#I'm so in love with all of these characters

[tapeworrmart]

What if James was always onimously soaked through as a nod to his ending

[joejhang]

every insane thing in arcane s2 act 1 in no particular order (spoilers)

CAITVI KISS (they're actually all i think about your honour)

that HUG (i SCREAMED oh my GODDDD)

bro s2 jinx lowk has a different flavour and i'm loving it

jinx and sevika dynamic is actually really funny LMFAO

when sevika's new arm started playing music and jinx was just enjoying herself (HELP she's so unserious)

viktor in his jesus era??? i KNEW i wasn't projecting the religious undertones

mel is going THROUGH IT

ambessa what's goin on

bro...the kid...she's gonna die isn't she

the jinx and vi fight scene took me out actually like bro why r the girls fighting

viktor and jayce divorced (not even that big of a jayvik shipper but i felt this one...the affection that held them together...yeah)

VI you will ALWAYS be my favourite idgaf what the fandom says or thinks about you i LOVE YOU ALWAYS

cait said "i won't change" but she already has GOD TELL THE SAPPHICS TO LEAVE ME ALONE

on that note i WILL be defending caitlyn for everything she does she has so much flavour oh my god

ekko and heimerdinger most unserious characters ever

on a more serious note tho i love ekko i'm soooo interested to see what he gets up to this season

lowk i think jinx is likely to be more favourable towards vi from here on out given how their fight ended and since vi's probably gonna enter her emo pitfighter era post-caitvi breakup and since we saw her betting on vi PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE JUST MAKE UP AND HUG OR SOMETHING

caitvi breakup that no one is allowed to talk about or i'll crash out

bro the way the season started too...that was HEAVY

i lowk like the faster pace this season last season felt like a lot of buildup imo

what is this shady black rose shit

tf actually is the arcane bro

jayce and vik girlbossed a bit too close to the sun and might've woken up some ancient uncontrollable power haha

GIVE ME ACT 2 NOW I'M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

[go-fornicate-yourself]

Every day I am in the trenches fighting for my life defending this poor man. He was going through so much and people online demonize him and say he's as bad as his abuser

(I've got a lot of thoughts about this so I'll make sure to separate things to make it easier to look at lol)

Curly is a victim of abuse. Jimmy is his abuser. This is something that I feel a lot of people tend to brush over or don't acknowledge it often.

And I'm not just talking about post-crash. Jimmy's abuse of Curly is there pre-crash too. The party scene where the crew learns about the company going under is a huge example of this. Jimmy verbally abuses him, he gaslights him, he blames him for their (his) misfortune. Jimmy accuses Curly of thinking he's better than everyone (better than him), that he doesn't care about them (about him). That he's going leave them (leave him). Which is not true. Curly tries to explain himself but Jimmy shuts him down and he just takes it.

The fact that he just allows this to happen makes it seem like he's used to this... That this kind of behavior is a recurring thing with Jimmy. And the fact that nobody else tries to defend him or stands up to Jimmy just normalizes it for him. When Anya tells Curly what Jimmy did it catches him off guard. Bc he genuinely didn't think that his friend was capable of that. It wasn't something that was obvious to him. There were absolutely many red flags in the past but they were subtle enough for him to not see them bc he cares for Jimmy, he trusts him. Jimmy's the only one he feels he can open up to, who he can let his guard down with. Jimmy's his home. That's how close they are.

Because of this deep love for his friend and the subtlety of Jimmy's cruelty, he doesn't see the constant verbal and emotional abuse as what it is: abuse. Which is why he finds Jimmy's abuse towards Anya so shocking and jarring.

He isn't a man covering for his rapist friend bc of the 'bro code'. It does look like that from a certain angle and it's understandable why people see it that way but that's not what his character is really about as much as it makes sense otherwise.

He's essentially a battered housewife who's still in love with her husband but is realizing for the first time that the man she loves is a monster. That the man she loves and devoted her life to has been hurting her this whole time and she didn't even realize it. That the man she loves and spent so much of her life caring for has gone and hurt someone else. That he's most likely hurt others before and she's been utterly unaware of it the entire time she defended him and made excuses for him when he wasn't the best or the fairest or the most responsible or when he screwed up yet again solely bc of how much she loved and cared for him.

And Curly barely had any time to process ANY of that before Jimmy decided to try and kill them all to avoid the consequences of his actions. It was ultimately a selfish act even if he thought he wasn't just doing it for himself. Jimmy is selfish and needs to be in control or he loses it. He cares for Curly. He loves him. Curly's done so much for him. Curly's the only one who understands him, who doesn't hate him. Curly's his home. He resents how 'successful' he is but that's only bc he thinks so highly of him. He constantly puts himself down and put Curly on a pedestal and worships him while simultaneously mistreating him.

He treats his best friend like shit, he's awful to him. But he's not aware that this is the case or maybe he's in denial about it. He can't or just refuses to see how he's doing all of what he does for himself in the end. He justifies his attempt to kill them all (to himself and to Curly) by claiming he's doing this for them both. That if they were to get back to earth it would all be Curly's fault, that it'll ruin his life and career... despite the fact he had basically nothing to do with Anya's abuse. Jimmy's shifting the blame on him while acting like he cares for him. Well, he does genuinely care for him but clearly not nearly enough to not mistreat him or use him as a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Jimmy is the rapist, Jimmy is the one who does all of these horrible things. And yet it's highly likely that Curly would just blame all of it on himself bc that's exactly what Jimmy did to him. He's in so deep he can't see the facts of the situation.

It takes abuse victims so long to come to terms with their abuse. It takes time and reflection to see things with an unbiased and healthy perspective. Abuse (especially years of it) isn't just something you can just escape. It consumes you and can twist your reality. Curly had about a week or less to process all of it and then take action in a way that protected his crew and abided by Pony Express' guidelines. Dealing with something this serious in a setting that makes resolving it extremely difficult in a practical sense is already hard.

There were no locks on any of the doors except for medical and the cockpit. They couldn't just kill him. There was nowhere they could detain Jimmy that wouldn't involve corporate potentially penalizing the entire group. They could have used the cryopods but then there'd only be three available for any actual emergency and there were already five crew members and four pods in total. Also, I doubt corporate would be 'okay' with them using the cryopods for anything other than their intended purpose. Hell, even if they were able to make it back to earth without any incidents there's a good chance that corporate would consider the situation 'poor team synergy' and collectively punish the entire crew for Jimmy's actions.

So on top of having to deal with an already difficult situation, Curly has to grapple with the realization that Jimmy a: abused Anya, b: has been abusing him as well (for a very long time too), and c: has probably abused others before Anya and he had no idea about it. He needed to act but he didn't and it doomed all of them.

But it's so unrealistic (maybe even cruel) to put that much pressure on someone, force them through an utterly earth-shattering realization, and then expect them to do the correct/right/responsible thing in that moment. It's a little ironic how people vilify him for that when other characters do the same thing that nobody blames for it.

Anya is the ship's nurse. Curly is the ship's captain. They both have duties and responsibilities on board the Tulpar. She has to keep the crew healthy and safe and is the only one with enough medical knowledge to do so. He has to make sure that everything goes well and goes according to procedure. He's responsible for the crew, the cargo, and even the ship itself. Both positions are integral and require a lot of responsibility to do properly

They're both put through distressing and traumatic situations where due to them being human people with emotions and fears that make them essentially avoid their responsibility/doing what's required of them.

