#and it's not like it's all bad. there are just enough good parts to make the fumbled parts really piss me off

[milktiicup]

Could you write a fic where we figure out a way to bring Mr Crawling shopping with us? Maybe he could be put in a wheelchair so his height isn't as scary or suspicious to other humans

a day out!

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.” “Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs. Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

Leaving Mr. Crawling at home all day left you wondering- does he need fresh air? Does he want fresh air? If you left your old world in the name of romance just to be left inside all day while your partner goes to work and has extra curricular activities at night time- you’d like to think you’d crave being outside, too. 

It gave you the bright idea- why not take Mr. Crawling grocery shopping?

Of course, your roommate-boyfriend-thing couldn’t really walk outside all willy-nilly if he wanted. And yeah, you already knew that he’s not that noticeable to other people- but he’s still noticeable. He needed a makeover, a new wardrobe, and one thing for certain- a wheelchair! 

You felt bad stealing from the hospital, but what could you do? Pay for one? Those things were expensive! You may be a murderer, you may be a monster, but one thing for certain is- you’re not that much of a thief… You paid for his clothes, obviously. A simple oversized black t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. You even decided to treat him to a pair of… black socks. 

You were such a good, kind person. 

“Crawlingggg,” you sang, stepping into your apartment. “I have a gift for you!”

He sits there in the hallway, head tilted and a smile that stretches ear to ear. “Gift? You give object?” 

You wave the shopping bags. “I give object! Give you!”

“Give me?” He giggles, and you’re promptly tackled to the floor in a heap of hair and raggy kimono in a hug. 

You don’t know what you were expecting by giving Mr. Crawling a pair of normal human sized pants, but they fit… for the most part. His entire calves were exposed. He was like a fussy baby when you insisted you had to put the socks on his feet, but with a pout, he let you. Mr. Crawling was quick to look at himself in the mirror, and after you changed out of your work clothes, you were ready to go!#

“Ready?” you ask, gripping the handles of the wheelchair with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. This was, after all, a brilliant idea. Mr. Crawling finally gets to experience the great outdoors. A small trip, sure, but a big leap in the world of integrating your… unique roommate-boyfriend-thing into normal human life.

He glances down at himself, his oversized shirt sagging a little off one shoulder, his sweatpants cinched tight around his too-thin waist. His hair still moves with its own mind, curling around his arms like curious tendrils. Maybe a hair tie would’ve been a good idea. “Look… human?” he asks, poking the fabric of his shirt.

“Close enough,” you say brightly, patting his shoulder. “And trust me, no one will question it. People don’t actually pay attention to other people in public. It’s one of the few perks of modern society.”

He tilts his head, not understanding a word you just said, but he nods anyway. “You push chair. Fast?”

“No,” you say firmly, cutting that idea off before it even starts. You had to be mature, and fight the urges to make him do wheelies down the street. You were an adult. “We’re going normal speed, like normal people, doing normal grocery shopping. Normal.” You give him a pointed look, and he grins wide.

You manoeuvre him out of the apartment and down the hall, the wheelchair gliding smoothly. His fingers twitch as he grips the armrests. “This… fun,” he murmurs, glancing up at you. “You like push?”

“It’s like pushing a very large, very creepy man,” you mutter, though there’s no real malice in your tone. “But yeah, it’s kind of fun.”

The trip down to the street is uneventful. Nobody spares you a second glance, save for one elderly woman who frowns a little at Mr. Crawling’s hair. Damn… Men can’t have long hair these days, apparently. You quickly steer him away before she can get a closer look, and see the fact he quite literally has no eyeballs.

“Outside,” he whispers in awe as you roll him onto the sidewalk. His fingers tap the armrests excitedly, his head swivelling to take in the towering buildings, the cars, the smoggy sky. “Big.”

“Yeah, welcome to the human world,” you say. “It’s not all bad, though. See those pigeons? They’re kind of cute, right?”

He stares at the birds for a long moment, then tilts his head. “Consume?”

“No!” you hiss, your voice a little louder than intended. A couple walking past gives you a strange look, but you wave them off. “We do not eat the pigeons. We buy food from inside the store. That’s the whole point of this trip, remember?”

Mr. Crawling frowns, but his smile returns as fast as it left. “I understand!”

“Good. Great. Let’s go.”

The grocery store is just a few blocks away, and you’re relieved when the automatic doors slide open. The bright fluorescent lights and neatly stacked shelves feel almost comforting in their mundanity. It’s a sense of normalcy that you… kind of, but only kind of have at home. Your roommate-boyfriend-thing is a monster from another realm. 

Mr. Crawling, on the other hand, looks like a kid in a candy store. “Many object…” he murmurs, his head swivelling in every direction. “Human eat this?”

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a basket. “You’re about to see how humans stock up for the week. Ready?”

He nods, his grin widening. You just hope the poor cashier is ready for whatever this trip is about to become. You let Mr. Crawling hold the shopping basket in his lap, and push him down the first aisle. 

You knew Mr. Crawling wasn’t dumb by any means. He’s smart enough to pick up things from the TV, understands a majority of the stuff you say in your own language, but you’d never imagine that the day would come that you had to explain what broccoli was to him. 

“What this?”

“Little tree. You know tree?”

“Know tree… Little tree… Healthy?”

“Healthy. If you cook it.”

“Cook little tree…” 

You’ve mystified him. 

Your next aisle - the snack aisle - has Mr. Crawling enamoured. “What this?” he asks, picking up colourful chip bag after chip bag. If he had eyes, you knew he would be eyeing up those boxes of cookies like no tomorrow. 

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.”

“Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs.

Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

By the time you reach the checkout, the basket is loaded with a mix of essentials and Mr. Crawling’s curious additions- things like canned soup, frozen potato waffles, and a box of pudding cups that he grabbed without even asking. And of course, the box of cookies that you knew he would eye up eventually. 

The cashier barely glances at the two of you, though she does raise an eyebrow at Mr. Crawling’s hair. You pay quickly, and wheel him outside with your bags of groceries in tow.

As you head back home, he turns to you, clutching the bag of cheese puffs in his lap. “Shopping fun,” he declares, beaming. “Human smart.”

“Yeah, well, let’s see if you feel the same after cooking some of this stuff,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile. “Ready for that adventure next?”

He nods, munching a cheese puff as if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever tasted. “Cook tiny tree.”

You laugh. “Okay, Crawling. We can cook the broccoli together.”

[naamahdarling]

So, the other night in an effort to show a friend that LLMs can produce very credible fiction and relatively inventive ideas, I played with ChatGPT for about 10 minutes I was able to make my point flawlessly. Don't get up my ass about this, that's juvenile.

ChatGPT has watched enough Dropout to be able to reasonably (and genuinely amusingly) impersonate Brennan Lee Mulligan and, to a lesser extent, Sam Reich. It's successfully produced a script for Game Changer where the show was entirely about cats and Brennan couldn't win, and parts of it were actually funny. It also produced an AITA post from the point of view of Brennan Lee Mulligan AS DM OF DIMENSION 20 that was in places absolutely hilarious.

It is able to very successfully postulate a set of G1 my little ponies that do not actually exist, complete with colors, cutie marks, and back card stories. It had a little trouble with G1 versus G4 due to the sheer glut of content, but its ideas were genuinely appealing because the source material it was drawing on was designed to be appealing.

It generated a list of birthday party themes that would terrify an arachnophobe, two or three of which were really good. A request for it to generate a list of queer pride birthday ideas didn't produce anything particularly original, but it was all appropriate and convincing.

It produced a short script where Johnny Sims from the Magnus archives receives birthday gifts from his coworkers, and one of those was a knife-wielding tentacle. This script was in places a little less sharp than the actual writing, but it absolutely nailed the speech patterns, and each gift was appropriate to the character giving it. It was genuinely funny. In places it was clever. It actually made me laugh.

I have most of these saved if anybody wants to see them instead of playing with it themselves.

It really isn't a question of what has been dumped into the data set. We can just assume it has been dumped in there somehow.

We can't undo what has been done and we're never going to be able to name all of the people whose work has been used to train these datasets.

I have both positive and negative feelings, strong ones on both sides, about this technology. If someone wants to use this technology to create a script for a movie in the Predator franchise, or a sequel to their favorite book, or whatever, that is a neutral act. Profiting from that is highly questionable, passing it off as the real thing is completely indefensible, using this technology to replace writers and artists and real people doing ANY work where there is no benefit to humans (like identifying cancer cells -- "AI" does that) is the second worst thing that can be done with it.

That's what worries me about this. It could produce infinite Simpsons episodes without the need for a single writer. Eventually it will be able to animate them so accurately you could ask it to make it look like it had been recorded on a video cassette and it would be completely convincing. It would be able to imitate the voice actors perfectly.

We do not want corporations to have that power. Worker protections are critical. It isn't that AI produces art that is bad or soulless or whatever. Those are completely spurious arguments and irrelevant to any true discussion of whether or not it is ethical.

What matter is is that we keep this shit out of the hands people who want to delete us from the workforce. They aren't going to delete the data. We need to protect workers.

P.S. Artists, Disney and Adobe do not have your best interests at heart. Copyright issues are more complicated than they are being presented, and if you find yourself on the side of one of these companies in any capacity, re-examine literally everything you think immediately. Unions. You want unions.

For reference, because I think it's really important to bring this up as often as possible, the worst application of this technology I can think of would be deliberately or accidentally misapplying data that could be used to affect things like a person's medical care, criminal record, and credit score, all of which are actually currently things that a single company can do, APPRISS, now owned by Equifax, yes that Equifax, and fucking nobody, none of y'all, are freaking out about that even though it's the single most frightening thing I have seen in 20 years. I cannot overstate its potential to utterly destroy the lives of literally anyone who comes into contact with the system that uses it, and those are unbelievably common. They are currently selling their product to law enforcement so that cops and businesses can use it to predict who will engage in criminal behavior, I'm literally not kidding about that, they come right out and say it. It is being trained on existing data and refined constantly.

Enjoy breaking your leg and needing painkillers, which get you flagged in a medical database that will try to prevent you from accessing them in the future (already happening), and also entering you into a law enforcement database that knows you have taken them. Then add in whatever eldritch fuckery bringing credit bureaus into it would cause.

We aren't fucked, I'm not a doomer who insists that all people are terrible and that we have no future and we might as well let things burn, I do actually care about the world we live in and the people who populate it and I consider humans a delight rather than a plague, but we need to start seriously resisting the use of this shit by entities more powerful than us. They are already way ahead.

“I can now say with absolute confidence that many AI systems have been trained on TV and film writers’ work. Not just on The Godfather and Alf, but on more than 53,000 other movies and 85,000 other TV episodes: Dialogue from all of it is included in an AI-training data set that has been used by Apple, Anthropic, Meta, Nvidia, Salesforce, Bloomberg, and other companies. I recently downloaded this data set, which I saw referenced in papers about the development of various large language models (or LLMs). It includes writing from every film nominated for Best Picture from 1950 to 2016, at least 616 episodes of The Simpsons, 170 episodes of Seinfeld, 45 episodes of Twin Peaks, and every episode of The Wire, The Sopranos, and Breaking Bad.”

���

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. POLY MATSUHANA. ALCOHOL.

“What do you mean you don’t like making out?”

Makki looks at you like you’ve betrayed him, on his side of the couch with his half-full beer can in hand. “That’s the best part!”

You shrug. “Dunno. Just never been with the right person, I guess.”

“That’s some bullshit. Guys don’t even know how to kiss a girl right? We used to hunt, you know—“

“Makki sucks at it, too,” Issei chimes, leaning against the other end of the couch with his own can half-empty. He nurses it in one hand, lazily plays with a curl in the other. “Can’t say shit.”

“What the fuck? I’m such a good kisser,”

“You—“

“Wait, why do you know how good or bad he is?” you ask, turning towards Issei on your left.

Over your head, he and Makki share a grin.

“Actually? Forget I asked.”

“Don’t be green, friends kiss all the time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You slide your back down the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you focus back on the movie playing on the TV. Your cheeks feel hot.

You’re aware of their legs craned out to rest on the coffee table, a set on either side of you. You’re watching them out of your line of view, but when Makki’s head cranes back over the couch to look at the man to your left, you lose track of them.

They’re bickering, you can tell. Issei keeps breathing out little laughs and Makki’s making obscene hand gestures, shaking the cushions when he tries to reach behind you and smack him.

It’s the fifth time the couch jerks that you groan, pushing yourself back upright to break them up.

“Can you not?” you groan. “I’m trying to finish the movie?”

“I’ll stop when he admits I’m not a shit kisser.”

“Too much tongue, babe.”

“I was drunk!”

You swallow. “You’re probably both good kissers, okay? Settle it at that.”

They quiet after that.

The room gets quiet, save for the wind coming through the window and the movie playing still. There’s a steady picking on fraying cushion behind you, no doubt from Makki’s antsy hand.

“You think we’re both good?” Issei prods.

“Sure. Whatever floats your guys’ boats.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“How would I know, Issei?”

The three of you— you’re close enough friends by now that silence is rarely awkward, but you’re not dumb. You know what hole you just dug.

Dig your grave and lie in it, or whatever.

“You wanna find out, then?” he asks, maybe a little quieter if you’re paying close attention.

Makki is hot against your other side, leaning ahead to see the both of you as good as he can. You slink back a little into the sofa— you’re in deep literally and metaphorically.

Issei slips his hand up your leg, watching your lips part the second he sets his eyes on yours. It stays on the backside, coming back up to skip over your ass, resting on your back.

His other hand is hot on the side of your face, tilting your chin up so you’re almost touching him.

“Can I show you something?”

You huff a quick breath, and nod even quicker.

Issei takes you whole, it doesn’t feel like just a kiss. It’s not just lips, even though it starts that way— it’s a graze of his teeth against your jaw before he steals your breath away that makes you slump down the couch, an exchange of power that gives your all to him.

He’s languid and slow, tongue taunting yours and his hand dauntingly large on your side. Makki’s slips beneath his and then under your sweater, nails scratching beneath your navel as they span over your skin.

You forget to breathe. He tastes like espresso and a good time. You lose track of whose hands are which. You don’t know anyone but them. You forget any other lips who have ever tasted yours.

When you reach up into his hair, knotting your knuckles in his curls, Makki takes the back of your neck and pulls you back. You’re looking at Issei, but he doesn’t look mad.

He’s smiling. You blink. You’re looking at Makki, now, and he’s smiling too.

“My turn?” He says it like a question. He might be saying it like he’s begging.

Makki moves so he’s just about on top of you, coming from above when you lean your head back to see him from below. He’s quicker than Issei, hard against your teeth and against your thigh, dizzying in how he pushes and pulls, rutting against you like he’s always wanted this.

Issei tugs your leg over his, smoothing his hand up the inside of it, skipping over where you’re too sheepish to say you want it.

It rests on your stomach, fingertips dipping beneath your waistband as Makki groans so low it vibrates in your throat. They’re playing give and take with you, back and forth like magnets, closing in and giving you space again like a corset.

Issei’s hand cups your chest and Makki’s rests on your throat. You’re being swallowed whole, and all you want them to do is spit you up and do it all over again.

Then, the storm breaks, and when you come to, they’re starry-eyed and staring at you.

“What?” you gasp.

You turn your head back and forth, looking between them like you’re checking your blind spots. You still think somethings gonna come out of nowhere and hit you; bring you back to reality.

“Nothing,” Issei shrugs. But, he leans back. “Do you wanna stay overnight? Save you a drive in the dark.”

They surround you. They encapsulate you differently, like smoke and water. You’re hot and all too aware of the things you’d say yes to.

Makki’s fingers burn against your shoulder, dragging the collar of your top down your collarbone as you nod.

Issei grins, cheshire and warm. “Mm, good.”

[tinybeetiny]

Night Drives: J.W

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

Im on such a Wooyoung kick… maybe because of his birthday but ffuickckkckc I need him bad fr

->Starring: Wooyoung, Afab!reader ->Genre: SMUT SMUTTY SMUT ->Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24 If you don’t see your blog tagged I could not find it so I am so sorry 🥲 also just know I smile and kick my feet reading the responses… I love all of you 🥹 If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form ->Cw: Fingering, blowjob, road head, please be safe on the roads, two hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road please

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Ever since Wooyoung got his license he's been wanting to drive everywhere and anywhere. The grocery store that's just a 10-minute walk? Yup he's going to drive that 3 minutes instead.

The current time is 2:30am and you are driving aimlessly around with your antsy boyfriend. You're pretty sure you're about an hour away from the apartment but neither of you seems to care not when the roads are bare and the music is calming. His hand rests comfortably on your bare thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on your soft skin. You stare out of the window distracted by the passing lights, too distracted to notice his hand sliding further up your thigh. You didn't realize until he was pulling on the hem of your shorts. You look over in his direction to see his calm demeanor as if his hand wasn't moving to brush over your clothed heat. "Woo?" you see him smirk ever so slightly "What?" his look of innocence is a huge contrast to what his fingers were doing. You have to admit the way he looks driving with one hand is definitely a turn-on. His grip on the wheel tightens when you grab his hand and grind against his fingers. You let a little sigh at the feeling but you wanted more "Do you want me to finger you or something?" You look at him with a glare "Do you have to ask that way?" You groan and he just shrugs in response "Yes I want you to finger me" You say before slipping your shorts and panties off.

The filthy sound of your wet pussy squelching fills the car but they're barely audible over your moans "You like that pretty girl? I can tell by how wet you are" You clench around his fingers at his teasing and the way he curls them has you arching off the seat "Oh fuck Woo you're gonna make cum" You breathe out as your head falls back onto the headrest "That's it baby cum all over my fingers" He says before pressing his thumb to your clit. You grip his wrist teetering on the edge of your release and with one last swipe of his thumb, you're tumbling over. The prettiest noises leave your lips as you see stars brighter than the ones in the night sky. Wooyoung's fingers continue to move in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body jolts when his thumb continues to move against your clit. You whine and attempt to move his hand. "Did so good for me" He says as he slides his fingers out of you bringing them to his lips and sucking each digit clean.

You look over to see the tightness in his sweatpants and the need to have him in your mouth takes over. He looks at you with questioning eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt (I swear if you ever do this i will throw you in timeout so fast that the image of the corner will be tattooed in your brain) and adjust yourself so that you're facing him “Do you want me to suck your dick?” You ask with the straightest face ever “HAH what?” “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Suck. You. Dick?” You emphasize each word and he nods aggressively. His head falls back when you bring hand to palm him through his sweatpants feeling how hard he is. You grab his waistband and pull them down enough for his beard thick cock to spring out, slapping his stomach. You grip the base of his cock, leaning over giving his pretty red tip a little kiss. You hear suck breath in when your finally wrap your lips around his tip.

The feeling of your plump lips moving up and down on his cock was causing him to lose focus. He makes a sudden turning causing you to fall forward a little, his tip invading your throat as you gag. “Oh fuck do that again” he moans grabbing the back of your head pushing you down on him again. He couldn’t help but buck his hips at the feeling of your throat contracting around his cock. The sound of your gaging and lewd slurping made his stomach clench as he inched his way to his release. He lets out deep groans as you bob your head faster loving the salty taste on your tongue “Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that” his grip on your hair tightens as he shoots ribbons of cum down your throat “fuck fuck fuck oh god. Your mouth feels amazing”

You didn’t realize you had arrived back home until Wooyoung turned the car off “Get upstairs. Wanna fuck you so bad” he mumbles swinging the door open but you grab his arm before he can move “what if… we fuck in the backseat?” Without a second thought, he’s climbing over the seats.

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[merakiui]

a little scenario that’s been floating around in my head for a bit (◕ᴗ◕✿) soft non con with hybrid wolf Jade and a bunny girl darling…

Jade who’s going into rut, delirious and no way to properly relieve himself without a mate… maybe a walk through the forest will help him clear his head! He’s barely managing in his condition ;( all hot and stumbling over himself… this was a bad idea. maybe he should just find someplace to lay down. But he spots a little bunny girl in the bushes and next thing he knows his legs are working again and he’s chasing her through the forest!

The poor thing is trembling and kicking at him, but she’s no match for Jade’s strength! Surely she’s about to be eaten! But he’s more horny than hungry orz and she’s only slightly less fearful when he’s suddenly burying his face between her thighs. He’s not gonna eat her but he still wants a taste! She’s so small and soft and warm… and smells SO good. He won’t listen to her protests but is being surprisingly… gentle… doing his best to prep and stretch her out with his fingers (｡>﹏<) but it’s still so much when he’s finally inside!

Jade’s cooing sweet praises at her for taking him so well between pathetic whining and panting ( ;´ - `;) he wants to be slow but he can’t… it’s the sweetest relief he’s known! He passes out soon after knotting her, and after the swelling went down enough she took her chance to escape! He’s disappointed to see that she’s already gone when he wakes up :(

It’s a relief for her to still be alive after that encounter, but not so much in the following months… She better pray that she never runs into him again, cuz if Jade sees how pregnant she is with his pups he’s sure as hell not letting his little bunny girl escape a second time (๑-﹏-๑)

👁 👁 AAAAA THIS IS A FEAST!!!!! Anon, you have no idea how down bad I am for bunny x wolf dynamic…… orz and with wolf Jade as well,,, it’s over for me. OTL small bunnygirl with a belly full of pups… so heavily pregnant that all of the other bunnies in your village marvel over how you’re able to hold so many, all of them assuming those are baby bunnies. No one knows anything about the wolf you encountered and you won’t tell anyone because you’re too scared, fearing that the others in your village will panic if they think you led a wolf into your safe, peaceful home. >_<

But sometimes it really is so difficult to stand for long periods of time or do lots of work without breaks, and you have the appetite of a wolf now with so many pups!! You’re only a few months along, but you look like you’re at the end of your pregnancy, fit to burst and give birth any moment. You avoid doctor appointments because you worry they’ll be able to tell what really happened even though everything is completely confidential and Dr. Rosehearts would never do such a thing!

Aaaaa imagine instead of encountering Jade again it’s his twin brother…… Floyd who only finds you because you smell familiar (like a wolf or maybe like his family), so he’s confused when he parts the bushes to find…a bunny??? And you panic because you think it’s him—the wolf who chased you down and fucked into you like a mindless beast. Floyd who tries to speak softly and sweetly to get you to calm down. You’re so pregnant. He doesn’t want to stress you out. :< maybe you can come back to his home and he can make you something nice to eat as an apology for spooking you. You must be starving, right?

