#Ugh I love her. She's complicated all the time. Shes sad and worried all the time because of her and Rose's background. It's why

[aprilsprincess]

you are in love | cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 1)

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Cedric was content with what he had. He was prefect, quidditch captain and the unspoken partner of yours. He wouldn't want to risk a thing with you because everything is so good as it is. But when other students are thrown into the equation, at the end of the day, is he truly yours?

warnings: two dummies in love, reader is a Gryffindor

word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first fic published so I'm nervous!! But I'm going to try to make multiple parts for this one because it was just getting too long and I have so many ideas for Cedric (bc we were robbed!) Also not proofread! ₊˚⊹♡

Fred pushed the list of self made “Prettiest Girls at Hogwarts” in the new first years’ faces. The tiny moving portraits of the Hogwarts girls looked a little silly in the first years’ minds but the twins insisted that pictures solidify their case.   

“These are who you lot should be aiming for,” he stated with confidence, utterly prideful of the list, “aside from y/n of course, she’s off limits.” 

“Off limits? She said she didn’t have a boyfriend while she toured us though?” a small first year girl chirped. The twins exchanged a knowing look before chuckling slowly. 

“The beautiful Gryffindor prefect, my little unknowing friends, is off limits because ah, right on time as usual” George dramatically cocked his head in your direction.  

You had been eating your breakfast alone quite peacefully when you felt someone in yellow dawned robes slip into the open seat beside you. 

“Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff prefect, quidditch seeker-“ 

“And captain” George sang. 

“And just all around dream boy. All the girls think he’s bloody fit.” Fred concluded. 

“He has kind of an unspoken dibs on y/n. Has had one since last year when they became prefects. No one has even tried to make any advances on her cause of it.” 

“Why’s that?” the first years were now all huddled close to the twins, listening with intense interest. 

Fred rolled his eyes, “because look at the bloke!” A couple of students from neighbouring tables looked curiously in the direction of the loud proclamation. Looking around he leaned in closer to whisper, “Rumour has it he’s planning to put his name in for the Triwizard Tournament this year too. He’s as fit they come!” 

“Not to mention he’s so bloody nice that you can’t even hate the bloke for being so perfect.” George finished as the rest of the table nodded along, absorbing the precious information. 

“He’s not perfect you know.” Everyone whipped their head to see Hermione chiming in, not even looking up from her books. 

“If he was the dream boy you all say he is, they would’ve been together by now. Personally, I think he’s too comfortable for his own good.” 

“What’d you mean by that Hermione?” Fred asked. 

She shut her book with a thud and sighed, “Yes he’s attractive in all ways, but how long do you reckon he’s going to keep stringing her along like that? He’s been flirting with her for as long as he’s known her but won’t do anything about it. It’s sad really.” 

The twins paused while exchanging confused looks, not understanding what was so sad about the two perfect prefects’ relationship. 

“Ugh, boys!” Hermione, exasperated, gave up and opened the thick novel to continue her literature. 

It’s not like Cedric didn’t like you. He liked everything about you, but Hermione was right, he was comfortable with how things were. He wasn’t cocky, not in the slightest, but he was always far from worried when it came to you and other guys at the school. Everyone knew about you two, so he’s never been challenged for your attention. He in all honesty, guiltily enjoyed the lack of complication that the two of you had when it came to your relationship status. There wouldn’t be anything to lose if he didn’t start anything, so he stayed in his comfort with you. 

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“Morning y/n!” Cedric’s presence instantly made you feel relaxed and warm. 

“It’s such a pleasure seeing you here at my house’s table this morning Diggory.” you teased. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Cedric to join you at the Gryffindor table, but he usually felt that as a prefect, sitting at his own house table was almost a requirement. 

“I came bearing quite honourable and exciting news y/n,” he was beaming, so excited that it seemed like he was going to jump out of his seat, “I’ve decided to do it this year. I’ve officially made up my mind that I’m going to throw my name out for the Triwizard Tournament.” 

He was ecstatic, to say the least, and it was difficult for you to match his energy as you had just heard the worst news you could’ve expected from him. The Tournament has had students die while participating, so it wasn’t surprising that you didn’t want the boy you cared so much about to have a chance at it. 

He caught onto your uncertainty fairly quickly; you were obviously smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. He let out a breath and carefully reached for your hand. 

“I know that you may feel hesitant about it but believe me, I know the risks but there is so much for me to gain from this experience. So please trust in me y/n.” his pleading eyes were too difficult to resist. 

“I do, I do trust you Cedric,” you mustered as much support as you could in that moment, “the Goblet would be stupid not to choose such a fine competitor.” Your words seemed to satisfy Cedric as he jumped out of his seat, gave you a quick kiss atop of your head and sped off to the Hufflepuff common rooms. 

He had made his mind up and the only thing you could possibly do was to try to hex that stupid over-gloried cup in your mind as you prayed to Dumbledore for Cedric’s name not to be pulled.  

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The news that students from other schools were coming to Hogwarts excited the masses. It wasn’t every day they got to see such new faces. Especially faces as attractive as the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students. 

Everyone was bursting with excitement in the Great Hall, awaiting anxiously for the foreign students to arrive. You on the other hand were busy glancing at Cedric who was chatting happily with his housemates. 

“You’re staring you know.” Hermione’s deadpan voice made your head turn to face her, your eyes lingering just a second longer on the Hufflepuff table. 

“Honestly y/n, we have some of the greatest wizarding students coming in for a tournament that only happens every five years and your focus is on Diggory? Merlin y/n if anything, focus on the OWLs instead.” Hermione wasn’t annoyed, but instead truly baffled as to how you could easily ignore such a large celebration for one boy. 

You held up your hands in defense, but before you could retort, Dumbledore had already started introducing the new guests. 

The vision of blue overwhelmed your senses and you were stunned for a second, only being snapped back to reality by the hollering of the surrounding boys. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to see Cedric’s reaction to the Beauxbaton girls, but the rowdiness of the male students blocked your vision. Sinking back in your seat pouting, you wondered if Cedric was enjoying this as much as the other boys were. I mean, Ron was practically drooling. You didn’t have much time to sulk over the issue as you got simultaneously shoved on both sides by Hermione and Ginny. You craned your neck to see what was causing this female commotion. 

“Oh Merlin y/n, it’s Viktor Krum! And he’s even better up close!” Ginny whispered excitedly. You stared at the older boy not really impressed but you giggled with Ginny nonetheless, feeling left out of the Viktor-Krum-is-so-handsome festivities that were happening at the table. 

From across the grand path of new students, Cedric stared at you as you giggled and whispered with Ginny. Following your line of sight, his eyes were met with the stiff, soldier-like, famous Viktor Krum. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands as the noises of the Great Hall faded in his ears. He was beginning to think, maybe he was, in fact too cocky when it came to you. 

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Your friends were whispering excitedly in the courtyard when you had joined them. 

“What’s got you lot so excited?” you asked while squeezing to sit between Hermione and Ginny on the ledge. 

“Viktor Krum! What else?” Ginny chirped excitedly. Just at the mention of his name, the other girls squealed in pure bliss. You observed your young friends’ excitement happily. You hadn’t had much time to observe the new Hogwarts guests, as the reality of Cedric putting his name into the goblet this year became more and more clear to you. A warm hand delicately tapped your shoulder from behind you, breaking you from your worries temporarily, and you looked up and behind to see Cedric standing behind you while giving you his most infamous, heart-stopping smile. 

“Ladies” he nodded to the group of girls in acknowledgement before bringing his full attention to you. Content, you leaned your head back into his chest as you looked up at the boy who seemed to be radiating sunshine. 

“Cedric! What are you doing here?” you were beaming. He looked like honey. You couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so warm and so sweet. Beautiful really.  Especially in the courtyard sun. 

“I thought you could perhaps lend me your potions books for today?” he grinned lopsidedly at you as you sighed and pulled out the heavy book. How could you ever say no to this boy? 

“You’re the champion of my heart y/n, you know that?” you laughed when he clutched his heart with his free arm. Your heart bubbled with warmth. You let yourself bask in the feeling only for a moment when Ginny moved to head back to the common rooms first. Feeling rather amorous, you told her you would meet her back there soon. You wanted to share your bubbly feelings with someone and Ginny always loved listening to it. 

“Not just your heart Diggory.” Hermione teased quietly seeing that you were distracted with Ginny for a moment. She gestured Cedric towards a pair of Durmstrang students. One in particular seemed to be taking quite an interest in you. As the Durmstrang boy kept glancing at you, Cedric’s hand on your shoulder unconsciously became a little stiffer and he pulled you a little closer. 

Cedric then bent down to reach your ear and whispered lowly, “I really do appreciate it y/n. You’re not only the champion of my heart but also the one who holds my mind, body and soul in all completion.” The cheesiness of his words had you giggling. You knew he didn’t truly mean what he was saying, but the light tinge of pink on your cheeks was evident. 

Stretching back up to stand Cedric held his gaze on the Durmstrang boy, feeling rather confident and accomplished as he watched the boy’s friend pat him on the back consolingly as they walked away. 

“Oh, Merlin! I forgot that I told Ginny I’d meet her in the common room!” you frantically gathered your things and hollered rushed goodbyes. “Don’t forget to return my potions book Cedric!” you reminded and he chuckled lightly to himself in response. 

As your sporadic figure grew smaller in the distance, Hermione turned to face Cedric. “You know Diggory, every guy at Hogwarts may know of your guys’ relationship, but the ones at Durmstrang don’t.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly, making Cedric’s grin falter. 

“What’s that supposed to mean Granger?” Frustrated, Hermione groaned, “It means that although the boys at Hogwarts don’t fancy y/n, that doesn’t mean that the boys at Durmstrang won’t. You can’t pull that kind of stunt again with every Durmstrang boy she comes in contact with. Godric, boys are so dim sometimes!” she huffed as she turned on her heel to leave. 

Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite sheepish for being caught in his rather childish act. Hermione was right though, he wouldn’t be able to keep every single guy away from you. So what was he supposed to do? 

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The night of the choosing of names came all too fast for you. You knew he put in his name. You knew he really wanted this. And for some reason, you felt like you knew he would be picked. This weighed heavily on your mind and you honestly could not for the life of you, pay attention to who the other two victors were. 

The paper flew out and Dumbledore caught it. The dread in your stomach increased to a nauseating level, the chatter of the students ringing in your ears and then the room went quiet. It wasn’t actually quiet but suddenly you weren’t able to hear the cheers of your peers as you watched the boy you yearned for so dearly, walk through the aisles in celebratory fashion. Your head started spinning, how many students had entered their names? What were the odds? How was it possible that the one student, the one student that you couldn’t risk being out in that tournament, had gotten picked? 

Cedric was on top of the world at that moment. He wasn’t too interested in becoming legendary or glorified through the Tournament but was simply elated to bring pride to the Hufflepuff House. He would be lying though, if he said that he would gladly take on the glory if it meant you would see him as such. Thinking of you, he searched quickly for your head in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, his grin widened but as he saw your fallen and disconnected expression he grew concerned and tried to move his way through the crowd to your spot. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause as the Goblet erupted once more and the wave of confused students swept Cedric further away from you. 