Curly has a freeze response and doesn't act when he should have when it was crucial to have done so. Anya has a fawn response and essentially puts her patient in danger and harm's way. She knew full well what Jimmy was capable of. She experienced it herself and she witnessed it happening to Curly as well. And yet she allows Jimmy to be alone with Curly while being fully aware of how dangerous he is. Which she shouldn't have, that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. Keeping him safe was her responsibility.

But Anya's human. She's going through a lot at the moment. She's terrified of Jimmy and she's trying to appease him so he doesn't hurt her again. It's a natural very understandable thing to do even if it's not the 'right' or 'responsible' thing. They failed each other when they needed each other most and I think that's the most tragic part of it. If anything, all of them failed each other in some way, shape, or form.

So it's incredibly frustrating to see people give Anya so much sympathy and grace for doing something so human yet still 'wrong' but then turn around and give Curly none of that for doing essentially the same thing she does.

I don't know for sure if it's actually because Curly is a man or if it's only part of it or maybe some people just lack that sense of awareness but it's depressing and frustrating as fuck as a male victim of sexual violence and abuse to see this kind of behavior and this much victim blaming towards a character who is undeniably a victim of abuse like I am.

[brain-damage-culture]

I don't actually even need to have consumed the media the characters came from. In fact, I mostly read original projects and independent media. I don't particularly care about ships unless they further the story or dynamics. I'm just really fascinated by the kind of stories people make motivated by sheer love of a thing. If that thing is their blorbos then I'm happy to give it a try. If it's exploring or expanding a world, even better! AUs are so fun because then you get to be a witness to all kinds of thought experiments from the writers!

Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:

*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 3

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k

a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

Day 4

“Fuck.”

You think you’ve woken up in hell—it must be—because, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you can’t feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise it’s just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.

You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess you’ve become…

But after all that chaos, there’s only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.

You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.

2:56 p.m.

Just brilliant. Though, at least you’re spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that you’d be able to walk straight with how you’re feeling, but a win’s a win.

You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongi’s not blocking you, but if you’re up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like they’re fighting for dear life.

“S’alright,” you croak out, unable to manage much more.

“Painkillers.” Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof he’s still alive, though barely.

You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon rises—slowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though it’s anything but a straight line.

You’re the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. You’re not sure if it’s just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, you’re in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.

The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. You’re not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldn’t give a fuck, and neither can you.

When you’ve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel that’s too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here—not just in this town but on this entire trip. There’s no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.

So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. It’s the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could. 

It doesn’t stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkook’s old hoodie out of your luggage—or maybe you’re just too tired to care—as you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing you’d brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.

Jungkook’s already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. It’s not like you’re being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that you’re just not in the mood to interact at all.

You’re especially glad he doesn’t mention your—or rather, his—hoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isn’t lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodie’s hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.

If your life’s this miserable, you’re at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if it’s short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass. 

Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.

“Here,” he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like they’re sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fades—probably can’t be bothered to waste any energy as well. 

“Jimin brought food,” Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. “Should I get you some?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. “I’m good, thanks.”

Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldn’t care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. It’s on him now. You’ve seen and heard enough.

“Why did you leave the party so early?” he tries again.

“It was because of me, I just—”

You cut Namjoon off; he really doesn’t need to do this for you. “Stop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why?”

You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He’s bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but it’s not your problem if he’s anxious or whatever. “None of your business.”

Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like you’re the one who’s hurt him, he can go fuck himself. You’re not dealing with him right now. Not when he’s got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her. 

Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.

Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.

“Can I get a haaaawyeah?!” Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and you’re one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.

You’re not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hers—you know it’s got to be from Jin’s. 

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.

“Please, eat something. Your body needs it.”

She’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if it’ll somehow reveal yet another surprise you’re not ready for. You know it’s not Hara’s fault you’re feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.

Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkook’s eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.

You’ve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising he’d never fill it again. You just don’t have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you you’re no longer really part of it. Not properly.

You wonder if Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe he’s just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your health—maybe, you reason, it’s just because he doesn’t know how to be any other way and nothing more. 

But that’s the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And that’s why he’s going to be the best dad on this earth—just not to your children.

“I’m really not hungry.” You think you see Jungkook’s jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.

“I didn’t mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,” Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.

“Who?” you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other. 

“That woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,” Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.

“Was she any good?” Namjoon inquires, like it’s the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.

“What can I say? She taught me things I didn’t even know existed.”

Yep, that info’s enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkook’s expressions, they’re feeling the same.

“Want some?” you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away from…whatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well. 

He’s pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man. 

“Jungkook, you hungry?” Hara offers softly, and you can’t help but glance at him again. 

His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though it’s true—Jungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to food—you don’t really want to interact with him right now. But, some things haven’t changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him. 

Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourself—he’d never, like all those years ago, take food from you when it’s clear you’re barely eating yourself. But you just can’t, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.

Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think he’ll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.

Why he did it, you don’t know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.

“Can…uh…can someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?” you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.

Jungkook’s half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, I’ll just get ready.” You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.

Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you don’t know what you’d have done. Sure, you want him to be happy—you’re not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who are…were…close to you.

 But what about your happiness? Don’t you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, you’ll take every bit of help you can get, even if it’s just a lift to the petrol station.

You didn’t mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadn’t even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.

“C…can I help you?” You’re gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.

“Can I come in?”

It’s like something out of a nightmare, knowing you can’t turn her away just because Hara’s never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that she’s not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that won’t go away whenever you look at her.

So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with “looking” for your phone case, just so you don’t have to face her.

“Are you okay?”

Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesn’t. Just like the right answer isn’t coming to you now, not to her question.

Maybe you’re okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe you’re not. Either way, you’re definitely not making her your therapist—not when she’s involved in all this stupid mess. 

“Yeah, sure. Are you?”

“Yeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soon—it’s getting weird at this point.”

You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.

“How far along are you?”

“Seventeenth week…we’ll find out the gender soon.” There’s a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.

It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the baby’s gender and go a bit mad with shopping. You’re sure you’d be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.

You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. “Got a feeling what it’ll be?”

Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. “Yes? No? Maybe?” She laughs. “Some days I swear it’s a boy, and then others I’m convinced it’s a girl. Tomorrow’s the appointment, so…I hope mini-me reveals its gender and isn’t shy.”

You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongi’s to dry the case off.

“Hey…uh…I don’t quite know how to start this, but…I know you’re not doing alright.”

The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you don’t want a pep talk from her.

“Please, just talk to each other.”

Biting your lip, you really don’t want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t. He’s had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at all—and he’s used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk, not really, and you’re done waiting and being the one to start things.

“There’s nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.”

Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.

“It’s a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?”

You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe there’s some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didn’t do. Maybe it’s time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time that’s long gone.

“No.” You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Hara’s following, which she is. She’s right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you don’t flinch too visibly.

Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as you’re near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out what’s being said.

First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyung’s voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.

“I know! I know you’re a good driver. Just…”

“Just? C’mon, what’s going on with you, C?”

“Just… take care of her, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re acting like I’m some boy who’s just got his licence and can’t be trusted—”

The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkook’s eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where he’s still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.

“Why was my case out in the snow?” you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.

“You thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.”

Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. You’re just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.

“Right.”

“Stay safe, yeah?”

He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last night’s antics, there’s that quiet care in them only real family can have. 

“I will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.” You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.

Straightening up, you meet Hope’s eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you can’t keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried “thanks” and “bye” as you follow Hope to his car.

You wouldn’t have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least you’ll be safe—much safer than you’d be with Tony.

