to reach out to people. but he's afraid, bc if they ever err away from the side of justice, they may end up in his court. no matter what happens, then, is him sentencing them not a form of betrayal? neuvi ponders this a lot - MOVING AWAY FROM SAD THINGS: y'all i'll be SO real, ppl are so used to Neuvillette being in Fontaine that, when he's Outside of Fontaine, unless they Know Him on a personal level, no one recognizes that he's the Iudex of Fontaine. like not even actual Fontainians register it, bc, like, why would the literal Iudex Leave his Natural Habitat of the Court of Fontaine??? - side note, average ppl are intimidated by him. like most ppl look at him and go 'if i approach him, i will be arrested for war crimes bc CLEARLY he is a PRINCE' (which is the best and funniest shit) - 'unrelated'; Neuvi doesn't talk to a lot of ppl outside of his closer friend group, i think u can understand why - such a hard worker,,, honestly probably overworks himself and doesn't even realize it. - WHICH LEADS ME TO HIS HOBBIES HEHEHHEHEHEHE - ARTIST,,, you CANNOT sit there, after Lantern Rite, and TELL ME that HE DOES NOT start looking into the arts. THIS MAN would ABSOLUTELY get into painting and poetry and shit. he likes watercolors and he ADORES POTTERY (THAT FUCKING LADLE??? I CRIED OVER IT IN MY TEAPOT FOR 30 MINUTES HELP) - loves books and stories. like seriously they're kinda actually really fun for him to read bc he sits and breaks down what is and isn't accurate abt them (crime/detective books) and he gets invested in romance books (he's CURIOUS okay??) - bc he reads Fontainian romance books, any and every romantic gesture is like,,, awkwardly sappy? like he'll do small scale things bc he's a lil nervous baby, but it's THE SAPPIEST of the sappy. - fashion lover. Listen, this man could arguably wear whatever he wants and he chose to wear THAT???? he's a fashion lover / makeup master, and i will die on this hill. - he would laugh at Cyno's jokes, but only AFTER Cyno explains them.

OKAY I,,, I THINK I DID IT,,, i had so much written i'm dying please i love him so so so much. my itty bitty squishy bbgrl i cannot wait to explain why and how he joined the party / poly it's SO silly, this entire thing is my favorite i have been yapping abt them for a MILLENIA

[starz4valen]

queers im fucking lost come save me

ok but in all seriousness,

despite labeling myself as aroace for a hot minute and finding comfort in that label and the community for a time—shit doesnt feel quite right anymore.

i have had ONE EX. one.

i genuinely think i was in love with him. i only felt what i felt with him,,,WITH HIM. nobody else. I felt the butterflies/giddiness, i loved his laugh, his smile, hearing him, his jokes, all the names he would call me, how much he said he loved me, our late night discord calls, having him around, just. him. when he rarely spoke abt shit that was bothering him it hurt me so bad, like i would hurt with him. and the mere THOUGHT of ME hurting him made me wanna sob.

as you can probably guess by the fact we’re exes, we’re not together anymore. it hurts. hell, my stomach tangled a bit as i typed that out. (could be cause recently someone who used to be a friend went and dated him and then got upset at me for getting upset at them but this ain't abt them.)

we broke up in like june last year, and i felt so fucking horrible about it bc it basically ended w him yelling at me over text at how horrible i am at listening and how i treated him more like a therapist—which i will admit i did. i sucked for that. it makes sense why tho, i was working through a lot of shit at the time, doesn’t justify it at all though. i should’ve treated him better. im desperately trying to fix it in my current relationships so that never happens again.

then again, he also treated me badly. he said things that really fucked with my sense of trust in people and just made me scared to get close with anyone like that ever again, or in general bc i was convinced everyone had some ulterior motive w me or secretly didnt give a shit abt me—but also i felt *I* was the problem. like every relationship im in is gonna end horribly bc im just that bad. its taken a lot to say that i feel loved by and trust my current friends, as well as trying to recognize that I deserve love, and im glad i can say that im getting better ^^

but,,,idk anymore

i concluded i was aroace almost a year after we broke up. there were a couple reasons. for one, i only really got that close w him. i dont really know if ive had a crush or what that feels like—in fact i think i faked one in elementary, the whole reason i got w my ex was bc he was flirting w me and it made me feel nice. (also bc i was worried he would be my only shot at love but i digress) i feel off when people talk about heading to poundtown or anything like that, the same with crushes—just crushes tho relationships i totally get—and i still struggle to wrap my head around attraction and how people just can look at someone without even knowing them at ALL and go “you. i want you.”