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“Krum’s got a yes!” Cedric turned his attention away from his house tablemates to the rowdy group of Durmstrang boys that were chirping excitedly. 

“Who’s the lucky woman Viktor? I mean half of this school wants to be your date to the Yule Ball! You have to tell us who you ended up asking!” the boys leaned in eager to hear more about Viktor’s proposal. 

“Who else, I asked the pretty Gryffindor I said I would ask.” he replied shortly, seemingly unamused by his friends. 

“Bloody hell, he’s asked y/n!” Cedric whipped his head around to the first-year Hufflepuff who had also turned to listen in. Cedric’s facial expression dropped. 

Glancing at Cedric nervously one of the older Hufflepuffs questioned the girl, “How in Merlin’s Beard would know that? Krum didn’t even say that he had asked y/n.” 

“It’s obvious!” she smiled as she hurriedly reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper. 

“Prettiest…Girls…At…Hogwarts” one of the Hufflepuffs read aloud slowly. Unbeknownst to you, the twins have not only been solidifying their list with the Gryffindor first years, but ALL the first years. 

“Look!” she pointed to your tiny moving portrait on the paper. 

“It says right there: y/n, 6th year, Gryffindor. If Viktor Krum had been talking about a pretty Gryffindor, it had had to be her. She’s a prefect, he would absolutely go for her!” the tiny girl smiled proudly at her findings as if she had cracked a hard case. 

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Sitting alone in the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric was deep in thought. 

Had Viktor Krum really asked you to the ball? Had you really said yes? He knew he hadn’t asked you at all but he had assumed it was only natural that the two of you would’ve gone together. Right..?

The more he questioned you and himself the more miserable he became.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “-so we have TONS of angel-killing weapons now, thanks to Vaggie! Who had a lovely… Errrr. Fight?”

Vaggie: “It was pretty one sided. Call it a training match.”

Charlie: “She had a lovely training match with Carmilla Carmine! Who repeatedly kneed and kicked her in the face, which I’m not allowed to get upset about, because Vaggie isn’t upset about it!”

Sir Pentious: “Oh that sssounds… Pleasssant?”

Angel Dust: “Of course the one time Saint Sapphic isn’t pissed is when someone actually beats the crap outta her.”

Husk: “Wha’d I say? She’s got issues.”

Niffty: “Kneed in the face by Carmilla Carmine!?” (wistful sigh) “Lucky…”

Husk: “And you’ve got even worse issues, somehow.”

Vaggie: “Meanwhile, Charlie was off singing herself up a whole army in Cannibal Town.”

Charlie: “I wouldn’t call them a whole army-”

Vaggie: “They barely fit inside the hotel, babe.”

Charlie: “-and I wouldn’t really call it mine. Alastor and Rosie helped!”

Vaggie: “Did they give you the cannibal army?”

Charlie: “Nnnnoooo… I mean they did introduce me, but I had to do the convincing part myself.”

Vaggie: “Then it’s your army.”

Charlie: “Huh.”

Charlie: “…..hm.”

Vaggie: “Feels kinda nice, doesn’t it?”

Charlie: (giggling) “Maaaybe a little~”

Angel Dust: “If yous two LBs start kissin’ about the literal man eating army now under ya sway, I’m gonna be sick.”

Vaggie: “Aren’t you supposed to have zero gag reflex?”

Angel Dust: “That’s for sex stuff, Vaggitales. This is sappy and sincere.”

Husk: “A word that’s barely in your fucking vocabulary.”

Charlie: “Now Husk, you know that’s not true-”

Angel Dust: “Oh it’s true baby! But I’d be sucha a gooood little school boy if ya wanted to try teachin’ me, Purrrrfessor~”

Husk: “Can we feed him to the cannibals.”

Charlie: “No!”

Vaggie: “If they get sick before the big fight then we’re all dead.”

Angel Dust: “Hey!”

Sir Pentious: (SNIFFLING)

Charlie: “Oh oh Pen! Don’t be scared- no one’s feeding anyone to any cannibals!”

Vaggie: “Well. We’re not feeding anyone from the hotel to them…”

Charlie: “You hush, beautiful. Now there there Pentious, what wrong?”

Sir Pentious: “Nothing issss now! But EVERYTHING wasss, while you and missss Vaggie were fighting!”

Vaggie: “We weren’t-”

Charlie: “That was just me being-”

Vaggie & Charlie: “...”

Vaggie: “Sorry, you go-”

Charlie: “No no after you!”

Vaggie & Charlie: “..…..”

Hotel Crew: “….”

Vaggie: “Charlie had good reasons for being angry-”

Charlie: “I wasn’t angry! Or, not the way I THOUGHT I was? It’s complicated-”

Vaggie: “Valid. Reasonable. Way more forgiving than called for.”

Charlie: “If I’d just TALKED with you like you’d WANTED-”

Vaggie: “You didn’t want to. That’s fair.”

Charlie: “I guess, but. It wasn’t fun.”

Sir Pentious: “No it wasss not!” (crying) “It sssseemed as though you were ssssplitting up! L-leaving ussss! It wasss! DREADFUL!!”

Charlie: “Ohhhhh nooooo we would never-!”

Vaggie: “The hotel thing is kinda bigger than one relationship, Pentious. We’re not giving up on you guys.”

Charlie: “-and that’s also why we’d never break up.”

Vaggie: “Never’s a long time sweetie… and three years was a long time too.”

Charlie: “Not with you it wasn’t. And forever won’t be either.”

Vaggie: “…”

Angel Dust: “If you cry, I really will throw up.”

Vaggie: “Shut up.”

Charlie: (hugs vaggie) “See, Pen? You don’t have to worry about us, okay?”

Sir Pentious: “Okay. Y-essss.”

Charlie: “Shh sshh, please don’t cry…”

Sir Pentious: (wailing) “I can’t help it!!!”

Vaggie: “Hey, how come HIS tears aren’t vomit worthy but MINE are??”

Angel Dust: “Cuz he’s a sad snake boy in a top hat that cuddles with eggs, and you’re supposed to be tough as nails and impossible to fucking break, Vagina. Seein’ ya as being anything other than gay or pissed? Stomach turning. Yuck” 

Husk: “You’ve got issues too, dumbass.”

Angel Dust: “I know.” (preens) “But they look GOOD on me~”

Sir Pentious: (snuffles) “It’sss jussst so good, sssssseeing you two the way you sssshould be! Ugh.” (dripping) “May I borrow a, a tisssssue, Niffty?”

Niffty: “SURE-”

Husk: “You don’t fucking want that or to know where the fuck it’s been. Here. Napkin.”

Sir Pentious: “Thankssss!”

Sir Pentious:  (LOUD NOSE BLOWING HONK)

Charlie: “Better?”

Sir Pentious: “Much, yessss. But how did you manage it?”

Charlie: “Manage what?”

Sir Pentious: “Fixssssing thingsss between you! After it wasss so bad!”

Husk: “Without any alcohol, even.”

Sir Pentious: "Or exssssplossions!"

Angel Dust: “Yeah toots, three years of not sayin’ she was an angel is a pretty big shit pile to have dropped on ya, even in hell.”

Niffty: “YEAH VAGGIE! HOW MANY SOULS HAVE YOU KILLED?!”

Vaggie: “Thousands.”

Husk: “FUCK.”

Niffty: “OoooOOoohhhhh~”

Angel Dust: “Now that’s a body count. Like, not a good one but. Wow.”

Sir Pentious: “Sssee? And now Charlie isss hugging you! How iss that possssible?”

Vaggie: “… I don’t… I, gave her space….”

Charlie: “She’s Vaggie. I already knew who she was.”

Husk: “Exorcist.”

Angel Dust: “Liar?”

Niffty: “Mass MURDERER heheheh…”

Charlie: “My partner.”

Sir Pentious: “I don’t underssstand! Did ssshe sssay ssssorry?”

Vaggie: “Sorry really wouldn’t cut it.”

Charlie: (laughing) “She helped me start the hotel- and run it- and get my dad’s help talking to heaven, and- more things than I can count, honestly! Doesn’t that say enough?”

Sir Pentious: “Oh… ssso wordsss are not… what mattersss?”

Charlie: “They can matter, but it’s what we DO that makes them mean anything.”   

Sir Pentious: "...what we... do?"

Angel Dust: “Like how heaven and it’s angels say it’s all full of great people up there but then they go an' leave us all to rot and die, yeah?”

Charlie: “Vaggie didn’t."

Angel Dust: "Score! Hell's got ONE angry lesbian on it's side!"

Charlie: "And I won’t either.”

Hotel Crew: “…”

Husk: “Are we done. I need a drink.”

Vaggie: “Y-eah.” (hoarse) (clears throat) “That’s where we’re at now. Any questions?”

Angel Dust: (raises hands) “Husk has one!”

Husk: “Fuck you no I don’t-”

Angel Dust: “Sure ya do babypaws. What the FUCK-”

Angel Dust: (points at Vaggie’s wings)

Angel Dust: “-are THOOOOOOSE???”

Vaggie: “…Those are my wings. Asshole.”

Angel Dust: “Bitch~”

Husk: “Motherfucking dumbasses.”

Charlie: “Angel please, it’s rude to point like that! And to um. Say the other part also- but that’s okay I know you mean it in a nice way!”

Angel Dust: “An’ what about Saint Vagatha huh? She called me shit too! Was that her bein’ nice?”

Charlie: “She-”

Vaggie: “I’m nicely not stabbing you.”

Charlie: “-she’s trying her best.”

Angel Dust: “By not stabbing me?”

Husk: “Now that’s impressive as hell.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Angel Dust: “Hmph. Lucky a guy can take pride in people wantin' to stick stuff in him...”

Sir Pentious: “Vaggie? Pleasse pardon the quesstion, however I ssssseem to recall you sssaying you didn’t HAVE any, ah, wingssss?”

Niffty: “Or tits!”

Vaggie: “They grew back.”

Niffty: “Did your t-”

Vaggie: “Niffty-” (groans) “Look, there’s a cockroach over there. Go hunt, kill- whatever.”

Niffty: "KILL KILL KILL-!"

Charlie: “Aren’t her wings AMAZING! LOOK AT THEM!!! You guys have no idea how soft-! wait they what? Grew back?”

Angel Dust: (grinning) “What about your-”

Vaggie: “Ask about my tits twice in one day and die.”

Charlie: “They were gone? You weren’t just hiding them- Twice?”

Niffty: (on vaggie’s shoulder) (checking down her shirt) “Nope! Tits still missing. Nice pecs though!”

Vaggie: “………”

Angel Dust: “She said it, not me!!”

Vaggie: (SIGH) “These are the people I’m about to risk my life for.”

Charlie: “I feel like I’ve missed something important..?”

Husk: “No you fucking haven’t.”

Angel Dust: “So oh heavenly cunt, what the fuck did ya do with Carmine to get the feather dusters reinstated?”