“So, how long’s the drive?” you ask, taking in the car’s interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.

“Maybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.”

You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighs—not only because they’re still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something you’d never be able to replace.

The car’s rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hope’s both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. He’s definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dad—the kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.

“So…would you be a kind soul and tell me what you’re all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?”

Of course you had to ask—why wouldn’t you, now that you’re alone with someone who’s clearly in on the whole scheme?

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno…maybe because of Namjoon.”

“Oh, I’m not scared of him.” Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes don’t stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.

“Sooo…?”

“So, you should just talk to C. That’s what we’re all talking about.”

“Wow, wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“So why’re you asking if that’s not the answer you wanted?”

You fall silent.

“Listen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.”

“There’s really nothing left to talk about.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s clearly moved on, no?”

Like, duh.

“Has he now?”

Duh?…

“Yeah, with Hara…and the baby on its way.”

Were you wrong all this time? It can’t be.

“Oh, boy…”

“Don’t ‘oh boy’ me.”

“Why do you think he’s with Hara?”

You’re trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. “It’s obvious.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like you’re seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.”

“Rude.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re really forward for someone I barely know.”

“We’re not strangers, __.” Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.

“Basically, we are.”

“No, we’re not friends yet, but we’re not strangers either.”

So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? He’s not exactly a friend anymore, but he’s not a stranger either. Or…maybe he is. God, your brain feels like it’s about to explode any minute now.

“People change, Hope. Jungkook’s changed.”

Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if he’s thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise there’s no sound from the engine, and you clock that he’s driving an electric car—even though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.

“Have you?”

You’re half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. You’ve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone you’re not that you haven’t really evolved into the person you could have been.

Anything really—maybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?

“Not sure.”

Hope just nods, not as if he’s simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. It’s uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.

“Listen, I’m not here to play mediator,” yep, definitely like Yoongi, “nor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re so positive.” You whine pathetically. 

“And you’re a chronic pessimist.” He mimics you. 

“I’m just cautious.” You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.

“No, you’re scared of what might never happen.”

Ouch. But he’s not…not right.

“I’m not. I’m doing snowboarding now, aren’t I?”

“So why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if you’re meant to be snowboarding all week?”

You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone else—including Jungkook—has seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?

“Gotcha,” Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Alright, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And I’d say you probably enjoyed everything else you’ve done before, too.” He glances over at you. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

You just give a noncommittal shrug.

“You need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? You’ll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everything…especially things with Jungkook.”

Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona. 

“I know it’s hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome could’ve been different if you’d just had a bit more faith.”

“Are you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?”

“Both.” He giggles again, and you can’t help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.

When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising you’d been slouching more and more throughout the drive.

Even though you’re not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, you’re glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.

Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.

“Here, I’ll go to the one right behind this one.” He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, you’re still confused.

“I only need one, though.”

He’s already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.

“Yeah, this one’s for me.”

You’re still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.

“Isn’t your car electric?”

“Yeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case there’s an outage and the baby’s coming.”

You freeze. Is Hope…? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkook’s not the baby daddy.

“You’re Hara’s baby daddy?” you squeak.

“Gosh, no!”

And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.

“Areum, my wife, she’s seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations.”

But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.

Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. You’re not exactly broke, but you’re worried your employer hasn’t transferred your pay on time. Again.

“I’m off to pay,” you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.

“Your card’s declined, miss.”

The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really can’t be happening.

“Could you…could you try again, please?”

The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you weren’t so mortified, you’d probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, “Just a second, please,” before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.

And sure enough, your banking app shows you’re completely drained. Fuck. So there’s only one option left, then.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Yo,” Yoongi grumbles, and you’re pretty sure you can hear Jungkook’s panicked voice in the background, asking what’s happened.

“I need your help,” you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but he’s already engrossed in his phone again.

“What do you need?”

“I’m short on cash. I can’t pay—”

“Why?”

Yoongi’s tone isn’t accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.

“My employer’s late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uh…it all just…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising you’re actually struggling, not just joking around. It’s not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe he’s apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you haven’t had these conversations before.

“S’alright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I can—”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

You hear him sigh—one that says, Don’t make this a thing now. Hope’s already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.

Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Should’ve told me sooner.

You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible. 

“Slow down, will you?”

You let go of his arm once you’re by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, “Sorry. God, I’m such a mess.”

“Come on, we’ll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.”

And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.

You know Hope doesn’t want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.

“My employer still hasn’t transferred my pay,” you mumble. “I had to call Yoongi to borrow money.”

Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.

“Again, as in this isn’t the first time?”

“Yeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.”

“Thousands?”

You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. “About fifty. Maybe a bit more.”

“No. Fucking. Way.” Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. “___, that’s insane. Fifty thousand?! Why haven’t you sued him? Or quit?”

“I…” Yeah, good question. “I actually don’t know.”

It’s not like it’s a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? That’s practically impossible without connections, which you definitely don’t have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.

“You’re an accountant, yeah?”

“How do you know?” you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile. 

“Oh, who d’you think told me?” He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. “Areum’s an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. They’re looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, soooo…”

“Sooo…?”

“Woman, I’m not spelling it out for you. You’re not that thick.”

Ouch. “Hey! Stop being so rude to me.”

“Then stop acting daft when you’re not.”

God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but he’s feisty as hell.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, knowing decisions like this aren’t made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mind’s about to shut down along with your eyelids.

Eventually, sleep takes over, and if you’re honest, you don’t bother fighting it.

“___, wake up.” Hope’s voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.

Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but it’s no use. You’ll need to brush your teeth as soon as you’re in the suite—there’s no way around it.

“Thanks for driving me,” you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. “What’s he doing outside?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

It’s a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as you’re clearly not on good terms. You’ve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that he’s not fed up by now is really baffling.

“I’m heading straight home if that’s okay.”

“Oh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldn’t overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. “Thanks again and goodnight.”

“Goodnight. And…talk to him.”

Well, you don’t really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.

“Here, let me help.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.

“I’ve got this.”

You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidating—hotly so—but you’re still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.

“What does it look like?”

He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise you’ve done the wrong side of Tony. 

How embarrassing.

“Don’t say anything.”

And he doesn’t, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.

Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.

“Talk,” you snap, wanting to get this over with—whatever it is that’s bothering him so much he’s biting his lip bloody.

Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while you’ve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.

“Why did you leave?”

You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. “When? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?”

Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but you’re now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.

“All of them, I guess.” He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.

“Jungkook, that’s a conversation I’m not having with you right now.”

“And when would be the best time for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when I’m batshit hungover, and especially not when you’ve built a new life for yourself.”

That last bit wasn’t really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that it’s indeed not the best time. 

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.

“Stop running away!”

“I’m not running away. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.

“You are running away.”

You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.

“Why did you need petrol for Tony, who’s been out of it for days? Why now?”

You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. You’re stubborn, but so is he, and you’re not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if you’re really running away from him? Well, you’ll prove him wrong.

“Safety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.”

There’s a familiar glint in his eyes—the one that says he knows you’re bullshitting him. God, you’ve missed this. Missed him.

“So, not fleeing the scene, hm?”

“Not fleeing the scene.”

And you’re not. Change of plans: you’re staying. You’ll stay, and you’ll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.

Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.

Usually, this would be the moment he’d tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?

“Goodnight, ___.”

You nod, and while you can’t quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you can’t help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.

Day 5

You feel good.

