#because they don’t have object permanence

[sepublic]

I think there’s a lot of implications to Evelyn that people ignore in favor of making her into their white everyman’s Manic Pixie Dream Girl instead of like, an actual character with motives who came to the human world for a reason.

There’s the very obvious implication that she made the archway in Gravesfield??? The one that uses Titan’s Blood to open a temporary portal each time? And there’s another archway located by her house; I dunno if Evelyn made it herself, or if she had parents who were just never shown because they’re not too important to the story.

Evelyn obviously would’ve been a child when she visited Gravesfield as well, because there’s no way the writers would have her romance with Caleb begin if only one of them was a minor. So that points to her being a kid prodigy, which is something you can see in her descendants Eda and Lilith (Yes, Lilith as well; She’s very skilled herself and even figured out Glyph combos, it’s just that she’s being compared to Eda constantly and let her inferiority complex downplay herself).

But how did Evelyn even get to the human realm in the first place if the other archway hadn’t been built? Did she just magically connect hers to a pre-existing human archway?

We know Eclipse Lake exists, it’s how Philip entered the Boiling Isles, and others in the Demon Realm knew of it. Plenty of witches speculated on how a permanent portal to and from the human realm worked; So interdimensional travel was already a field that wild witches in the Deadwardian Era were interested in.

Portals in this show are two-way, so Evelyn must’ve entered Eclipse Lake, emerged somewhere in what would be known in the present as the Connecticut area, and then wandered until she came across some humans… And alas, she came across some of the worst humans to ever exist, RIP.

She made Flapjack, and Palismen you create don’t awaken until you state your wish. If Flapjack resonated with Hunter for sharing Caleb’s wish, then he must’ve resonated with Caleb for sharing Evelyn’s wish; To decide her own future. Flapjack himself is introduced trying to leave and go places, despite people telling him to stay put.

Caleb is someone for whom that wish came in leaving his ‘home’ in Gravesfield, he’d already moved there from someplace else prior! When Evelyn is established to be someone skilled in interdimensional travel, is there not an obvious connection to be made between this and her shared dynamic in Caleb, and the Palisman who resonated with both?

Did Evelyn live with her parents? Was she by herself as a kid? When a teenage Eda runs to the human realm to escape her complicated relationship with her parents, is it the same as her ancestor? The Boiling Isles was never perfect (but the coven system was an objective downgrade), and Dana even mentioned it herself at one point. Its people are just as humans as humans, and so just as capable of being messy and flawed and even cruel. The Coven Heads were willing to fuse their realm with ours under the expectation they'd be treated like royalty for it.

Like Gus, did Evelyn find human detritus and become interested this way? Like Luz, did Evelyn hope she could escape her problems in one world by finding another? I wonder what magic Evelyn liked? Probably stuff to do with portals (Eda uses them in the first episode), teleportation, warping space, etc.

With all this in mind, with Evelyn already being established as someone who can create portal devices, Philip’s tendency to plagiarize and take credit, his inability to make a second portal without using the first one as a base, and the portal itself being found right by Evelyn’s home and archway…

What if Evelyn made the portal, with Caleb’s help. It does change the context of these notes in Philip’s journal, if they’re transcribed from those of Evelyn, a wild witch who revered the Titan and her way of life.

Evelyn went through Eclipse Lake, traveled until she found Gravesfield; Evelyn posed as a human and trusted Caleb after seeing how he and Flapjack got along. Evelyn built a working archway and when Gravesfield suspected a witch in their presence —possibly due to her experiments— they went on a hunt for her.

Evelyn revealed her identity to Caleb and Philip, and brought the former to her world, possibly as a test run or to celebrate its completion, before bringing him back to Gravesfield. Evelyn and Caleb would meet in secret for their own safety, communicating via rebuses, as Caleb stayed in Gravesfield until Philip was old enough to take care of himself, and/or even changed his mind and went along!

But he didn’t, and if Philip tried to do something about the archway, Evelyn still had Eclipse Lake. She might’ve even made the Portal by this point and that’s how Philip has notes on it prior to reuniting with Caleb. So Caleb moved to her home (possibly after Evelyn showed up in his house using the Portal), and Philip eventually found the Eclipse Lake portal. But in those subsequent 5+ years, Evelyn used the Titan’s right eye to create a new portal, that would use a little bit of Titan’s Blood as a battery but not deplete it with each use.