Wolf Floyd who unintentionally leads you right to Jade. :)

[luvismenu]

08 — a motherfuckin' train wreck ✎ ,, index

wc: 4.2k

note: i am sorry idk abt the warnings cuz the whole chapter is messy 😭 and yes you guys guessed it right (iseul's gonna make an appearance!)

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

@internetrando64 @jkvias @134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24

“i am rethinking. about us.”

her words from the night before wouldn’t stop echoing in his head

jungkook exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. his gaze unfocused, caught somewhere between the present and the past.

iseul.

she had been everything to him once.

his first real relationship. his first real love.

the memories came flooding back, uninvited and relentless. the way her laugh used to light up a room, how her hand had felt so perfectly small and warm in his, those late night talks where they dreamed up futures that, deep down, he always feared were too perfect to last.

but with those good memories came the ones that stung like old wounds being reopened. the arguments that spiraled over nothing, the long silences that spoke louder than words, the way she’d criticize him without realizing how deeply it cut.

he always held himself back with her. constantly.

he never told her how much it hurt when she brushed off his insecurities like they were nothing or when she dismissed his emotions because she was too consumed by her own. every fight left him questioning himself, every moment of indifference making him feel like he was chasing something he could never quite reach.

he loved her.

god, he loved her with everything he had. but it was like pouring water into a cup with a crack. it was never enough to fill it.

so why, after all this time, did a part of him still miss her?

his jaw tightened as the question lingered, gnawing at him.

do i even miss her? he thought, his fists clenching against the edge of his desk. or is it just the feeling of someone being there for him?

he wasn’t sure. maybe it was the comfort or the familiarity, the security of knowing someone so deeply. even if they never truly knew you back.

he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. just as he was about to shut the door on the memories, another one crept in.

“i miss you.”

it felt so real. and maybe that’s why he felt so thrown. because she had always been his first. and part of him wasn’t ready to accept that she is now his past.

he didn’t even notice when he started pacing around the room, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic mess. the sound of students outside didn’t register. he couldn’t stop replaying it all in his head; the good, the bad, and the confusing.

then his phone dings.

the sound cuts through the noise in his head, drawing his attention away from the chaos of his own thoughts. he glances at the screen, and it’s a text from you.

he can't see you right now. not with everything that’s been weighing on him. he won’t be able to talk to you like everything’s fine, like nothing’s wrong.

but he still wants to see you.

he wants to apologise for giving you the cold shoulder last night. that was not okay. he knows it.

he texts you back and when he sees—

y/n: can you take me home,, i feel weird

the words are simple, but they hit him like a jolt. his shoulders tense as worry rushes in, overtaking everything else in his mind.

without hesitation, he types back.

he doesn’t give himself time to think. he shoves his phone back into his pocket, glancing at the clock on the wall. the campus café is all the way on the other side of the building. ten minutes feels like a stretch, but it doesn’t matter.

jungkook grabs his bag, tossing his scattered papers into it with little care, and slings it over his shoulder.

the weight of everything else; iseul, the confusion, the lingering ache of his pastfades into the background. right now, all he cares about is getting to you

but then, as if summoned by his thoughts, a voice broke through the haze.

“jungkook.”

his heart sinks.

he turned, and there she was. iseul. standing there like a ghost from his past, her presence pulling him under like a tide he couldn’t fight.

“we need to talk,” she said softly, taking a step closer.

he froze, every instinct screaming at him to leave, to walk away before he fell back into the same cycle of hurt and longing.

“what are you doing here? iseul, i—” he started, but the words died in his throat.

“just..,” she interrupted. “hear me out.”

he shook his head. “this isn’t a good time. i have to—”

“please,” she interrupted again, stepping closer. “just a few minutes. that’s all i’m asking.”

hs wanted to say no. to tell her it was too late.

he wanted to walk away, to find you and make sure you were okay. but another part of him—the part that still hadn’t figured out how to let go of her—kept him rooted to the spot, like he's caught between the person he used to be and the person he iis now.

“why now?” he asked quietly,

“because i can’t stop thinking about you,” she said, her voice trembling. “about us. jungkook, i know it's messed up, but i... i don’t want to lose you for good.”

her words hit him like a weight, but they didn’t bring the clarity he thought they would. instead, they only added to the mess in his head.

“iseul,” he started, but his voice faltered.

“we were good together, weren’t we?” she asked, her tone almost pleading. “don’t you miss it?”

he clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists before slowly loosening them again. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

it was the truth.

he didn’t know what he missed anymore. was it her? the person she used to be? or was it just the memories of her, those glimpses of a time that felt simpler, even if it wasn’t?

“have you.. have you moved on? from me?” iseul’s voice was light, almost disbelieving, like the idea of him letting go was unfathomable.

he stood there, silent, confusion swirling in his chest like a storm he couldn’t calm.

“i want to,” he said at last, his voice steady but low.

her breath hitched. “why? don’t you love me, jungkook?” her voice trembled, the edge of desperation creeping in. “you love me, right? remember what you told me? you loved being with me. you told me you’d always love me. you love me, don't you?”

he didn’t respond immediately. her words wrapped around him, tight and suffocating, dragging him back to moments he wasn’t sure he wanted to revisit.

“iseul, you were my everything. but i... wasn’t yours.” his voice was low and steady.

her eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. “what are you even talking about? honey, i loved—” she hesitates, catching herself, “i love you.”

he let out a bitter chuckle, one that held no warmth. it was hollow, sharp. “you loved me?” he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “is this why you broke up with me? because you got tired of me, isn’t it?”

“no, i—”

“i was showing off, wasn’t i? that’s what you said. that i was trying to prove i was better than you. isn’t that it?”

she opened her mouth but no words came out. her silence was damning, and he felt the old wound tearing open again.

“how do you expect me to come back after that?” he asked slowly, his voice softer but cutting, his eyes burning into hers. “after you told me how you really thought about me?”

“i-i’m sorry, jungkook—” her voice wavered, cracking under the weight of his glare.

“shut up.” his words were sharp, final, a wall slamming down between them.

she frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. “you found someone else, didn’t you?” her voice softened, but the edge was unmistakable.

jungkook’s jaw tightened. “that’s not—”

“it is, isn’t it?” she interrupted, stepping closer, her gaze searching his face. “you wanna move on, it’s because of her, isn’t it?”

“iseul,” he said firmly, taking a step back, “this isn’t about anyone else."

“no, it’s about you forgetting me!,” she said, her tone turning sharp. “you’re moving on like none of it mattered. after everything we had? after everything i gave you?”

he stared at her, disbelief flashing across his features. “everything you gave me? iseul, you walked away. you ended things.”

“because you made it impossible!” she snapped, her voice trembling, but not with sadness, it was frustration. “you were always so… so needy, jungkook. always wanting more from me than i could give, and now you’re giving that part of yourself to someone else? it’s not fair.”

“not fair?” he repeated, his voice rising. “iseul, do you even hear yourself? you’re the one who—”

“but you still love me,” she said suddenly, her tone dropping into something softer, almost pleading. “i know you do. you can’t just stop loving someone like me. i can see it in your eyes, jungkook. don’t lie to me.”

he shook his head, trying to clear the fog of her words, her voice wrapping around his thoughts like vines. “iseul, this—”

“come back to me,” she whispered, her hand brushing his arm, her touch cold despite its gentleness. “we can make it work this time. i’ll be better, i promise. you will be better. don’t throw us away because of some stupid misunderstanding.”

he pulled his arm away, his chest tightening with a mix of anger and something he couldn’t quite name. “you don’t get it do you? you don't get to decide this anymore.”

“jungkook,” she said, her voice trembling, a tear sliding down her cheek. “please.”

but he could see through it now. the desperation in her voice wasn’t love. it was control. it was the fear of losing something she always controlled. something she can use for her own satisfaction.

without another word, he turned his back on her, to walk away.

“she will hate you!” iseul’s voice broke through the quiet, it was sharp. there was no pain in her tone, only anger, her tears more of a weapon than a sign of sadness.

he stiffened at her words, but he didn’t stop. his steps were steady, as he moved further away from her.

“you’ll fuck this up with her too!” she spat, her voice trembling with frustration. “just like you always do, jungkook! you ruin every fucking thing!”

he clenched his fists, his shoulders tightening for a brief moment, but he didn’t look back. he kept walking. each step felt heavier, but he told himself it was the right thing. he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. not anymore.

as he reaches the exit of the building, he remembers..

you.

you asked him to take you home.

that's when he realizes,

he messed up.

his chest tightens as he pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling to unlock it. there are a few unread texts from you. each message making it clear that you aren’t doing well.

his stomach churns. he clenches his jaw, pushing down the wave of guilt threatening to consume him. without wasting another second, he strides towards the café, his pace quick and uneven, his breaths coming heavier with each step.

when he finally arrives, his eyes scan the room, darting between the tables, searching desperately for you.

but you’re not here.

the sight of the empty chair where he expected you to be makes his heart drop.

he told you he would be there.

but he wasn't.

panic floods him as he unlocks his phone, his heart racing. there’s no new message from you, no call. just silence. he swallows thickly, the guilt clawing at him.

what if you waited too long? what if you left because he made you feel like you couldn’t count on him?

fuck.

“you’re crazy, you know that?”

“heard that a lot before,” you chuckle tiredly, lifting the glass of water to your lips. the cool liquid does little to ease the heaviness in your chest.

min yoongi glares at you, crossing his arms.

“you should be glad i was going to meet someone from campus and happened to see you,” he says, standing stiffly beside your bed like he’s holding back a lecture.

“t-thanks, min yoongi, for bringing me home and taking care of me,” you mumble, offering a small smile.

he sighs, his expression softening. “just call me yoongi.”

you nod, your smile growing a little, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“seriously, though, what were you doing there alone?” he asks, his tone concerned but firm.

you freeze for a moment, your fingers tightening around the glass. you remember. you were waiting for jungkook.

and now, the memory stings.

it was stupid of you to even ask him. why would he help you? you’re not even close friends. you’re just... you don’t even know what you are.

your chest tightens with a mixture of emotions.

anger. sadness. disappointment.

he’s been distant and you’ve ignored it, convincing yourself it was fine, that it's none of your business.

but this? this was too much.

“i... i was going to call someone, but then you saw me,” you lie, forcing a casual shrug.

yoongi narrows his eyes slightly, not missing the hesitation in your voice. “call who?”

right. of course, he’d ask. he knows how lonely you are.

“i don’t know, someone.” you say quickly, hoping it sounds believable.

yoongi exhales deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “next time, at least call jungkook. i won’t always be hanging around that area, you know.”

your head snaps up, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “why would i? it's not like we're friends.”

his brows lift in surprise. “not friends?”

“we’re hooking up. that’s it. nothing more.”

his lips press into a thin line, and he nods slowly. he doesn’t push further, though you can see the questions in his eyes.

“i’ll get you some meds. take some rest, okay?” he says finally, his voice softer now.

you nod, watching as he leaves the room, the sound of his footsteps fading.

as soon as the door clicks shut, you sigh and sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

this is stupid. all of it.

as yoongi heads to the front door of your apartment; a small plastic bag with medicines in hand, he stops short when he sees jungkook standing there. his breathing is uneven, his chest rising and falling like he just ran all the way up the stairs.

“jungkook? what are you doing here?” yoongi asks, his brows furrowing in surprise.

jungkook glances at him, his expression a mixture of worry and hesitation, like he’s not sure if he should be there at all. “___... is she here?” he asks, his voice low and strained.

“yeah, i just brought her home,” yoongi replies, still studying him. “she has a bit of a fever and—”

“is she okay?” jungkook cuts him off, stepping closer. “did you take her to the hospital?”

yoongi blinks at the urgency in his voice, raising a hand to calm him. “it’s just a fever, jungkook. she said she hasn’t been sleeping much these past few days. she'll be alright if she takes some rest.”

jungkook exhales, his shoulders slumping slightly as relief washes over him.

“what are you doing here anyway? don’t you have the expo to prepare for?” yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

jungkook shifts on his feet, looking down for a moment. “i... i need to give her the book,” he says, the words hesitant and unconvincing. “so, yeah.”

yoongi glances down at jungkook's hands, his brow furrowing slightly as he notices the obvious absence of the book he was supposed to bring.

yoongi doesn’t buy it for a second, but he doesn’t push.

“how did you find her?” jungkook asks, clearly wanting to steer the conversation away from himself.

“i was going to meet jimin at the café and saw her there,” yoongi explains. “girl looked like she was about to faint. i keep telling her to stop overworking herself, but you know how she is.”

jungkook’s jaw tightens as he listens, guilt creeping into his expression.

“are you guys...” yoongi starts, pausing as he studies him. “fighting?”

jungkook looks taken aback, blinking rapidly. “n-no. why?”

yoongi shrugs casually, though his eyes are sharp. “nothing. just curious.”

he holds out the bag. “here, give these to her.” his voice softens slightly. “and both of you, calm down.”

jungkook hesitates for a moment before taking the bag, gripping it tightly as yoongi steps aside to leave. he watches as yoongi walks away.

jungkook steels himself, his hand hovering over the doorknob. he isn’t sure what he’s going to say, but he knows he needs to see you.

you close your eyes again, trying to steady your thoughts, but they keep circling back to him.

jungkook.

why does he have this hold on you?

he's just someone you're hooking up with, nothing more. at least, that's what you keep telling yourself. you shouldn’t be so worked up over this. it’s not like you’re dating, or even that close outside of… whatever this is.

but still, you asked for him. for once, you needed something more than just hooking up.

you can take care of yourself. it's not even a big deal, you've been through worse but earlier today, for some reason, you needed him to just be there. with you.

and he wasn’t.

a bitter laugh bubbles in your throat as you think about it. maybe this was your mistake. leaning on someone who wasn’t meant to be leaned on.

but then, another thought creeps in, one you wish would stay buried.

maybe it wasn’t his fault. he did say he was busy, with all the chaos around the business expo. he must be exhausted too, running himself into the ground like he always does.

and it’s not like you ever check on him.

what right do you have to be mad?

how can you be mad at him?

but then the memory of sitting at that café alone, feeling sick and hoping he’d come, flashes in your mind.

fuck that.

how can you not be mad at him?

you sigh, opening your eyes and staring blankly at the ceiling.

and just when you think you’ve finally managed to push him out of your mind, you hear the sound of the front door closing. you assume it’s yoongi coming back with the meds, so you don’t bother looking.

but then his footsteps sound different, heavier than yoongi’s usual quiet steps. your brows furrow as the sound grows closer, and before you can fully register it, there he is.

jeon jungkook.

he steps into the room, a plastic bag in his hand, his expression tense and unmistakably guilty. his eyes find yours, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something, but no words come out.

you blink at him, sitting up slightly, your emotions a mix of disbelief, anger, and something you can’t quite name.

“jungkook,” you say, his name barely more than a whisper, a mix of disbelief and something sharper laced in your tone.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you, as though trying to figure out what to say or whether to even say anything at all. the tension hangs heavy in the air, and it takes everything in you not to crumble over your own emotions.

“hey,” he finally breathes out, his voice soft but uneven.

you sit up straighter, “what are you doing here?”

he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at the plastic bag in his hand. “you weren’t feeling well and-”

“and you suddenly care?” you bite back, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

he flinches at your tone, his gaze meeting yours, and for a second, you see something vulnerable flash across his face.

he takes a step closer, his voice soft. “of course i care—”

“then where were you?” you snap. “where was all this care when i just wanted you to...” your words trail off, stuck in your throat.

to take care of me? to be there for me?

you shake your head at yourself, biting back the words.

that’s ridiculous.

this shouldn’t even matter.

but why does it matter?

why do you care about him not showing up?

“i had to take care of something,” he says, carefully placing the plastic bag on your bed. his tone feels apologetic, but it doesn’t reach you.

you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “something?” you repeat bitterly, your voice laced with doubt.

he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “i... i met someone, okay?” his gaze flickers away from yours, like he can’t bear to meet it. “and i don’t know, i froze a little. she... well, that doesn’t matter. the point is that, i know i took too long. i know i messed up. i’m sorry, ___. i didn’t mean to stand you up like that.”

she.

that one word hits you harder than you expect, twisting something deep inside your chest. you can’t stop the flood of thoughts racing through your mind.

someone else.

he was with someone else.

your jaw tightens, and you try to keep your voice steady, but it comes out colder than you intended. “and that’s supposed to make this better?”

he doesn't say anything

“why are you here, jungkook?”

“i wanted to check on you, i am worried.” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual.

“check on me?” you repeat, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “you weren’t too worried when you left me waiting.”

his jaw tightens now, and he takes a tentative step closer. “i know. i messed up, alright? i know i did. that’s why i’m here.”

you scoff, turning away from him as frustration bubbles up inside you. “what do you want me to say, jungkook? that it’s okay? that i’ll just forget about it? i feel stupid to think that i even texted you.”

“___.” he says quickly, his voice firmer now. “i’m not asking you to forget it. i just... i just want you to know i didn’t mean for it to happen. i didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

“but you did,” you snap, spinning back to face him.

his face falls, and for a moment, you almost feel bad. almost.

you mentally curse yourself for letting your emotions take control. this is stupid. he’s not even your boyfriend. why should it matter who he was with? or what he was doing with her?

this shouldn't be a big deal.

but you can’t stop it, the anger building up inside you. “it’s not even about this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’ve been acting distant lately, and i get it, you’ve got your own things going on, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like this. it makes me feel... i don’t even know, it just feels really fucking awful. and let me be clear, i’ve got my own stuff to handle too. nd i don't want to feel this way. if you're busy and you can't be there, just fucking tell me that you’ve got other things going on. don't think i'm gonna be okay with just waiting around and dealing with it.” your eyes snap at him. “i will not play that game.”

he lets out a deep breath and looks at you. “it’s not a game, okay? i just... i had to deal with something. and the moment i could, i came straight to you. i feel shitty about it. and let me be clear too. i would never do something like this to you, not again.”

“okay, good.” you deadpan.

silence.

“you should rest,” he says, his voice quieter now.

“yeah," you reply, not even looking at him, your eyes fixed on the bed, anything but him.

“do you need any-”

“jungkook.” you cut him off, your voice steady but sharp. you finally look up at him, eyes cold. “i need to be alone. please, leave.”

he just sighs, his face falling. “okay.” he nods, his voice low, almost defeated.

without another word, he turns and walks out, the door clicking softly behind him.

and as the silence settles in again, you sigh.

“i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck.”

[iamespecter]

THIS.... OH MY GOD. THIS.

...THIS IS SUCH A GREAT ANALYSIS. THIS MAKES ME LOVE JAX EVEN MORE EVEN THOUGH I HAVE THE TENDENCY TO HATE ASSHOLE CHARACTERS.

And admittedly enough, if this analysis needs proof that this can happen to people in real life, I think I'm proof enough of that. I'm a person who doesn't really deal with what life throws at me very well, like yeah sure, I can act silly and goofy online but the moment I step away from the screen and reality seeps in?

... All I can really say is that I don't have a good coping mechanism for all the trauma I went through growing up in an abusive household. I even remember how it started: Memorizing the entire Kung Fu Panda movies and going to a secluded area, pretending I'm the characters because it came from a place of wanting to beat up my physically and verbally abusive, asshole of a father.

I'm not even kidding; sometimes when things are really really bad for me, I'll stare off into a wall or the floors and imagine an invisible audience that can hear my thoughts as they observe me like you would a TV show, and those thoughts slowly devolve into a third person narration that's either describing my motivation, my plans, my next move, or talking like it's an entirely separate entity from me.

When I'm in the bathroom, I talk to myself like I'm in a talk show in order to lessen the buzzing thoughts occupying my head. Keeping silent so that my cover isn't blown.

I've even entertained my friends that I prefer to be an NPC and while I don't say it to them often (because of fear of being thought of mentally insane, who could imagine), it always crosses my mind when I walk down a street, thinking "what if I was a background character, experiencing the world that I'm meant to be worldbuilding fodder for".

Listening to music helps stop these thoughts because the music blasts it all out, leaving no space for any crazy thoughts like that.

But to hear this analysis and to finally understand what pulls me to Jax that other asshole characters can't.... it's... I don't know how to feel. A part of me feels seen, but a part is also just... preventing me from further spiraling at the realization.

It's scary to admit this. It's downright horrifying, even, that I have a pit forming at my stomach as I tell this. To not only admit it to myself, but to also admit this publicly, where people would think I'm not mentally sound. Perhaps I am, perhaps I actually need help as much as I wanna say I don't, but I still wanna get this out there.

With Gooseworx all but confirming that the Jax being an AI thing is bullshit, I personally want to talk about an interesting part about Jax that a lot of theorists used as "evidence" that validates the theory:

Jax's fourth wall breaks are a common topic brought up amongst the "Jax is an NPC" theory. After all, Caine broke the fourth wall in the pilot, knowing full well that the world of The Amazing Digital Circus isn't real and is talking to some unseen viewer as he introduces the Circus Crew.

There's also this bit of official art surrounding Jax's pin:

Where everyone else is inside their room, Jax is outside as pieces of the circus fall apart around him and all of reality to crash. Certainly lends itself to this idea that Jax knows he's not a real person and that his presence could cause great disruption to this world. And he doesn't care because none of it is real. Might as well have fun and cause chaos in a world that doesn't exist.

And I'll admit, all of this seems like valid claims for how the theory could be true. I saw it all and thought that it surely COULD be possible...but there are some things that stop me from being convinced.

Firstly, Caine breaking the fourth wall in the pilot doesn't really seem like an AI talking to the audience. It looks more like an AI programmed to talk to a player as a game boots up. What we saw in the opening could be more like a morning routine that he has to do at least once a day. Plus, we've yet to see any other NPC talk to the audience like Jax has. He explicitly called out the viewers in episode three, knowing full well he's being watched by SOMEONE. Or, at the very least, acting like he is. What do I mean by that? Well, to explain, I'd like to use one of my favorite fourth wall breakers as an example:

Deadpool, in most adaptations, knows fully well that he's a fictional character. He'll talk to the readers/viewers, move the camera around, and constantly talk shit to the writers/studio for occasionally screwing him over. It's all in good (Sometimes bloody) fun...but there's a canonical reason for this. It's not like She-Hulk where the fourth wall breaks are a way to tell HER stories HER way. You see, Deadpool...is just fucking insane.