Vaggie: “No idea. Uh- Thought gay thoughts about Charlie? I guess?”

Charlie: “Awww~!”

Sir Pentious: “Aww!!”

Vaggie: “And mostly non-violent thoughts about the rest of you.”

Niffty: “Booo…”

Vaggie: “Anyway, since Lute didn’t use heavenly steel while tearing them off my back, I guess they just needed time to heal up or whatever.”

Charlie: “I’m SO gonna send a thank-you note to Carmilla for helping you with… tha….”

Charlie: “….tEARING? She, Lute-”

Vaggie: “Not now. Tell you later, babe.”

Charlie: “BUt- I’ve met her TWICE and you didn’t say-!”                   

Vaggie: “Let’s focus on finishing debriefing the troo- the friends for now. ‘kay?”

Charlie: “I…”

Angel Dust: “I TOLD YA IDIOTS IT MIGHT BE A SENSITIVE FUCKING TOPIC!”

Husk: “Then why the fuck did you bring it up!?”

Angel Dust: “My mouth likes to be open and stupid shit comes out of it sometimes- I dunno!”

Vaggie: “Yeah well I’m so not about to start spilling the gory details in the hotel lobby. The cannibals are already starting to look hungry. If we’re up to date on the mission statement and current crew resource management situation, then-”

Niffty: “Hey Vaggie, Vaggieee.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Niffty: (giggles) “Did Lute steal your tits too?”

Vaggie: “….”

Angel Dust: “…what? Don’t glare at ME about ya blindly obvious shortfall in that depar-Tit-ment-”

Husk: “Shut up before she fucking tests some of her new shiny weapons on you.”

Vaggie: “Don’t give me ideas.”

Charlie: “Why is everyone talking about my girlfriend’s breasts. She got her wings ripped off and suddenly has them back, and we’re all just, talking about bra size???”

Angel Dust: “Toots, if she wears bras, it’s gotta be just so’s she looks good for you.”

Vaggie: “I’ll take that compliment.”

Angel Dust: “I wasn’t sayin’ it as one-”

Vaggie: “Change your mind or lose your hair.”

Angel Dust: “-you’re a very loving lesbian and ya make Sappho the OG herself proud.”

Vaggie: “Better.”

Sir Pentious: “E-excusssse me!? Thisss, sssssadistic Lute person iss, ssssssomeone we will be fighting against..?”

Vaggie: “Yeah but I’ll handle her, don’t worry.”

Charlie: “wHAT!?”

Vaggie: “I said, I’m the one who knows how she fights anyway, so I’ll-”

Charlie: “YOU. WILL. NOT-”

Demon Charlie: “-NIFFTY DON’T YOU DARE STUFF THAT DEAD COCKROACH DOWN MY GIRLFRIEND’S SHIRT!!!”

Vaggie: “AUGH?!”

Niffty: “Aww.”

Angel Dust: “Oh that’s nasty.”

Husk: "Hreaugh." (hairball noise) “Whatever’s wrong with you, Niffty, never EVER fucking tell me what it is.”

Niffty: (waving cockroach) “It’s just for padding~ You know what they say! Every little bit helps! Right?”

Charlie & Vaggie: “NO!”

Niffty: (CACKLING)

Sir Pentious: “…..thisss isss, sssssso beautiful….”

Husk: “The fucking cockroach?”

Sir Pentious: “No. Them.” (wipes tear) “They’re ssstill, hugging.”

Angel Dust: “Yeah... It’s almost sweet enough to make a guy puke.”

Husk: “Almost?”

Angel Dust: “Well I’m not gonna ruin the mood for them by actually puking!”

Husk: (smiles) “Uh-huh.”

Angel Dust: “Plus, think of my boots! What if they got splashed on and shit?”

Husk: “Right.”

Angel Dust: “And Niffty’s doin’ good work breakin’ the tension and grossin’ them out anyway…”

Husk: “Mm-hmm.”

Angel Dust: “….And. It’s nice to see ‘em bein’ cute again.”

Husk: “…..”

Angel Dust: “….because it was weird when they weren’t and maybe, MAYBE, I was worried.”

Husk: “There we fucking go. Good boy.”

Angel Dust: “!!!”

Sir Pentious: “Oh that sseems to have cheered him up immenssely..”

Husk: "Fuck."

Angel Dust: “Oooh~ Nauseous to horny in less than a second? Damn, Purrrfessor. That’s a new record even for me~”

Husk: “Fuck no.” (fleeing)

Husk: “Alright, I’m opening the fucking bar! Come get your complimentary we might all be dying together soon drinks- and nobody fucking DARE ask me to use body parts in them. This isn’t fucking Cannibal Town. My drinks are good enough without fingers or eyeballs floating in them or whatever.”

Cannibal crowd: (grumbles but politely ques up for drinks)

Charlie: “I think maybe we’ll pass? Vaggie? Our room, us, alone, maybe?”

Vaggie: “Are we gonna talk about stuff?”

Charlie: “I would VERY MUCH like to talk about all things now yes please.”

Vaggie: “Then I’m gonna need a drink. Husk-”

Husk: “Take the fucking bottle.”

Angel Dust: “Here, and this bottle too!”

Charlie: “Oh thank you Angel D- is this LUBE!? Already OPENED lube!??!?”

Angel Dust: “Happy make-up sex~”

Charlie: “I- Vaggie no, not the spear- thanks, Angel Dust, but I think- Vaggie I said not the spear- I think we can do without borrowing your, uh, personal bottle of- okay that’s it, up over the shoulder you go. Hup!”

Vaggie: “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna save him from the extermination by killing him RIGHT NOW!”

Charlie: “-and you told me to ignore you when you talk like that. Anyway, everyone else have good night with the drinks and cannibals!”

Angel Dust: "Will do, toots! You gays enjoy eatin' each other out!"

Vaggie: “Babe please just let me strangle him a little bit-”

Charlie: “Nope! We’re gonna go explore some past trauma!”

Angel Dust: “An’ each other’s bodies!!!”

Charlie: (carrying vaggie upstairs) “Not helping!”

Vaggie: (still struggling) “I don't NEED to talk about my trauma- i need to get my hands on that asshole twink!"

Angel Dust: "GET IN LINE BEHIND HALF OF HELL, VAG-GAY!"

Charlie: "Hold my hand instead?"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: (melting) (holds hand) "...fiiiiine."

[anti-porn-unicorn]

My ex classmate got popular on tiktok for being half naked/being sexy etc. Later on she made an OF because she gained quite a lot of followers (around 10k). I was really shocked when I saw her tiktoks because at 18 she was more "mature" (by mature I mean the way she acts) than at 27.

In her tiktoks she's using this fake high pitched voice, trying to sound like a little girl. When she makes tiktoks with her bf she calls him "cousin" and she makes her tiktoks really sexual (then she advertises her porn saying "if you want to see my spicy movie with my cousin visit my OF"). I'm very disturbed how she plays into this incest fetish. The way she dresses it's almost like ddlg style... she seems so proud that many men are "sliding into her dm's" and she is really proud of the fact that many men who are subscribed to her are in relationships.

I always thought she is intelligent it's kinda sad to see her that she plays this dumb over sexual character online. When I saw her tiktok comments she seems very upset when men are commenting weird things and disrespect her. Her replies are sometimes very rude because she seems to be fed up with such comments. Which kinda tells me she doesn't really want to do this (in my opinion). I just hope she can get love and support she needs. But since her bf is also a part of her OF is kinda worrying... makes me think how their sexual acts are just business most of the time I don't think this is healthy in a relationship.

I haven't seen or spoken to this ex classmate in years. I can only hope she will get the right people around her... I truly feel bad for her. But since she says she earns 5k per month... idk if this is true but this is what she says (our average wage here is a little bit more than 1k... it's around 1,200€) I think she is tempted by the money. And her bf brags on his tiktok how much money they spend so it seems like they are not saving for the future either.

This sounds complicated. Like maybe she started it herself but her bf got involved and is pressuring her?

Either way, it’s creepy that there’s a pedo/incest undertone. That’s probably why it’s so popular.

And even if she makes that much money now, who knows if it will last. Men will move on to the next girl who looks younger and more childlike. Ugh.

All I can say is if you do ever reach out, just give her your unconditional support. It sounds like she might need a female friend who won’t objectify her

[aingeal98]

hello hello! i saw your post and need your thoughts and verdict (hypothetically) for yhk in the last chapter. what would yjh and hsy do once kdj woke up, what if he never woke up and remains unreachable to them after all the effort?

thoughts on doksoo/ joongdok centric and which (poignant) scene makes a neuron lit up and go ah, them. and makes you go crazy, like, every single scene might as well an orpheus and eurydice-d, such as that "cancel your skill, kim dokja"

DHGFVJDFGV sorry you're just such a joy to read on the tags as you go through the story on tumblr since the yhk tags are most often then not, lifeless

Aaaaa thank you for this it's a fun ask! :D

Personally I believe Dokja woke up. Both because I want a happy ending for them and because I wouldn't put it past yoohan to track down and kill everyone who read orv and imagined a sad ending. But also I think him waking up is only the first step. There's no way things aren't complicated afterwards because Dokja will feel guilty for putting his friends through the trauma of losing him and his friends will try and convince him that he deserves love and they don't mind but at the same time the trauma is real and it's there. So it's going to be a long road to helping him forgive himself even if they all have done so already.

I feel like YJH would be pushy at first. Like this is the guy who became a terrorist rather than try therapy. He wants to find meaning through Dokja, to ask Dokja how he's supposed to live now, and that's a lot of pressure that none of the others will want to fall on Dokja's shoulders. Which I think will be good for HSY because it let's her fall into the comfortable zone of yelling at YJH for being terrible at expressing himself and ignoring her own terrible emotions as much as possible in the mean time. So I kind of see it like:

YJH & HSY: Screaming clawing kicking biting each other outside the hospital because HSY thinks YJH is being too pushy with Dokja and YJH thinks he's helping both of them by asking Dokja for guidance and HSY is getting in the way of his recovery.

Sangah, calmly pouring herself and Dokja tea inside his hospital room: So I spoke to your mother today and she'll be here soon! Oh don't worry about those two they'll probably only break a few bones.

But then if he never did wake up... I don't think either of them would be able to truly move on. I think they'd keep hoping that he would get better and the longer he doesn't the more the likelihood grows that one of them snaps and comes up with another reckless life threatening plan to increase the odds of his recovery. I'm not sure what it'd be but I like to think HSY is the one that snaps first this time. Just goes up to YJH like "hey are you ready for me to subject you to more horrendous torment for the slim tiny chance that it could make Dokja wake up" and YJH is like "naturally".

Whether they actually succeed or whether their plan is so terrible and hopeless that Sangah has to step in and force them to accept he's gone (an impossible task but she'll push them as close to the acceptance stage of grief as she possibly can.) I'm not sure. Either way it'd be fun to read about. I haven't looked into the side stories yet but I'm curious if they might make me change my mind about any of this. For now this is how I imagine it going down anyways.