No, scratch that—you feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. There’s a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and you’re absolutely down for it.

Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, you’re busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoon’s buffet has on offer. You’ll definitely need it—not just because your body’s craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.

No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesn’t even realise you’re grilling him. You’re brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is over—here comes the new, improved you.

Though, if you’re honest, you know there’s a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. He’s always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, you’re determined to win.

Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hair’s damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didn’t dry off properly.

“Morning, Kook,” you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.

Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusion’s painted all across his face exactly as you’d hoped. Excellent.

“Morning.” He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, you’re doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.

“Did you sleep well, Kook?” He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.

“Uh, yeah, did you?”

“Of course! Snuggly kept me company all night.”

The confusion in Jungkook’s eyes deepens, and you’d give anything to know what’s running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though it’s getting harder by the second.

“So, what’ve you been up to these past five months?” If your math’s right, Hara’s now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, you’ve got your answer.

“Five months?” He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich he’s just thrown together. There’s far more ham than bread—probably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.

“Yeah, where’ve you all been, then?”

“Uh,” Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. “I’ve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh… before that, I was here for a few months.”

No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, weren’t so mixed after all.

“This town’s pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?”

“Well, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.”

“Hara’s birthday’s in August?”

“Yeah, why?”

So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising you’ve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you don’t let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down won’t help you now.

“Just asking.”

Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though you’re as blank as can be beneath your smile. It’s not that you’ve lost your determination to get through snowboarding—no, you’re way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as you’d been two days ago.

The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain won’t shut up.

You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, you’d grown tired of always feeling like you weren’t enough, of feeling like you were someone he didn’t really need.

You’d always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that he’d eventually grow out of it—that he’d grow out of it for you. Not that he’d never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.

Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though he’s going to be a dad—even if it’s not your child—you’d crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that you’d ever be a homewrecker; that’s something you’d never do, and you’ll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if he’s only going to be a father, if he’s only co-parenting with Hara and they’re not together, you’d try to make it work somehow.

Or maybe you’re just delusional, thinking you’d be okay with him having a kid that’s not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after you—even if you weren’t together anymore—makes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes. 

There’s nothing you can do about it; it’s not like you’re some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says he’d want to be with you again, there’s no chance if he had someone else in between.

Jungkook sniffs beside you, and you’re not exactly proud that, since learning he’s staying here at the hostel too, you’ve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and you’re not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.

“Thanks,” he’s smiling, though there’s still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to work out what you’re up to. “So, how about you?”

You’ve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know you’ll need to save your energy today, especially since you’re spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. “Nothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities I’ve tried.”

“It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“You doing all that stuff.”

Jungkook doesn’t look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looks…sad.

“Didn’t you want me that way?” You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.

“No.” The word slips from his lips without a moment’s hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. It just doesn’t make sense.

“I…why?”

He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than he’s actually saying. “That’s not you.”

You just stare at him, trying to understand why he’d want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesn’t like the person he’d pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, he’s right. It’s not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than you’d expected.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. You’re sure he doesn’t even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.

How many times you’ve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply can’t do either. 

You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. You’re able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. He’s fine. You’re fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that you’ll be fine too, even if it’s without him. Because that countdown in your head has shifted—from thinking you’ve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.

“So, today’s blue slope day?”

Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. “Yeah. You ready?”

“Sure. I was born ready.”

The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes you’ve always adored when he finally looks back up to you. 

“Then let’s head out, shall we?”

“Yes, sir!” You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americano—sneakily poured into a regular mug—in one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time. 

“Give me your board.” Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when you’re just a few feet away from Dionysos.

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”

Wondering whether you’re about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. It’s a nice gesture, and knowing his strength—which has clearly grown over the last few years—it’s no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful “thanks” and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.

“It’s such a lovely day.” You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.

The town’s not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. It’s easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos that’s crashed down on you since you arrived.

You’d like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.

It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, you’d still be with Jungkook, and you’d be not only happy but fulfilled.

“It is, the slopes should be perfect too.”

A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. He’s looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

His hair’s just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. You’ve always known how much Jungkook wants a family—he always has, just as you always did. It’s one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.

You knew back then that having different hobbies wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldn’t decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.

It wasn’t just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.

Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish you’d made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know they’re meant to be, like they’re soulmates, like they’re fated.

Jungkook’s eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. There’s still that adoration there—or is it just nostalgia? Or maybe it’s the inner peace he feels, knowing he’ll soon have a child of his own? You’re not sure, and you’re afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if it’s anything but adoration, you’d spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.

Switching your board to his other hand, where he’s already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesn’t even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like you’re a puzzle piece fitting into him. You can’t help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that you’ll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. “Me too.”

Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. It’s always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until it’s nearly unbearable.

How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisation—the overwhelming certainty—that he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply you’ll never find a way out.

Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.

“Let’s get it.” Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you don’t know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.

The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you can’t help glancing at his reflection.

Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hope’s words, still ringing loudly in your mind.

Fear is faith in the negative.

And you don’t want to live like that again—not now, and not when it’s just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incident—but you’ll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldn’t undo everything else he’s proven to you.

The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, he’s always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.

And while you’re laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.

Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time it’s a different one.

“There’s this restaurant way up there.” Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where he’s pointing. “The food’s amazing, and we’ll be able to take a way longer run down. It’ll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.

When you step into the gondola with a few others, it’s so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, there’s not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.

You frown. Even though it’s more comfortable this way, you don’t like it at all. If he’s with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, it’d be a dealbreaker.

The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You won’t start a scene now, not here; you’ll wait until you’re at the restaurant and talk things through.

When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.

It’s ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldn’t bring conflict, someone he wouldn’t feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like you’re still his, clinging to old habits like they’re the only things he has left with you. 

Maybe that’s the saddest part of all. He’s got everything he once told you he wanted, yet he’s still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe he’ll never fully move on, just like you haven’t, even if he thinks he has. But that’s not something you can fix. You tried—more than once—to help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasn’t the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; you’re done being the one to guide him there.

You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. You’re done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. He’s made his choices, back then and now too, and now it’s time for you to make yours.

You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longing—sure, it’s all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, it’s just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, that’s what you hope.

As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all. 

“You’re kinda touchy.” 

Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. “I always am.”

Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkook’s eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.

“Doesn’t it feel wrong to you?” You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.

Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.

“No?” He sounds uncertain, though there’s a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes.”

You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. “Is it because of Yoongi?”

Should you come clean and tell him you’re not dating Yoongi, that he’s just your cousin? But you can’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything now, you’re sure of that. Though you’re not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if it’s meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you don’t say anything more.

The tension between you feels like it’s growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but it’s no use.

“I never wanted to do all those things,” you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. “But I felt so…so unworthy…so empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.”

The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you don’t look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just can’t. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if it’s only a little.

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. “Not for someone else, at least.”

Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, he’s right, though those words would have made more difference if he’d said them years ago.

“Maybe you’re right.”

It’s unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and it’s not like you to keep so quiet, either. It’s not that you can’t handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.

“Was it easy?” Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.

“What was?”

“Moving on so fast…”

Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much he’s matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you weren’t there to share.

You’d always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.

The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didn’t even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope it’s not because of you.

“I never did, so I can’t say.”

You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking you’ll definitely do that later, once you’re back at the hostel tonight. 

More than half your plate is still full, but you can’t seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkook’s already finished his meal.

“You should eat more.”

“I’m full. I’ll just take it to go.”

And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting you’ll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.

Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.