No, really, that's the reason. Due to the trauma of gaining his powers, Deadpool's mind breaks and he's led to believe that he MUST be a fictional character. In comics, he actually gets voices in his head that makes him think he must be some comic book superhero, and the movies implied that something similar happened given how he never broke the fourth wall ONCE before getting his powers. This means him breaking the fourth wall could be seen as a coping mechanism. After all, it's better to believe you're a fictional character designed to entertain some invisible audience than believe that all of the shitty things that happened to you and people close to you is just a cruel joke from the universe.

Sound familiar?

Going back to the pilot, remember how Pomni's first instinct was to say that the Circus was all just a dream? To her, it's better to live in a lie that everything around her isn't real than to accept the reality that she's stuck in digital purgatory. Jax very well could be going through something similar, but unlike Pomni who seemed to just accept her reality, Jax never did. The trauma of being stuck in the Circus had led to his mind breaking just like Pomni's, Kinger's, and anyone else's. It's just that, for him, he thinks he's coping with it better because he discovered the secret that no one else did: None of this is real.

They're not actually people trapped in some hellscape while an AI unintentionally tortures them. They're all just fictional characters whose tragedies and silly antics are used to entertain viewers. I mean, it's either that or they're real people forever trapped in the circus with the closest thing to death being a full, psychotic break as they give up their sanity because they no longer want to exist in this hell anymore...But that possibly can't be true. Because if that IS true, then Jax has to face that he's a real person stuck in a real, awful situation that he can't joke his way out of. So, it's best to think nothing is real and nothing they do matter. So, might as well have fun with it.

Going back to the pin...

I don't think this is damning evidence about Jax being an NPC. Actually, it perfectly captures who he is as a character. He knows the circus isn't real. He even thinks HE isn't real. So instead of grappling with that, Jax lets himself believe that if nothing is real than nothing he does matters. He can break things, ruin lives, and assist in torturing the others in the circus. It's what he thinks will make the show more entertaining, even though all he's really entertaining is himself so his mind doesn't break more than it does.

Now, could the same apply if he's an NPC? Well...maybe. Gumigoo definitely proves how far someone could fall when they're told their world is fake. He was about ready to give up on life because he didn't think he had one. If Jax was an NPC, I could see him having a similar break, but going in the far opposite direction where, instead of giving up on life, he chooses to live the way HE wants it. Instead of being some one-off NPC for a lame adventure, he could go off on adventures of his own and ruin the lives of others now that his is thoroughly ruined.

However, Gooseworx makes a good point: "...a lot of people come up with theories based on how unexpected they'd be, and not because they make sense or align with the show's themes."

If Jax is an NPC, it would harm the overall message of the show. That there's meaning to be found in a stagnant life, and you find that meaning with people close to you who make that life worth living. Jax represents a sort of foil to that idea, with his way of coping with the madness being pure chaos and breaking others. It's his coping mechanism, and it works because it shows how human Jax really is. They're ALL human and they have human desires and wants, with the Circus pretty much stripping that away and leaving them...as they are now. They're emotionally broken, their sanity is decreasing, and some of them are losing all sense of self. By making Jax an NPC, it would definitely be surprising, but it would take away from that idea. It no longer makes him a human facing his own tragedy but instead an AI that's just as broken as Gummigoo. More than that, it gives the others an easy out. All the crew has to do is tell Caine that Jax is an NPC and POOF! No more annoyance. So making him someone who HAS to stay with the others and they're forever forced to deal with him also adds more to THEIR tragedy and torture.

Jax being an NPC is an interesting theory, but I don't think it's one that SHOULD be true. To me, it's more fascinating watching Jax treat the world around him as meaningless knowing he's a human instead of a rogue NPC breaking everything. And Gooseworx made it clear how they feel about it. Now, could it potentially be a mislead to get fans off the trail? Genuinely...I don't think so. That sounded very "I don't like this idea so it's not gonna happen" type of response. Still, we won't know until the show wraps up. Anything can happen, but don't get your hopes up if a character who does bad things to people that don't deserve it is more human than you think.

[saturnicos]

. . ⟩ 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗒

› paring: ororon x gn!reader

› cw/tw: just holding hands

› notes: just something silly i wanted to write but it got sm long and bad in the end D: + no proofread

Sunny days were predominant in Natlan even in the densest parts of the forests, mostly representing a subtropical climate in the region. Despite the heat that scorched the entire region during the day, the early evenings were cool with the light cold breezes that passed through, making it a good time for calmer outdoor activities.

Underneath a large and firm tree, you and Ororon rested against it while talking peacefully; the topics ranged from how his garden was going to how his activities in the tribe were going. Despite being frequent moments — since visiting Ororon every evening became something intrinsic to his routine — they all seemed new in the same way, regardless of what.

Ororon felt the same way despite his fears about the condition of his own soul; he would often apologize for any minor misfortune you had during the day in the tribe or in the moments of talking with him, and then all those times you would reassure him that he didn't need to apologize for things that can happen sometimes.

You enjoy his company, so you wouldn't mind even if these misfortunes could be coming from him.

— ...and then granny fell asleep on the table, still holding the glass of drink tightly! I couldn't get out of her grip. — releasing a sigh with false frustration that was soon followed by a laugh, you finished telling a story that had happened to the matriarch in a casual moment to the young bat beside you, who laughed without hesitation.

— Yes, that's just like her... That sounded rude, in fact it seems like something she would casually do. — he replied in return, scratching one of his eyes and adjusting his posture against the large tree, having a weak and low laugh that was still audible. You just smiled.

A moment of silence filled the air; not unpleasant or uncomfortable, but rather a comforting silence that seemed to fill a void. Looking at the sky, you noticed a curious pattern that was formed not far away: stars so close and aligned that they formed the shape of a bat, and right next to it there was a cluster that seemed to form your own symbol.

— Look! — you pointed towards the constellations, looking with fascination at their formation so well positioned on the horizon; both shone beautifully in the sky, now seeming to outshine the other stars around them.

Ororon soon moved slightly to your side, looking clearly in the direction you were pointing and letting a happy smile form in an instant. — Hey, what a great coincidence! I remember that granny knew some legends about constellations.

— One of the things they taught me was about their movement and how rare it is! If you are lucky enough to see two constellations very close to each other, it means that the respective people will also forever be very... — you chattered while remembering one of the myths that were common in your family and often used in astrological superstition overall, remembering how it was recited. However, as you got closer to the end, you assimilated the mythology behind the constellation and how it paralleled the moment between you and Ororon, leaving your voice suddenly broken and low. — ... close.

Feeling reality finally fall on your shoulders, your eyes widened slightly in surprise and a wave of nervousness flooded your mind, unconsciously bringing the feeling of your face heating up and fixing your gaze on Ororon. You wanted to deflect, you really did.

Ororon didn't look that different. Under the reflected light of the moon, his face seemed to take on a reddish hue as his gaze periodically shifted to different spots in the landscape, but he still seemed to have a calm countenance adorning his face.

— W-well, it's just an old and traditional myth, the movement of the stars has nothing to do with it. — you quickly tried to cut the subject short, moving away just a little when you felt the closeness between you two. You normally didn't feel this nervous, but the topic seemed to be enough at this moment.

Ororon, on the other hand, despite his slight blush, seemed calmer than you as he rested his arm on top of his bent knee, seeming to search for something in the back of his mind to say while still contemplating the sky.

— I... I hope so, it would be something cool. — with hesitation, these few words came out of Ororon's mouth as if they were trapped, tied by a knot, and finally managed to free themselves. You could see the young bat's gaze falter for a moment before he lowered his hood over his head, muttering something that sounded like "sorry."

You let out a low, nervous laugh despite the awkwardness that hovered in the room, hesitantly rubbing a hand on Ororon's back as a way of showing comfort even though you still felt nervous.

— No, it's okay! I... I think I would too. It would be cool. — you said almost in a whisper to nothing, being too nervous and embarrassed to give yourself the luxury of saying them with confidence, contenting yourself with just repeating what Ororon had said.

In turn, Ororon found the courage to turn his face just a little to the side despite keeping his hood pulled, meeting his nervous gaze that tried — emphasis on tried — to convey some kind of calm and tranquility.

Even with shame and hesitation being feelings heavily present in the environment, almost as if it were something physical suffocating you, Ororon allowed himself to lift his head in one act, gently holding your hand, which was previously rubbing his back, and intertwining your fingers with his, as if he was trying to convey the same feeling of comfort that you felt.

You didn't say anything, but you were sure that words weren't necessary at that moment, contenting yourself with squeeze his hand and relaxing against the tree again next to him, humming a subtle song while you could see a smile present on Ororon's face.

[phyrestartr]

Nemesis (The Man I Miss) | Miguel O'hara x M!BlackCat!Reader (TEASER)

CW: jealousy, violence, brutality, self-loathing, implied depression, possessive relationship #NSFW, Top!Miguel, Bottom!Reader, hurt/comfort, anti-hero reader, complicated relationships, lonely reader, crook turned hero, reader is a tired guy, mutual pining - Note: Posting some WIPs I've had laying around for a while while I try to finish up the next HOUND update! Needed a bit of a break from it since it's pretty long, but I hope some teasers make up for the wait. Tysm for reading!

Taking care of Nueva York was exhausting. You were far too used to being the problem rather than the problem-solver. That job reserved itself for the one and only Spiderman–your Spiderman. 

At least, you liked to think he was yours. 

Knowing my luck, the prick’s run off with his shocking wife or something. The thought plagued your mind too often. And it was true: Spiderman disappeared. He no longer served Nueva York and kept it safe, he no longer caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, he no longer gave chase throughout the city before pinning you down on some rooftop and taking his prize by force. And you liked it–no, you loved it. Fucking with the man who’d always get to fuck you back came to be a part of life you relished. 

But now you were alone. Left by yourself to deal with lumbering lizards and giggling goblins while wondering how the fuck you’d ended up as a hero when you were anything but. Even the police couldn’t believe the switch, which caused some problems, and led to less-sexy chases that ended with you getting away no problem. 

I wish I had problems. Just one problem, though: Spiderman. 

You tossed aside your shiny leathers and collapsed into your bed. He’d never been there, no, but you fantasized about it. You thought about his impossibly wide back and the ripple of taut muscle greeting you in the morning, or maybe his built chest and strong neck–or maybe his handsome face–well, you’d never seen his face, but you had your guesses. 

Your chest twinged the slightest bit, somewhere between where your greed and feelings intertwined.

Ugh. You missed him. 

–

“Who's that?” Peter remarked as he walked up on Miguel. The lab was dark and dreary, spilling with shades of orange and amber where the blues couldn't reach. And Miguel, the source of the cold, stood in front of the firelight, gazing upon your image in the newscycle. 

Miguel frowned. “No one.” But he didn't tuck your image nor the article away. 

“Huh, looks like Black Cat. A 2099 Black Cat? Never thought I'd see the day.” Peter hummed and bounced a sleepy Mayday in his arms. “He up to no good?” 

“He's up to good,” Miguel bit out. “That's the problem. He doesn't do good.” 

“He's sort of an anti-hero these days,” Lyla cut in, blinking into existence on Peter's shoulder like the devil she was. “All thanks to Spiderman's influence–” 

“Lyla,” Miguel warned (begged?). 

“--aaand their sweet, cute budding romance,” she finished with a dreamy sigh. “Doesn't it just melt your heart?” 

–

You pinned him against the wall and let your hands trace through the hard lines of his muscles on your way down to your ultimate prize. Spiderman shuddered and stayed still, much to your surprise, letting you feel him, letting you acknowledge the hardness bulging under your criminal touch. Because he dreamt of this too. Dreamt of you touching him, of you falling down to your knees, your eyes never leaving his masked face even when you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to stretched fabric holding back his filled cock. 

“So strong,” you cooed, “but not strong enough to resist, hm?” You sighed and worked him through the fabric with one hand. “Shouldn’t you be stopping the big bad from manhandling you like this, Spidey?”

“Hardly consider you the big bad,” he scoffed back. Spiderman tilted his head back with a choked groan whent hose diamond-tipped clawed gloves dug into his thighs. “Mierda, you–”

“Oh?” You grinned, so cheshire, so in-theme with your persona. “You can stop me any time, no?” 

He could’ve. But he didn’t. 

–

“A daughter,” you murmured. The flickering images–memories, maybe?–were there, waiting quietly for you, preserved and kept precious in shades of amber. But the scene was so alive; you could feel the stretch of the sun against your gloved touch, you basked in the crisp Spring air of that soccer game, you drowned in the warmth of that father's smile–

Spidey's smile. That was beyond obvious. The mountainous shoulders, the tawny skin, those hands– they belonged to him. Your beast. Your nemesis and lover, the man you hadn’t seen for far too long–

“Because you've been off taking care of a kid?” Your fingers, gentle, feather-light, ghosted across that foreign memory. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Who’s your baby mama?

The lab lights stilted and jittered. You snapped from your trance and made for the window you’d come in through, not bothering to see what was happening with your system jammers–you knew Lyla, she knew you, and that made the whole breaking-into-Spiderman’s-base thing more tricky and risky. Your jammer wasn’t fool-proof. It was quite easy to override, actually, but the interference was the difficult thing to detect in the first place. You only thought you’d need a handful of minutes to see your spider, anyway.

But he wasn’t there. Maybe he was off with his little girl. 

Something cacophonous and nerve-wracking churned to the sound of warping electricity behind you as you dove from the window and slid down the side of the skyscraper, claws shrieking against metal and glass alike until you could launch off and latch onto a passing hover car. The periphery of your mind swore it saw flashes of orange and yellow, more violent and heavy than the screens you stared at in that dower room, and maybe you might have heard a familiar voice too. 

The broad, tiny silhouette standing in that abandoned window gave you much more to think about.  -- Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!

@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (5)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 5.8k

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of an injury, jungkook is drowning in the sea of denial, heavy angst, misunderstandings, disagreements

A/N: well, i don't have much to say about this chapter. however, i am making a taglist, so please let me know if you want to be added <3 thank u for making it this far into the series, stay tuned for more !!

part 5: gears and vines of tension

You absently twirl the ramen in your bowl, your chopsticks moving in slow, deliberate circles as a heavy sigh slips past your lips. The warm steam rises from the broth, but it does little to soothe the tight knot forming in your chest.

Just an hour ago, the townhall meeting about the town fair ended, and now you find yourself seated at a small booth in a Japanese restaurant just around the corner, surrounded by your friends who, as usual, are keenly aware of what's going on in your mind..

You try to focus on the food, the familiar scent of miso and soy sauce, but your mind keeps drifting back to one thought: Jungkook. The idea of working with him for the fair that is set to happen two months from now, has lodged itself in your brain, and you can’t shake it off. Of all the people in this town, it had to be him, the one person who managed to make your blood boil with nothing more than a glance.

It's almost amusingly comical, if it weren’t so frustrating. The universe, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor, and today, it has decided that you must work side-by-side with him, out of all people.

The sheer irony of it... the fact that you, someone who prides yourself on peace, order, and avoiding conflict at all costs, are now paired with Jungkook for something as important as the town fair. It gnaws at you.

You feel your grip on the chopsticks tighten, the wood digging into your palms as you try to concentrate on anything other than the growing sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the reality that you’ll have to spend an extended period of time with him, and that thought alone is enough to make you want to scream.

From across the table, your friends are watching you with knowing glances, their eyes flickering back and forth between you and the others. They know exactly what’s going on in your mind, and judging by the subtle smirks on their faces, they’re enjoying this more than they probably should.

Taehyung leans forward, a grin spreading across his face as he watches you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Teaming up with Jungkook for the fair? Oh, this is gonna be good.” he teases, the amusement practically oozing from his words. His grin grows wider as he waits for your response, clearly relishing your discomfort.

Seokjin chimes in next, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d have to cooperate with the infamous biker boy. What’s next? You two finally getting along?” His eyebrows rise dramatically as he leans back, laughing.

You slump further into your chair, your fingers still gripping the chopsticks so tightly that you feel like you might snap them in half. A tired sigh escapes your lips. “I highly doubt it.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration clear in your tone.

“It’s bad enough I’m stuck with him for the fair, but do I have to hear this from you guys too?” You look up at your friends, meeting their teasing eyes with a halfhearted glare, but it’s impossible to stay mad at them for long. They’re enjoying this too much, and you can’t help but feel like the punchline of some inside joke.

“Come on, Y/N...” Namjoon says, his voice soft and rational, like he’s trying to calm you down. “You two have history, right? Maybe this is a good chance to... I don’t know, put the past behind you??” he suggests.

You shake your head almost immediately, a quiet laugh escaping you. “It’s not that simple.” you reply quickly, the words tumbling out without thinking.

“We don’t get along, Joon. This isn’t some... rom-com where we magically start clicking after a few awkward encounters. This is real life. And in real life, I can’t just forget about everything that’s happened between us.” you pause, taking a deep breath.

“Sure, sure,” Juwon adds with a teasing smile, her tone a little too playful. “Just don’t kill him before the fair is over, okay?” She laughs, but there’s an edge of genuine curiosity in her voice. She's not sure whether you’re joking or not.

You roll your eyes, half-annoyed and half-amused. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” you reply dryly, your voice thick with sarcasm. But even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your thoughts slipping into darker territory.

The teasing continues as your friends rally around you, throwing playful jabs and remarks that only seem to make things worse. It’s hard to stay angry at them when they genuinely believe there’s some kind of positive outcome buried somewhere in this mess.

They see the potential for you and Jungkook to patch things up, and while part of you knows they mean well, another part of you can’t shake the nagging feeling that this situation is just a train wreck waiting to happen.

You might not be as optimistic as they are, but they’re all so convinced something good could come out of this, and it makes your frustration feel even more intense.

//

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels just as conflicted, though he’d never admit it. The whole town fair situation is just another annoying obstacle in his otherwise meticulously curated routine.

He’s not keen on the idea of working with you, at all. In fact, the very thought gnaws at him, like a thorn embedded deep inside, constantly prodding at his sense of control.

He’s already juggling a whirlwind of emotions—feelings he doesn’t fully understand, confusions he’s too afraid to face. And if that wasn’t difficult enough already, now he has to stick by you and actually work with you. All those stolen glances, those subtle moments of help, the cold silences... it all amounts to this, and he has no idea how to deal with it.

Even though both of you haven’t fought in a while, the tension still hangs thick in the air when you're in the same vicinity. It’s so glaringly obvious, like a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate.

The truth is, Jungkook has grown to admire you from a distance, but that only makes the situation more complicated. His feelings for you are a constant ache in his chest, something he can’t quite untangle. And now, here he is, stuck with you in a situation that feels like the last thing he wants.

But no matter how much he wishes it weren’t true, when Mr. Kwon’s words echo in his mind, he knows there’s no escaping it. The town fair is something both of you will have to navigate together, whether you guys like it or not.

Still, that doesn’t mean his friends are going to let him off the hook so easily.

“Seems like you have no choice but to get along with Y/N, huh?” Yoongi’s voice is low, almost teasing, but Jungkook can hear the hidden challenge beneath the surface. It’s a comment that cuts deeper than he wants to admit.

Jungkook scowls, his fingers tightening around the soda can he’d just grabbed, the metal crinkling under his grip. “Shut up, hyung.” he mutters through clenched teeth, the words more defensive than he intended. "I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but we’re just going to work together, and that's it." he states, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral. The words taste like ash in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure.” Hoseok adds, leaning in with that familiar, mischievous grin of his. “Just working. The way you look at her says otherwise, though.” His tone is light, but it’s clear he’s enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort a little too much.

“Shut up.” Jungkook snaps, his irritation flaring. He can’t stand their constant teasing, the way they poke at something he’s not ready to face. It’s as though they can see right through him, and it makes him want to retreat even further into himself. And since, he’s been avoiding you... avoiding everything about you like it’s some kind of plague, having to confront it head-on seems impossible.

Jimin, however, is the one who really gets under his skin. “I’ve noticed all those lingering looks you give her. I get it... you’re still holding on to something. But come on, man. It’s been ages. Just face it and talk to her.”

“That’s none of your business.” Jungkook growls, his voice low and thick with frustration. His temper is a simmering volcano, and it doesn’t take much for it to erupt. He hates that they can see through him so easily, as if every thought, every feeling, is written on his face.

And worst of all, he doesn’t want to think about you. Not now, not ever. But there you are, constantly in the back of his mind, disrupting his every thought.

“Maybe this is your chance to… fix things.” Yoongi muses, his voice taking on an almost knowing tone, like he understands something Jungkook isn’t ready to admit to himself.

Jungkook remains silent, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His jaw is set in a firm line, but inside, he feels a stirring unease. Fix things? With you? No, that’s not what he wants. Not at all.

But something about the space you’ve left in his life lately, the absence of your presence,,, it’s bothering him more than it should. It feels... wrong. And he can’t figure out why.

The emptiness in his chest is growing, and it’s eating away at him. He tries to ignore it, to shove it back down where it belongs, but the truth keeps creeping up on him and he’s not ready to face this. Not yet.

//

When the meetings finally start, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, a few feet apart, neither of you daring to breach the silence in the community center. The air between the two of you feels charged, thick with tension, like an invisible wall keeping you at arm's length.

Each glance, each shift of position, carries an unspoken weight, and even the faint sound of your breathing feels too loud. Every word spoken feels like an effort, a conscious choice to avoid snapping, but it’s almost impossible not to.

The first task at hand is the layout. You, the florist, are in charge of the decoration, but you know full well that it’s a collaborative effort, especially with Jungkook needing to ensure the space is functional. You’ve done this before, worked under pressure, but with him? It feels different. The stakes are higher, the frustration more palpable.

“So..." you start, forcing your voice to remain steady and calm, even as the anticipation lingers in your chest. “We need to figure out where the booths will be placed. The flower arrangements need to complement the flow of traffic, and we can’t block the stage view.” You turn to him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before quickly averting your eyes, as though the intensity of the connection might shatter the thin facade you’ve managed to maintain.

Jungkook, however, seems unfazed. His eyes flicker briefly towards you, but it’s clear his attention is elsewhere. “Fine.” he mutters flatly, his voice devoid of any real emotion. He scrolls through his phone as if he’s in a different world entirely. “Tell me where to put the tents.” he says.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his nonchalant response, but you force yourself to stay composed. “It’s not that simple.” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. “You have to work with the dimensions. The booths need to be spaced properly to avoid crowding. Otherwise, the flow will be a mess.” you explain.

He hums in acknowledgment, but his focus never leaves the screen of his phone, his posture relaxed, almost too casual. He gives you nothing to go on, no acknowledgment that he’s actually listening, and yet, he doesn’t argue.