Doksoo are insane and they consume my every waking thought. Reading the webtoon after the novel is so crazy because HSY really shows up as this random villain and no one including her has any idea that she's one of the three most important people in the universe. Like she's just a little fella. A prankster who's pranks sometimes involve murder. And the way she and Dokja are so unimpressed by each other and have no idea how much they'll end up loving each other... I feel like rereading any early doksoo interaction is going to come with extra loud clown music like even Dokja calling her a plagiarist and Sooyoung being like ugh you're such a cliche like oh you dumbasses. You have no idea.

I enjoyed both doksoo and joongdok's early banter a lot like it always added a ton of energy into every scene. But the moments it really clicked for me was the whole reincarnation island arc for doksoo. Like reading his narration about Sooyoung it's like ohhhh my god he's down bad. He's as in love as I am. He doesn't even realise it but he is so enamoured by her. Like that was the moment I could see the potential for them to become as important to each other as they did. The foundation and foreshadowing was done so well, not one bit of their relationship progression felt unearned.

And then for joongdok I think it was their divorce era that really got me on board. Like they were fun in the early stages but once Dokja is convinced there's no going back and is actually emotionally vulnerable and honest with YJH and YJH gets to vent his own frustrations about being nothing more than a character... It really solidified their bond for me. It brought Dokja down to YJH's level rather than the reader he was trying to be to YJH's character. Plus we get HSY dying and traumatising Dokja for once instead of the reverse. It's what they deserve.

Also punisher and transfem YJH and everything that's implied in the novel and how that would add to to her dynamics with doksoo. Haven't gotten any solid thoughts on that yet but the concept is slowly taking a grip on me.

So yeah after the reincarnation island arc I was so fully on board with this ot3 and every single Orpheus moment that followed hit right into my heart.

Sorry this is so long and barely scratches the surface alsjsjdhdh. I'm still processing everything but man. What a story. What a trio. Wretched mirror soulmates with toxic codependency my beloveds.

[ikoarts]

October 2022 Art (OC-tober)

All my drawings for OC-tober 2022! I did miss out Day 9 + Day 22, I think coz the prompts weren't specific to any of my OCs, but I was happy to get a unique OC drawn for 29 whole days! I'll list the prompts below too

vvv dates + info under the cut vvv

1, 2, 3 - 01-02-03/10/2022 : (The Care Taker ; The Crazy One ; The Guide)

Raven, Calypso, and Sean - Raven being something of a caretaker, caring for her little brothers, and even taking on her infant half siblings, she's very busy all of the time... Calypso, yeah hes just crazie. Sean I figured is a maths teacher, he probably teaches Noah, and is a mentor to him

4, 5, 6 - 04-05-06/10/2022 : (The Grump ; The Beauty ; The Evil One)

Ruben, Antonia, and Russula - Ruben is definitely grumpy, I think the only thing that could make him smile is if you present him with some nice cheeses, or do something really stupid :p Toni, ofc is beautiful, she takes a lot of pride in her appearance, oh the style!! i wanna be her!! Russula.. isnt "evil", not really, but shes a demon lady so thats as close as you'll get x

7, 8, 9 - 07-08-10/10/2022 : (The Pet Owner ; The Mechanic ; The Quiet One)

Wren, Delilah, and Jay - I like thinking Wren would, at some point, have a guide dog, though it's not really canon unfortunately. Delilah is one of my Ace Attorney OCs! The daughter of Ron & Desiree, she definitely has a knack for mechanics, even at such a young age. Jay is like the "fly on the wall" of the Maedas, so is Robin tbf, I think both of them sit in a corner and stare, but yeah totally quiet, unless he feels like being snarky, he just sits and is judgemental

10, 11, 12 - 11-12-13/10/2022 : (The Handsome One ; The Thief ; The Best Friends)

Copper, Angel, Blaire + Ginger - Copper is handsome!!! thats all really. Angel is another of my AA OCs, Delilah's grandma, actually, like Ron she's a thief, though it's more serious stuff, Angel might not even be her real name, who knows! Blaire and Ginger are beloved to me, best friends who found each other thru drag!

13, 14 - 14-15/10/2022 : (The Gun Lover ; The Cutie pie)

Richie and Robin - Richie isn't a "gun lover" exactly, only that he has a gun for an arm, sometimes, which he loves, but yea he might be a bit "and then i started blastin"... and Robin is a cutie pie! I've updated his design since this, but he's still cute <3

15, 16, 17 - 16-17-18/10/2022 : (Someone Else's OC (Mitzi from @creaturedrawz) ; The Helper ; The Nature Lover)

Mitzi, Susie, and Buttercup - i hadn't drawn Mitzi yet and i rly wanted to bc i love her... i need to draw for others more x ,, Susie, ofc is very helpful, super friendly and outgoing, and Buttercup is a farm boy, despite living in the city he still ofc has a huge love of nature

18, 19, 20 - 19-20-21/10/2022 : (The Father ; The Siblings ; The Girl Next Door)

Felix, Una + Zin, and Penny - Felix... ugh.. da dad evar... i love his swag ass gay boy style... Una n Zin, some of my IZ OCs, they're siblings, but, it's complicated, they consider each other siblings anyway thats all that matters, Una worries abt him a lot. PENNY, ms americas sweetheart that penny. she is battling demons in hell, with her boobs (gay)... she used to be human, but since fucking. dying. shes having a gradual transformation x

21, 22, 23 - 23-24-25/10/2022 : (The Gang Leader ; The Sad One ; The Gamer)

Caspian, Rushada, and Pumpkin - Caspian isn't a gang leader, but he would get wrapped up in gangs, but dont worry he turns it around <3 Rushada my beloved sadgirl.. again its funny to see her before i gave her a slight redesign, i liked her hands in this one tho. Pumpkin is a gamer, in his gamer zelda shirt and gamer cargo shorts, thats about it

24, 25, 26 - 26-27-28/10/2022 : (The Mother ; The Power Within ; The Lovers)

Alice, Lafayette, Gizmo + Jasmine - Alice <3 my scouse ma.. she kinda just is The mother of my ocs ig ,, Lafayette, i still haven't figured out anything too concrete about his lore, but the hidden power thing is something i feel fits him. Jasmine n Gizmo have been my standout married couple ocs for years now, i just never draw Gizmo LOL, so this is still the most recent thing of him... oops

27, 28, 29 - 29-30-31/10/2022 : (The Scientist ; The Marked One ; The Goddess)

Daffy, Luna, and Rosaline - Last stretch..... im getting tired of typing....... Daffy likes to picture himself as a mad scientist but hes just a dorky autistic dude accidentally making nuclear bombs in his bedroom lmfao. Luna i thought was obvious for the prompt, she's a zombie catgirl so shes just, parts. bits n pieces. Rosaline, again like Lafayette, i dont have much concrete about her, but being my 1 goddess oc it was pretty obvious she'd be the one i drew for the last day lol

[your-average-gay-dork]

breaking my hiatus to scream into the void one more time lmao

I’m driving 13 hours to meet a girl when I’m hardcore crushing on another girl and I don’t know how the fuck I got here.

girl I’m driving to, we’ll call her A. girl i’m crushing on can be B.

so I met A first, on this silly little app actually bc I made a new blog. and she’s great and fantastic and lovely and I was crushing on her, but the longer we talked and flirted the more I felt like we weren’t super compatible.

but at some point in the middle of it all we agreed we wanted to meet and my stupid lesbian ass said I’d drive to her. january is both of our birth months so we wanted to meet then but with complications it got pushed back and is happening at the very end of jan.

but then, enter B. now B also met me thru my new tumblr, and it took me a while to follow her back but when I did she quickly slipped into my asks then my dms. and oh my god. we have so much in common. I love talking to her sm. I’ve been big fuckin depressed and haven’t had the energy or desire to speak to hardly anyone, but I can’t talk to her enough. we’re each others #1 on snap, we text daily, always send gm/gn. we haven’t spoke on the phone yet but we’ve both expressed that we want to.

when we started talking I made it clear I only wanted casual and she agreed bc I’m tired of just wanted to flirt with people and them having other expectations. but also I’m trying very hard to force myself to stay single ig. anyways. clearly my feelings for her are far from casual at this point. but we flirt and sext a lot and she’s older (and taller) than me and so incredibly fucking sexy. but I also love talking to her when it’s not sexual and i’ve started yearning for her so fuckinf bad. like ya boi has a full on heart and soul crushing crush on B.

and just last night I admitted that I’d like to take her on a date if i ever could, like given the chance (B also lives 10+ hours away bc the world is cruel), and she said that she’d let me.

so like you may be wondering what’s so complicated ab it all and why I wont just tell B I’m catching feelings and crushing on her? yeah well B is absolutely heartbroken and trying to heal from a different girl that she was dating with few months ago 🥲 so like obviously we are in very different places and she can’t feel the same way ab me bc she loves someone else and is trying to move on and I know in my fucjing chest that I’m just a distraction and like a virtual rebound from tumblr lmao. but I like her so fucking much dude. like i’ve cried ab it bc I know it’s so stupid and one sided.

like I do think she cares ab me. but only as friends. we share playlists and talk constantly and :( shes so fuckin pretty and attractive.

we’ll talk on 3 separate apps at once just bouncing between them and I love it so much.

so… bc i’ve been so focused on B, ive kinda lost any flirty feelings for A. and yeah A is still very hot and attractive, but it’s just not the same ya know? like A’s attractive, but I’m attracted to B.

and like before I sound too too shitty (not that anyone is reading this. I just need to say it) A does in fact know. It felt like she was catching real feelings for me, and I did not feel them back. so we talked ab it and she confirmed that she did not have real feelings and it’s still casual for her too. she just likes my company and shit, which I like hers too. but again, i’ve been so burnt out on everyone except for fuckin B.

so A knows I’m flirting with and talking to other people. they don’t care.

meanwhile I’m now struggling to keep interest and conversation with A before this trip and my heart breaks every time B mentions being sad ab her ex :,)

I’m also now terrified to drive to A bc it’s been so snowy and icy and i’ve never experienced that and i’m worried ab that and my car in general and ugh. but she sent me $200 to buy tires and has a whole itinerary while i’m there so like I cant fuck it up. but I’m so fucking nervous.

oh and B also knows ab A and keeps asking ab the trip and joking ab how I should come see her instead 🥲 and the problem is I would

[pagerunner-j]

This is valid. At the same time, I think it's also natural for people to work through their feelings and try to reconcile the read they'd had on someone like this. The key point is that it better not be coming from a place of "I called it, I knew he sucked, I was right" -- because that's just self-centered, self-congratulatory arrogance. But at the very least, well, it's a vibe check. It's a learning experience, even if what you're learning is horrible.

I've been through something similar before, unfortunately. A couple cases were with people I did personally know, at least to some extent, and those were the hardest. Some rambling ahead, because I want to get a little of this off my chest. Trigger warnings for several flavors of badness.