i wrote off how i felt when i was with him as simply some non-romantic form of attraction and called it a day.

but recently ive been reflecting on that, and i think i was wrong. the way that even now i get all these emotions by merely talking abt my ex says something. how upset seeing that "friend" going ahead and dating him after barely knowing him and just how angry i was says something. the way i cried seeing my best friend get a whole small crate of presents from their partner for their bday bc i was THAT JEALOUS says something. the way i yearn for affection and to be loved again says something. the way im starting to miss being in love again says something. the way i would always want some sort of relationship—even when i identified as aroace—but just never thought it would happen bc i didn't feel pretty enough, or mentally well enough, deserving of one, or like id ever be lucky enough to find someone who makes me feel that way again and how scared and sad that makes me,,,says something.

now in terms of poundtown—legit dunno. closest to that I've done w anyone was neck kisses from my ex, which i did really enjoy—but also i legit identified as ace like the whole time we were together and the few times he made jokes like that i felt uncomfy. plus the only way i feel i could be ok w going further w something like that is if its either excessively gentle or the most unserious thing ever. so tbh if i had to take a guess on how i feel abt that—not too keen on it.

I'm debating a couple labels, bi, aroace, bi and ace, demirose, and demirose and bi, but tbh i feel bi kinda fits the most? (maybe???) but also it doesn't. idk if its the fear of opening my mind to me being in a relationship despite my fear of intimacy and commitment or just that I'm aroace and this is my brain telling me to stop overthinking shit—but i know i wanna figure this shit out

if anyone has like legit any words of advice PLEASE send it my way. i will take even the tiniest crumb of guidance cause i am more lost than a child in ikea.

thanks to anyone who read all this <3

[angedemystere]

Some quick spoilery thoughts about The Chosen S3 E6

Ok wow we’re meeting Pilate and his wife this early in the show. And Pilate is like, what, 21? This show once again playing with my expectations (in a good way)

SNEKK (vague Passion of the Christ vibes 👀)

Everyone’s just casually sharpening their knives and ngl I too did not get the joke right away Matthew that’s ok

Very interesting that of all the people Nathaniel sends over to Zee to get info it’s Little James. Nicely shows how his meekness is effective at disarming even former Zealots (to a point)

But hey why not have Matthew ask and show how Zee and Matthew have gotten to know each other? Bc he’s too busy learning how to stab people in the eye from Simon?

Honestly I wasn’t sure what Zee would actually do, but it was cool seeing him cornered by Zealots, then realizing his only option is to “fight” without a blade the way he was trained, but by relying on his faith in Jesus, and it ends up impacting at least one of the Zealots. Like, it was a little close to cheesy, but it made you see how Zee would someday become an effective apostle without having to use his assassin skills (most of the time)

Mary and Tamar’s conversation .... that was beautiful and oooooof

Ladies getting down to BUSINESS (with the olive oil business)

Judas forgetting to take the sheath off his dagger before threatening an intruder 🤣

Simon testing John’s messengers to make sure they know Andrew ... “T/F Andrew is a great dancer” istg

Simon and Eden’s whole situation ... ripping my heart to pieces

Ok what’s the deal with Pilate and Atticus? Are they related? They’re very buddy-buddy, to the point that I think they might be uncle and nephew or something. Dallas please explain. I loved their conversation but pls explain

This take on Pilate is fascinating. He’s clearly a product of his environment, but he also wants the good of the people and to foster peace (which includes executing rebels). Nicely sets up his role in Jesus’s story (the irony train never stops)

BARNABY AND SHULA!!!!

Gaius listening to Jesus’s teachings instead of Quintus’s commands and helping the people in the tent city aggghhh! I mean it’s beautiful but also dude you’re going to get in trouble

I almost cried when the mute man was healed

I love that while Jesus is clearly challenging the Pharisee and religious leaders in general, there’s yearning in the way He’s speaking - He wants so much for the Pharisee to listen the way Yosef and Jairus do

Also Jairus and Gaius inadvertently collaborating to protect Jesus askgdhf

[racfoam]

F PLEASE FOR NYNN PLEASEEEE

It’s really tough to pick my favourite quote... I have lots but those would be spoilers so I'll just quote some that stand out for me

nynn chapter 2

“Look how I marked you.” -Voldemort to Harry

- This shit gave me chills, I'm the proudest for the graveyard because it was the first first FIRST time I even wrote for the HP Fandom, wrote the characters. I am so PROUD of myself. That was my ever first chapter for HP overall to write and I'm so proud how it turned out. I was really proud of how I wrote Voldemort, it was scary how easy the words flowed for him and his dialogue. There were a lot of built-up ideas since 2018 after 'she walks in beauty' so I think that is also the reason. I actually wrote the graveyard somewhere in 2019 I think.

nynn chapter 4

“You can’t help him, Harry. He’s gone. It’s over. Let go.”