He’s making an effort, or so it seems, but the effort feels as half-hearted as his tone. You lay out the details of the booth placement, watching as his eyes dart back to his phone, the quick flicks of his thumb on the screen like a rhythm you’ve grown all too familiar with. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t outright ignore you. That’s something, right? A small victory, perhaps, but not enough to quell the simmering unease that’s growing within you. He’s pretending not to care, pretending like this is just another mundane task in his life. And maybe, in his mind, it is. But in yours? It’s so much more than that.

//

The following days unfold in a similar pattern. The meetings don't happen every single day. Maybe just two to three times a week. Whenever you sit down to discuss, you both speak in clipped tones, each of you trying to push your own agenda without crossing the invisible line into conflict.

It’s a game of subtle manipulations, of measuring your words carefully so as not to give anything away. Jungkook does his best to remain distant, as if he’s above it all... his expressions impassive, his body language indifferent. It’s the perfect mask, and he wears it well, making it nearly impossible to gauge what he’s really thinking.

And yet, despite the stone-cold exterior, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more beneath the surface. You catch the fleeting glances he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking, the slight tension in his shoulders when you speak, and the subtle shift in his tone when he responds.

He’s trying to remain uninterested, trying to pretend he doesn’t care. But the little cracks in his armor? They don't fully hide from you.

However, neither of you is willing to make the first move. The walls you’ve both built around yourselves remain as sturdy as ever. The resentment, though unspoken, hangs in the air, a silent presence that neither of you dares to address. The past still looms large between you, an unspoken history that neither of you is ready to confront.

And so, you continue to go through the motions, working side by side but never truly together. The tension remains thick, like a fog you can’t see through, and the distance between you only seems to grow with each passing day.

For Jungkook, the real battle wasn’t the fair planning... it was you.

Every time your voice echoed in his ears, or your eyes briefly met his, it felt like a thousand invisible threads tangled around his chest, pulling him in every direction at once.

He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t. He tried so hard to stay indifferent, to bury it all beneath layers of cold indifference, but no matter how hard he fought, you had a way of slipping past his defenses.

The harder he tried to focus on the task at hand like the booths, the layout, the logistics, the more you seemed to invade his thoughts. It was maddening, the way you lingered in his mind even when he tried to distract himself.

The sound of your voice, the soft rhythm in your words, the way your eyes sparkled when you were engaged in something you loved... everything about you pulled at him, and he hated it.

He hated how easily he found himself drawn to you, despite everything. Despite the history between you, despite the distance he worked so hard to maintain. He had a job to do. He wasn’t here for this. He wasn’t here for you.

But it didn’t stop him from noticing.

He would notice the way your hair fell in soft waves, catching the light just enough to make it look like something from a dream.

He would notice the curve of your smile as you spoke to your friends sometimes, right before looking at him as he waits for you to head towards the community center together, and the way your smile instantly drops when you spot him makes his chest tighten in ways he didn’t know how to explain.

He would notice how your fingers gently caressed the petals of the flowers you arranged, each movement graceful and deliberate, like everything you touched turned into something beautiful.

It was all so distracting. And in that distraction, Jungkook found himself irritated by his own reaction. He hated how you made his heart race with the simplest of gestures, how his breath hitched when your gaze lingered on him a fraction longer than necessary.

He hated how much you affected him, how your presence seemed to make everything else fade away, as if the world revolved around you and him, suspended in the space between words.

He tried to shut it out. He tried so hard to ignore the flutter in his chest, to keep his focus sharp and steady, but each time you spoke, each time you glanced his way, it became harder. He tried to play it cool, tried to act like none of it mattered, but the truth was... it did matter. It mattered more than he wanted it to.

He despised how beautiful you were, how effortlessly you seemed to captivate every room you entered, how every little thing you did seemed to leave an imprint on his soul. You were the storm he couldn’t weather, the fire he couldn’t outrun, and he hated that he couldn’t escape it.

Every glance, every moment of interaction, felt like a slow burn, a tension he couldn’t release no matter how hard he tried. And the worst part? He couldn’t even find it in himself to want to escape it anymore.

Maybe, deep down, he didn’t want to. Maybe he was tired of pretending that it didn’t matter, tired of trying to push down the feelings that seemed to bubble up from the depths of his chest, no matter how hard he fought them.

There were nights when he would lay awake, the weight of the day pressing down on him, and he could still hear your voice echoing in his mind, still see the way your eyes flickered with a hint of something... something he couldn’t quite place. Something that made him think maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one feeling this tension.

But he never asked. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how to start.

So instead, he buried it, deep down where it could fester. He buried the way his heart seemed to beat a little faster when you walked into the room, and the way his thoughts would drift to you even when he tried to focus on something else.

He buried the guilt of knowing he was avoiding it, of knowing that he was pushing away something that, in some twisted way, he was beginning to want more than anything else.

Because, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn’t care, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was all just a fleeting distraction, he was lying to himself.

He cared. More than he should. And it terrified him.

//

The days continue to blur into one another, each meeting a subtle repetition of the last. But as time passes, you both start to find a rhythm. The awkward silences between you become less frequent, and though the tension never fully dissipates, it becomes something more manageable.

Now, with only one month left for the town fair, your tasks seemed to intertwine more seamlessly, and while Jungkook still maintains that nonchalant, almost aloof demeanor, there’s a strange sense of understanding that develops between you two. It’s not friendly, but it’s cooperative, a balance struck somewhere between resentment and reluctant teamwork.

You start to notice the little changes. The way Jungkook no longer scrolls through his phone during every conversation, or how he no longer avoids your gaze completely. He still doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his tone is less dismissive, more practical, like he’s acknowledging that you’re both in this together, for better or for worse.

You can’t quite tell if he’s faking it or if something is actually shifting beneath the surface, but it doesn’t matter. You focus on the work, pushing through the awkwardness because at least, for now, the process is getting done.

As the days progress, there’s a certain ease in the way you both begin to collaborate. You don’t always agree, and you still bicker over details... where exactly the tents should be placed, what color scheme will work best with the space, and how to arrange the flower displays.

But the exchanges are less sharp, less pointed. It’s as if the constant friction between you has smoothed out into something more tolerable.

You start to enjoy the process in small ways, even though Jungkook remains stoic through it all. The occasional glance exchanged across the table, the rare, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment when you make a valid point... those moments feel like victories.

And just when you start to think that maybe this partnership, while not ideal, could work out after all... just when the days seem to stretch into a predictable rhythm and the weight of the past starts to seem less suffocating, you're pulled out of your trance as you glance up at Jungkook who barges into the community center, his shoulders harshly pushing the door open.

Today, you and Jungkook were supposed to sit with Mr. Kwon and a few other committee members to discuss the progress of your planning and work. They're all seated around the table as they watch Jungkook walk inside.

There’s something off about him today. His usual confident stride is replaced by a more cautious pace, and the first thing you notice is the bruise on his cheek... a faint purple mark that looks like it’s only just begun to heal.

Your gaze travels down, noticing the bandages wrapped around his knuckles. For a split second, your stomach churns. You want to ask, to understand, but before you can even take a breath, he’s sitting down without a word, his usual aloofness firmly in place.

You saw him two days ago, and he was completely fine so you look at him, wondering what exactly happened between the interval.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, though you can feel the tension in the air between you. It’s as if the bruise on his face, the bandages on his hands, are somehow adding to the already thick layer of silence between the two of you. His presence fills the room, but in a way that feels more distant than ever.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of the tightness in your chest, the way your heart begins to race, but you force yourself to push those thoughts aside. It’s none of your business, you remind yourself. He’s clearly not in the mood to talk, and you have no right to pry into his life. Your ego keeps you silent, your lips pressed together as you try to focus on the meeting at hand.

The conversation begins, and for a moment, the work distracts you from the storm of emotions swirling inside. But the normal rhythm of the meeting is shattered when a disagreement arises.

It starts with something small... where to position the flowers around the booths, which side will get the best sunlight. The back-and-forth is nothing new, but today, it feels different. Jungkook’s voice is sharper than usual, his irritation more obvious.

“No, it’s wrong.” he snaps, his tone clipped and harsh as he shoots down your suggestion. “I don’t care what you think, it’s just not going to work.” he spits out.

You feel your frustration rising, the familiar tension between you flaring up once again. But this time, it’s worse. Usually it's just the two of you, but today you have spectators. His words hit a nerve, and before you can stop yourself, you shoot back, your voice laced with annoyance. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

Jungkook doesn’t back down. His eyes flash with a sudden intensity, his jaw clenching as he leans forward, almost daring you to push him further. “If you stopped pretending to know what you’re doing and actually listened to someone who does, maybe you wouldn’t be so completely useless.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, everything goes silent in the room. You feel your blood run cold as the sting of his words sinks in. There’s a moment of disbelief, followed by a sharp surge of anger.

You didn’t expect him to snap like that, especially not in front of everyone. But the truth is, you don’t care about the others in the room right now. All you care about is the unbearable pain in your chest that his words have left behind.

Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor, the noise cutting through the tense silence. You don’t even spare him a glance as you turn to leave, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

Every step feels like it’s pulling you further away from the meeting, from him, and from the tight knot of emotions you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The door slams behind you with a resounding finality.

Mr. Kwon and the others in the room are left in stunned silence, but Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t say a word. He just sits there, staring at the empty space where you had been, the tension now painfully thick enough to cut with a knife.

He doesn’t know what’s worse... the physical pain in his body from the fight with the rival gang he just had before coming here, or the way his words just pushed you further away. But he’s not ready to admit that. Not to anyone. Not even to himself.

"Well..." Mr. Kwon starts, carefully eyeing Jungkook as he glances at the other members. " A little bit of a disagreement, I suppose." he breathes out.

"Let's talk about this calmly in the next meeting." he finally says, after a few seconds as the others silently agree with him. He stands up, softly patting Jungkook on the shoulder, before he exits the community center with the others.

It’s clear that something has shifted. And whatever fragile understanding you had begun to build between the two of you, now seems like a distant memory, lost in the wake of that one, harsh moment. Jungkook doesn’t know how to fix it, but somehow, he knows he’ll have to face it. Eventually.

//

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting its silvery glow across the empty streets below. Jungkook walks towards his shop, hands buried deep in his pockets, but there’s no warmth in the gesture. His body moves, but his mind churns, restless, unwilling to give him the peace he so desperately craves.

The meeting replays in his mind over and over, each iteration like a fresh stab to his chest. He can’t forget the sharpness of his words, the way they cut into you, when he knew better than anyone that you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

A long, heavy sigh escapes him, but it offers no relief. The tension in his shoulders feels like an unshakeable weight, a burden he can’t cast aside. It wasn’t your fault, none of it.

You had no part in the chaos of his morning... a rush of irate customers, a critical delivery gone wrong, and an absurd brawl with a rival biker gang over something that, in hindsight, seemed like pure stupidity.

Yet, somehow, you ended up on the receiving end of all his frustration, a target for everything he’d been bottling up. Guilt gnaws at him as he walks, the sharp taste of regret lingering on his tongue.

Passing your shop, a soft, golden light spills from the glass door. His steps falter, a flicker of curiosity cutting through the wall his pride has built. It's late, and yet you're still here. He pauses for a moment, unsure, torn between his ego and the pull of something deeper. And then, against all reason, he steps closer, pressing his face to the cool glass, eyes narrowing to catch a glimpse.

The sight of you makes something tighten in his chest. Your back is facing him, but your shoulders tremble, faintly at first, but enough to set his pulse racing. His breath catches, and then the realization hits him like a punch. You’re crying.

His heart slams against his ribs, the sight of your silent sorrow unraveling him in ways he can't fully understand. His legs go weak, and the weight of his regret threatens to crush him. He's the cause of your tears, the reason for this moment of pain.

He stands frozen, torn between guilt and fear... fear that his presence will only make things worse. But the guilt surges, a relentless tide that drowns everything else.

His knees threaten to give away under the pressure of his own actions, and for a fleeting moment, he considers turning away, disappearing into the night. But the ache in his chest keeps him rooted to the spot.

Finally, he exhales, slow and deliberate, and pushes the door open, the soft chime of the bell echoing in the stillness. For a heartbeat, he wonders if you’ll hear it, if you’ll acknowledge his presence.

He steps inside, quiet, careful, as though every movement might break something more fragile than glass. The door closes gently behind him, and he moves closer, inching towards you, but the distance between you both feels like an entire universe.

The words he wants to say get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know if any of them will ever be enough. “Y/N…” His voice cracks, quieter than he intended, raw with the weight of unspoken regret.

You don’t turn around. You don’t flinch. The silence stretches between you like an impassable chasm, and the space feels impossibly wide. His chest tightens further as he watches your back, every muscle in his body aching with the need to fix this, to make it right. But he doesn’t know how.

“Y/N, I…” He swallows, fumbling for words, but none come. He knows an apology won’t undo the damage, but it’s the only thing he has left to offer. “I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have—”

His words fall short as he sees your shoulders tremble harder, your body shaking with the weight of everything you’ve been holding in. You turn slightly, enough for him to catch the tear tracks on your face, and the sight of them, the way your pain is laid bare before him, pierces him in ways he can’t explain.

“I didn’t mean to … to snap at you like that…” His voice falters, breaking under the strain. He knows it’s too late for his apologies to fix anything. You’ve already heard too much of it, seen too much of his anger.

You wipe your eyes hastily, trying to erase the evidence of your tears, but when you face him fully, there’s nothing but raw pain in your gaze. “No, Jungkook,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with anger but steady, unwavering. “You DON’T get to do this.”

He instinctively steps forward, his hand reaching out, but you step back, sharp and defensive.

“You don’t get to come in here now, after everything, and act like you can fix this with a half-hearted apology!” Your voice rises, shaking with emotion, and the dam finally breaks. “I don’t NEED your apology. I don’t WANT your apology!”

The words hit him like a physical blow, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t try to stop you. He just stands there, feeling the weight of every word, every accusation, land deep in his chest.

“You made me feel small, Jungkook,” you continue, your voice cracking as tears brim in your eyes again. “Ever since you moved next door, that’s ALL you’ve been doing. It’s like you go out of your way to make my life miserable. Everything you say, everything you do, it makes me feel like I’m constantly losing control over the one thing I’ve built with my own hands. Like me and my shop have always been a joke to you.” You pause, breath hitching as you try to steady yourself.

Jungkook knows exactly where this is coming from. He’s the cause of every inch of this. He feels it in his gut, the crushing weight of his mistakes, and he knows he has no right to defend himself. All he can do is stand there and listen.

“You don’t care. You treat me like crap... like I’m just some part of your day that you can lash out at whenever it suits you.” you spit, your voice trembling with fury. “In your world, it’s always about you. Your thoughts, your problems, your emotions... it’s like nothing else... like no else... exists. You never stop to think about how your words affect anyone else. You never stop to think about how your words affect me.”

Your chest heaves with each word, your voice raw with hurt. And as the weight of your anger presses down on him, Jungkook feels a heavy suffocating knot coil in his stomach. This is all his fault.

“You think I don’t have enough to deal with already?” you continue, voice breaking as your tears spill again. “That I need to be the punching bag for your anger? You don’t get to treat me like that, Jungkook. You have no right to make me feel like I’m the problem when you’re the one who’s always pushing people away.”

The words echo in the empty space between you, a finality that’s impossible to ignore. Jungkook stands there, silent, broken. Each word feels like a strike, each accusation hitting him harder than the last. “Every time I think we’re okay, every time I think we can coexist in peace, you give me a million reasons to prove me wrong. You make me feel so fucking stupid for even thinking we could be friends.”

You run your hands through your hair, tears falling like rain as you try to catch your breath, but it’s hard. The storm inside you isn’t over.

A few moments pass in silence, but it’s deafening, suffocating. You close your eyes, letting out a long, strained sigh. “I’ve had enough.” you whisper, voice raw and exhausted. “I can’t do this anymore... Not with you. Just... just get out, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t move. He can’t. He stands there, paralyzed by the weight of his own guilt. No words come, because he knows that nothing he could say will make things better.

You turn away, your shoulders shaking with the weight of everything you’ve just said, and as you walk further away from him, Jungkook knows he’s lost more than just your trust tonight. He reluctantly steps back, still watching you as he moves towards the door. He knows it won't change anything but before he leaves, he still says it. "I'm sorry."

<- part 4 // part 6 (coming soon) ->

series masterlist

taglist: @kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 (let me know if u wanted to be added !!)

[kooyabooya]

INTERLUDE

m reader x haewon // 9k words

You’ll give credit where it’s due.

If not for her, you wouldn’t be here - and if not for you, she would have quit the logistical side of the show business a long, long time ago. 

She's written her own sweet, tragic, but beautiful tale of madness; willing to stay amidst the whirlwinds of shit she’s put herself through, and you can somewhat see as to why. 

It’s when she’s let herself into the space of your apartment, hours past of the usual and typical workday. Most of the reasons in this case have their own tales and periods of reflection the next morning - though, a common thread of events that you’ve been accustomed to is the trail of her heels leading a path to the couch, her handbag tossed off to the opposite end, sinking into the cushions. She’s tired, and very unbothered. 

You’re doing your own pat down not far from her. A jacket’s tossed onto the nearby chair of your dining table; the usual essentials of your phone, wallet, and one of many pairs of glasses also find their place away from your reach. 

“Since when the hell did you snag my keys from me?” You ask, patting down the quartet of pockets to realize the sudden item wasn’t part of the things you rummaged off your body. 

“It’s called sleight of hand, dear.” Haewon says, a phone spinning in the air and to a nearby pillow, “That’s what happens when you leave a key with me after our last outing. Have someone to blame? Let that be yourself.” 

“I was wondering why you were taking longer getting out of the car.” 

“Girls like to take their sweet time.” 

“Your point being?” 

“My point?” She sits up and leans forward, diverting her attention towards one of the gacha items that you got as a gift from one of her clients - a token of gratitude, for being wonderful with me - you recall the memory for a split second, and Haewon keeps on flipping it around between her fingers. “Don’t get too pressed now. It’s not like you would be locked out of your house for that long. Besides, your landlord’s seen me with you more times than he can count. If I were to ask him for the master key, he’d probably say yes.” 

“Speculation,” you breathe, “Honestly, you can try, and I think you could be on his good side for all I know.” 

A few wisps of her hair fall far off the side, and she pulls it back with a single finger. Even in the dimmest of lightings, you can still see the small twinge of her nose pulling back, flaring her nostrils. Then she flicks her eyes back toward you, hooking. “You’ve always let me lead the way, and you’re following not far behind.” 

You’re tending to the cuffs of your shirt, rolling them up just below the elbows. “I do a whole lot more than just my job.” 

“Tch,” Haewon’s got the tip of her tongue on her upper teeth. “You know well enough that it cuts both ways.” 

Almost as if this was practiced on cue, these sliding strides you make as Haewon picks herself up from her seat, it’s like two characters taking center stage. The lighting’s barely peeking through for you to see where everything’s leveled. Doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, Haewon’s frame is the only thing you see, the weight on your shoulders start to droop from the imaginary weight on them. You can probably settle with how the luminating radiance of the night sky showers her porcelain skin or the way her silhouette molds itself in the meshing colors of this cozy dark blue pooling through behind her. There’s also the fleeting realization that this is your space that she’s nestling in. But you can’t ignore the sudden occasional chill that sweeps through every time she walks in - even when it’s after hours, the effect is still in play. 

Haewon’s treating another few strands of her hair behind her ear before looking down at the small toy on your table top. “Not a bad idea for you to start a collection going.” 

You glance over her shoulder and pull a firm grin across your face. “You know, I was a bit perplexed in why she gave that to me in the first place - after I politely refused so many times.” A shake of your head and a sigh follows instantly after. “But the more I look at it, it’s pretty cute to have. Brings a whole lot of variety in the place right off the bat.” 

Haewon dips her head down, hiding a subtle smirk when touches the tips of her socks on the floor. “I know that you fancy your books and everything but, I was happy that you took her gift in the end.” 

“Expecting me to just say no?” 

“Blind boxes are a life lesson too. People expect one thing and when they don’t get what they want, they’re pretty torn to whether to be happy or not with what they pulled. Now that I think about it, the same lesson can be seen in Forrest Gump when he’s sitting on the bench with the old lady.” 

“A lot of people can resonate with Forrest in that moment. Probably because almost everybody’s got something that they didn’t want in the first place, and I’ll take your word for it.” You slide your hands into your pockets, rolling your shoulders back. “Makes people appreciate the many things they have.” 

Haewon cocks her head towards her left, bringing it back upright once her body’s facing yours. You’re holding your breath here for a second, swallowing a lump of nervousness down your throat. She’s got it all: the intellect, the beauty, the poise. Each and every single one of those thoughts crosses both ways in your mind, it’s been like that since you got paired with her. The authenticity of her presence doubles down what’s written on paper. Like any fool in this scenario, you carry on, thinking about all of the things you’d never thought you’d do with her - the way she tries to hide the growing blush on her face when your arms hold her, how her eyelids lower their guard when you’re closing the proximity to mere inches, how she sighs with a finger pressed to her temple before whipping some of her hair back - adorable, and perfect. There’s really no other way to describe it, or her; even if she’s not very adamant into accepting the meaningful compliments. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Her small frame nestles itself easily at your front and she’s happily dancing her fingers at the pointe end of your necktie, fiddling along with the button beneath it. You’re deluding yourself at the imaginary tug she has on you and she’s barely laid a finger. “Scratch that, I wholeheartedly agree.” 

You’d wish that you could make a quick snapshot back to the very time you first unraveled her in your home, on an evening whim just like this. The proposition of pulling up a mental calendar and ripping off the pages backwards to a full two years of working with her. Though, you’re able to automatically deduce the fact of the time you and her actually spent working together - a good portion of those cases in the sheets which is worth considering - but despite all that, there’s a good report to draw up in your head where the times flowed in fluctuations, much like in a spectrogram. Some of the days with her peaked higher than the rest, and others were on the opposite end of the spectrum. That’s just how this rapport- this relationship was. 

Haewon never really dabbled with the idea of putting a label on this ‘thing’ you have with her. 

It could be a relationship, or maybe it couldn’t. She would always immediately shut down that thought circling around your brain. 

A tried and true method in getting your hopes up. And each and every time she shot your heart down. It would send you in limbo for what feels like an endless string of days, the firm tone with her delivery very clear and straight to the point. You can’t help yourself in waiting for something to change; heck, it’s possibly everything you ever wanted with her. 