In one case, someone in a band I'd loved turned out to be a violent sexual abuser, and I didn't see it coming, despite having been casually familiar with the guy for some time (even if our conversations were only sporadic). I still feel horrible about that, years later. I feel awful for the women he mistreated. I feel stupid for missing the signs. For a while, I even felt, however twisted this might be, kind of like a lesser person for not being more on his radar, if that makes any sense. Like, if he'd ever tried being a creep at me, at least I would have KNOWN, but I guess I wasn't appealing enough to target. Yay? Guess I suck? Ugh. These are the dumb things our minds do to us sometimes, I guess. Anyway, I had one deeply depressing afternoon of sorting out all my memorabilia, including several personal notes from the guy, and hauling them all up to the dumpster. Into the trash with you, asshole.

I still catch myself humming a line or two from his band's songs sometimes, though, and feel sick and sad all over again.

In another case, someone I'd been friendly with online who worked on a game I'd loved turned out to be...well, in a pretty similar category of asshole. The difference is that shortly after his misdeeds got aired, he committed suicide. Again, when all this started, I felt disgusted, betrayed, incredibly uncomfortably like I'd dodged a bullet, like a complete idiot, and also guilty that I was making it about me (see above re: the kind of mental churn that was going on) when others had it worse. And only a couple days later, I had to deal with the tragedy of his death, because he was still a talented guy with the capability to make beautiful things, and sadness about losing a friend. I lost him on multiple levels, really. He's gone, and the idea I had of him is gone and replaced with something worse, and the kind things he said to me when I needed them are changed irrevocably now, and a whole goddamn lot of trust is gone, when I didn't have much left to begin with. And I mean: how was this happening AGAIN?

(By awful coincidence, all of that was also going on while my mom had landed in the hospital for one of her multitude of medical emergencies, which made everything suck way worse. I note that she's gone now, too. And that relationship was plenty complicated in its own way, too -- not the same category by any means, just complicated -- although I am NOT getting into that here. Point is: this shit's hard, especially when it's people you care about.)

As I recall, that second story was unfolding around the same time as BWF's first big wave of Twitter drama. For the most part, I filed it under "Twitter's gonna Twitter" and didn't follow it too closely, because I had, obviously, other things to worry about. Still, I'd probably, finally, picked up enough cynicism and paranoia by then that some of it bled into my perception of him. It was enough for some caution. Still, I didn't tilt fully into "okay, something is OFF' until later. Weirdly -- because I guess I'm still fucking dumb and want to trust people -- that part didn't really kick in until I tried watching a couple of his solo streams on Twitch. I can't point to anything specific, but something about the vibe was so different when it was just him unfiltered and left to his own devices. It didn't take long before I just plain felt uneasy. I stopped watching. Never really went back.

And that's what I'm thinking about now. Fool me twice, shame on me, plenty of shame applies, but the third -- at least I'd learned something by the third. I might not have had cause to specifically predict this kind of incident because I'm not privy to his personal life, and don't want to be, but when this came up tonight, what I felt was not exactly surprise.

I'm so fucking sad and angry and I'm so fucking sick of this and of men in general being horrible, but yeah. Not exactly surprised.

Please, just...stop being horrible.

Friendly reminder that posting about how you “never liked BWF” or how “it isn’t that surprising given how often he flies off the handle on Twitter” doesn’t help the situation and ignores how good abusers are at hiding their behavior.

The best thing for fans to do right now is respect her privacy by not speculating about her personal life

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

Thinking Aloud

@megatraven and @catlovingwitch and @aallotarenunelma

So...this is another lyric fic, and it was going to be from Roses POV, but the more I thought about it...I decided to go for Oizys instead. Here is the song and why I love it and come cry with me please. It's such a good song and a sad song at the same time and UGH-

.

.

It was another day for Oizys.

The Goddess of Despair.

She was sitting on the top of a building that was near the dock at some Greek island. She was sitting on the edge of the side facing the market and was watching the people and how they lived their lives. It was always interesting to her, somehow. She thought it was weird, but she can't help her nature.

None of them could.

And that fact brought back the thoughts she tried to avoid.

"Sooner than memories begin to fray..."

She had many memories she tried to forget, and sometimes she managed to. Sometimes the bad ones went away and stopped bothering her, but sometimes they didn't. And when they didn't, it brought stress to her mind and an ache to her heart.

"Everything from our pasts just swept away...."

She wanted to wipe everything away, start over, stop what happened, stop what kept happening, but she couldn't.

She just had to deal with it. But someone she knew had the pleasure of forgetting. Forgetting her pain, all until it had to start over.

"Rose, where are you? Why does it have to be you?" She whispered out. Her voice held pain and sorrow. She still wondered why it was there. Why does she still feel like this? "How long has it been since then? Would you even know?" She laughed softly. "I bet you wouldn't."

Her eyes roamed and landed on a couple at a stall. It looked like they were trying desperately to sell their food and items. A part of her felt happy and another part of her felt that ache rise in her heart again.

"You would helped them, wouldn't you, Rose?" She knew she was asking no one and talking to herself, but she found that as a comfort now. She had been alone for awhile, so what's the big deal in talking to yourself?

"Remembering when all who have gone are now lost..."

She closed her eyes and she remembered Rose. She was always vivid in her memories, somehow. She remembered when she was scared for Rose. She was starting the war, getting ready to fight the king, and she felt scared for her. When she watched her run into the castle, her heart began to pound. It was nice to remember that she had a heart beat and that she was indeed alive. Sometimes she didn't feel alive.

She let out a sigh and opened her eyes to see that same couple managing to strike a deal with a customer. She saw the happiness on their face and the relief radiating off of them.

"But you can't come and save them. You're gone and you're lost," she said sadly. "Or you seem to be lost since you can never find peace."

She understood why and didn't bother telling Apollo. She knew he'd figure it out eventually, and Rose has forever apparently.

She then thought more and corrected herself. "You find peace...but it never lasts, does it?"

"Many paths...many seasons I have seen..."

She looked around the dock once more and saw two kids chasing one another, weaving through the stalls and stacks of boxes. The girl was ahead of the boy and was teasing him. Oizys laughed and a small smile appeared on her face.

"I've seen so many things, Rose. And so have you."

She turned her eyes to the trees in the distance. She could see better than a human and she could see the beautiful leaves. Some of them were orange and some were brown, but they were all beautiful.

"But I wonder who's seen more seasons. I know you've seen more paths than I," she said with a fond laugh at the end. She knew Rose helped people, it was the one constant fact in each of her lives that Oizys saw. She always wanted to help them reach their own path or destiny.

"You've definitely saved more people than I have. I seem to do anything but save people, huh?"

She looked over to another part of the dock and saw a small group of men and women hunched over in a dark corner and talking. It was like a group huddle, and she knew what they were doing. They were going to steal something or do worse things later on.

"I seem to just cause trouble wherever I go," she said with her voice cracking at the end.

"Time has washed them away just like the sea..."

She knows she shouldn't stay here because of that. She brought trouble wherever she went. Despair is what she is known for, so what else would she bring?

Hope?

No, that was someone else's job.

But while she can't bring hope, she can remember it. She can remember people she'd seen, people she saw Rose save, the beautiful seasons that passed, and the little beauties of life she could remember.

"Time may keep going, but you never let that stop you, so why should it stop me?"

She looked at everything again and saw more beauties. Saw friends fishing together, two co-workers getting along, that couple striking a few more deals, more children spending time with each other, and she just saw hope.

"I guess one thing can never be washed away, huh?"

"So many fates and dreams...will become tragedies..."

But once again those thoughts came back. The thoughts of how this could be destroyed within a second. The kids world could be ruined, that couple could be killed, that gang over there could win, those fishers could lose their fish and never catch another one, and more people could just end up hurt.

And the sad thing is that it was true and entirely possible.

"People dream like you, Rose. And they almost suffer like you do."

No one would suffer like Rose, she knew that, but people always came close. She saw people suffer and a part of her liked it. It was the thing she is. Despair, loneliness, and the darkness in people's hearts...but sometimes she didn’t want to. Sometimes she’d manage to help someone, brighten someone’s day, and it brought her happiness.

“But I always have to remember my job. My job is messing up the world just so people like you can fix it,” she said with another cracked laugh. “But you wouldn’t let me believe that, would you?”

“To see you safe, to watch you grow. Visions of love, my only hope.”

She knew Rose would never let her believe that. She knew she’d want her to see the bright side, see the good she could do. But she didn’t know if she could believe in herself.

“But you are the light, Rose. And if I have to see it from afar, then that’s okay.”

She’s watched Rose ever since she found her. She didn’t find her in her ‘first’ lifetime, but the war is the one she remembers. She remembers the stress on her shoulders, the sadness in her eyes when she said she had to fight, and the love she grew to have for Apollo. She couldn’t be up close for long, she could barely talk to her without affecting her, so she promised to watch from afar and only intervene when necessary.

She only catches little parts of Roses life. It sucked to her. She wanted to be there for every moment, she wanted to be there for her just like Apollo was, but these little snippets had to do.

“Such loneliness is worth the price...I’ll protect you with my life...”

And it was good enough. She would be alone, but she never felt truly alone. She had people around her, even if they didn’t know her and never would. She would be like this. She would sit and watch. See how people change, how they live, and how the world works. It was lonely to do it on her own, but that was okay to her. As long as Rose and her loved ones were safe, then it was okay.

“I failed to protect you before, so I’ll do it now. No matter the cost,” she said with a dark voice. Those memories were coming back again. Tears were welling up in her eyes but she shook her head and blinked them away. She would not cry. That’s not right of a goddess.

“Constantly guiding despite the cost. Hoping against fear when all is lost...”

But even so, those tears always kept rising to the surface, and even blinking and pinching herself didn’t make them go away.

She understood many things in life. Understood why things happen, but this was one she couldn’t wrap her mind around completely.

“Why do you do it? You almost always know the cost of helping people or even trying to save them, but you still do,” she said with a wavy tone. Her memories of Rose suffering for her own actions was invading her mind. “And I bet I don’t even know all of the pain you went through, the things you lost...”.

Yet, she kept hope. She kept focusing on the bright side, focusing on how to help people, and focusing on how she could be better.

“But that is who you are. You hope and you fight and you help. Isn’t that what you were meant to be? Or is that just who you are?” She asked as she looked up to the sky.

It was early in the morning and the sky was a beautiful mix of colors. For someone who was supposed to be darkness and hatred, she loved the mornings. They were bright and it filled her with happiness. It reminded her that not all of the world was doomed.

“Pity not my destiny...no...My sacrifice is worth this”

She shook her head and made those tears vanish once again. She shouldn’t cry, she didn’t have the right. She hasn’t suffered like many others did. But she couldn’t pity them. She couldn’t sit there and feel bad for them just because she should, she wouldn’t watch them suffer and feel joy because of it.

And she wouldn’t pity Rose either.

“You sacrifice yourself so many times, but you wouldn’t want pity would you? Would you even accept sympathy? I’ve never asked you...”. She put her head back down and picked at her nails.