I was bawling like a baby after writing this sentence.

“...brought him home... Cedric told me... bring him home... to his parents...”

“I couldn’t leave him…!” Harry cried helplessly, holding onto Cedric protectively, [...] “Not there!”

This was completely inspired by the movie, it’s the most heartwrenching scene in the series.

“That’s right, Harry…” said Dumbledore softly. “You brought him home, you did well... Let go of him now, you wonderful girl....”

- yep, proud of this one, too. It's a reflection of the “Harry, you wonderful boy...” I think bcs it shows how Dumbledore sees how much Harry cares for people and that's why he says Harry is wonderful. Not everyone has such a heart as Harry’s.

nynn, chapter 6

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to understand, I don’t want to accept! It will break me! It will kill me!” - Harry

- I'm proud of this one because it tells a broader story. The mere idea of accepting Voldemort is back is terrible to Harry. The graveyard becomes the most traumatising moment of Harry's life — as Harry doesn't remember in detail the 1981 Halloween — and this event becomes what Harry can't stop thinking about. Harry is afraid of facing this new reality, she’s just a 14-year-old kid. A brave 14-year-old kid, but still a kid.

The frustration built up in her, released in the next words. “It’s my fault, Sirius. I told Cedric, I told Cedric to take the cup with me…Cedric wouldn’t have… died… if I wasn’t all noble! If I just… was faster, smarter, Cedric wouldn’t have… and Voldemort wouldn’t have come back!”

I like this one because it shows survivor’s guilt. I think there is a lot of psychological aspects never expanded on properly regarding Harry’s encounters with Voldemort and how it affects Harry, and I like delving into them.

nynn 4th year nightmare scene

I want to go home, I want to go home, Harry thought desperately, wishing she could move, run for the cup, get Cedric, hold Cedric’s hand again.

“You want to go home?” asked Voldemort sibilantly, speaking it slowly, softly. Let his voice carry into her ears. Groaning frightfully, Harry grabbed onto her ears, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. Clenched her eyes, not wanting to see his eyes anymore.

He smiled, but it was cold and cruel. “I am your home.”

- This is Harry’s subconscious showing Harry something deeper. Especially the last line. At least, I hope it came out that way. Very proud of this.

“They died on their feet! They died opposing you!”

And so will I and so will I and so will I and so will I —

“Do you yearn to do the same, Harriet? Are you going to rebel against what magic has chosen to happen?”

“I’ll take you with me!” swore Harry. “I’ll drag you to your worst fear with me!”

- The last line of this is sth that just gave me chills. It's so brave. Harry is willing to die with Voldemort if it means defeating him. I just really like the “I’ll drag you to your worst fear with me!” holy shit that was brilliant, and really impactful. I am VERY proud of that.

Also, the scene where McGonagall hugs Harry and later McGonagall’s speech to Harry is also one of my favourites.

nynn 5th Year

“Don’t ever say that bastard’s name again!” yelled Harry angrily, voice turning low and dangerous, a growl. Her heart raced in her chest, its rhythm kick-started with fury. “Don’t ever say Tom again, or I’ll turn you into a pocket watch.”

- Mostly proud of this bcs of how feral Harry can become when pissed off. There is sth to be said about her hating saying both Voldemort and Tom, spitting both names with venom. Also, Harry threatening to turn Dudley into a pocket watch was badass.

“You're outside, you’re outside,” said Voldemort, exultant and excited, sounding as if he couldn’t contain his joy...

- Yeah, this was fucking terrifying, I love it. 😊 The horror two words can become...

“Nothing much, just taking a summer stroll. I totally planned to sit on my knees.” said Harry,

“You know, the usual quiet day for me," said Harry gracefully. “One can never have too many quiet days.”

Voldemort spoke, soft as a whisper. “Indeed...”

“Who knows, by midnight I might get attacked by a dragon.” Hit by a sudden inspiration, Harry added hopefully, tired beyond description. “Actually, can I take the dragon now? Can you come to kidnap me later?”

Voldemort smiled.

- This shit was great to write, I love the little bit of banter between them, Harry's sarcastic "oh you know, taking a stroll, enjoying my quiet day" Harry wanting to take on a dragon rather than Voldemort and it is all rather funny if you take away the tension 🤣🤣

nynn chapter 17

A cold, warm breath puffed at the back of her nape. 