It also didn’t help when the people in your inner circle were already in their own walks of life, blooming into something beautiful with their significant others; while you’re sitting off to the side, watching them from a distance as it feels like with every passing day, you’re falling further and further behind. There isn’t enough space in your journal, let alone the selection of drinks to choose from after being downed, but the feeling remains all the same - it’s a harrowing want to fill that depression oh-so desperately. 

“Whatever happened to ‘keeping things professional’?” Dipping your head down as the tip of your nose hovers right above her head, catching the first few whiffs of that oceanic scent used in her shampoo. “Wasn’t it your words exclusively that we would stop what we’re doing now? At this moment?” 

This time, you were the one to raise that wall up, hoping that it’ll stick after being broken down so many times. 

“Mine?” Haewon blurts out once her hands finally reach to the lines of your shoulders, palms sliding along the fabric of your shirt. “What about it? Don’t try to flip this back on me when we were just talking outside in the staircase and then you decided to push me against the door, perch my chin up and-” 

“Haewon.” 

“One night. That one night. You-” 

“Haewon.” You know that she’s primarily the one who likes to repeat herself at times to get her point across, but not tonight.

She sighs, head falling forward in your chest. “Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, those were my words, and I stand by them. She’s trying her hardest to ignore your overwhelming stature, because she knows your truth; she knows, and knows, and knows.“But that doesn’t mean that what I tell you is enough to sway your mind, nor your choice.”

Her words tell you one thing, but her body welled up against yours tells you another. 

“Haewon,” you repeat again, blinking it through. Your voice slightly chokes up when her thumb skates up the line of your jaw, letting her pull get the best of you, breath canvassing the slope where your chin and neck meet. “You’re not helping yourself here.” 

“It’s been a long day,” she admits, kissing you foolishly, her fingers slither to the back of your head. Your hands have a mind of their own while it tries to scrounge up what’s left of her melting figure, humming gently into your skin. “You could’ve like- taken me home, or something. Rather than bring me here, because we both know how this story goes.” 

“Don’t get all sensical with me now,” you say to her, hand quick to her wrist in an attempt to stop her, but she’s seen that card played before. “You were the one to tell me to get the hell out of the office as fast as we could, and here we are.” 

Haewon flashes her eyes at you, narrowing her expression with the simple tilt of her head. “I guess you’re right. Either I call a cab home or have you as my personal driver. Looks like the second option was the best one to pick between the two.” 

“You did look tired.” 

“Because I am.” Her eyebrows ruffle against each other when you drop the blunt response as she returns to the slacked neck along with her wrists. “After the shitstorm with Bae, and then with Sullyoon? God, don’t even get me started. You were there when everything went down.” 

“In fact I was.” 

She scowls with a much more dragged out tone with her voice, the stress pressing down on her lips returning to their familiar parted place. “I’m trying so hard to not think about it, but it’s just- ugh.” 

“A problem to be dealt with tomorrow,” you tell her, hands bringing her closer to your waist. “Just don’t think.” 

“Easy for you to say.” Haewon deadpans, her face shifting flat with dead eyes. “And it’s easier for it to be said than done.” 

“Why not do it, then?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’m asking you to not focus on work for once, genius.” 

“This is me not focusing on work,” she says, pouting, “you’re the one who’s not letting me go in the first place.” 

You manage to look away for a quick second, closing your eyes to fight back the growing cringe rising on your face. “Says the one who waltzed into my house and arms right now.” 

Haewon lets out another dry laugh, resting the side of her face below your collar, pulling down on the slightly untied knot. “Well, I guess I can let you have that over me. I’ll admit that.” 

A deep inhale puffs up your chest as you’re carding your fingers into those coffee brown locks of her hair, massaging her temple. 

“Consider that to be one of your few wins against my arguments. Why bother tell you my personal thoughts about the details we talked about in the meetings earlier, or even in the office.” She sighs again deeply, burrowing herself into your embrace. “What I would do to give that pretty dumbass a-” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that to her earlier, by the way.” 

Haewon looks up again, recalling for a quick second, closing her lips before sounding a simple hum. “Right, I guess I did.” 

“You don’t have to handle this all by yourself, you know.” 

“What if I want to, hm?” She beams. The flip in her mood is always an anomaly in the way that she’s brushing herself up closer to you. “You know my business - my affairs, but I didn’t tell you all of them.” 

You’re well familiar with the playing field she’s setting up here. It’s a battleground that’s seen it all between the two of you, the losses outweighing the victories (and by an overwhelming margin on her end too). She’s always the one to initiate, to set up, your thoughts already getting ahead with the same downward tilt of your head, hands caressing the fabric of her skirt, finding a familiar hold of her hips like one would always do at the start of every slow dance. 

Of course you stay silent, blinking.< Haewon’s quick fire of air leaving her nostrils hides her laugh not that well.> (putting this here to take this sentence out and edit) “Well- Haewon, I’ve got no other choice but to hear you ramble all about them, since it’s my job.” 

“You know most of them.” 

“Like you said: most.” 

Haewon rests herself into you, the lines of tape gradually coming undone. The scent of her shampoo hits your nose a little bit harder this time, her palms sliding up across your chest again. She innocently tilts her head up, parting her lips; tiny, rosy, and dangerously inviting. You have no other thought filling your mind but to lift her up and capture her all to yourself. 

Her lips are like putty - easy to form and mold into the shape that you like. But you pull yourself back, a last line of defense before her eyes and hands have their own say. “Could you say that this is a choice too?” 

“Hm.” She tilts herself upwards into the line of your neck, each quick kiss sending both your heart and mind into echelons higher than cloud nine, melting with every touch until she has your head in between her palms, holding you gently. The blinks she gives are slow, and her breath hitting your face leaves you to your own devices. “What you do with me is always a choice.” 

You retreat for a moment, pulling yourself far away where you can, Haewon’s body still within reach in your arms, forming a wall of air between the space of your chest and hers. “I feel like what we do is already risky as it seems, no? Sure, we see each other on a regular basis, deal with what needs to be done with the day, talking to clients, making sure things are right for the events, going back and forth with no definite pause in between.” Didn’t matter if she was out of the country or mere inches away from you, she’s always about work it seems - like that was the only mode programmed in her mind. “More often than not, I’m treating what damage is done which usually ends up with a few bottles of beer and don’t even get me started on how bad of a lightweight you are-” 

“Uh, rude.” Haewon pays no attention to you. Her thumb grazes your cheek again, and you can’t help the way that you’re leaning into her touch, once realizing that what you said might be too much. You feel your head being reeled in lower and lower, until you feel the tip of her nose hit the cuff of your ear. “But you’re not wrong, and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me that way.” 

Nodding was something that you always used to acknowledge her opinions or thoughts, and it isn’t any different here. 

However, your hands are playing a different role: traversing their way into the two small divots below the small of her back, resting just right above her ass. She’s getting herself more and more comfortable, undoing the first three buttons of her shirt, inviting you to dive into the new opening. You keep on gazing into her slightly swollen lips, studying at how quickly her tongue wets the bottom part, and you draw another swift inhale past your teeth before answering, “There’s no need for you to apologize, especially to me.”

Haewon keeps on pulling the undone tie, the knot basically nonexistent the more she pulls down, eventually sliding it out of your collar and onto the floor. She gives it a quick glance when it pools over her feet and yours, and her lapin eyes land on yours again, bottom lip captured between her teeth. “I just feel bad, you know? And part of me thinks that it’s only a matter of time until you’ve had enough and want to-” 

You shut her up before she keeps up the self-lament, meshing her lips against yours, wanting her to be persuaded in a different manner - one with less words and more actions. 

Drawing back, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And even if I ever had the chance to, I’d straight up say no.” 

“Look at you, so easygoing.”

“I-” 

“At some point,” she breathes, ghosting her face over yours, tugging on that want for you to chase after. “I’d thought you’d give up on forgiving me.” 

“For?” 

“Anything, really.” Haewon answers admittedly. “Whether it’s here or in the office, you have that same look in your eyes, the one filled with sorrow. It hurt me a bit.” 

Maybe right now would be the time to remind her that what she’s thinking is nothing but complete bullshit. 

So you lean down again, and pull her close. Another snapshot taken in the back of your mind. 

Two years is a long time. Two years of the same routine over and over, of working with her, unwinding after the long hours hidden away from everyone else, watching her work herself down to the bone, doing all of these things as if she’s going to die in the next five seconds if she doesn’t keep going. She’s rising to every occasion that she can, moving so fast that you can’t even bear to keep up with her. You’d admire from a distance, in awe, all while you’re at her right-hand side, unwilling to say anything to her. Obviously when she needed to get her mind off of something, or everything for that matter, she wasn’t the kind of person to be upfront about what she wants and let you read into the signs. Luckily, you’ve always noticed at a glance, and even if she isn’t the one to puff out her lips and kiss you first. No. Never. That’s a luxury that’s reserved for you and only you. Because all it takes is one look into your eyes, and the way she’s broken you down like this, she’s very aware of what your downfall is: her. 

All of this is a continuation of a growing culmination, her own personal anthology sprouted from her brain, one which you’ve caught wind of gradually. 

When you’re kissing into her again, hard, you start to feel everything around you collapse. It’s in the way that she smiles against your lips, matching every curve you give her - it’s amazing, and you could write poems of all the good things about Haewon - you’re reminded again and again how out of all the moments in the high achieving days and miserable nights, these instances feel just right. She’s drawing air into her nose, grazing your cheek, never wanting to pull each other away; until you’re sucking the oxygen out of each other’s mouths that leaves the both of you suffocating a bit. It’s all foolish, maybe just a bit, and to hell with the consequences awaiting you at the end of the bridge, because she knows that she’ll be in a safe place as long as it’s with you. 

The arch in her back rises, and you’re clinging tighter into her smaller frame, shoulder bunching up next to her neck, making it easier for you to hold. You can tell her breaths and hums are getting desperate, her own little mess up the more she melts into you. 

You’re not helping her in this situation, and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve done this to her. She’s hooking her arm well around your neck, the only line of support while you’re taking care of the rest, letting her wrists fall slack as you keep on your loving siege on her lips. 

She’s had a rough one this week. A red eye flight back from a fashion week, an entire day of going to ten different locations with one of her top clients, then there’s the whole incident with Bae and Sullyoon back to back. Amongst all of those things, you’d wish that you’d sweep her away for just a second and take her mind off from all the pressures and stress (and you definitely wished you didn’t wait until now to finally do it). 

“Mmmm,” Haewon lets her voice rumble in her throat, tightening her grip in the back of your collar, signaling you to pull away. When you do, her eyes pool into yours, shimmering pupils working overtime to map out the lines of your face. You could feel the heat from her cheeks grow warmer. Her eyes cross for a second. She lets her head go crestfallen, pulling this one smile, her simplest smile, the rarest one she could ever have that not a lot of people have had the pleasure of seeing. The gentlest and most genuine one that she could have, it sells the whole thing to you. Despite her tough shell, you realize that she’s one of the rare few that sends your heart flipping, every time she’s got your guard lowered - exactly in the way like this - it’s impossible to ignore the outshining tempts when all of your inhibitions are at their lowest. 

Her head goes one side, and then the opposite, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this.” 

Today’s been one of those days. You’re tired, even beyond tired. If she didn’t come with you, the bed would’ve been full by now. Two years of the on and off and the off and on, it’s draining. You don’t say anything, as always. Instead, you swoop down beneath her thighs and carry her, taking her lips all to yourself. 

She hums this heavenly noise when you press her against the wall, her legs hooking to a familiar spot where it hasn’t been in a while. Some of the buttons in her shirt come more undone not to your knowledge, but you play the counterpart when tending to the clip and zipper of her skirt. Luckily your body can work in two places at once, returning your focus to Haewon’s face, a sweep of her tongue over your bottom lip. 

The pressure to her waist is not too little nor too much, but just the right amount of press when your leg plays this momentary support underneath her legs, helping her slip out of her shirt while she does the same to you. Almost like you’re opening the pages of a book you finished reading, but flipping through to a certain part like the untouched skin of her chest with her simple black bra playing as the final back line of garments waiting to be discarded. She does that part all by herself, indulging on the breadth of her collarbone, forcing her to bite down a soft moan. 

Haewon here isn't one to play nice. There’s a bit of a tug-of-war going on with your mouths until you gnaw on her lips a bit too hard, wanting you to do that again the way her face is chasing after yours. But her eyes find their place in line again, gaze softening - you’re cursing at yourself because of how beautiful she looks like this. She’s always been one to have a heart of steel, create that dam covering her fragile trust, her arms wrap you in her embrace, eyes hinting at a sign of concern. The flame in your heart has gone cold, but she’s always been the one fanning the fire back to life. 

When you let her down gently, back sliding against the smooth drywall, her arms shift over her head - opening up the area of her midriff to see, to feel. Your palms have never felt anything smoother until they’re slipping the skirt off from her hips, curling over the waistband of her underwear and she fills the open space between your mouths, “fix me up baby, please.” 

Most of her solid-colored panties get caught between your knuckles, skating down her thigh - you’re hunting, searching, till you reach that empowering heat between her thighs. You could feel the top part of her forearm press firmly on the nape of your neck while one of her shoulder blades drags itself against the wall behind her. 

A drag up, then down across her folds, and she rasps. 

You get a finger in, maybe two just to test, feeling her body tense and grasp and hook onto anything within her reach. Little by little, piece by piece, Haewon’s gradually reduced to these mere meeked noises and hums the more your hands and lips begin their grand assault across the fine canvas of her body. The wetness consumes your fingers, and your mouth increasingly gets greedy as you’re nibbling away at the firm mound of her now exposed breasts, her bra gone in one swift move, mind focusing on too many feelings all at once. 

Her head lolls up and over, opening up the left side of her neck for you to take, gasping. She can’t stop squirming in place, and you’ll deal with that soon enough. “I love your hands,” she sighs. “God, you sure know how to satisfy a woman.” 

Your brain is working on the clock, finding all of the niche places and spots on her body to get her needy for more, and she’s playing spectator, the pad of your tongue swipes upward at the midline of her chest, capturing the hard bud of her nipple between your thumb and index, twisting without a care of her quick pain. 

Haewon gets both of her hands around your head, pulling you up from drowning beneath her neck, showering your face with kisses, forehead pressing against yours, “Happy with your reward?” 

You’ll give credit where it’s due. You hate how intoxicating she is with the snarky remarks and fast banter, but you love how simple she is to break down - send her mind into a downward spiral. She could let you ruin her life, and it would be the same for you. 

It takes a moment too long to consider, your brain is running through the playbook of all the moves and positions you could have her in, which spot in your house would be the most ideal place to simply just bend her over and tear her insides apart until she won’t be able to walk or think straight. A woman like her: clothes pooled and scattered everywhere at her feet, swollen lips and tattered skin just waiting to be ruined. 

Haewon knows you well, where all she has to do is say something to snap your attention back to her: “How do you want me?” 

She’s selfish, there’s no denying that. Though, she doesn’t really care what you think when she’s kissing you shamelessly once more, smushing and smacking her lips across your face, letting her have her way and to sink into her body again. But here is where she forgets, another callback of the few other times she got too ahead of the curve too soon- 

“I think I find you to be prettier when you’re like this,” you tell her, quickly sinking down to your knees moving her thighs over your shoulders; get your face close to that warm, delightful fountain between her thighs when you lift her up from the floor, holding her there. 

-to realize that you too, are also selfish in your own accord; at some point, there’s a time to prove who has what between the two of you, and the sigh of acknowledgment slipping out of her lips gives just enough that you’re doing something right. 

It all could’ve gone wrong for Haewon at any given point in the time you’ve been working with her. All it took was a few mishaps both in and out of her control and she would’ve snapped. In those dire times of need, she had you. Whether it’d be your mouth or your fingers, the way you settle into these well-practiced strokes of your tongue and cock, and she loves to travel down the little rite of passage when you shut her up with a palm on her mouth or a hand to her throat. She knows that you have your limits, and it’s all in her cards for when she’s able to unshackle you from your common sensibilities. A hand is raked into your hair as you’re shifting your head closer and closer, until your breath starts to blanket her leaking entrance, awaiting for your arrival. 

There’s a few mumbles spilling out of her lips when you gently kiss her folds, brush your nose right up against her clit, to where her head bucks forward, giving an unintentional style of wispy bangs the more your mouth starts to scoop up the mess that you’ve created. Her hips buck and jerk, pressing your head deeper into her quivering pussy lips, wanting to get that ache so much faster than intended. 

“God, yes baby- right there,” is all she says, and she can barely manage to prop her head upright when you look up from below. 

A chuckle leaves your nose, arming a coy smile before you carry on your attention onto her swollen clit, sucking and teasing on it shamelessly until you start to feel the insides of her thighs shake against your ears, digging her nails deep into your scalp. 

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, feeling the pressure of Haewon’s legs crushing your skull from within. “Looks like you’ve been pent up for a while now, no?” 

Haewon digs a heel into your back, making you secure the tops of her thighs with your fingers, hitting her head back on the wall. “Among other things.” 

“Really.” You reply flatly, giving her another swift lick of your tongue into her aching cunt, her slick pooling across the wet pad. “Because judging how your body’s reacting, you’ve been wanting me badly since the last time.” 

“Sounds perfectly right.” 

She loses that hefty persona pretty damn quickly when you’re diving into her pussy again, stifling a moan, grinding  her hips into your head, wanting you to keep on licking until she’s had enough (spoiler alert: she hasn’t.) “Do tell me more,” you’re telling her, smacking your lips to the heat, “if you’re able to, of course.” 

“Seriously. Fuck you.” 

“Says the one who’s technically my boss.” 

“Not when it’s after hours I’m not.” 

“What are you implying?” 

Haewon’s eyes squint a bit, trying to keep focus, doubling down on the indulgence of your tongue over her folds. Her face is in a rosy shade of pink, similar to when she’s usually drunk - but this shade however, you’d prefer to see her more in. “Stop pretending to play dumb. I know you can read between the lines here.” 

“And what if I want to be oblivious for once? Like in every situation that we’re in while at work?” 

“You’re not, ah-” 

You’re not giving her any chance to breathe here. She doesn’t deserve it. And when you lather her pussy up in your spit, it’s less than an act of mercy, helplessly whining at the harshful gnawing you’re doing to her poor cunt - it’s what she wants, and she has no one to blame for making you like this but herself. 

“If you’re not my boss during these hours, then what are you?” You inquire.

“I’ll be anything but your boss. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

That’s all the confirmation that you needed, forcefully plummeting her down to her inevitable demise. You feel the muscles in her thighs clench in shock from the unexpected anticipation, biting down her shriek the more you dive into the endless depths of her entrance, satisfying that want that you and her so desperately wanted. 

“Oh,” Haewon sighs out as some epiphany. But the moment of relief washes over her in no time, her layers folding. Collapsing. Her entire body wiggles in this circular motion. “Oh.” 

The heavenly chorus of her mewls fill your ears when you’re cementing your pace, wreaking havoc between her thighs. She’s still got her hand gripping the back of your head, the other flat on the wall. Her stomach bucks and folds at the weight of your tongue, moving your head around in different directions to make sure that you’re hitting every spot with the right approach. The pleasure is building in all of the right places, and you can feel the curl of her toes on your back, ensuring that you’re doing the exact job as her personal toy. “Fuck. Right there, right there.” 

It only increases the flood by tenfold. She’s spilling more and more you kiss, swirl, nibble, and tease - doing everything you can to make sure she reaches that unimaginable peak first. “You’re so good. You’re so so good. Baby- don’t stop, oh my god-” 

Haewon can’t help herself here, leaning her back deeper into the wall and dragging her hips outward, keeping both legs on your shoulders to the best that she can, unable to let up with the bucks and jolts her hips are making into your face. Every quick rush of air past her teeth only holds so much until she starts to feel her stomach bunch up in knots. 

“T-tongue, dear. Oh jesus, you’re so good at- fuck!” she yelps, the tailends of her breaths tattered in these hushed moans, picking up in volume the more you slurp up her pussy to your heart’s content. “Almost, almost.” 

You’re well aware of the fact that Haewon is one of the main catalysts when it comes to operating her job. She’s second to none. The standard. The spearhead. She’s got one of the most sizable clientele’s for a reason. But the jaws of work can consume anybody in this climate, no matter how on top or perfect they can be. It would only be a matter of time for the fatigue to get to her - and with the recent events happening around the office, it did just that. Everyone needs a break from time to time, and she’s no different here. A tongue laps up one spot past the clit, there’s a nibble of her swollen folds between your teeth, and here is where you step up to the role of ensuring that Haewon gets her much deserved intermission here. 

“Right there, I’m gonna-ah! -umming,” Haewon wails, failing to let up with the oral assault on her quivering cunt, her cries filling up your ears, the muscles of her legs locking your back in place, fingers tugging the roots of your hair. “Cumming. I’m fucking cumming.”

These puppy eyes you do to look up, she gazes down, bottom lip still stuck to her teeth as her expression tears, coming down from her needed stress relief. You stay the course in holding her steady, taking account of the lingering twitches and tensions of muscle her body does. 

And not long after, you finally let her down from the wall. Her arms slither around the familiar profiles of your back, lazily planting her lips onto your skin again - Haewon wants another taste of you. It’s also kind of cute how her toes stack up on top of your feet, prompting you to lead the way into the bedroom while she’s closely tethered to you. 

“Love it. Love it so much.” Haewon sighs out, half-lidded eyes caught in your vision. “Love it when you make me cum like that.” 

It’s one of the few moments where she doesn’t expect a response from you, because it’s already true. 

Above everything, you carry on with your steps as Haewon’s lips continue to spell out these hushed curses - all the things that she wants you to do to her - her fantasies, the praises, what she likes you doing and what she wants to do to you with the intent of returning the favor. Her figure is so light in your hands and on your feet, limbs loose enough to bend and twist, a marked up canvas ready for another brush-to-paper moment. 

Gravity here does it’s own thing when she falls backward onto the mattress of your room, her arms doing this natural reflex of going above her head, carving up these unbelievable curves in real time to where her back is off the comforters and her left foot is inching up against her inner right thigh. This image alone was enough for you to mindlessly slip out of your pants and underwear, eyes fixed on Haewon rolling her body: belly facing down, back up, her knees dig deep into the sheets, the upper half stretching a bit while her lower half rises up past your thighs, rounding out her hips. 

Her knees spread wider across the sheets and her back dips, you think - just a bit, and the look she does over her shoulder is the right amount of lethality. You don’t even flinch when she manages to get her fingers onto the length of your cock, telling you the only thing she wants you to do: 

“Take this cock and fuck me.” 