“That’s odd,” Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. “Forecast didn’t mention a downpour.”

“What should we do?” Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.

Jungkook’s eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. “So, uh, there’s a thunder cell that’s come up out of nowhere, and there’s a warning for a severe snowstorm. But it’s all good. We still have time.”

Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, “Jungkook?”

“Alright, okay, maybe we don’t have as much time as I thought. We’re going to head down this way quickly, but safely.” He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the other—the black meaning it’s the most difficult and dangerous run there is.

“Okay.” You don’t sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills won’t count for much.

“Strap on your board. We need to go.”

And you follow his instructions because, at this point, there’s no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.

You’re terrified, and Jungkook’s focused, hurried pace isn’t doing much to settle your nerves.

“You’re leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.” 

You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.

“To the right!” you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.

“To the right, ___!”

You try, you really do, but you can’t seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, you’re pulled in the direction you don’t want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise it’s too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.

You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.

Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though you’re in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if it’s just for a while. 

“You’re doing good, keep going!”

And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you don’t want to go. But Jungkook’s right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the wind’s blasts and guiding you as best as he can.

It feels like an eternity—fighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if it’ll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.

“Try to stop!” Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.

“Now?”

“Now!”

You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully you’re barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.

“You good?” He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.

You nod, though you’re still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy. 

Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him. 

Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hut’s indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything. 

The hut’s not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.

“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!” He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.

You try to straighten yourself, though the ache’s nearly too much. “I… I tried. I… it…”

“You just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.”

The storm outside’s picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. “Oh, please, Jungkook. Don’t act like I’m the only one who doesn’t listen. You’ve got selective hearing when it suits you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Selective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.”

“Right, yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” you snap right back. “You still can’t even talk to me unless it’s about some bullshit like snowboarding.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.”

“I am! You didn’t even say one word before I left!” you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.

“Oh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldn’t wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!”

“Yoongi’s my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.”

Jungkook’s face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness you’ve never seen before. Though you’re sad too, you’re hollow too, and so you continue, “Don’t pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.”

His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, “I never slept with her. She’s Jin’s wife.”

You feel like you’re falling, falling so hard and fast you can’t stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt you’ve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.

If you weren’t this close to Jungkook, you’d think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place. 

“You moved on,” you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.

“I haven’t.”

How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.

But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what it’s like to be separated, to learn how to communicate… but have you really? You reckon you haven’t, not given how things went down. Maybe it’s too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.

“Let’s… let’s call for help.” You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and you’re sure he needs time to process the bomb that’s just dropped.

“Yeah,” he’s taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. “My phone’s dead. How about yours?”

By now you’ve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.

Lighting up the screen, you see your phone’s battery miraculously still well over 90%, but there’s absolutely no signal. “Nope, no signal. We’re stranded.”

Just as you’re about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. “You still got the case?”

You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you can’t quite place.

“Uh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.”

You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did can’t be undone with one revelation.

“I lost it… my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after we…”

You hum and nod because what else is there to do?

“Why did you keep it?”

Your eyes stray from your phone, where you’re running your thumb over one of Jungkook’s doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though he’s not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.

“I can’t get rid of memories. You should know that.”

“Even if they’re bad?” He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way he’s slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what you’ve done to him.

“They aren’t bad.”

Jungkook nods a few times, as if he’s trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.

Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see what’s inside.

“No way.” He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though it’s no use.

When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.

“That’s like hitting the jackpot.” You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. “Can you light the fireplace too?”

Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadn’t spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, he’s off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.

Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that there’s only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’ve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and you’re both clearly single, so there’s nothing your conscience can protest about.

Still, time has passed, and you’ve clearly drifted apart more than you would’ve liked. It’s an unusual situation you’re in, an emergency really, and you’ll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.

“Got a lighter on you?”

You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongi’s cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling he’s set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.

Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hut’s heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longer—by now, they’ve cut off all circulation in your feet—you pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.

You’re absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise it’s already past dinnertime.

“You can join me, you know?” you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an “okay” and starting to peel off his gear too, though you don’t miss the flush creeping up to his ears.

How endearing he can still be.

The bed’s clearly not meant for two—especially not when Jungkook’s become this buff. He’d probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though you’re fairly petite next to him, you’re both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, it’s better than freezing to death outside.

“I’m so tired,” you yawn.

“I’m so hungry.”

The pout on Jungkook’s face makes you giggle; it’s just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff he’s gone.

You don’t comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesn’t engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that you’d admit it, but you’re a bit sad he didn’t do it again.

“You hungry too? It’s your food.”

“I’m good, Jungkook, please just eat.”

You’re starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when you’re genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m not hungry, promise.”

With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute. 

“You can sleep if you want.” Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.

“I’m still cold,” you mumble sleepily, though there’s no chance you’ll really fall asleep while you’re still shivering like this. The storm’s really taken it out of you.

Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise he’s finished eating and is lying down facing you. “Turn around.”

Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while it’s hard to look away from him—the slope of his nose, the Cupid’s bow of his lips making them almost too inviting—you fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until there’s no space left between you.

Heart racing like a hummingbird’s wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though you’re bare. You’d seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you can’t seem to stop.

You haven’t noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, haven’t noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkook’s breath hits your ear.

“Sorry,” you breathe, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know you’ve stepped through a door that should’ve been left closed.

Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more. 

His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck that’s bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know won’t be put out easily.

Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.

The low moans slipping from Jungkook’s throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.

“Jungkook…” you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.

Thinking you’ve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than you’ve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. It’s been years, your body’s changed, and while you know it shouldn’t matter, you still hope he doesn’t notice.

In a blink, he’s back, resuming where he left off, though now it’s his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cock—hard and oh so hot—against the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.

You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.

Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what you’re looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body. 

You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chain’s grazing your tits with every shift of his body.

“I don’t have a condom. I could…eat you out.”

His thigh pressing against you doesn’t lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after you’d started dating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have wanted it, but you’d both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. You’d be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he? 

“I’m clean, on the pill.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you. So clean.”

Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still can’t help but pull back, needing to see his face.

“You haven’t?”

“No.” His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.

“Me too.”

“Fuck.” He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.

The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.

Jungkook’s free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

It’s when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet. 

A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than you’ve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.

Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks. 

“Think you can take it?”

“Yes,” you mewl, not caring if you couldn’t. You’ll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.

Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but it’s forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.

The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. He’s so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of. 

You’ve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkook’s skin? That’s your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until he’s so far in that you can’t tell where he starts and you end.

“Oh my god,” you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook is—and everything he’s become.

He’s unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray. 

Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, you’re sure he’s thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest. 

And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, you’re not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him on—to make him pinch harder.

Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.

“Jungkook, I’m so close, oh my god.”

The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.

You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, that’s all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.

In this moment, it’s like you’re finally whole—not just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while you’ve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.

“You’re…” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.

But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.

Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. It’s as though you feel what he’s trying to say—but somehow, you don’t.

There’s still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just can’t seem to go away, and you’re sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence. 

And then, all that’s left is pain.

He hasn’t kissed you, and you didn’t kiss him either.

And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed. 

Dresses as if he’s ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found. 

The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering that’s returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.

Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between. 

And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.

Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.

Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isn’t anymore.

Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

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[dorabellingham]

La Liga

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you're celebrating the la liga trophy, but he's really drunk and keeps asking you to marry him

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a party night at the stadium, and Real Madrid had just won the La Liga championship. The team, the fans, everyone was cheering, but no one seemed happier and more relaxed than Jude. He was completely overcome with euphoria, hugging everyone who passed by —players, journalists, staff, it didn't matter who it was, he just wanted to share his happiness.