“This burden I must bare alone. For many lives...and more to come”

She looked back out to the people again, seeing them smile and enjoy life. Some of them were angry that the day was starting and complaining about work. Kids were sad that they had to leave or some upset that they had to work too. Happiness but also sadness was in one place at the same time, and she liked it.

“Is this what it would be like if we were together again? If you could exist while I do,” she said with jealousy in her voice. She felt anger towards those people, but she couldn’t help it. “But you have a burden that I don’t. You live over and over again, forgetting your past, forgetting your love...and suffer at others hands.”

And she watched as Rose dealt with it alone. She handled the scars all on her own, she raised the kids during a war with others but still relied on herself to do everything for them, kept herself in check for her soldiers and her mother, and kept piling herself up with work and pain. Sure she learned to rely on others in each lifetime, but only for it to be thrown down the drain and for her to suffer again. She’d only seen it once, but how many times would she be forced to watch it? She could sense the curse on her, and it broke her heart when she learned about it.

And instead of feeling just sympathy for her, instead of...feeling whatever she was supposed to feel. Anger was one of those emotions, even if it shouldn’t be.

She began to breathe faster and it turned ragged and she felt her anger build, but why? Why all of a sudden? She wanted to punch someone, destroy something, but she stopped herself. Instead of hurting someone else, she slammed her fists against the concrete of the roof. Slight pain went through her, but she didn’t care about that. The pain in her heart was bigger than that. And this time those tears ran down her face.

She moved and let her elbows rest against her thighs, and held her face in her hands. The tears were hot and she hiccupped as she let them out. She was ugly crying and she hated it...but also relief.

“Why do you do this? You’re so selfish. Do you even think of how your death effects people? Do you even see it? Do you even truly think about others?” She said with her voice wavering with sadness and anger. She truly wondered if Rose ever thought like that. If she ever thought about her importance to others, or was she really that blind?

“You’re so...fucking selfish...” she said through sobs. She didn’t mean the words that she said, but she couldn’t stop them. Every time she thought of Rose and let her mind wander, the negative side of her would rise and hurt her. She was supposed to spread it to others, not to herself. “But you always managed to surprise me. You manage to change the way things are supposed to work...”.

And then she felt warm on the inside. The morning was cold and now she was suddenly warm. It wasn't the suns doing, and she knew what it was.

She let out a small laugh and looked up at the sky. “You’re here aren’t you? Have you finally come back?” She closed her eyes and let a few more tears fall and drip down her neck. “You sending me some type of sign? Or is it the others Gods giving me false hope? Or is it me just giving myself false hope?”

“I’ll protect you with my life...”

She felt like she knew the answer, so her heart felt lighter. She wiped those tears and brushed imaginary dirt off of her yellow toga dress. She stood up, slowly trying to not fall, and smiled as she looked into the distance.

“Where are you now, dear sister? Will you finally let me help you? Or will I fail once again?”

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath and turned around. She opened her eyes and walked carefully to the opposite edge, the one right above an alley. She climbed down the ladder against the building and done her best to not hurt herself.

She walked to the market and followed the breeze. She followed that warmth that surrounded her at odd times, the one that somehow would lead her to her sister, to her other half. It was like a game of hot and cold, and she found it annoying yet funny at the same time. And it lead her to the dock where ships would arrive at. She looked into the distance and saw a ship heading for them and she smiled.

“Hmm...a pirate, eh? Surprising honestly,” she spoke.

“Did you say something, miss?” A worker said beside her.

She jumped and looked over and laughed. “Sorry, sir. I was just speaking my mind again.”

The man nodded and went back to his work without a sound.

She turned around and began walking back to the hotel she stayed at. “I guess it’s time for me to fuck shit up again, huh?” She felt her heart drop at the thought of her powers taking over herself and feeling it spread already, but it felt a bit lighter now that she knew someone was ready to help.

Her sister was alive again and ready to kick ass.

.

.

Hehe I hope you all enjoyed this! I honestly love Oizys so much and her complications and her background with Rose. I love them both SO much and can’t wait to talk about them both more. Hope y’all enjoyed and feedback is always appreciated😌💙💙💙.

And I read through it all, but sorry if there is some wrong details. I mean for this to take place before her current timeline, so if you see anything involving a ship and a crew mentioned before the ending, then please forget that lol.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Non sexual dominance with softdom!Jason? 🤤

"I ordered you a smoothie," he murmured, pulling you close against his side.

"Thanks Jay," you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder as his arms come around to pin you in place. To anyone else, this is a sweet little cuddly moment, but really he's being a buffer. Giving you time to adjust to being in close quarters with so many people. "Can I have-"

"And a water," he added, kissing your head. "Can't have you getting a headache." Truthfully, he's more worried about the frequency of your stomach aches. And he ordered a smoothie hoping to be able to get something with nutritional value in your body.

"You're the best," you hum, smudging a kiss against his jaw, sitting up slightly when the waitress comes to set down drinks.

Jason notices the way you wince when she pauses to take food orders and slides your smoothie infront of you, telling you to drink. "I'll have a buffalo chicken wrap," he said, "And I think she'll have a quesadilla, extra pico and no beans."

"Jesus Jason," Stephanie snorted, "Do you just have all her orders memorized?"

"For the most part," he said shrugging, resting a hand on your thigh, maintaining physical contact with you. Tracing nonsense patterns on the skin left exposed by a convenient tear.

"It makes my life less complicated," you chirp.

"But what if you don't want a quesadilla?" Steph asked, "Like don't you ever try other stuff?"

"Ugh. Why?" you huff, "We only eat like 4 places when we're all together and why order something that I probably won't like?"

"Fair enough," she snorted, watching you tuck yourself back against his side, retreating when someone rushed past the table. And Jason tightened his grip, just slightly. "Young love," she teased.

Jason rolled his eyes and moved your smoothie closer to you. You were doing pretty well. All things considered. It had been a long week. A visit to Black Gate on Monday had left you feeling out of sorts- left you emotional and particularly receptive to other people's feelings. And not even his usual tricks to distract you had successfully mitigated anything. But today, the sun is shining. And after lunch, the pack of you are going to head to the boardwalk.

"Are you gonna cut it up for her too?" Dick teased, when the waitress set plates down.

"Fuck you," you shoot back cheerfully, picking up one of the tortilla triangles to take a bite.

"Yeah," Jason added, "She's a strong independent woman who can kick my ass- it's self-preservation, really."

And when you grin at him, he leans down and kisses your forehead.

"It's like that one time-"

"I don't remember that and neither do you, babe," he said, face heating.

-------

Out on the sidewalk, he shifts himself to be between you and the traffic, dropping his jacket around your shoulders and zipping it up for you before taking your hand.

"Jay-"

"I don't want you getting sick, Princess," he murmured. "You're tired and all those tummy aches have me worried." He stopped in front of the car and cradled your cheek in his hand, "Humor me?"

"Jaybird, I'm okay I'm just... sad."

"I know," he said softly, kissing your forehead. "And I feel bad that I wasn't there- I can't make all of it go away. But I can at least make sure my princess is safe and taken care of now."

When you look up at him, all big doe eyes and the little smile you only give to him, he kisses your nose before leading you to the passenger side of his jeep and opening the door. Offering you a hand up into the seat before buckling your seat belt.

"I can do it," you laugh, stealing a kiss, "I'm not-"

"Helpless? Oh I know- I've walked away from training with the shiner to prove it," he chuckled, kissing you again. "I just like knowing that if anyone else tried to do this stuff for you, you'd hate it- but when I do it, you get all wet and subby for me."

"Rude," you murmur.

"Careful, Princess," he rumbled, double-checking your seat belt, "Don't think I won't put you in time out again."

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[mzjmesa]

Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

-

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

[rainestormes]

Grom Queen

Chapter 5/5: All I Wanna Do Is Run

     “Lily?” Eda asked. Her voice was timid and weak, two words she never thought would apply to herself. “Lily, are you okay?” 

     What a stupid question, she scolded herself. Lilith’s knees gave up on keeping her standing as soon as the threat was neutralized. She’d fallen to the floor, dull eyes glued to Grometheus’ remains. Both her concealment stone and her glasses had fallen during the fight, and Eda rushed to pick them up. 

     She kneeled in front of her sister to give them back, but as soon as she approached her, Lilith snapped out of her stupor.

     “Don’t touch me!”

     Lilith grabbed her glasses from Eda and roughly put them back on. 

     “Lily… I couldn’t see the fight, but…” her voice broke. “Why did Grom turn into me?”

     “This isn’t about you!” Her sister yelled, and Eda flinched. “Not everything is about you, Edalyn, even though it may seem like it!”

     “What- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” she panted between words, an ugly gasp for air. “Everyone thinks you’re better than me, but you’re not, okay?! So stop acting like it!”

     For the first time, Eda didn’t have a joke or a witty comment to make. The hatred in her sister’s eyes was so genuine it tore through her chest like a dagger. Lilith’s glare was poisonous, and she was sure she’d die from it. 

     Before Eda could say anything, Lilith stood up abruptly and walked away, leaving her in the dark.

—

     Lilith was furious as she walked past Raine. 

     They considered following her out the door, but decided against it. Her face was bright red and her steps were firm; Raine wasn’t the best at reading body language, but they recognized a stay-away-from-me stance. They’d trained with her before and knew what she was capable of when messed with. Raine would like to go home with all their limbs intact, thank you very much.

     Instead, they ran into the school’s basement. Some of their classmates were whispering to each other, some teachers looked concerned, unsure how to help. But most of the guests were ready to go home now that the show was over. 

     “Their lives are not a spectacle”, Raine wanted to scream, but getting to Eda was more important right now.

     She was frozen in place, her back turned from the source of light. Raine rushed to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the disgusting goo around them.

     “Eda! Eda, are you alright?” They resisted the urge to grab her face between their hands and squeeze the sadness out of her. “I heard some of that, I’m so sorry, I-”

     “Hey,” Eda said, putting her hand over theirs. The tears in her eyes were gone, replaced with a shadow of their usual spark. “It’s alright. Lily had a pretty rough night, so don’t worry about me. I’m sorry to you too. I doubt this is how you planned on spending your first Grom, and yet-”

     She snorted, but her eyebrows were still scrunched. 

     “I loved spending the night with you, Eda. I had a lot of fun, believe it or not,” Raine stood up, offering their hand to her. She accepted it and they pulled her up with them. “It’s okay not to be okay. I- I understand if you’d rather not talk about it right now, but… I’m always here, okay?”

     “Take a shot of apple blood every time you say okay,” she chuckled to herself. Not in a talking mood, then. 

     Raine insisted they’d accompany her back to her house. Eda was silent the whole way there. They wished her goodnight, but something told them it wouldn’t be.

—

     Her parents didn’t notice Lilith’s mood as she stormed through the door. 

     “Hello to you too, sweet flea!” Gwen said as the door slammed behind her. Lilith didn’t respond. 

     She marched upstairs and threw herself on her bed. She wasn’t even sure of who she was angry at, but she needed to be angry at someone. Edalyn, her parents, Grometheus, herself. The damn Titan could burn for all she cared.