You’d follow her words no matter what. 

Like a siren’s call out in the sea, the sound of Haewon’s voice comes off as this daring risk where the mind starts to slowly reduce itself around her hand, languidly pumping you to the point where the urge to rip the fun out of her is impossible to ignore. 

“I’ve always wondered,” she starts to say. 

You lean down to shower a few kisses to her neck, fingers sliding up to her waist, pressing for a firm hold while an airy giggle passes her lips. 

“How long have you dealt with me? Being like this? 

“Where would I even start?” You hunch over with a trail of kisses down her lower back, cupping the swell of her ass while noting that most of her slick has spread past the underside and to the back of her thighs. “I don’t even remember who made the first move back then.” 

Haewon reaches out for one of your pillows, setting it between her arms and chest, “I’m sure it was you, or maybe it was me. Maybe-” 

A wistful gasp stops her from talking when you slowly press your cock into her leaking pussy, lips slicked up and inviting between those lovely thighs of hers. You drink in the sight of the grip she has around your length as you continue to ease yourself into her, keeping it together poorly before the heat and her pulse gets to your head. 

“Maybe what?” you tell her, attempting to bring back her train of thought from fleeing away. 

This girl who’s backside is arched so high up in the air and stomach buried deep into the sheets looks over her shoulder again, eyes filled with tension - a fire blazing beneath the irises. “Maybe- you were just oblivious about the signals I was sending you, but now that we’re here, I guess you can say that you made the curve.” 

“I won’t deny anything here-” Everything about this is the reality, anyway. You drag and push yourself into the fluttering heat of her second pair of lips. Her body is so responsive in the wants and needs just from the wetness alone, but she knows that you’re not easy to take. “That was an argument I lost a while ago.” 

Your hips flush with Haewon’s and she whines, shoving her face into the pillow set in front of her as she relaxes into the stable pace. A simple yank of her waist back to your thighs serves the only preamble, the quick groan ripped out of your chest, that rush of wanting this tightness and addicting feeling more and more. 

“Right?” You’re asking again, meshing her hips with yours, leaning forward and down to the nape of her neck. Sighs joining together in an impromptu chorus, “I’m not denying you winning me over.” 

Haewon’s hands here go a bit haywire, shooting up and out. One of them comes to grips with the comforter beneath her. You watch her body move, ass rippling through every pump back into her cunt. “Yeah, but you-” 

Her head then dips down into the pillow again, writhing in the twists left and right. You catch yourself hobbling over her upper body once more, lip trapped to your teeth. “You said ‘yeah’. Let’s keep it that way.” 

A gradual rhythm gets developed here, taking in every wonderful inch of Haewon’s dripping cunt, shaft picking up more and more slick with ease in every passing stroke. She’s so wonderfully tight around your length, molding to your cock like it’s the missing piece that makes her feel complete, and whole. There’s an attempt to level herself parallel to the mattress, but you don’t give her any kind of luxury whatsoever, pushing down on the small of her back that deepens the arch, nudging your cockhead down further past the threshold of her calefaction. 

You’re blinking, you’re believing, and you’re pretty much swearing to the heavens above at the thought out realization that Haewon was meant to be yours - like she was made for only you. She’s in the right position, taking you at just the right angle, all sensibilities hanging on a singular thread. Every hit spills out a quick phrase of pants, watch her struggle in keeping her head upright, a slacking neck in response with the consistent slaps of your hips into hers. 

Her slick creates these scattered strings across the skin - not only to the tops of your thighs, but to her ass as well, the sound of her moans bouncing off the walls once they start to rise up a bit in volume. 

“Fucking-” and it’s right at this moment, where she sounds relieved, it all comes down with a firm grind of her teeth, “fuck.” 

“Yeah?” You hum. 

“It’s so-” the blowback of your cock into her cunt becomes a little too much to bear, “it’s so fucking good.” 

You’re holding her in place, right at the hips, the unbelievable form of her ass rocking back and forth with every shift of motion caused by you. The low light of your humidifier works its hours on the nightstand, illuminating the comfy and watered colors onto her skin. She’s drenched in this soft honey shade, laying ruin of the pale sheets on her knees and elbows - face gazing to the window, proffering up these listless praises to fill up your head. 

The thing is: this isn’t the first time that you and her were like this. There’s an absolute certainty that someone living in either the floors above or below your room has heard everything that’s happened within these walls. Surely someone minding their own business walking along the sidewalk outside has seen Haewon’s gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass, her face full of rapture and pleasure - not having any sense of respect or decency to keep it in the room. You remember railing her poor pussy out on the balcony one time; and that was an issue for the landlord to bring up the following day, but neither you nor her really cared. 

What really mattered here, was fucking her brains out. Easy as that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god-” 

Every word that’s punctuated out of her lips starts to collapse on top of each other, the impact of your thrusts siphoning the last bits of air trapped in her lungs. She isn’t making her condition any better, suffocating herself deep into the pillow, hoping to drown out the wet noises of her cunt slipping your cock in with refined precision. This choking grip is more dangerous than her hands, her hitched breaths are in no comparison to your labored huffs, slowing your movements with one forceful drive in, a massage of her asscheeks here, another drag and thrust back into her tight cunt, and a playful slap to her ass, tainting the slick skin in red. 

“Baby, your fucking cunt,” you hiss. “Jesus christ.” 

A whiny ‘mhm-” is all you manage to get out of Haewon, breaking underneath your weight. Her ass is still facing up, face shoved into the pillow, nicking her neck up for air, fucking her down the curve of her spine. “Oh my goodness. You got it so deep. Hit me hard. Please, and I swear to fuck - ngh-” 

You’re groaning, increasing the sway of your hips into hers, “So fucking tight.” Haewon’s hands manage to find yours, holding the swell of her ass together, moving her body the opposite direction away from you, meeting the impact down the middle which sends your balls lightly tapping the nub of her clit. She knows that you’ve been working a bit too much for your own sake, so she goes on ahead and has her own fun, fucking herself back onto your cock, the recoil alone enough for you to just freeze on your knees and take it. 

“S’that feel good?” she asks innocently.

Spilling out another expletive, you angle your hips up as her ass comes crashing down. 

“You’re so hard for me,” Haewon continues, looking over with her body still pressed against the sheets, the left side of her face smiling at the sight of you trying to hold it together. “This cock fits so well inside- jesus, ah- had to let yourself go for a bit, didn’t you?” 

“If you keep your hips moving with my hands tied, I’m gonna fucking lose it.” 

The plot was already lost from the first dirty thought you had with her. 

Her ass keeps your lower half in check, unknowingly moving through muscle memory while the walls of your room continue to reverberate the stuttering breaths and quick curses slipping out of both of your lips. Your hands hold still in tandem with her fingers and start to claw into your palms, pleasure spiking everywhere in her body, skin hot to the touch as the claps start to increase in tempo - the rate shifting to something more desperate, erratic. 

“My fucking god, shit!” She wails, her hands shooting down to her ass, spreading herself wider while you lock your eyes at the sight of your cock buried into her cunt becomes a whole lot more clearer now, “Right there baby, holy fuck- this cock is just-” Haewon’s demeanor is diminishing by the second, words and sighs tumbling over in loops, but the pitch in her whines hit a familiar key or tone, gradually crescendoing when she gives up in squirming between your fingers. 

“Pound my ass- yes, fuck- this dick is amazing.” Her head swivels up before ducking below into the open cavity of her chest and arms, sucking in her stomach with whatever strength she has left, “Give me more,” she’s panting, head spinning and spinning like a ceiling fan, “Give it to me. I need more-” 

There’s not much left for you to take other than the stray tit that’s captured into your hand when you hunch yourself over her again, lift the upper half of her body upwards so that she’s in line with yours, entrapping that heat away from the cool air, trembling. Your mouth is back to her ear again, eyes half-lidded, fingers moving around your neck while the warmth of her cunt starts to burn across your length - the new lane created where your cock slides into her that creates this sequence of events of her convulsing, shuddering, pulling her hips back with a sole purpose to just ruin her. You’re hearing a slight wheeze out of her, maybe a sob too, the head of your cock’s hit a spot past her threshold where it literally makes her go stupid; mind and body into putty, exactly the way you like it. 

Her fingers continue to hold tight, cunt clenching around your thick shaft when you’ve finally got her past that edge. There’s a bit of a moment of pause when you and her are stacked on top of each other, exhaustion finally breaking through, coaxing her second orgasm as you’re keeping your cock warm inside of her, feeling her hips spaz out of control while you endure in fucking her poor, spent, pretty pussy. Both heels of her feet bend towards the backside of your thighs, pressing her waist into the mattress, sliding yourself out the tightness before teasing her with the half of your shaft. 

“There we go, Haewon. I’ve got you,” you’re telling her. The tone of your voice drowned out by the keening shattering through. “You’re perfect. Cum over this cock, baby. You deserved it.” 

She keeps on sighing when she comes down from her second high, summoning this lazy grin while you’re peppering her face with kisses, an indication for a job well done. But she taps the top of your hand twice, resting at the crease of her hips - and the shimmy of her hips still embedded with your cock tells you only one thing: 

“I wanna make you cum.” 

The insanity this woman has. It does something to you. 

So you waste no time at all. It’s enormously more than just a mess with how fucked up she is. 

When you give her what she needs: flipping on her back was the way to go, yanking her hips back into yours until you see her eyes go wide at the sudden stroke before rolling up behind her head and past her eyelids - everything starts to fall into place with the way the back of her ankles hold your waist, which only leaves you with the sole choice of pounding her so fucking hard that you’d have to hook yourself into the arch of her back where she’ll have no where to go - it’s a position well practiced, your ol’ reliable: firing your cock on all cylinders at a pace so inhuman until she’s able to look you in the eyes and cast a spell for you to finish on her pretty face and leave her there with the damage when it’s all said and done - the assurance that you’ll give her what she wants and have you craving for more - kissing you shamelessly like she’ll be stoned to a rock come the next day, and when you’re feeling the pit of your stomach open more and more, the muscles in your hips and legs moving and tensing in the midst of this sex-filled frenzy, there was only one instinct in your mind where it didn’t take much to pump and dump your load inside her. 

You can feel yourself getting close, head dizzying. “Haewon-” 

“I know, handsome boy,” she praises, pulling you so that your forehead touches hers, “can feel you throbbing down there.” 

She lets out this airy laugh when you wince a bit, hands reined at the small of her back and bringing her waist in, the impact of your cock rebounds her body once the pace starts to decrease. 

“Fill me up, like you always do,” Haewon husks, voice barely a whisper in contrast to your hoarseness, “Put a baby in me.” 

There’s this sort of tension in the air along with your body, driving your cock deep into her, burying your cum into the crevices of her pulsing hotness. Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, telling you to keep cumming inside of her, feeling every hot thread of your release coating her slopped walls. 

You can feel yourself get light-headed - the warmth alone, not to mention how wet and tight her pussy is still, a place where everything feels right - but the lust filled in your head starts to fade, blackened vision returning to normal; and before you know it, you’re coming back to earth. 

Neither of you move a muscle. Instead, you lay there for a bit, taking in the dwindling time of exploring each other’s bodies, holding yourselves together while your lips are conducting one final battle for that last dominance, the stench of sex and sweat still fresh and out to the open air. 

Haewon manages to wrap both of her arms around your neck, kissing the slope of her neck and collarbone, scratching the back of your head, looking up to the ceiling with a lazy smile, one plastered with satisfaction. She taps your shoulder to grab your attention, but all you could come up with was a simple hum, which seemed to be enough for her. 

“Go get me some lemons and water. I owe you a special something and a ride.” 

–

Morning rolls around not long after, and assessing the lay of the land of your living space with one eye open. Everything seems to be in their place, tv remotes, work bag next to the neighboring desk, and the singular cup on the counter next to the fridge. Another thing to note, Haewon already got a jump start to the day. 

You’re sliding across the floor with said singular cup being put into the kitchen sink, but with the other eye open now, you notice something at the corner of the kitchen island: a small box left open. 

“I wonder what she has for me this time,” you say to yourself, examining the box which turned out to be a contraceptive tablet. A note also slips out with a card attached. 

“Take today off. I’ll be coming over later. By the way, I hope you won’t get mad at me for snatching your little gift from Jiwoo. It was too cute for you to have sitting on your nightstand or coffee table, so I took it for myself. 

p.s 

Don’t worry about last night so much. I had everything thought out since our little ‘accident’ the first time. Can’t really say the same thing with what I said, but you can choose to ignore it…or not ;’)

- Haewon

xo <3” 

The attached card flipped over showed the name of the gacha toy gifted to you. A justified reaction of sighing with rolled eyes and the shake of your head was pretty much the start of some days; but hey, at least the breaks are enjoyable. 

“Sleight of hand my ass,” you mutter, thumbing the small slip of paper in your fingers, “she stole that from me.” 

-

a/n: sending my special flowers to @majorblinks (i love you foreverrr <3), @passingnotions (for happily agreeing to poke around wherever in the draft), and @yieldtotemptation (to opening the floodgates with ur bae fic).

thank you for reading and wemo check. :3

[mekakitsune]

"what would everyone think if they could see you now, huh?" - sub!vi x kinda mean dom gn!reader nsfw - minors dni

teeth and tongues clashed together in a messy, desperate haze. violet was laying beneath you, panting wildly into your mouth as you pinned her to the bed by her wrists. her cheeks were flushed and every now and then you could feel her desperately bucking her hips into you.

"fuck...i need you so bad...please." she panted, eyes wide when you pulled away from the heated kiss. "need t'fuck you..." she spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.

you all but laughed in her face, she started this, after all. "yeah? thats what youve wanted all along, isnt it?" you tease, free hand tracing down her bare chest, making her arch into your touch. "giving what you want is no fun, pretty girl." you eye her as you lean down to suck marks into the sensitive skin of her neck. another whimper leaves her lips as your teeth sink into her soft flesh, tongue soothing over the harsh marks you left behind.

"baby, fuck...m'sorry. i'll...hah...i'll be good. i'll be so good, please just fuckin' do something." she pleads, chest heaving under your touch.

ignoring her pleas, you speak– "what would everyone think if they could see you now, huh?" you lean close to her face, lips barely touching hers. a smirk grows on your lips as her breath hitches again, eyes watery and lips swollen.

"dont..." she closes her eyes, turning her head to avoid your gaze. your words worked her up beyond comprehension. she wanted nothing more than to take control, flip you over and fuck you into the mattress until you saw stars. but she didnt, something in her needed you to take control. needed you to take care of her, to put her in her place.

"look at me violet." your fingers find her chin, forcing her to face you. her eyes flutter open and its a sight to behold. she looks so, completely, fucked out. and you have yet to even touch her where she wants it.

her desperate eyes meet yours obediently, and you smile softly at her.

"youre so fucking needy." you bite despite your smile, clearly fed up with her whining. she whines again as you left yourself off of her hips, moving to slot yourself between her thighs. your fingers make quick work of her boxers– now soaked, you noted.

"keep em open baby, just like that" your hands find her thighs, spreading them rather harshly. you make sure you look her in her pretty eyes before your mouth meets her needy cunt. a shaky gasp falls from her lips as her fingers move to tangle themselves into your hair. you pull away as quick as you leaned into her, giving her a warning look.

"keep your hands to yourself, or i stop." fear of being left high and dry flashes in her eyes and she nods desperately, keeping her hands at her side.

"good girl.." you muttered, moving back down to suck at her clit. she whines helplessly above you, fists clenching by her side as you lap at her dripping pussy. she bucks softly into your face, and you push her down by her hips, the action making her moan out rather loudly. you continue to fuck her with your tongue, tracing lines from her hole to her clit, moaning softly to yourself at her taste. without giving her any sort of warning, you push a finger into her, making her hiss in pleasure. you move in and out, slowly, knowing it was no where near enough to push her over the edge.

"please..." she begs, fingers gripping the sheets harshly.

"so fuckin spoiled, yknow that?" you muttered into her cunt, the vibrations of your words making her eyes roll back and lips part once again.

you add another finger into her dripping h cunt and she just about loses it. her whines are so desperate and you can tell shes already close by the way shes squeezing around your fingers.

"please...fuck please lemme cum–" she blabbers, thighs tightening around your head, closing in enough that your hand has to move to pull them apart again.

"need to cum, baby? give it to me" you speak, voice full of greed. something akin to pride and possessiveness blooms in your chest at the thought of being the only one to make her like this, a whining, soaking mess.

her only response is a choked moan and her fingers finding you hair, despite your previous threats. her body trembles as she cums around your fingers, moaning out words incoherently.

you fuck her through it, and then some, making her gasp at the harsh overstimulation to her sensitive pussy.

"fuck baby...s'good, thats enough–" she groans, knowing deep down you had no plans of stopping. and that you dont, you continue to fuck her, tears now rolling down her pretty cheeks as she rolls her hips to meet your thrusts.

"needy slut, telling me to stop when you clearly don't want me to." you spoke, launched far into the unfamiliar headspace. your harsh words make her shudder, spilling another orgasm over your fingers and tongue. if you had the choice, youd keep her here like this, forever.

tehe i needed to stop myself bc i really could have wrote this forever lol send me reqs for the arcane ladies + a prompt from the list i reblogged! id love to write em :3

[whoreforsexymen]

SMUT | One-Liner Prompt List

Pairings: Anyone x Reader

Pronouns: Mix of GN!, Fem!Pronouns, etc. Will happily make any prompt request specific to your preferences 🤍

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Notes: Please feel free to send submissions using one or more of these!! 🤍 I can’t wait to see what characters, prompt combos, and ideas you guys come up with!!

Will be updating this list as I come up with more, or will be adding more parts. If you wanna see specifically themed prompt lists, lmk in my ask box!!!!

Will be creating a fluff list, too. Stay tuned 🤍

REQUEST/SUBMISSION INFO

1. “Stop looking at me like that or else I’m gonna cum too fast.”

2. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.”

3. “Ooh. The cat’s got claws~”

4. “No, no— Don’t let little ol’ me stop you.”

5. “No. Don’t take those off. Those stay on.”

6. “You didn’t seriously think I was gonna let you cum… Did you?”

7. “I’d rather watch you take something other than whiskey down your throat.” “Oh yeah? Like what?”

8. “Don’t mock me while I’m fucking you.”

9. “That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now.”

10. “Patience, love. Good girls/boys are patient.”

11. “Lousy manners won’t get you very far. Now. Try saying ‘please’?”

12. “I’d spank you but I think you’d enjoy it too much for it to be reprimanding.”

13. “It really is such a shame that you can’t tell me what you want with a mouth so full of my cock.”

14. “If you want my cock you’re gonna have to do a better job of convincing me.”

15. “Watch your tone. Don’t make me put you in your place.”

16. “Crawl.”

17. “Sorry, love, it’s hard to understand you with your face buried in the pillows like that.”

18. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

19. “Careful love, or I might just eat you alive before you can leave.”

20. “You’re just dripping, aren’t you? How bad are you aching for me to fuck you, huh?”

21. “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”

22. “Then I guess I’ll just fuck you up against the window, hmm? Make everybody watch. Since you clearly want an audience so bad, cause you can’t stay quiet.”

23. “You’re pretty demanding for a brat who’s done nothing to earn the right to make demands.”

24. “You talk such a big game for someone who can’t even put two words together when I’m fucking them.”

25. “If your eyes move from mine even once, I’m leaving. And I won’t come back. I’ll leave you here all alone. Aching. Begging.”

26. “You call that begging? Tsk tsk. You can do better than that.”

27. “You call that moaning? Tsk tsk. You can moan better than that.”

28. “You call that crawling? Tsk tsk. You can crawl better than that.”

29. “I won’t even consider fucking you unless you cum all over my boots first. Show me how bad you want it.”

30. “Lick it up.”

31. “Slow.”

32. “Easy.”

33. “Careful, little mouse. Keep talkin’ like that and I might just have to teach you a thing or two about respect.”

34. “That’s not nearly desperate enough.”

35. “Did I hear a please? My. You’re being so polite for once.”

36. “You’re being so obedient.”

37. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

38. “Don’t make me come over there.”

39. “I’m not pulling out. Want you full of my cum. Want to see that shit dripping out of you by the time I’m through with you.”

40. “So that’s why you had such an attitude, eh? Just needed a good fucking to pacify you?”

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 7

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of murdering someone (as a joke, kind of), so much Scooby-Doo and dog talk, GIRL DAD RUSSELL!! (he's a warning because – well, you'll see)

Y/N: This chapter... this chapter is literally my favorite from this series. Enjoy!🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 6 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

Russell, clearly anticipating her fury, quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I know this sounds insane, and I know you probably hate my guts – fair enough, you’ve got every reason to – but Y/N sent me to grab some stuff for her and Emma.”

Your sister’s brows furrowed in confusion for many things. “Where the hell are they? What did you do–”

“They’re at the hospital in Springland” Russell cut in, holding up a hand. “They’re fine, okay? Just– let me pack some things for them. You can come with me, I’ll explain everything on the way” he said.

Her hands started to tremble, and she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. “So, they’re okay? Emma’s okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. They’re good” Russell said, though his gaze was unreadable. “Please, let me–”

A flood of emotions hit Anna all at once. Relief, yes, but also an undercurrent of fear she couldn’t shake. Emma was okay. That’s all that mattered. Still, she didn’t understand why they would be in Springland. And…why hadn’t Y/N called her? And why the hell was he here picking up their stuff?

Anna stared at him, trying to read him. The whole situation was a mess. Y/N and Russell hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms, and now here he was, showing up at her door, looking exhausted and out of place. Why him?

Still, Anna couldn’t help the relief flooding through her. Y/N and Emma were safe. They had to be. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was still off.

“Alright” she sighed and reluctantly let him in. She helped him pack some sweaters, a new pair of jeans, clean underwear and everything you’d need during a hospital stay. She also tossed clothes to Emma, her favorite plushie – a Scooby-Doo toy your parents gave her. 

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Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. The last few days had chewed you up, spat you out, and trampled over what was left. You weren’t just tired. You were hollowed out, running on fumes and sheer willpower. You had a feeling like you’d need a month's rest, minimum. 

But at least Emma was safe. She was sleeping peacefully now, tucked into the hospital bed beside you. Physically, she was unharmed, Rourke and his men hadn’t laid a finger on her. Yet, you knew that wasn’t the whole story. Mentally, the trauma of it all would leave scars neither of you could see just yet. Your brave, sweet girl had been kidnapped. Stolen away. And the thought of what could have happened – no. Your mind can’t even go there.