“Until next time,” Voldemort drawled out the syllables of her name with ardent slowness, as if he were mapping whispering kisses over her skin. “Har-ry.”

- I know everyone lost their minds at the description of this, and I am very proud of this.

nynn chapter 3

“Step aside! I will have her! She is mine!”

“Piss off, you mad bastard!”

- Finishing off with the iconic reply, this one is another favourite of mine. Whenever I think of nynn, this is one of the quotes that stayed in my mind.

There are many more quotes, and I probably missed a lot of them, but here they are! Thank you for the ask and sorry it took me a while to answer this one.

Sending love 💖

[svnflowermoon]

hi

remember the anon from a few weeks ago who asked for advice about a girl called M? an anon with the emoji 🫀? well idk if u have already guessed but that was me

i told M that i like her and that if she didnt like me back she must tell the truth and she said ‘thats the thing, i dont know how i feel about you’ and then i told her i would wait

now i dont know what to do except wait, and like i can do that but like im just scared and we’ve been thru so much shit over the years between us and i feel like M probably doesnt like me the same way and thats why she said she doesnt know as in i dont completely know if i dont like you…..

like we used to be best friends and then we werent and like she smiles at me and ive heard that she wants a girlfriend, but i’ve also heard she likes this other girl who is super pretty like M and like im not that pretty and what if she is holding a grudge against the stuff i said last year to her???

like ive been depressed and sad and cried so much over her before, and missed her so much, and ive felt the whole spectrum of emotions over her, and i really care about her and i worry about her and i love her but what if she’s never felt like that towards me??? what if what she felt about me was a silly crush she had for like two months?

what if she leaves me waiting for months or years and then tells me and then ive spent my whole high school loving her and she didnt?? then what?

oh my god im ranted so much im so so so sorry you had to read all of that but i really needed to tell someone who would understand?? cos like non of of my friends have experienced desperate lesbian yearning and its like so hard cos they like guys and i dont

i just like her so much and i dont know what to do if she doesnt like me

again im so so sorry

omg hi!! i'm gonna be honest i'm oblivious so i hadn't figured out that it was you 😭😭

oh my god that's such an awkward situation like there's really nothing you can do except wait for her omg

i hope she likes you back omg, also about the whole thing abt the other girl, there's a chance she just has a flirty personality and has trouble figuring out who she likes fr bc she flirts so often?? idk i wouldn't know i can't flirt for the life of me. (also i'm sure you're gorgeous don't put yourself down like that angel <333)

considering you're feeling so strongly about the whole thing, i'd recommend making sure you spend time with your friends. try not to isolate yourself, just because you're waiting for her doesn't mean you have to put your whole life on pause. genuinely like spending time with friends will boost your mood sm, it won't fix it entirely but it will help you remember that you have other people in your life that are there for you <33

if she leaves you waiting for ages and then tells you that, then honestly she's an asshole 😭 if she didn't feel at least SOMETHING for you, she would probably want to let you know as soon as she could to save you too much hurt. ofc idk cause idk her irl but personally when i don't like someone i want to break that to them as soon as i can. so i think she probably likes you, it might not be as much as she did before or as much as you like her but i bet she likes you

don't feel bad for ranting omg never feel bad for ranting it's okay <333 the desperate lesbian thing is so real lmao i totally get you, please feel free to update me on whatever happens <33

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

questions that only your mind can answer:

1. suguru as a poet. y/n? if y, who do you think his favorite poet would be?

2. what siken poem is the most sugu coded?

3. if satoru was a type of poem what kind would he be and why?

thank you for your time my ari.

WAHHHHH MY IO……… 🥺🥺🥺 you have no idea how loud i squealed when i saw this LMAO thank you sm for giving me an excuse to gush over stsg and poetry at the same time i feel so privilieged 😭😭😭 UMMM UM LET ME THINK!!!!

1/ first off. BIG yes. huge yes. he’s so poetcoded it makes me ILL. io i’m convincedddd that this man would be a literature major and i’m not just saying that bc i’m biased ok…. i just feel like he would have a fondness for the arts yk :33 particularly writing. i can picture him as a poet so easily bc everything he does and says is flowery and soft…. poet!sugu would make us swoooooon

i’m a bit sleepy rn so at first i thought you meant y/n as in like .. The Reader 😭😭 BUT THEN I STARTED THINKING ABT POET!READER TOO AND. wow. theee power couple ever !!! aaa io he’d be so perfect :((( sugu would be such a supportive bf no matter what his s/o did for a living but w any kind of writer i just think he’d be so Good. proofreads for you all the time!! he’s your most loyal reader… your biggest fan…. reads alllll your little poems when you’re away and he misses you :((( and he writes you his own !!! they’re so mushy and pretty and sweet…… hhhh. he’s just. the best!!! T_T brags abt your writing to satoru alllll the time but doesn’t let him read any of it w/o your consent (maybe even with it LMAO)… i just think he’d feel so honoured if his shy little poet!s/o only let him read their works :’3

nooo i’m not projecting at alllll… wdym…..