With a bottle of whisky in one hand and the La Liga trophy in the other, Jude danced and sang as if the world was watching (and it was). His smile was so wide it seemed permanent, and his laugh was contagious. When the background music changed to a lively funk, he wasted no time in starting to dance, with exaggerated steps and movements with the clumsy and fun touch of someone who was clearly a few glasses too many. In the midst of all this joy, he suddenly spotted you, who were there backstage, waiting for the right moment to congratulate him. Jude's eyes shone even brighter when he saw you, and he practically dropped the trophy, walking towards you with a passionate smile.

—BABE!

He shouted from the other side of the field, running towards you and, in the middle of the path, almost tripping over his own legs.

Arriving at your side, he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong smell of whisky in the air. Without letting go of you, he began to speak, the words coming out in a slurred and exaggerated way.

—Y/n, you are... you are the most incredible woman in the world! —He declared, his hands cupping your face adoringly. —Marry me? Please! I love you, I'm crazy about you!

You laughed, trying to keep your composure in front of your clearly drunk husband and the cameras that recorded every second of that moment.

—Jude, we're already married!

You reminded him, trying unsuccessfully to hide your amused smile.

But that didn't seem to make a difference to him. Jude continued with the scene, his eyes shining and his tone of voice rising even higher.

—No, no, babe! I want to marry you again! I need to hear you say ‘yes’!

He pulled one of your hands and, on his knees, began to make a dramatic marriage proposal right there, in the middle of the field, while the reporters around filmed and laughed.

—Y/n, my love! Marry me again, will you? Please?

He begged, reaching out to you, as if it were the first time.

You tried to contain your laughter, shaking your head in denial.

—Honey, no. Come on, get up. We’re already married!

You looked around, noticing that the reporters were absolutely amused by the situation, and gently patted his hand, trying to get him to stand up.

It was then that, to everyone’s shock and surprise, Bellingham, with the expression of a devastated man, began to cry. Yes, cry! He put one hand to his face, covering his eyes, and grabbed the microphone from a reporter standing next to him, his voice cracking.

—I WAS REJECTED! —He announced dramatically, as if he were on stage. —She doesn’t want to marry me! Everyone saw it… she doesn’t love me anymore! —He looked at the microphone and repeated it, so there would be no doubt. —Are you seeing this? My wife doesn’t want to marry me again!

The reporters tried to hide their laughter, some barely able to keep the cameras focused. You, in turn, had your hands on your face, laughing and in disbelief at the show your drunk husband was putting on. You bent down to him, trying to whisper:

—Jude, honey, everyone’s watching! Get up, go…

He ignored you completely, turning to the camera with a martyr’s expression.

—She doesn’t love me, guys. Here I am, winning La Liga, and my wife… rejects me.

He sighed theatrically as the camera focused on his face.

The crowd in the stands, who were already laughing and applauding the scene, began to scream, encouraging Jude. And he, of course, loved the encouragement, raising his fist in the air, as if he were ready to fight for that love right there.

You, still laughing, pulled him by the arm, finally managing to lift him up.

—Come on, you dramatic! Let's go home.

But he seemed unable to let the moment pass. Hugging you tightly, he lifted you in the air, spinning you around as he continued to speak towards the microphone he was still holding.

—I love this woman! She is everything to me. My wife... and the most beautiful of all!

The crowd applauded, and Jude, finally satisfied with the show he had put on, gave you a loud kiss on the cheek and finally handed the microphone back to the reporter, laughing at his own situation.

As they left the field, with his arms around her and his eyes shining, Jude whispered:

—But you’ll marry me again one day, right?

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

—We’re already married, love. Come on, let’s go home before you even ask the trophy to marry you.

[raven0usravi0lii]

I do not like the terms canon and fanon when applied to creepypasta because. Nnnoooo. There is no canon Sorry. There's no end. It's just a bunch of stories YOU mash together. If people want to make Jeff a crybaby or something who cares. If people want to say toby loves waffles who cares. Masky is Incrrredibly off the mark? Guess what. Who cares. If people want to say oohh it's gritty and bloody and gorey who cares. That's why jeff (I only know his) and everyone else has so many different last names. Jeff Woods. Jeff Hodek. Jeff Mason. Jeff Blalock. Blackwood. Sure. The second you start hating on other peoples interpretations of Any character get OUT!!! OuT I SAY. OUT!!!! and this INCLUDES GACHA LIFE. AND THE BAD FICS. AND THE INCORRECT QUOTES. AND THE DEVIANTART COMICS. AND GRITTY SLENDERVERSE SERIES. AND THE DARKER STUFF. AND THE GOREY ART. AND THE CUTESY ART. AND THE FUN ART. AND THE STUFF THAT SAYS THE CREEPYPASTAS ARE HORRIBLE PEOPLE. AND THE ONES THAT JUST SAY THEYRE MISUNDERSTOOD. AND THE REWRITES. AND THE ONES THAT TRY TO STICK BY THE ORIGINAL MATERIAL AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. AND THE ONES THAT SAY EVERYONE LIVES TOGETHER IN THE MANSION HAPPILY AND THE ONES THAT DON'T. ALLLL OF IT. I LIKE ALL OF IT. I THINK ALL OF IT IS BEAUTIFUL AND TRUE. AND I LIKE THAT SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE DIFFERENT IDEAS FOR HOW THESE GUYS CAME TO BE. BECAUSE THATS FLIPPING EPIC SAUCE DUDE. I DONT LIKE PEOPLE GOING "Erm that's fanon mine's better" BECAUSE IT HAPPENED TO ME LIKE A WEEK AGO. AND I'M STILL SALTY ABOUT IT. NO. WE ARE ON AN EQUAL PLAYING FIELD. WE BOTH LIKE CREEPYPASTA. WE ARE COMRADES.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wicked game

summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k

You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.

So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.

"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"

"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.

"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"

"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.

"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."

"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"

"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.

"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.

"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.

"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.

"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.

"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.

But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.

You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.

Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.

"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.

"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."

Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.

"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.

"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."

Gee, so aggressive.

"Did I ever do something to you?"

"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.

You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.

"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."

"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."

"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.

"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.

"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."

"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.

"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."

"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.

Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.

"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."

"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.

"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.

And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.

You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.

During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.

During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?

Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.

"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.

"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.

"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."

"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"

"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.

"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."

"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."

Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.

"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.

"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.

Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.

"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.

"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.

"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.

"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.

"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.

Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.

"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...

"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.

What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.

"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.

"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.

"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.

"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.

"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."

"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."

"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."

And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.

"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...

Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.

And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.

"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.

"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.

This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.

"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.

"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.

But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."

"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."

He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.

Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.

Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.

Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.

The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.

See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.

Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.

You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.

Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.

But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.

He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.

"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.

Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.

Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.

"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."

"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.

He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.

When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.

"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"

Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.

"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.

"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.

"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."

Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.

"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"

"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."

And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.

This is the worst day of your life.

Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.

With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.

As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.

So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.

As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.

"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.

"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."

"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"

"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."

"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.

"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.

"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.

"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."

Mark nods, agreeing.

"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.

"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.

Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.

"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."

And you start singing.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.

When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.

"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.

"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.

"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."

"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.

"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.

"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."

"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."

"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."

"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.

"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."

"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.

"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."

"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.

And you finally, truly mean it.