      Ugh! Why was this so complicated? She grabbed her stupid Grom crown from her head and threw it across the room. It didn’t even give her the satisfaction of breaking. Whatever it was made out of, it was resistant to a teenage girl’s wrath. 

      Lilith screamed into her pillow, but nobody noticed.

     The following morning, neither she nor Eda talked about what happened. Their parents didn’t ask why they were so awkward around each other, or why they avoided questions about Grom. Lilith got a ‘congratulations’ for winning against Grometheus, and Eda practically got a party to celebrate her and Raine’s ‘it’s complicated’. Things went on as usual, and Lilith counted the days until the Emperor’s Coven trial. 

     She’d prove them all wrong.

     Meanwhile, she kept her Grom crowd hidden in the bottom of a drawer, hoping the memory would accumulate dust with it.

Grom Queen taglist: @littlx-songbxrd @sproutthecrustygremlin @lilith-clawthorne-appreciation @coxinhadoce47 @stxr-thxif @solar-speaks @rebel--hearts (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

[choco-exe]

the one where tsukishima and sakusa go too far with teasing their crush

anonymous asks:  Hiiiiii I LOVE ur writing, and I was wondering if I could request the haikyuu boys (whoever u think fits best) who constantly tease (borderline insult) their crush, who one day just breaks down from their harsh words and say to them something along the lines of “why do you hate me?”, and how the the haikyuu boys react to that. If possible, end with something fluffy 🥺? (Like a confession) TYSMMM ❤️❤️

a/n: hello! aww im glad you do :D wait i just realized you said to have the boys react to their crush saying why do you hate me- fuuuuu- ahem please forgive me for not reading the ask correctly ;w; i hope you still enjoy, nevertheless! and why did i write these long-

tw: mentions of self hate, kind of toxic behavior from sakusa

𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊 . . .  🖉

  ☾ he’s gonna be meaner the more he likes you   ☾ like if he’s only realized he developed a crush on you, he’d treat you the same, but if it’s been weeks and you haven’t picked up the hint, he’s gonna be treating you like trash   ☾ you find him staring down at you with a dead eye stare   ☾ “what’s up, kei?” “you’re so short you look like a toddler” “..i’m the average height for a high schooler though-”   ☾ his comments about your height never got to you, but then he started to target other regions of yourself   ☾ like he’d give a rude remark about a low score you got on the quiz, or how you always look dead inside well he isn’t wrong   ☾ whenever he said something negative about you, you just shot back a counter and brushed it off   ☾ after a month of this going on, though, his words started to sting a bit   ☾ “hey kei-” “can’t you stay quiet for one second? it’s like you blab out words every chance you get”   ☾ imagine your surprise, since it was unusual of him to comment about you talking   ☾ and one of your biggest insecurities is being annoying to others; you knew you tend to ramble about things, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind was always telling you about how people around you would get fed up with it   ☾ did tsukki mean to say it like that? of course not; he was meaning to have a bit of humor in his statement   ☾ he just said it in such an annoyed tone and way that it made it seem like he was bothered by you talking   ☾ “..sorry, kei. my mind wandered for a bit..”   ☾ you figured that he just had a bad day, and you were over it after a full night of sleep i could really use that   ☾ the voice inside your head grew louder, however, and tsukishima’s comments didn’t help at all   ☾ “stop bothering me about the homework; cant you see i’m busy? ugh, fine, take my notes if you’re that stupid-”   ☾ “if you want attention, listen to this playlist. it should satisfy your longing for voices; i need to study for a test now”   ☾ it got to the point where your mind was yelling at you about being a nuisance, and the final piece you needed to break just so happened to be during a practice match..

“You did great, blocking them all, Tsukki!” You exclaimed, flashing him a grin as you pass him his water bottle and towel. In all honesty, you were forcing your smile so hard, it began to hurt your jaw. “I could’ve blocked better if someone wasn’t screaming the whole time,” the middle blocker said, wiping sweat off his forehead. You had been passing out water bottles to the other players, but you stopped dead in your tracks when his words hit your ears. “Y/N-chan..?” Shimizu asked worriedly, eyeing your expression that Tsukishima couldn’t see. The said blonde took off his goggled to switch them out with his regular glasses. “It was just a practice match; getting hyped up wasn’t exactly the brightest idea your mind conjured up.” Putting his glasses on after wiping the lenses, he looked down at you to see your tear ducts brimming with your sadness. “..huh..?” You touched your face as a tear slid down your cheek. The other club members looked at you in concern. “Ah- don’t worry, everyone..” You wave your hands frantically as Daichi and Sugawara stare disapprovingly at Tsukishima. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m just gonna.. step outside for a bit.” You forced another smile out onto your face, then quickly scampered out of the gym. The silence was so thick, you could slice it with a sword. Four-Eyes clearly didn’t expect you to be that emotional over his statement, as his face was filled with a small mixture of concern and confusion. He ran after you, shoving his things in his hands to Yamaguchi and leaving the rest of the team shocked into standing still. You had fled to a nearby bench, where you collapsed onto and shoved your face into your hands, desperately trying to stop your tears from shedding. How stupid, you thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Look what you did; you made the team worry about you, and they’re all going to resent you the moment they find out the reason behind your crying. “Y/N.” Jolted out of your thoughts, you looked up to find Tsukishima staring down at you with an unreadable expression. Almost immediately, your face became flooded with streams of tears. You quickly looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands. “I-I’m sorry for talking so much, Tsukki, I’ll try to keep my thoughts to myself-” “Shut up, Y/N.” He interrupted. You sighed and calmed your breathing. “This is what I’m talking about, Tsukishima.” You muttered, putting your face in your hands once again. “I’m just a pest to everyone; anyone I encounter will automatically hate me-” “Stop insulting yourself, dammit.” The middle blocker clenched his fists in anger. “You aren’t a nuisance, and you most definitely aren’t one to be hated on- I know I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but did it really affect you that much-” You slowly took your face out of your hands to see the blonde crouching, staring up at you. “'Did it really affect you that much?’ What do you think?! God, it really seems like you don’t consider my feelings at all, Tsukishima! I’ve been suspecting that you hate me, but why-?!” Said boy quickly clasped your hands in his, surprising you greatly. His usual expressionless face was morphed into one in a slight panic. “It’s because I like you, idiot!” Taking a moment to process his words, your whole face flushed a scarlet-red. “What?” The tips of Tsukishima’s ears were dusted with a soft coral-pink hue. “You heard me. I won’t repeat myself.” He averted his eyes from yours, squeezing your hands in nervousness. “I-” You were internally melting inside; who would’ve thought the salty beanpole would like someone like you? “But you would always push me to the side! Telling me you were busy and such!” Tsukishima stared at you like you were the biggest dumbass in the world. “I gave you my notes because I knew you didn’t have the energy to take them in class, and the playlist was a collection of songs I thought would suit you. Are you that dense?” “Who are you calling dense?!” You replied hastily. “And for your information, I haven’t given you my answer yet! Let go of my hands, and I’ll tell you, okay?” The middle blocker leaned in close to your face with his dead eye gaze. “It’s an agreement or disagreement, Y/N. What is your response?” You leaned back into the bench, but Tsukishima followed with your movements. “Um- I-” Your words crossed with each other, the lack of personal space making your head spin. “Yes?” Satisfied, the lamppost removed his hands from yours and flicked your forehead. “Simple as that, shortcake. If you want to freeze to death outside, that’s fine by me.” He began to walk back to the gym. “Wha- I’m not short!” You exclaimed, running after the four-eyes. “Also, I’m not the one who’s been sweating profusely for the past hour, so speak for yourself!” Tsukishima gently smiled as he heard you rapidly firing back at his comment. Looks like she’s back to her usual self. 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊 . . .  🖉

  ✤ obviously he’s gonna be commenting about your hygiene 24/7   ✤ the fact that he’s developed a crush on you doesn’t help, either; it means that you should be extra clean if he were to date you   ✤ and of course he has to remind you almost every hour of the day; whether it be by text or in person   ✤ now, you didn’t mind him checking up on you every couple of days, but every hour??   ✤ you’re convinced that sakusa has had some sort of trauma in the past, fighting with germs ever since he was a child okay not really.. unless?   ✤ he doesn’t even do this to the other people he’s acquainted with; you’ve asked koromi about it, and he says sakusa just sprays him with holy water a disinfecting solution    ✤ now you’re confused as to why you’re getting special treatment from him, when you two aren’t as close as him and his cousin   ✤ so you personally went to his class to ask him about it   ✤ “hey kiyoomi, why do you remind me to be clean every hour that you’re awake?” “because you shouldn’t have a single germ on you.” “but it’s literally the same message every time; at least make it seem more interesting” “cleaning yourself should be simple, not complicated”   ✤ you got fed up with it as another week went by, which is understandable, since this clean freak was spamming your phone hour after hour without missing a single text   ✤ the fact that sakusa was willing to put effort into reminding you about your hygiene was kind of sweet, but the same message every. single. damn. time. was annoying you like hell   ✤ and when you tell him to stop and that you already know how to get rid of germs, he gave you a disgusted look   ✤ this had to be one of the most nasty expressions he had ever made, because you stood paralyzed to the floor   ✤ “i have been reminding you for your own good, y/n. why don’t you just appreciate what i do for you, instead of complain about it?”   ✤ your mouth stayed shut, your tongue feeling as though it was glued to the top of your mouth   ✤ “don’t mention anything like this again”   ✤ you meekly nodded, and he strolled out the classroom   ✤ the moment he was gone, you collapsed onto the floor out of fear, shivering as you replayed the scene again and again in your head   ✤ the main question that circled your head was: why was he acting so controlling?   ✤ the night after, you texted sakusa, and asked him to meet up with you at your favorite spot   ✤ surprisingly, he complied. and you were waiting for awhile by the time he got there..