OOOHH AND AND. his favorite poets!!! as much as i’d love to say siken i don’t think that’s really his style. suguru strikes me as the type to enjoy very flowery writing, a bit musical-leaning in the rhythm and structure and stuff!! also season-based…. i’m thinking verlaine and rimbaud and nakahara. french symbolist poets and anyone inspired by them!! as for a more modern example i think he lovesss mary oliver and louise glück :3 october is one of his favorites!!! these lines remind me a lot of him….

Summer after summer has ended, balm after violence: it does me no good to be good to me now; violence has changed me.

This is the present, an allegory of waste. So much has changed. And still, you are fortunate: the ideal burns in you like a fever. Or not like a fever, like a second heart.

This is the light of autumn; it has turned on us. Surely it is a privilege to approach the end still believing in something.

hmmm….. a part of me wants to say he really enjoys frank bidart too. the war of vaslav nijinsky makes me think of him!!! :0 the themes of morality and guilt.. especially this line for some reason:

romola. diaghilev. i have eaten the world.

maybe it’s bc of his ct but . i just feel like he’d enjoy poetry abt hunger and eating in a more abstract sense… devouring…. etcetc. it’s a big contrast to the usual nature-based flowery prose he reads but sugu loves having his contrasts so. i think it makes sense!!

all in all i think he has very good taste. he’s not afraid to dip his toes into other genres either!!

2/ IO . 🥺🥺 MY SWEETHEART….. i literally cried i can’t believe you’re indulging me like this i started shaking w excitement……… i just went through crush + war of the foxes and if i had to narrow it down to just a single poem (<- extremely difficult task!! pls be proud) it’d have to be…… little beast.

if i had to sum this poem up with two words they’d be violent and tender… which is the case for all of siken’s poems tbf 😭 but that yearning for tenderness in the midst of violence is just so, so evident here. it always guts me. there are softer poems that i’d compare suguru to, but if we’re talking about canon suguru, his connection to satoru, his fate and ideals and desperate yearning for love… then i think this one is the most fitting.

obv this is tied to my own interpretation but!! at the end of the day. i see suguru as someone who craves tenderness. he craves love and intimacy and what drove him to his breaking point was the realization that he wouldn’t get it without slaughter. i think that line between violence/gentleness drives him insane but he has no choice but to tiptoe around it. and that’s what this poem makes me think of. some lines remind me of stsg and that dichotomy in their relationship, others just of suguru and his mental state…. and also his charm. that dangerous edge to him. the contrasting softness. the poem gets more violent as it goes on but the love never fades and that’s what really gets me.

the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. it’s thinking of love. it’s thinking of stabbing us to death and leaving our bodies in a dumpster. that’s a nice touch, stains in the night, whiskey and kisses for everyone.

someone once told me that explaining is an admission of failure. i’m sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart.

i know history. there are many names in history but none of them are ours.

you could drown in those eyes, i said. the fact of his pulse, the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire not to disturb the air around him.

you could drown in those eyes, i said, so it’s summer, so it’s suicide, so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

more frequently i was finding myself sleepless, and he was running out of lullabies.

but damn if there isn’t anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills.

we pull our boots on with both hands but we can’t punch ourselves awake and all i can do is stand on the curb and say sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.

i couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but i wore his jacket for the longest time.

…… honourable mentions to landscape with fruit rot and millipede + birds hover the trampled field + snow and dirty rain

3/ aaaand finally !!! this question was kinda tough… but soooo much fun to think abt. <33

i think satoru is the kind of poem that stays with you forever. the kind that pulls you in with a really gripping opening line, forces you to read it all in one sitting, and then you’re left wondering what the hell it was even about. flowery but with no real substance until you dig really deep, and then it’s all you can see. the kind of poem you could pick apart for hours and hours……. a real gem. but it’s comforting, above all else. he’s like a collection of poetry that makes you smile just to hold it!!! :>

now !!! some questions for you !!!!! >:3

how do you think satoru would be w a poet!s/o?

any thoughts on poet!nanami..? 👀