Now here you were, sitting vigil beside her hospital bed. You’d been given your own bed in the room – thank heaven for small favors – but you couldn’t bring yourself to use it. Instead, you stayed planted by Emma’s side, staring at her tiny face as she slept. Her brows were furrowed even in rest, her lips pressed into a worried pout. Seeing her like that made your guilt weigh heavier.

You should have been her protector, her guardian angel, the one who kept the bad things away. And yet here you were, staring at the evidence of your failure. No four-year-old – or any child, for that matter – should have to go through this.

Your mind wouldn't quit, racing through the last few days like a bad movie on loop. First, the panic when you realized Emma was gone, the gut-wrenching moment it hit you, like a punch to the stomach. Then there was Rourke, that smug, twisted, mustache-framed smile of his, and the mess you’d thrown yourself into just to get her back. The helplessness you felt when you finally decided to call Colter. And, of course, there was Russell blowing back into your life like a hurricane, as if you hadn’t just spent years avoiding him.

They’d saved her. Saved both of you, really. And for all the hurt and confusion between you and Russell, you couldn’t deny that he had stepped up when it mattered most.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. 

The door creaked open, and Anna’s familiar auburn hair peeked in first. Her eyes softened when they landed on you and Emma. She slipped inside, moving quietly not to wake Emma, and behind her came Russell, lugging two heavy sports bags.

Anna came straight to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly as soon as she reached your side. You returned the hug, letting her warmth chase away a fraction of the chill that had washed over your skin.

“God, I was so worried. So, so, so worried.” she whispered with a voice heavily trembling.

“I know, I– I’m so sorry” you murmured. “I was too. Did Russell tell you?”

She pulled back just enough to look at you. “Yeah, he briefed me” she said as her hands were still gripping your arms. “Don’t worry, I put him in his place” she said and Russell rolled his eyes at that. She really did, the whole car ride had been a rather tense experience.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have t–”

“Stop” Anna cut you off, smoothing a hand over your hair like she used to when you were kids. “Of course, I did.”

Her eyes slid to Russell, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew you two had so many things to talk about, but – for obvious reasons – she didn’t want to leave you with him. On the ride here, Russell tried to explain everything. And by everything, he meant everything. His line of work, the reason you were brought to your sister’s house that night four and a half years ago, and the real reason Emma was taken. To say Anna hadn’t taken it well was an understatement. But even in her anger, she couldn’t miss the regret in his voice, or the way he spoke about Emma – like she was the most precious thing in his world, even though he barely knew her. That, more than anything, made her hesitate.

Anna’s gaze darted to Russell, who was mindlessly unpacking one of the bags she’d hurriedly thrown together, then back to you.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Her voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken warnings, all of them aiming directly at Russell. “I brought the essentials,” she added, nodding toward the duffels by the door. “I’ll be outside. Need to call Mom and Dad anyway.”

“Thanks, Anna”

She gave you a small, tight smile and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Emma’s forehead. Without another word, she stepped out of the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Russell. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, not this time.

Russell cleared his throat, abandoning the duffels mid-unpack, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Thank you” you said quietly, your voice softer than you’d expected.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t have a specific answer, really. There was too much to thank him for.

Bringing you here to make sure you and Emma were safe, for one.

At the diner, he’d distracted Emma with soothing words and a little game – like connecting with her was the most natural thing in the world. That moment had surprised you, even warmed you.

And then, of course, there was the big thing. The thing that mattered most. He and his brother had risked their lives to save Emma. Your child. Your entire world.

Sure, he was partly the reason Emma had been in danger to begin with. But after everything, could you really hold that against him? Not more than you blamed yourself, anyway. He hadn’t even known about her, let alone that she could be used as a pawn to hurt him. That part? That was on you. You’d made the decision to keep quiet about your pregnancy, letting your own hurt and anger drown out better judgment.

Really, both of you had made mistakes. He hadn’t told you what his real job was. You hadn’t told him he was going to be a father. And now, here you were – two people who had made a mess, trying to pick up the pieces.

“How is she?” Russell asked, his gaze landing on Emma. His voice was steady, but you could hear the waves of guilt underneath like a howling ocean.

“She’s... okay” you said, letting out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in your chest for days. “Physically, at least. The rest? That’s going to take time.”

He nodded but his jaw worked like he was trying to grind his regret into dust. “She’ll get through this…She’s strong. Like her mom.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his words. For a second, the fortress you’d built around yourself wavered.

Hell, who were you kidding? That thing had crumbled the second Emma was back in your arms.

“I don’t know about that” you admitted.

“I do” he said, stepping a little closer, careful. “I saw it. These last few days... you didn’t stop. You didn’t back down. Not even when I showed up and probably made everything ten times harder.”

Your chest tightened, and you glanced down at your hands. They were still trembling, like your body hadn’t gotten the memo that the worst was over.

“I was terrified, Russell. Every second, I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never see her again.”

“But you didn’t” he said, sitting beside you like he belonged there. After a beat of silence, he added, “Because you fought for her. And when it came down to it, we fought for her together.”

That last word hit you like a gentle nudge to the heart. Together. You lifted your eyes to meet his, and for the first time in longer than you cared to admit, you saw something there you hadn’t let yourself see before. Honesty. Regret. And maybe... hope?

“I don’t even know how to thank you” you said, your voice soft. “You and your brother. I don’t even know where to start. I can’t—”

“Don’t” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I just... I had to. For her. For you.”

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. “You saved her, Russell. That means everything to me.”

He leaned forward, his hand hovering near yours, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to close the gap. “I’d do it again. A thousand times over.”

The silence between you stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with all the things neither of you were ready to say but couldn’t deny anymore.

Finally, you reached out and your fingers brushed his calloused hands. “Stay” you whispered. “We’ve got a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

The corners of his lips tugged up slightly, almost like he wanted to smile but thought better of it.

“I can do that.”

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You can’t remember when or how you drifted off, and you certainly can’t remember how you got into the bed beside Emma’s. For a moment, you were completely disoriented, like a GPS that lost signal. Your ears perked up at the sound of the TV, the familiar voice of Don Messick’s echoing through the room like an old friend. Was that Scooby-Doo you were hearing? Had you and Emma watched so much of it that now your brain was hallucinating talking dogs in your sleep?

You slowly peaked one eye open, then the other, dopiness sweeping through your system. You had to blink a couple before the blurry sight became clear in front of you.

There was Emma, sitting up on her bed, her eyes glued to the hospital TV in the corner, watching a rerun of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? She was making soft, nonsensical sounds that barely registered to you in your half-awake state. 

And next to her, there was Russell, lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm, also mumbling. Emma’s head was nestled against his torso, her small body curled up in a cozy little ball next to his as she clutched the Scooby plushie Anna must have packed for her. They were both completely absorbed in the episode, their voices blending together in what could only be described as an animated commentary on the show.

You tried to make sense of what they were saying, but their words were a jumble to you – intelligible to them, maybe, but not to your sleep-fogged brain.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize the episode they were watching: Decoy for a Dognapper.

Of course. Emma was a Scooby fan. You and her know all the episodes by heart at this point, so much that Scooby-Doo was practically a second language in your house. And it seemed like Russell had caught on too, or at least, he’d been swept into the Scooby-verse by default. The two of them were so wrapped up in their conversation, they didn’t even notice you were awake.

“No way! She won’t? Why not? A dog is awesome” Russell said, his voice carrying the first full sentence your foggy mind could grasp.

“She says I’m too young” Emma replied, snuggling closer to his side as though the injustice of it all was just simply too much to bear.

“Too young? That’s ridiculous. What does that even mean?” Russell shot back, his tone scandalized for comedic effect. “Dogs don’t care how old you are. They care if you’ve got snacks and ear scratchin’ in store for ‘em.”

Emma giggled. “Mom doesn’t wanna pick up poop.”

Russell tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if I remember correctly, your mom was seriously considering getting a dog a few years ago.”

At that, you sat up with a groan. “Really, Russell?” 

It was true, he and you both knew it. About five or so years ago, you’d gone on and on about adopting a dog – all the goddamn time. Russell had endured countless rants about breeds, shelters, and the pros and cons of pet ownership. Now, the smirk on his face told you he was thoroughly enjoying throwing it back in your face. Payback’s a bitch, huh?

Both of them turned to look at you. Emma with her wide-eyed, angelic innocence, and Russell with a grin that was downright infuriating in its smugness.

“Morning” he greeted with a widening grin. “We were just discussing the tragic lack of a dog in Emma’s life. Care to defend yourself?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Emma chimed in with an emboldened voice by her new ally. “Why can’t I have one?”

You rubbed your temples, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Because you’re too young, and I know exactly how that would end. I’d be the one walking it, feeding it, and cleaning up after it, dealing with everything.”

Russell raised a brow, looking way too amused. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind the idea a couple of years ago.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t make her think she has backup in this, Russ.”

“Too late” he said, leaning back with a grin. “Team Dog is officially in full force, yeah?”

Emma threw her hands in the air triumphantly, flashing you the biggest grin. “Team Dog!”

You groaned, but the warmth bubbling in your chest betrayed you. It wasn’t just the banter – it was seeing them like this, bonding over something silly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Emma looked like a carefree kid again. 

You narrowed your eyes at Russell, fully expecting another smug remark when he suddenly looked... hesitant. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the bed like a man about to drop a bombshell.

“What?” you asked, immediately suspicious.

“Well” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “don’t freak out, but... your parents are here. They got here a couple hours ago while you were out. Anna called them, I guess. She must’ve worked her magic because, well... let’s just say I was fully prepared to be murdered the second they walked in.”

Your hand flew to your forehead as you groaned, visions of your parents tearing into Russell flashing through your mind.

You didn’t tell them about him being here yet… and you guess it was already too late.

Your dad would be loud about it, your mom quieter but somehow more terrifying. You could only imagine the list of grievances they had ready for him. You just hoped they didn’t cause a scene in front of the whole hospital – and most importantly, in front of Emma.

“Wait” you narrowed your eyes. “They’re not trying to kill you? What did Anna even say to make that happen?”

“I think she went with the ‘he saved Emma’ card. Pretty sure your mom’s exact words were, ‘Well, I suppose I won’t bury him under the hydrangeas... yet.’”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted. It was just so her. “Sounds about right. And dad?”

Russell winced theatrically. “Your dad... definitely gave me the look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m debating whether you’re worth the jail time.’ But he hasn’t thrown any punches yet, so I’ll count that as a win.”

Emma tilted her head, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why does Grandma and Grandpa wanna hurt Russell? He’s so nice!”

The room went so quiet you could hear the faint hum of the hospital machinery. Russell froze, looking at you for backup, but you were too busy giving him a look – the universal signal for you started this, buddy, now deal with it.

“Well, sweetheart” he said slowly, scratching his head. “They don’t actually want to hurt me. It’s just... a joke. You know, like when people say they’re gonna kill someone, but they don’t really mean it?”

Emma gave him a serious look, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “But why? What did you do?”

You sighed, realizing there was no easy way out of this. “Sweetie” you began gently, “it’s kind of a long story. But Grandma and Grandpa are just... protective. They’re not mad at Russell anymore. Or at least, not much.”

Emma’s curious gaze ping-ponged between the two of you. “Why?”

“Okay” you said, sitting on the edge of Emma’s bed and taking a deep breath. “The thing is... Russell didn’t do anything bad. Not really. It’s just... well, a long time ago, before you were born, Russell and I used to–”

“Date…” Russell interjected, apparently deciding to rip the band-aid off.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Date? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

She stared at the two of you, her little brows furrowing as she processed this new information. Then her face lit up with excitement. “Were you married?”

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes” you said, holding up your hands. “No, we were not married. We just... used to be together.”

Emma tilted her head again, her expression now puzzled. “Then why are Grandma and Grandpa angry at Russell?”

Russell chuckled nervously. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, kiddo. They’re just... protective of your mom.”

“Very protective” you muttered. You took a deep breath, preparing for the big reveal. “Sweetheart, here’s the thing. After Russell and I stopped being boyfriend and girlfriend… I found out that you were already growing in my belly.”

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her mouth forming a perfect O at your carefully selected words. “You mean… like when babies are in tummies?”

You were trying to keep your tone light as you nodded. “Exactly like that.”

Emma tilted her head, her little brow furrowed as she worked it out in her mind. “So… that means… Russell’s my daddy?”

Russell smiled, his heart visibly melting. “Yeah.”

Emma blinked at him, then at you, then back at him, as though she was piecing together the most important puzzle of her life. After a moment of silence, her face broke into a huge grin. “YAY! I have a daddy!”

Emma scooted closer to Russell, wrapping her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re my daddy now! That means you have to stay forever!”

Russell’s eyes glistened, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’ll be here as much as I can, I promise.”

Emma pulled back slightly, her face lighting up with another burst of excitement. She turned her wide, sparkling eyes up at Russell. “Can we get a dog now, Daddy?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, for the love of – Emma!”

“What?” she said innocently, looking between you and Russell. “You said no before ‘cause it was just you! But now Daddy can help with the poop!”

Russell burst out laughing, clearly enjoying this too much. “She’s got a point, you know.”

You shot him a look that could have frozen water. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Team Dog!” Emma giggled and Russell ruffled her hair affectionately, somehow steering her to sit back down and continue their Scooby-Doo marathon.

Despite yourself, you took a deep breath, still trying to get your head around the unexpected turn of events.

This was... a lot.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it should. Sure, it had been a complete curveball to drop the whole Russell-is-your-dad bombshell, but Emma’s bright smile, the way she’d lit up at the news, somehow made it all feel like it could work.

As Emma giggled, you let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t how you thought this conversation would go, but somehow, it was already starting to feel a little more like a family.

A very unusual family.

But a family nonetheless.

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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 8):

Still, Russell had clearly decided that proximity was his job. He was there nearly every day, and on more than a few nights, too. 

“Just in case” he’d say. You didn’t know, but he loved staying there when the both of you were sound asleep. During those times, he felt an indescribable peace. 

And then there was his latest obsession: fixing everything. It started innocently enough – he noticed a cabinet door hanging loose and gave it a quick tune-up. Then he spotted the wobbly bathroom doorknob. Before long, the guy was like a one-man Home Depot commercial, patching up squeaks and quirks you hadn’t even realized were annoying you.

And at first, you didn’t even notice. But one day, you walked into the kitchen, and something felt... off. Not bad-off, just different. Quieter. 

The cupboards didn’t bang shut anymore, the sticky drawer slid like butter, and that creaky floorboard by the living room? Silent. It was like Russell had decided that if he couldn’t fix all your problems, he’d settle for conquering your house.

And the worst part? It was kind of working.

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I might have giggled all the way while writing it, or maybe I didn’t. But hey, Emma has a dad!

Chapter 8 coming soon...

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Animated Series ending tier list

Okay this is based on a discussion with @j4gm, kim and mifil the other day

These are all cartoons with the exception of Homestuck. I'll admit I don't get invested in a lot of TV shows, even animated shows, so this is limited to stuff I like. Maybe i forgot something but if i did it's probably not worth talking about.

Here's the list if you're interested in building your own.

So I'll go through each item one by one and explain. Yes, I did arrange them based on better (left) and worse (right) for each tier. I'll start from top to bottom so I have the most energy for the better show endings.

I'm rating them both in how they respect the stories of their show, and how entertaining/cohesive they are as a piece of media. To be honest, the former matters to me more than the latter, but some of the shows at the top of this list aren't even ones I particularly like, because their endings were just that well written.

Astonishing

Owl House. This show got better and better with each episode. I don't know, I was blown away by how bad it was at the start and how great it was at the end. And of every item on this list, this one's ending episode had the best pacing. There was lots of room to breathe, lots of reminders of the connections between various characters, and the villain was taken care of in a satisfying way. And we got a beautiful epilogue. The only reason Owl House is in the same tier as She-ra and Gravity Falls, instead of being its own category, is because I felt it had some shortcomings, particularly s3e2 focused on a bunch of characters nobody has ever had any reason to care for, and a lot of the cast don't reach the potential they could do because they lack focus, so I don't have as much emotional attachment to it as a lot of other shows listed here. Anyway here's my favourite moment:

2. She-Ra and the Princess of Power. This is my favourite show on this list because I think it's the most cohesive of the lot. Even though it has a rough start, and often follows cartoon logic, from the very beginning of She-ra to the end it focuses strongly on the same themes. The cycle of abuse and pain and that feeling you will need to earn love, you need to earn the right to exist. It does so with a wide cast of characters, but it's also very good at trimming down to a smaller cast when it needs more focus. There are a lot of good decisions to make sure it worked in the small runtime it had. The ending of she-ra is basically its entire final season. It's one long arc. It doesn't have any major weak spots like The Owl House's final season did, and it has more room to breathe, with 13 incredible episode of about 20 minutes each, more than twice the length. And it delivers on every single character. Every member of the cast gets a moment to shine across the season, yet it isn't so distracted as to pull attention away from Catra and Adora. What makes She-ra's ending a bit weaker than Owl House's is the pacing of the final episode. Heart part 1 and 2, while great, is absolutely rammed, and one of the weaker episodes of that season because of it. You don't get enough room to breathe, you don't get to soak in the characters' emotions quite as much as in the episode prior, Failsafe. But I would count Failsafe as part of the ending. So while season 5's finale isn't even the best finale of She-ra (s3 and s4 were harder hitting), the final season as a whole is incredibly strong. And it's a very entertaining piece of media too! Ugh. I love it.

Here's this powerful scene of Catra whispering and yet screaming to Adora to stay with her, even in the end.

3. Gravity Falls.

To be honest I'm not much of a Gravity Falls fan, so I don't have as much to say as I do about the other two shows, but this ending is highly regarded across the cartoon community. It works perfectly within the smaller scope of the show, bringing a wide, crazy calamity for the characters to work with.

My problem with Gravity falls is Mabel. Not that she's a bad character, but that they don't spend enough time making her a good one. And the ending reflects that - it shows her doing something very major, overturning the world, and that's interesting, but it keeps presenting Mabel's problems as rather shallow instead of focusing on her psychology and why she's making these mistakes. Meanwhile it spends a lot of time on Dipper and explaining and justifying his teenage boy mentality and it drived me crazy how much more of a main character Dipper is than Mabel. Because it's Mabel I relate more to. She's more like I was when I was 12. It's a teen boy's show for teen boys, so I don't like it as much as Owl House or Amphibia. Other than that the ending is a good time and I love the themes of family, I love that Dipper has such low self worth and is grappling with the idea of what manliness even is, facing misguided pressure from other relatives like Stan and Ford. And I love the relationship between Stan and Ford, the mistakes they made, and how Stan ultimately takes responsibility for being an obstructive little shit by removing his memory, taking Bill with him!

Yeah, perhaps this show's ending could've been further strengthened by Stan having his memory lost forever, or having a harder time regaining it. But it makes sense in the stakes of Gravity Falls, where the world resets after every episode even if there was a zombie invasion. I don't see them having Stan forget his great nephew/niece as the ending of the show.

And it has a nice scene with the characters driving off in the bus... Heartbreaking. I love that Stan and Ford go adventuring together afterwards. And I love the theme song.

Remaining rankings below - I think these three should be celebrated most. It's gonna be a shorter summary from here.

Genuinely Good

These are endings that blow you away, but do have a couple nooks and crannies stopping them from reaching the top tier. Another person's list might put them at the top.

Adventure Time Distant Lands: See what's crazy about Distant Lands is that anyone one of these episodes might be the best in the series if it was a different show, but Adventure Time is such a good show that the way Distant Lands is different stands out to me. Like, Together Again, you might think I'm crazy for not putting it above Owl House, but while it's a fantastic episode, really emotional, it's not even my favourite Distand Lands episode. That would be Obsidian which I felt was a more honest resolution to the characters of the show itself, showing the limitless future ahead of the cast instead of what TA did which was demonstrate that Finn really didn't go much further after the end of the show. I felt TA was very limiting in that sense, it contradicted the ending to Adventure Time, which had the strength of "the adventure never ends". Which means that growth never ends. Finn is supposed to be an ever changing character, but in Together Again, he's stagnant.

Other than that, it's absolutely top tier. But not good enough for me to call it the best of the best. Even if I think Finn's character writing was a downgrade, or harmed the main show, I think where DL and TA did better than Come Along With Me is it was actually coherent and had strong themes rather than being a mishmash of random parts of Adventure Time that they wanted to shove in before it was over. It was a better tv finale, one of the best and most emotional ever made, but it's hard to call it a better Adventure Time finale, because AT's legacy hinders on so much more. 2. OK KO: Let's be Heroes: This is a show that went under the radar. It was coming out at the same time as Steven Universe, which was far more popular. So I'll explain it to you: OK KO has two endings. KO has grappled with his alternate persona, TKO, for the entire show. In the first ending, TKO takes over, and starts fighting everyone in a giant tournament. He literally kills all the cast, while KO is struggling to regain control. KO's epiphany is that TKO is a part of himself he buried long ago. KO has always tried to be the sweetest kid possible, so all his rage and fire, all his strength, was neglected and buried. That became TKO. It's similar to the ending of Celeste. They fuse together, but KO is crying because he killed all his friends. So he makes a wish to the God of the Universe to give everyone a happy ending. Then you get a really nice ending montage of all the characters from OK KO having the time of their life. One interesting touch was Venomous, KO's bastard father, had very little to do with KO in this timeline. KO clearly wanted nothing to do with him. But Venomous is shown raising his adoptive daughter Fink and doing a fantastic job. The final episode of OK KO has KO seemingly stuck in time acceleration. Time is flying by, his friends are achieving their goals, leaving the town, way before he can begin to process what he's even doing here. Everything is going faster and faster and it's like he's jumping forward! He doesn't know what's going on!!! But when he explains his plight, he's told... This is normal. This is a normal part of growing up. What seems like time acceleration is just time passing by. Then the rest of the episode show KO going through his life in the same manner. A big gag of the show is KO is age 6-11. That's his age. It's the same as the target audience for OKKO. But you see him grow up. His twelth to fifteenth birthday... 18th to 24th birthday... 25th to 35th birthday... At the end, he's in charge of the Bodega, a full adult looking after runts just like Mr Gar did. I dunno, I felt this was a very meaningful way to end the show. Even if it's not the most emotionally heavy hitting series, even if it's way too short, it did something that stays in my mind to this day. Time goes by in such a flash that you don't notice it was there to begin with, so appreciate the good things life throws at you.