The End

[outrunningthedark]

Maybe it's because I'm done with Oliver, but he needs to stop.

His absolute fear of upsetting a toxic side of the fanbase makes things harder on Ryan, not easier. Then Ryan has to say what he said and Ryan has to call it out. Ryan has to repeatedly explain why he thinks a relationship between a straight character and bisexual is important. Ryan has to talk about his real life experience. Then Ryan gets called homophobic when people finally get it.

Oliver isn't being progressive, he's being a coward

Ryan's answers are more thoughtful and real.

Oliver is just a grown man afraid of his own shadow. Why I ever thought the man of vague would have the bravery required to represent a queer storyline and make sure it avoided stereotypes. 😒

I’m gonna share this response to the post we’re discussing because I think they’ve hit the nail right on the head:

Oliver’s entire career revolves around 9-1-1.

He’s auditioning for other roles. And not getting them. He has no following other than the fans who love him for playing Buck. It just so happens that said fans also tend to be shipping his character with his on-screen BFF.

Ryan?

Ryan doesn’t give a damn, first of all, but he’s gotten a couple movie roles since 9-1-1. He’s on magazine covers and podcasts and giving interviews about his interests outside of his role on 9-1-1. About his upbringing, his culture. (Don’t forget that part!)

And even though 9-1-1 could probably be considered his biggest role because of the optics, he still has stories from his days working with Jennifer Lopez or the cast of Step Up.

Ryan’s life is bigger than this one show.

For Oliver…it’s become all he knows.

[blu-xp]

ok i wanna yap abt WL ep 4 specifically abt scarian so im gonna

i know scar never plays into the "angry revenge skeeker" type character in the life series and even when he has targets he always keep his character light hearted and straight forward, which i appreciate! but it's so silly that after grian blows up his rep board and says to his face that they're enemies and he will kill him and Jimmy when he gets the chance all he has to respond with is pretty much "nah u love me too much to rly hate me :J"

like this feels so much like some silly couple banter over actual scarian angst BECAUSE scar remembers everything since he won SL it's less off "Oh scar really just thinks grian couldn't hate him so much" it's "we've been through this before we've danced this dance i know grian more than I know myself" and I LOVE IT

grian claims their enemies and while yes I fully believe grian will forever hold that grudge against Jimmy at the very least I don't think he truly means that he'll ever target scar unless fully prompted to

and! if he did end up targeting scar! I really feel like Scar would brush it off like he has been and just smile his silly smirk

plus how many times already this season has it seemed like the bamboozlers and sub oners were gonna become enemies?? and technically haven't? they live right on top/underneath one another itd be pretty tricky staying enemies with someone who lives in your basement

then again if I'm being honest it doesn't really seem like anyone's made true enemies (yet) so who knows maybe next week's episode will make me eat my words

anyways tldr I'm still crazy about scarian i never left that desert

[miserablegrip]

THIS. Some people are so dumb that they deny the fact of assault at all, because otherwise Jimmy isn't that "interesting" of a character with gray morals. I'm sure such people consider Lolita to be a love story.

If you think Jimmy is in any way a good person YOU DIDN'T PASS THE TEST.

God people are willing to justify IMAGINARY RAPISTS. HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW ABSURD YOUR WHOLE WORLDVIEW IS??

Mouthwash is not made for fandom culture at all. I don't understand why people feel the need to do it in the first place. This game raises questions and topics that are interesting to discuss, for what do I need your au where everyone is doing well. And to erase or censor Jimmy is fckn ridiculous.

I remember when I first saw conversations about this game, and because of the way people portrayed it, I thought it was gonna be about toxic cannibalistic yaoi. EVEN THOUGH THE CANNIBALISM THEME IS SO MINOR? WHY??? WHY PEOPLE WERE SO FIXATED ON THAT???

I genuinely think Mouthwashing fandom is a good example on how real life misogyny is very wired on people brains and influenced how they engage with fictional misogyny.

You have a story about a woman being assaulted and telling a man he trusted but being dismissed because he is friends with the attacker, and people fixate on shipping her with either of those men.

You have a story about how men that downplay their male friends violence, assume neutrality is the safer option, unintentionally help create an environment that's unsafe to vulnerable people, at a risk becoming a victim themselves. And people make it about toxic yaoi.

You have a character kill herself because she didn't want birth the child of her abuser. And people make AUs where she happily keep the baby.

Misogyny isn't just "I hate this women", it's also downplaying their trauma, defending those who caused it, and reducing them to mothers or wives against their wished under this idea of what womanhood is about.

I don't think we can separate fandom misogyny from it's real world influence, not yet.

[bokutosbabe]

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[silent-stars-clan]

had enough energy while recovering for some quick headshots, so i did a spin on that 'give me 6 clangens' thing & just drew some characters from different comics i've read & been inspired by c:

left > right, top down:

WILDFIRECRY (@loudclan-clangen) - im still not recovered from You Know What but his revenge bit was both badass and cathartic. the artists who can commit to character deaths are always really impressive to me!

HERONSTAR (@juniper-clan) - i've been dying to draw heron since she got her adult glo-up, i think her design is really fun. simple & strikingly effective! her very specific fur design was a nice challenge (i hope i got it right).

SNAILSTEP (@snailstep-and-her-clan) - i couldn't not draw the titular girl, especially when she inspired me to start this blog!! i really love her wild mane of fur so much & it was delightful to draw.

RUNNINGSTAR (@darkest-before-dawnclan) - i had a hard time picking just one character since they're all so interesting & well designed... but i ended up going with an as-yet only briefly shown character bc i really vibed with him!

VANILLABRIGHT (@moons-of-dewclan) - i don't know if i could ever do these characters justice, but dewclan is a longtime fav, and i love seeing other adult warriors fans, haha. i know the comic is kind of on hiatus, but i look forward to seeing whatever comes next!

CLOWNWISH (@circus-clangen) - absolutely a must-draw here, the setup for this clan is so unique & fun & the puzzles are just so creative! i haven't solved a single one bc i suck at puzzles, but still a huge inspo for me.

i'm always excited to see what other clangens pop up in the tags, i know most of these are more popular ones, but i'm hoping i get to draw fanart of some off the lesser-known ones soon!

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) wherever u go i won't be far to follow

𝜗𝜚 BLUE LOCK VARIOUS: LILLIES.

a/n: [fem!reader] GAIS GAIS GAIS dew we fw the bllk posts 🤤it seems yes!!!!!! sorry for the tag !!@infpdoll @amelielovess for u<3

— characters: chigiri, rin, bachira

part one ! ♡ isagi, kunigami, nagi, reo

chigiri hyoma ; H.S.K.T - leehi, wonstein

can we imagine him sitting on the bathroom counter as you gently massage the jade roller across his face after a face mask. his hair is freshly washed (you brushed it 100 times on each side) so the room smells like peony and coconut, shower is foggy and little bits of his crimson baby hairs seeping out of his headband (〃´𓎟`〃) don't forget to kiss his forehead!!!!!!!!

gives the best?? massages???? maybe it's because of his high maintenance leg, used to doing it on himself so when you groan in pain after a scenic date, he most definitely wastes no time rubbing all the sore out of your legs

PEAK of his day is when he first wakes up and you guys brush your teeth next to each other, he knows sooner or later he'll be under your grasp as your thumb lightly rubs under his eye, rubbing away all excess sleep while your other hand runs through his hair.