“Sakusa, hi!” You greeted your friend with a small but warm smile. The ace frowned; it was unlike you to call him by his last name. In fact, it had been months since you’ve said his name with such coldness in your voice. “..why did you call me out here?” He questioned in a low tone. Your eyes grew dark as you thought about what to say to him. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday. I feel as though we need to.” Sakusa’s own eyes narrowed as you spoke each word. “Are you still going to complain about my reminders to you?” Shaking your head, you stared at your feet while hugging your arms to your chest. “Of course not, I heard what you told me to do. I just.. wanted to know why you got so angry, is all.” The jet-black haired boy stared down at you, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to remember what specifically happened the day before. “I don’t know what you’re remembering, Y/N, but I wasn’t angry in the slightest. Are you sure you aren’t thinking of another memory of yours?” Your head snaps up when he said that he wasn’t angry. “Yes, I’m very sure.” You firmly say. “Maybe you don’t think you seemed angry, but you were downright furious. It was.. kind of terrifying.” “Are you saying I was out of control yesterday?” “No, just..” You subconsciously hugged your arms tighter to your body, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “..intimidating.” Sakusa tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. You found him intimidating? Just from a little conversation that happened because of you’re questioning ways? “I’m tired, and I’m sure you are, too,” you continued, not catching on that your friend was becoming annoyed with your talking. “Which is why I want to end this quickly. Sakusa, I have a life, too. As much as I appreciate what you do for me, I can take care of myself without your help-” “You’re repeating the same words you stated yesterday, just in different phrasing.” The germaphobe harshly cut in. “I said this once, but I will say it again, for your sake. I am doing this for your own good-” “-and I know what’s good for me and what isn’t, Sakusa!” You exclaimed, your arms no longer crossed. “I can make my own decisions! I’m not some dumb little kid you have to look after-” “Y/N-” “-so just drop this already! It doesn’t help anyone; it doesn’t help me, it doesn’t help you-” “Y/N.” Sakusa lost all patience. He towered over you, his hands clenched tightly into fists. You slightly shrink at his actions, your arms up in defense. The ace didn’t seem to notice your fear as he took a step forward. “You are crawling with so many germs, I can practically see them all over you. You are in no condition to be deciding on your hygiene, when you can’t even rid of the many dirt particles covering your skin.” He took another step forward, and you step back, unsure of what to do. Sakusa broke out of his anger when he heard a slight sob leave your lips. “Why do you hate me so much, Sakusa?!” You asked, pain laced into your voice. “I’m perfectly capable of not being dirty, can’t you see?! Why can’t you just leave me alone-” You used your sleeves to start wiping the tears away, although they doubled to replace the ones you removed. The ace hesitantly enveloped you in a hug, making you break down even more. “Sakusa- no- you’re gonna get germs on you-” You stammered, resisting the temptation to bury your face into his chest. “..I made you cry. I need to pay the consequences.” Said boy murmured, rubbing shapes onto your back. You continued to cry for a good 5 minutes, before slowly pushing him away. “..thank you.” You sniffled. “I know consequences has nothing to do with that. Why did you-?” “I like you, Y/N.” He cut you off, making your eyes widen. “The reason why I’d been constantly reminding you to wash up is because I thought I should date someone who was clean to the touch. That was wrong of me, so very wrong. I apologize, and it’s fine if you reject-” You shut him up with a kiss to his mask. “Are you traumatized yet?” You asked, trying to crack a smile. “That’s my revenge from yesterday.” Sakusa blinked multiple times before realizing what you did. “..I guess I deserved that. So is that a yes..?” You broke out into a beautiful, radiant smile this time, the moonlight making you glow even more than you already were. “Of course, Kiyoomi!”

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review, ch (92-93)

That was painful & so well-written! This analysis will focus on kyokyo mainly & faintly on her effect on kyo. Although, her story affects tohru’s life immensely, I won’t analyze tohru’s part & will wait until it’s a tohru’s chapter to use the knowledge of kyoko’s past to better read tohru’s mind & understand her decisions! Can’t wait! after all, that’s why I’ve read the manga to begin with!

-Kyoko’s Atonement:  (the weight of words):

 Kyoko breaks down after she learns she’s expecting. Why? cuz she hurt her mom. The notion that “yeah my parents caused me emotional trauma & so I’mma hurt them as well” is toxic & burdening as it starts a cycle of pain. Kyoko was right. She had no idea how her mom felt seeing her rebel, or follow violence or hear her harsh words. I’m not cleansing the mom from guilt nor responsibility. I’m just saying since the mom’s pov is blocked from us, assuming shes similar to the dad is wrong. kyoko’s fear of being punished with a child similar to herself is genuine, realistic & refreshing to see expressed in anime! usually character like kyoko are cool & brave, but here she’s humanly weak & doubtful. LOVE IT!

Moreover, in furuba words weigh on ppl & have consequences. We see this with kyo. His dad destroyed him verbally with words “ not my fault, it’s yours” that kyo echoes back to yuki! meaning the consequences of the dad’s words cause harm to his wife, kyo & even yuki!. Kyo was tormented with his own words for long time & clung to them even more in order not to resort to suicide! “ not my fault, it’s the rat’s” . Words can crush you down so bad if you hear them from loved ones, & worse if you utter them back to other loved ones! here kyoko learned that just the mere thought of her future child echoing her words back to her would torment her to death! Excellent writing!

-Katsuya invented Furuba’s vision (Accepting weakness & moving on):

The teachings of kyoko & tohru were really katsuya’s after all. I’m fne with that. These teachings are the core of Furuba’s vision. He tells kyoko to accept that she’s weak, afraid & doubtful. it’s okay. But gives her tools to move on. Your kid isn’t you. They’re an individual person. As parents all we can do is give love/hugs (sth kyoko’s parents didnt do), listen to them (sth yuki’s parents didnt do) & if they do sth wrong will explain it & teach them well (sth kyo’s parents didn’t do, his wrong deed was being born a cat spirit & he was hated for it with no explanation, mom gave lots of “fake” love & escaped by death, dad became a raging monster). Accepting weakness & moving on is what the cursed sohmnas needed to do to heal & what tohru taught them. Off course, tohru herself struggled to follow her own teachings & that’s amazingly realistic!

-Kyoko’s guilt (punishment brings ease):

Kyoko wanted to be punished so harsh for her husband’s death. The gossip got to her. She failed him as a life’s companion. Taking care of our loved ones is a duty we carry with much love & care. Them slipping away is perceived as us failing by none than ourselves. The thing is, death comes with no warning at times. It was his time to leave. Accepting it or not, wont bring him back, but accepting it will help kyoko deal with pain while not accepting will cause more pain for her & tohru.

One of the most painful things abt grief is that it’s personal. Life continues around you. Only you feel it.  “didn’t the world end when katsuya died”. No kyoko. Only you died emotionally. Only him died physically. Kyo once said “ mom why didn’t you kill me instead”. A different reaction to grief, guilt & pain, but same conclusion: neither katsuya nor kyo’s mom are coming back no matter how much pain kyo or kyoko felt.

Kyoko found ease in emotional death, neglecting & refusing life, punishing herself for staying after him.

kyo found ease in rage & blaming others as he his father did, later he’ll escape to emotional & physical slow death “ cat cage/confinement”.

tohru... found ease in pretending "I’m okay” & her mom is alive.. but not physically.. emotionally, so she’ll ignore the truth & live only for her.

Didn’t I say grief is harsh, weird & very very personal. It’s hard to explain, deal with & heal. The mere words of consolation hurt cuz the grieving ones dont want to accept loved one are really gone. Her dad’s harsh words cemented the “emotional death” that kyoko felt. I’m not needed. neither katsuya. nor parents in general. depression. misery. sadness. emptiness.

-The tv show helped to trigger kyoko’s desire to “meet” katsuya. She has already reached the conclusion that she isnt needed. So, the tv show with their words of the deceased wanting you to be happy. triggered her into misinterpreting the words as to mean her death NOT fuel her to live in his memory as intended.

- “Loosing your way first before finding your answer” is okay & so human!:

Ironically..Tohru... was the person Kyoko was punishing NOT herself: By being emotionally dead, kyoko neglected her daughter. Her world shouldnt be just one person. There are others. Katsuya himself gave her a person to love. Tohru. Kyoko chose death & unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher thsn what kyoko faced. She was about to do, but was saved by a nameless child who reminded her of tohru. She chose wrong first but later saw her answer. Kyo chose death by accepting the confinement & he, too, unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher if he wasnt with her. He chose wrong first but later saw his answer. Off course kyo’s story is more developed & complicated as he dealt with bigger issues than just tohru & his answer wasn't just loving tohru alone but also loving himself & choosing to live for them both: himself & tohru.

-Kyo’s guilt is a concussion thought eating him alive:

Part of why kyo’s story was one of the most human & complex is due him loosing his way first, failing, repeating mistakes “ I always though that hurting ppl was the only thing I was good at, after all, isnt that why mom died?” Kyo’s nightmare being a conscious effect of hearing tohru’s talk abt “ videos & memories of loved ones” is 1000 times stronger & more human than a cliche effect of seeing a “ hat” & to revive a a blocked memory... What the hell!! truly disgusting how the emotional weigh is reduced for stupid cliche drama !!!!!! ..

Anyway, kyo actively & consciously wanted punishment .He was sure that kyoko blamed him” I wont forgive you” can only mean what it literally means. The purpose of the nightmare is to cause kyo to seek “ emotional death” like kyoko & to loose his path more. It is meant to prepare kyo to refuse tohru even more. Therefore, the pay off at the climax will be better & stronger.

Reading kyo’s inner thoughts will never not be refreshing!!! Also, the slow burn is cooked on low , hot fire , so the pay off will be the most delicious there is!

Side Notes:

I’ve stated my feelings regarding the age gap between kyoko & katsuya in last chapter’s preview post. I’m done with it & won’t let it interfere with my analysis of kyoko nor tohru.

The idea of just being together as a fun hanging out activity without being bothered much of where reminds ms so much of kyo & tohru!! we see them being happy together in the anime in kazuma’s house, shigure’s rooftop, cooking pancake in the kitchen! I really like this domestic feel of romance! it contradicts the notion of expensive restaurant with the girl wearing a breathtaking dress to woo the guy for it to be utterly romantic as we see in movies, & other stories.

NGL, katsuya looked sexy waiting home.. damn it! >_<

I cried watching tohru between her parents, how they acted & how loved she was! T_T. it reminded me of my niece How her dad’s death affected her! She was the apple of his eyes.. T_T.

Tohru is indeed a rice ball! her dad gave her a masculine name while tohru is so feminine! his reasoning is “finding salty taste in sweet things make the taste better & stronger, kinda giving it a hidden flavour”, the rice ball has a pickle inside it & it’s what makes the taste so savory & delicious!

Grandpa’s “ chance meetings could lead to variety of outcomes, good or bad” YES! kyo/tohru/yuki meeting each other by chance. Fiction make it look weird, but trust me, real life has those by dozens!

“ i wonder how lost you’ll be, how much time you’ll need to get your answer”. He will screw up so bad, kyoko! it will be so good! one of the best screw up’s I’ve seen! so painful for him & tohru & amazingly written!

Kyo’s nightmare being connected to him remembering/dreaming of kyoko’s story is bigger effect than opening the ep with it & having the cause be sth that happened last ep, a week ago... the effect is NOT the same.

Momiji is so cute!!! did his curse break here or not yet? he seemed as tall as tohru.

Writing tohru worried abt kyo after seeing him pale is the tohru I know!! Not that stupid girl who watches the guy she loves have a panic attach in se3, ep6, then goes in ep 7...” dahhhh.. Jeez.. I duno why kyo is sleeping until now.. better laugh & make cute rice cakes” giggle giggle...That scene got me so furious even when I first saw it!! THIS IS NOT TOHRU! tohru cried for a stupid story that haru told abt puppets!! she’ll forget the person she challenges herself for is sick?! ugh!

I love seeing yuki & kyo chill & cool around each other.

Kyoko being fully dependent on katsuya can be a factor in her grief, but I’ve seen cases where both partners are independent but still be completely broken after the others’ death. Grief isn’t logical at all & is extremely personal.

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[redrobin-detective]

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step. 

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile. 

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”