3. The Legend of Korra: The show Korra wasn't particularly great, if I was rating the media as a whole it would probably be at the very bottom of this list. Yes below Star and Homestuck and Kipo. It's not remarkable in the slightest and constantly fumbles.

However I was at the edge of my seat during the series finale in Season 4. I was excited by the conflict between Korra and Kuvira. I loved the metalbending battles. I loved Korra's actualisation, how Kuvira is a very good rival, how their whole conflict plays out with Korra demonstrating such an INSURMOUNTABLE LEVEL OF STRENGTH both in power and character to save Kuvira from her own mistake.

I love how Korra decides to take a break and leave with Asami into the spirit world through the portal she just opened. It was a nice relationship in a show that has so heavily fumbled its prior character dynamics.

And you can't forget how it felt watching this the first time. Afterwards, Bryke made a post on tumblr saying "Korrasami is Canon". You have to remember, this was long before Bubbline was anything more than subtext in two episodes. This was before Steven Universe's "Stronger than You". This was the first time two girls were confirmed to be in a relationship in a kid's cartoon in America. I was so happy. You have to understand Korrasami did a lot of good things and made a lot of the queer representation in these other items possible.

Did the job

These are endings that were OK. They were satisfying but they weren't anything special. They weren't the best episodes or seasons of the series they're from.

Avatar: The last Airbender: I will be honest this show is in a similar realm to She-ra wherein its whole final season is one big buildup to a couple of fast-pased episodes. And honestly its final episode might be better than She-ra's in a pacing sense? But... The simple part is I don't like Avatar as much. I didn't feel particularly strongly about most of these characters. It's a very competent tv finale, with strong scenes - the Agni Kai, and Katara's capture of Azula, are particular strong points. But it's quite long and there are a lot of scenes I don't feel much about, like Aang vs Ozai. Back in the day lots of people were unhappy Aang spared Ozai, and I get that it's not in character for him to just kill him, but it was the original "deus ex machina" for Aang to find a way to get out of it and get what he wanted. It isn't particularly interesting. And then Aang x Katara... I don't care. So yeah ATLA does the job. It's a great final season but I don't care for the finale itself and the characters. while great for the time - by far the EARLIEST show to release on this list - are more childish and cartoony than most. They don't have depth required to compete with more modern cartoons. You've only got maybe two outstanding characters in a tight story vs She-ra's one dozen in a looser story, and honestly I value character more than cohesion because that's what you remember. That's what makes you feel things. Anyone can make a story where things happen but what makes you care? Being a bit harsh here because a lot of people call this the greatest show of all time blah de blah and throw away everything all the other shows do better. But the ATLA finale isn't even in the top ten most interesting episodes of the series. This part went hard though (couldn't find a video of it alone):

Azula starts the scene dominating Katara, and then Katara turns the tables and restrains her using the very ice which fire is supposed to melt, which is mentally destroying for Azula. All she can do is scream and breathe fire when she is restrained, unable to let out all her rage and pain. And Katara spares a moment to witness this, looking troubled, before she runs off to Zuko, attempting to save his life.

2. Adventure Time original ending: Why is my favourite show of all time listed so far down? Why? Well it's because while that AT finale is emotional, hits a lot of themes, it's... a fucking mess. The first part is a war which has only been relevant for two episodes, the second part is a dream sequence which destroy any tension you might've had, and the rest is an unrelated battle against GOLB because we needed a real final boss.

It's a really bad tv finale. And it even does harm to my favourite character in the show, Princess Bubblegum, by making her seem irrational. She's someone who has had the entire series for us to get to know her, to see her biggest flaws and see her struggle to overcome them. So for her to fall back on them yet again, nearly fuck everyone over, with such little buildup and justification and literally throw a child tantrum when Finn interrupts it, it's an injustice to her. She deserved better than everyone thinking she's a fascist forever. The AT crew should have respected their own work on that character better instead of leaving her off like that.

But... even despite these issues, despite being so incoherent? It's a great Adventure Time ending. It makes perfect sense. Of COURSE it's anticlimactic! Of COURSE there's a ten minute dream sequence of crazy shit happening! Of course it's so sudden, things happen so quickly without much time spent to reflect on them! It's Adventure Time! This is what we're HERE for! And the emotional heart of the episode, it isn't really in the Great Gum War or the battle against Golb. It's in Shermie and Beth, and Future Ooo. The fact that the world will end again, but even then.. it's fine. Everything changes. Everything grows. Nothing can stay as it is forever, but letting it go might allow something new and beautiful to take its place.

It's in Jake trying to protect his home, freaking out, and BMO coming in... instead of being looked after, BMO decides to reassure jake, even in certain doom.

It's in Time Adventure. We may not be able to go home, turn back time, relive the past and return to how things were, but... you and I will always be back then.

3. Scavenger's Reign: I felt this show started stronger than it ended. The ending wasn't offensive but it wasn't good either. Honestly I don't have shit to say about the ending, other than that Barry is an annoying stereotype of an autistic character with no agency of his own and it breaks my heart. I liked how relentlessly bad Kris was and I liked Azi struggling to save the day. I liked how her character evolved from being straightfoward and pushing down Levi's curious, kind traits, to embracing those very things in her memory.... while maintaining the strength in adversity needed to challenge someone like Kris. The baby alien thing sure was there. I dunno, the earlier eps with those two hit harder than the ending. The worst part is the sequel bait. We are not getting a sequel. Why is there sequel bait? Seems like the crew were a bit too optimistic for a team of cartoonists working for HBO Max.

But the show as a whole is incredible and has left a strong impression. So, an inoffensive ending is completely fine. I like how everyone is still stranded because of Kris, who meanwhile is dehydrating to death in space because of the organic Levi invasion, and all the people they left behind are chilling in the alien wonderland, learning how to live comfortably.

4. Fionna and Cake: We're now moving into the endings I dislike for one reason or another. I liked Fionna and Cake's themes with Simon and Betty, how it showed a bit more from Betty's side, how obsessive she was with him and he didn't even know.

This does have a weakness though. It removes agency from Betty. It was her choice, in the finale, to sacrifice herself to become GOLB. She was chasing Simon over and over and over again, SHE was the obsessive mad scientist, and she finally achieved her goal at great cost even though could've given up at any time. It was a tragedy. But here it kinda shifts the blame on Simon, even though he was a victim of Betty's obsession. I'm not accusing it of victim blaming, more that I really liked that it was Betty making her own terrible mistakes. It added a lot of character and conviction to her. I don't think Fionna and Cake undermines this much. Kim was a lot more bothered. Besides the Simon plot, the rest is.. ok. It was very predictable Fionna would want to protect the boring, happy world she came from. It fits and it has heart. But it's not remarkable. The ending montage is... weird. Why is Jay and Little Destiny here? Why is Baby Finn here? What about their worlds? Won't they be missed? Did Farmworld Finn fucking die? And the big problem with Fionna and Cake is.. it's such a meanspirited show, even compared with Adventure Time. It relies on you finding tragic shit really funny, like BMO having a horrible gory deeath in jerry. When Fionna and Cake has desensitized me this much, it's hard to feel emotionally invested in this world anymore. It made mistakes by showing too many alternate universes and undermining the world of Adventure Time itself, and I have issues with how Marceline was completely absent from the series - AGAIN - despite allegedly being so important to Simon. It's an outright BAD Adventure Time ending!!! I do love the presentation of Casper and Nova, how it was revealed it wasn't Simon Petrikov but the little Fionna and Cake fan who was able to write the story that finally got through to him and made him realise he needed to stop holding betty back.

"You were a good experience, Simon. Goodbye."

Mistakes were Made

These are the endings that fumbled, disappointed people. They still have value in them but theyre largely disliked by the fanbases involved. I'll explain a bit of why.

1, Arcane: This one just ended last night and is the reason I'm making this post.

I explained a bit here and here, but the issue is: Arcane's a much better show than it has any right to be. It's a league of legends cartoon. But season 1 is so heavy hitting, a tight ship from start to end focusing on the dramas of Vi, Jinx, and the people around them. The main weakness of season 1 was Jayce, Viktor, and Mel. It would distract from the main story in order to focus on them, but wouldn't spend enough time making them compelling characters. Season 2 has this issue tenfold where it seems the scope of the season was so big that it had very limited time to have those amazing scenes from season 1. And there certainly some heavy hitters, like Ekko save-scumming his conversation with Jinx to find a way to stop her killing herself, or Caitlyn and Mel's battle with Ambessa, or Jayce and Viktor yetting themselves into arcane oblivion, but... the finale itself seems very disconnected from the rest of the series, having a generic big bad in Possessed Chaos God Viktor. It lacks any of the intrigue of the Piltover vs Zaun conflict that was so important from s1e1 all the way to s2e4, after which it was promptly discarded in favour of other distractions. And as a result, Jinx and Vi are left as side characters in the ending of their own series, with a lot of their internal struggles left behind. Instead of the tragedy of season 1's ending, we are left thinking of the tragedy of how much better the ending could've been if they had just one more season to give these characters justice.

The strongest episode of the season is probably episode 6. If you know, you know.

2. Ducktales: So if you were a casual viewer of Ducktales you probably had no issues with this one. It's a competent TV finale where stuff happens and all the characters get involved and there are emotional themes.

What's weird about this one, and why it's so far down, is because of Webby's role. Webby is a misfit because she's not a member of the Scrooge family. She's a wannabe. She wants to be part of them, part of the siblings, and she has more in common with Scrooge and Della's brilliance than the other three, but she will never have that blood relationship. Her own parents are dead too, so she has feelings about watching the triplets reunite with their mother.

But in season 3... Ot's like the Ducktales writers were told they only had one episode left to work with and just made something up, and what they decided to do was take the "found family" trope and say "actually it was real family the whole time because Webby was Scrooge's secret clone daughter".

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The show did such a good job before this point showing Webby's development as she gets loved and accepted into the family. But for her to have always secretly had that blood relationship undercuts it fully.

It also undercuts her relationship to her grandmother, who tries to move out of the picture as soon as the truth comes out. The show does have Webby embracing her gran to show theyre still family. But we already had this story told in a better way with Webby and Scrooge and the triplets.

The fact the finale has nothing to do with the rest of the season is also why it's so far down. The season 2 finale was pretty spectacular by comparison and had compelling scenes like Della freaking out over protecting her kids and "running to the moon" with them, recycling her trauma (yes a ducktales character has trauma).

If you're not bothered by it, it's an inoffensive, fun finale. But more obsessive Ducktales fans and Webby fans were quite upset, myself included.

3. Kipo and the age of Wonderbeasts

I can't remember much about how this show ended. Honestly that's part of the problem. The first season was far more intrigueing than anything that followed and the whole thing came out across 2020 and it was a forgettable experience despite Karen Fukuhara voicing the energetic Kipo.

What I do remember is being pissed off about some things. Like how a lot of the talking animals were turned into non-talking animals and that was how things ended for them, and no vaccine or anything was made. It pissed me off somehow? Please kipo fans tell me your feelings on this.

I also disliked the final villain. She's a lot like Kris from Scavenger's Reign but even more generic and disappointing.

I dunno, to me the finale represents the wasted potential of this show. How it takes place in a world that rivals Adventure Time's, but Netflix did away with it so quickly, releasing three entire seasons in one year and leaving it with a generic end.

The peak into everyone's futures is nice, but it's not intrigueing like with The Owl House or Adventure Time.

4. Steven Universe: What a hot mess of an ending that threw out so much potential for the wider Steven Universe world. The motivations of the main villains were narrowed down to "we have emotional problems". Steven Universe has a consistent issue where it has emotional scenes at the expense of characters and story.

But I rate this more highly than the SU Future ending, despite that one having perhaps more cohesive writing, because I felt that the SU end had some incredible scenes that carried the spirit of the show while SU Future constantly undermined the original series without providing enough value of its own.

In particular, the scene James Baxter animated of Steven and Steven. This was mind-blowing, it was the climax to the most important part of the story, the truth of Steven's identity and whether he was his own person.

In retrospect that scene brings more value to me than all the bad parts of SU... but SU had so many amazing characters. It's a tragedy that Steven was the only one of them that the show still loved by the end.

Hardest line:

She's GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!!!!

5. Amphibia: Season 3 was plagued by being worse than season 2. The opening episodes on Earth were kinda bad, just "Amphibia season 1 episodes but in a far more boring setting". I hated anything involving the secret agents.

The fact Kipo, Scavenger's Reign, and Amphibia all have corpo villains at the end, and the fact I didn't like any of those endings, shows to me that it's not a particularly great thing to add to a fantasy story.

The first sad part is "the magic is destroyed". A popular theme in Disney shows. Well, what happens here is Sasha, Anne, and Marcy lose their magic abilities, and they decide to stay on Earth and lose the ability to travel to Amphibia. It's not massively offensive but it's kind of played out and generic and it does the sad thing of separating the trio from their found family. What's controversial is the epilogue shows that Anne, Sasha, and Marcy stopped hanging out after the end. They just broke off from each other's lives, it was easy as that. It wasn't a lifelong friendship. They do reunite in the end but it's been like ten years. It undermines the emotional turmoil that was present across the whole show. What Matt Braly wanted to show is sometimes things happen. Despite how much you want to be best friends forever... you stop being close to people, you lose touch with them. But this isn't a story that makes much sense when the characters have been through so much together in a fantasy world. It's like Marcy's worst fears have come true, and while that's a point of growth for her, it's frustrating for the viewers who believed the endgame bonds between the characters were better than that.

[Edit: Other than that, a lot of characters weren't delivered in justice s3 with how they had been built up in season 2. Sasha is hardly present in season 3 and Marcy is genuinely not present at all, and when we watched it we really thought they were gonna do more with Marcy when she came back. Swim in that emotional trauma a little bit! But no she's fine even with her evil father figure gone. It could've been better, should've been because season 2 was so stellar.] And I wasn't a fan of how Anne was portrayed at the end. I don't like how these stories make their characters "grow up" in such a way that they come across as love-all hippies instead of having anything resembling their original personality. Where's her sass? Why is she so melancholic and only melancholic? But that's a personal problem I haven't seen many others talk about.

Other than that, it's a competent episode. But it's the ending to a weaker season compared to what came prior.

The cat in this drawing has been my discord icon since we watched it though.

What the Hell?

These are the endings that shat the bed. I hate them! Everyone else probably does too.

Steven Universe Future: Unlike the other endings of this section, I did feel like Rebecca Sugar was going somewhere with SU future. They had a specific goal in mind for what they wanted to do, and every episode reaches towards that goal in some way. That's why a lot of people think Steven Universe Future is better than the more disjointed, huge tv series that came prior. It had a set start middle and end and carried through those themes. Unfortunately, those themes suck. Yeah, it's great deconstructing the impact Steven Universe had on Steven as a character, showing the damage that was done to him, the ways he's been let down. In isolation, it's a great way to show how a difficult childhood can affect you in adulthood, in ways that you would have never expected. This is the value SU Future has. It also has good sections showing how some other characters have recovered, how Pearl for example is healing and far more social than she ever has been but still has a ways to go, and finally talks to someone about her feelings over Pink Diamond, the previous Pearl that served her. Volleyball is a great episode. Unfortunately it takes the wrong lessons from the mistakes of the show. Steven Universe really wanted us to fall in love with its many characters, but it spent so much time showing Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl's flaws, spent so much time showing them failing Steven, that they ultimately came across as incompetent and sidelined. This is an issue with the original show. Steven Universe Future: "You know what? You're right! That was bad!" Me: "So are you going to do those characters justice and show them having growth and being competent and caring for Steven?" Steven Universe Future: "No. We are going to show them BEING EVEN WORSE and COMPLETELY FAILING to connect with Steven!" Me: "... For the entire thing????" Steven Universe Future: "Yes. this is never fixed and Steven leaves the county because of it." Me: "What the fuck?" Even people who were really into the whole thing were taken aback that Steven's kaiju transformation, the manifestation of his deepest fears about himself, was resolved with a hug. Just like the major conflict in the original show. And instead of a meaningful denouement, the show skipped all the resolution and went to Steven running the fuck away in an episode that would've had equal emotional value if it was in season 1 episode 1, or a competely different series. It was cheap and easy to make a bittersweet ending of Steven leaving the city. And it made it feel like the tragedy of Steven's mental breakdown was more important than his healing. Like they couldn't make an interesting story of him getting better because they're incompetent writers. I did like the scene of Steven crying his eyes out after he detransformed. And a lot of scenes in Future did go hard. But the Crystal Gems deserved better. Hell, Jasper deserved better.

Hardest scene:

2. Star vs the forces of Evil: Hooo boy. In the animation community this is HERALDED as The Worst Ending. It is the flagship of disappointment.

It disappointed people who loved the magical world the show took place in. It disappointed people who wanted to see Star reach her potential. It disappointed every shipper of every ship, not that I ever cared for the romance dramas but they took a lot of screentime on the show to its detriment. It disappointed people who like to apply basic logic to the things they watch. What a disaster!

Okay so why is it so hated?

Well, Star had been on the decline for a while. It had a fantastic start to season 3, with a great big war for Mewnie where everyone had great character moments, Star died and came back to life and utterly annihilated the villain. Toffee was a great villain, by the way.

There had been a bit of romantic tension between Star and Marco and they both had crushes on each other but refused to ever admit it and Marco thought he was into some other girl, and Star let him go at the start of season 3 and started dating... her ex... this shitty guy called Tom... he's a good character but a terrible boyfriend who kind of suicide baits Star back into his life. And Star would become a terrible girlfriend. I dunno, people really thought that pairing would be endgame but it was clear to me it was just an artificial obstacle in the way of the inevitable Starco ship. Like Kelly. Who Marco dates for a whopping half an episode before they break up offscreen. Great?

Anyway the romance in this series is on the same tier as Korra, though it does try to build up its endgame pairing from the start.

But from season 3 onwards Marco felt more like a joke character. I don't know, they didn't treat him with much respect.

The thing that EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT with Star, oh god it's going to be the longest thing on this list, is Moon and Eclipsa and Mina and the atrocious decisions the characters made.

I'm going to bullet point it so it's vaguely readable:

Star's mother, Queen Moon, goes missing following the events of the start of s3 special.

Star learns that the throne was stolen from monster-fucker Eclipsa and wrongly given to her own family line so she gives the crown to Eclipsa, to great controversy. Eclipsa is a dark magic user who is 300 years old and she's pretty cool but the show takes a sharp turn from this point to being about a racial conflict - Monsters being discriminated against by Mewmans and how a lot of people want to keep it that way.

The council which was previously on the side of good really HATES this decisionn and is now portrayed as bad.

Conflict breaks out and people are against Eclipsa and her giant person-eating husband leading the kingdom.

People have their homes given back to the monsters that they were stolen from hundreds of years ago. It's a silly cartoon form of reparations but it is shown giving them hardship because they are made homeless. By the way nobody in history has been made homeless because of reparations.

These homeless or disgruntled mewmans find Moon, who has re-emerged and decided to stay away from the kingdom. They want their old queen back and side with her, and she thinks they need someone to represent them. She also hates Eclipsa for various reasons.

Moon decides the best way to deal with Eclipsa is to arm the biggest fascist monster-killing character in the world with an invincible undefeatable army of magic soldiers, and retake the kingdom and go to war against the side her own daughter is on.

Moon gets a surprised pikachu face when she realises she can't undo the spell she used to make this fascist evil super army.

Star decides the best way to resolve this is to delete all magic. Kill it. They go to the source of all magic and use a spell to kill everything there. Lots of reindeer die.

Then every magical thing in the universe gets deleted. Every single magic-born creature. The entire council is murdered. All of the creatures in Star's magic wand die. Countless portals to other worlds are closed down, meaning many of the characters can no longer go and see their friends anymore. This is directly shown, by the way - not just inferred.

Somehow, Ponyhead survives.

Then this is capped off by Marco and Star wanting to reunite... and in a scene that is supposed to be emotional, they cleave their universes together. Mewnie lands on top of Earth. Normal humans are screaming as they are chased around by giant creatures.

The story ends.

Yeah do I have to explain any more why this one was unpopular? It's the biggest fumble you can speak of.

My biggest issue is how dumb they had to make Moon in order to achieve this outcome.

But Starco is kind of cute, even if Marco wasn't half the character he used to be by the end.

3. Homestuck: Which ending do you want me to discuss? Act 6? The epilogues? Or HS^2?

Let's start with the main work, as that's what makes Homestuck qualify as an animation.

Act 6 was a vast disappointment because it sort of ended. We had so much talking for so long that we were hoping something cool would happen and then we got a flash where the characters hit each other with sticks. There were no stakes in Collide, not really.

Then we got the Frog flash. We watched a frog for 8 minutes.

Then that was it!

There were so many unanswered questions. What the hell happened to the final boss and the MAIN CAST, for example. We had learnt earlier in the story that in some point of the future, the main cast all get stuck in a little homestuck house which Vriska fires at Lord English. But we never learn when, we never learn if they're ok, we never learn if English is killed or what happens to Vriska. So for a long time there was this disturbing implication that the cast would all die not long after the series ended.

We had the Credits which were much better but further solidified this implication, and it had Terezi fly out into the void looking for Vriska forever, which made me sad and depressed but that was because of my personal involvement in the story really.

Act 6 is more of a "mistakes were made" ending, but it's the Epilogues and HS^2, and the actions of creator Andrew Hussie, which are why it's rock bottom here.

I don't want to give my breath to those items. Let's just say they were the most meanspirited, intentionally offensive, hostile, character-destroying sets of stories every done, created by people who accused every homestuck fan who didn't like them of being "not really trans" or "pedophile harborors" or "deserving to be lined up and shot" (real quote).

And then the fact Hussie fired his entire crew twice and blacklisted them if he ever had any suspicion they complained about his leadership or financial decisions anywhere.

And the fact the entire whatpumpkin team were left uncredited in the original release of Hiveswap Act 2 because Hussie didn't want to give them any credit because he wants his friends to be a hivemind.

I have so much hatred for what Homestuck became. It's tragic because this series was such a big part of my life for so long.

It's also tragic because the main work is a masterpiece. Even Act 7, despite the criticism, is Guzusuru's masterwork with how much effort went into the animation. How much heart went into each illustration the old Paradox Space team made.

So that's it. Homestuck is the one that is not just a little bit worse than Star. Leaps and bounds worse.

But that's it. I have a lot of opinions on endings because they can colour how you view the entire previous work.