secret kpop stan chigiri... totally not self-projecting HUH WHAT WHO SAID THAT what is a kpop stan uhm ! is a gg stan, gets defensive when someone discredits his faves and most DEFO a kiss of life (julie biased), le serrafim (sakura biased) and itzy (yuna biased) fan. probably owns a twt fan acc, i said what i said 🥰

by the way, don't tell him you notice when blush graces his face when you delicately graze the side of your finger across his lashes.

rin itoshi ; soft spot - keshi

rin itoshi who goes completely quiet when it comes to you. not because he secretly doesn't like you or anything, but quite the opposite (=´∇｀=) ! when he sees you, he's completely speechless and ends up staring at the girl who just stole his heart (for an uncomfortably large amount of time). when he sees almost anybody, he always has some sort of venom to spit but when he sees you, he can barely find any words for love 🥹

FACE MASK VICTIM NO.2 !!!!! lowkey flinches a little (affectionate) because he more used to the hot eye masks he gets at the convenience store, when the cold peach mask makes contact with his face, he gets a lil shiver nd' it's the cutest thing

idc how generic i sound HORROR MOVIE DATES!!!!!!!! i'm so here for horror nerd rin, i find it the cutest thing on earth and i just just just. waiter waiter one glass of rin please ! if you're scared (me), he tells you when there's a jump scare and covers your eyes when there's gore or when there's a freakazoid on screen

loves to sit in silence and play horror games too, whether it be the bathhouse, platform 8, as long as it's with you <3 secret valo/splatoon sweat

face scrunch when you push his bangs back n' give him a peck at the crown of his hair (;´□｀)/! not a physically affectionate guy but with instincts as sharp as his you wonder why he just lets you pepper his face with kisses...

baby face.

bachira meguru ; never ever getting rid of me - waitress, the musical

HUGS FROM BEHIND!!!🥹 puts his hands in front of your eyes and tells you to "guess who!!!" but not in a super senior way but more like a "y/nie y/nie guess who guess who!!!!!" way. he's such a cutie patoot i'm dead

music taste range is INSANNEEE biggest fan of babymetal, knows every lyric to hitorie or 2019 genre gacha sabrina carpenter die-hard, white girl radio enjoyer i don't make the rules (me too bachira, me too.)

LOCKS IN AT THE ARCADE (he hasn't won anything yet. key word YET!!). his attention span per machine is very limited but tries his absolute hardest into getting a plush he noticed your eyes wouldn't stray from and stays there for a while, persuaded he's guaranteed to get it. "look, look y/n!!! it's right there i'm sure i can get it. one more try?" same with gachapons. how can you not love this man

PDA lowkey isn't a thing and tackles you when he feels fit. loves to spin you around and does not give a damn if you have two left feet, an unconditional loverboy and is just the cutest (precious) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

i am going to bake him into a cupcake.

matching absolutely everything!!! keychains, exchanged shoe laces, patches, bracelets. on the topic of fashion he love love loves when you wear things that are a little odd (this is for the fashion girlies) like mismatching tights, oddly coloured charms on necklaces and/or chunky glasses :3

finds minion facebook memes and laughs.

[koralcove]

okay, but like... the thought of sylus and xavier of how they generally are in bed... like, i think some ppl get them swapped up, coz like...

everyone's saying that sylus is such a beast in bed and would absolutely demolish you until your legs feel like you'd need to go through physical therapy to walk again... and they're absolutely right.

BUT

i also hear those who say that sylus is an absolutely soft and sensual lover in bed, and honestly, that version speaks TRUTH. because, HAVE YOU SEEN THAT MAN WITH US?! the way his character progresses with becoming absolutely, indescribably, adoringly soft with us. the big bad, dark and mysterious, cold-blooded, ruthless leader of onychinus is willing to do things out of his element just because we think it's fun. you want matching cute onesies? he's already purchased a pair for us. you want to go take silly photos together and hang out in an amusement park where he could be publicly seen doing mundane and questionably harmless activities that personally don't look like it suits his style? if that's what you want, then he's not opposed to it.

that man is absolutely soft with us, and you can't tell me that he wouldn't prefer to make sweet, deep, lovin' with his darling. the way he'd want to be pressed impossibly close to you, your body so soft against him, taking every bit of effort to not rush into this intimate moment with you because he wants to feel every inch of your skin tracing on his fingertips. he wants to prolong the sensation of your warmth radiating to him, shushing your whines with his deep baritones of, "there there, sweetie. no need to rush, i'm not going anywhere," always with that teasing lilt in his voice, but it can't cover up the adoration spilling out of him.

and god, he'd be gentle with you. he knows you can take what he gives you, knows what you're capable of. but damn, he couldn't resist giving you all that gentle devotion because you're just so precious to him. and through all the rough edges of his living, he wants to give you something tender. wants to bare how putty you make him just from your presence alone. he doesn't think of it as a weakness. in fact, it fuels his fire of making sure to stake his claim on you properly by giving you all you deserve. and he always sets the pace. wants you to feel how absolutely weak-kneed you make him in an imitation of his light touches that set small sparks of desire on your skin, pressing searing kisses on you as an invisible brand until he finally gives in to the lust gnawing at him, but making sure to always, always, be careful with you.

and then, there's xavier...

xavier with his cherub-like features that you think can do no harm if you didn't know him well enough. with how he looks like a constantly clueless puppy that you can easily please with the temptation of a nap time, you'd think he'd be the type to go with some lazy, intimate love making with you while you're both half-awake... which is not wrong, really, but that's just the tip of the iceberg.

as someone who goes with the flow, xavier is not opposed to anything you would suggest, even if the idea itself seems outlandish, then that boy is down (just like how down bad he is for you). you wanna be on top? cool, no problem with him being the pillow princess. you want him to take you from behind? he'll give you an absolutely mind-blowing back shot. but the kicker with xavier is that he's an absolute FREAK (we talkin' abt neck-breaking freaky deaky shit), and i love how everyone collectively agrees on that. because there's just smth abt a man who appears so unbothered by a lot of things, always cool in faces of plight (and girl, his heartbeat is literally slow, does nothing ever faze him???) that the thought of him going wild is just a big ol' WOWZA. AND PAIRED WITH THAT INNOCENT LI'L PUPPY FACE OF HIS?! oh honey, i'm already unzipping your pants for you-

and honey, his strength... his stamina?! girl, he be the kind to go at it alllll night. "once isn't enough" ALREADY SAYS A LOT. and that man is not shy at all, because you can't tell me that he whispers absolute filth in your ear, catching you off guard at how uncharacteristic it seems of him, but it flows so smoothly through his tongue that you just have to wonder what kind of thoughts run through his head when he's with you, because rn, as he's pounding you silly against the mattress, hips pistoning into you at lightning speed, yet still hitting oh so deep into you, he's absolutely insatiable for you. and he would not hesitate to go all out on you as long as he knows you can handle it. because he knows it can be too much. but when he sees those tears streaming down your cheeks from how good his dick is at making you see stars, shaking under him as you grip onto his arm, he couldn't resist with bullying your poor overstimulated body and getting an orgasm out of you just one more time out of... maybe three? seven? he's lost count.

but don't get me wrong, xavier is still the type to be skin-achingly intimate with you. loves how you're pressed against him as you both lazily rock your hips against one another. but it just so happens that he's a absolutely ravenous with you as well, rutting into you like a bunny in heat.

with sylus, love making with him is tender, reverent, but never losing that intensity, while xavier is absolutely uninhibited and would even lose track of the amount of times you've already cummed for him.