Evelyn and Caleb programmed this portal to open in his childhood home where Caleb expected Philip to be, because he still hoped to have his brother with him and always had. Evelyn agreed to let this happen despite Philip clearly wanting her dead, even if he was not going to get Caleb implicated and killed to do so.

But Philip decided to cross that line, because at some point Evelyn and Caleb had a child, and knowing he was related to a mixed child pissed him off so bad. He pretended to be accepting, even as Evelyn and Caleb revealed a Portal and their plan to go back to him anyhow. Despite this, he attempted to murder Evelyn and/or Caleb anyway. Caleb died, and the Portal was damaged, but Evelyn chased off Philip. He eventually went back for Caleb’s body and stole it, and attempted to replicate the Portal that Evelyn and Caleb had showed off, believing he’d broken it beyond repair.

Evelyn decided she wanted nothing else to do with the human realm and buried the Portal; Maybe she left the option for anyone else who was still interested. Which gets me to another point, that maybe Evelyn made a grave mistake in accessing the human world, but let’s be real the onus is always on those who act in bad faith, not someone who acted in good faith and had that taken advantage of. But in the long, long run, even longer than 400 years, past the ending of the series…

Gus is not the first, but he might be more successful than Evelyn, and succeed where she failed. He’s a witch who was also fascinated in the human world, and now he’s cultivating a Human-Demon Realm Exchange Program, so both worlds can get to know each other, so people from both worlds can find new places. Because Evelyn’s portal was reclaimed by her ancestor, who did need it after all; And it led to Luz finding the isles, to Vee finding Gravesfield.

Luz and Vee were also taken advantage of to commit genocide, but Luz helped stop it. She helped right a great wrong in freeing the Collector and giving the Titan’s son a friend; Evelyn was a wild witch, so she would’ve respected the Titan, and did use his right eye to create the Portal. During that time, the Titan was also able to peer into both the human and demon realms, though he wouldn’t have had much reason to care about the human realm for a while.

(And if the Archivists ever return; There’s a Collector who could be very helpful in resolving that threat, who was freed thanks to the butterfly effect of Evelyn’s actions.)

So in the long run, perhaps centuries after the show ends? Maybe Evelyn did good after all. There’s a lot our worlds could learn from each other, and perhaps healing magic would’ve helped someone like Manny; If not him, others down the line. Plant magic could also be very helpful. The Collector was able to create a second Portal to establish more permanent contact through Caleb’s old home, as Evelyn intended. Not to mention the work of her descendants she had from meeting Caleb! And Gus is helping more Calebs and Evelyns find homes, just as Evelyn helped Caleb, Luz, and Vee.

[rideroftherange]

American legal system ain’t perfect. But it ain’t as bad as the news tries to make it seem.

Another 40+ links she provided to news stories with more examples.

[sesamestreep]

I really feel like one of the best details in “A Scandal in Bohemia” that I never see people fixate on enough is that the story starts with Watson stopping in to see Holmes at Baker Street on a complete whim, because he happens to see that he’s home (and Watson is now married and living elsewhere). Like he doesn’t send word first, he’s not invited, he just shows up and surprises Holmes. Which is not that weird but then Holmes is like “oh good, I’ve got a case anyway, you might as well hang out!” which just makes it funnier when the King shows up and is like “I’d really rather speak to you alone, actually” and Watson tries to leave and Holmes is just like “anything you can say to me, you can say to my best friend John Watson, and if you ask him to leave, I would consider it a grave insult, you would be my enemy and I will not help you ever!!” And the king is like “…ok” and just moves on.

like, that is crazy behavior. Holmes is talking about how there’s probably lots of money in this case, and then almost turns away the client for…not knowing who the fuck Watson is?? He’s not even supposed to be there?? He just came to say hi?? “It is both or none”… girl, GET UP.

[tennessoui]

Can I just ask, road trip au and like saints, like monsters weren’t on the wips list. Are they sort of categorised as something to get to in the distant future or abandoned?

I would say think of that list as less of a work of my only wips and more of a list of the projects I currently have the bandwidth for, with the addendum that I turn back to older wips all the time when I get the urge — it’s sooooooo easy for me to open a Google doc but sooooo hard to put words there

[heyclickadee]

Every time I think that I need to ask my roommates if they could please use headphones instead of speakerphone it’s in circumstances where I should absolutely not tell them, because I will be a bitch about it, and they don’t deserve that.

[keow]

Women hold so much power spiritually and metaphysically… And the entirety of human history is men trying so hard to cope with that by ignoring it

[bitchlessdino]

Pledis? More like PLEADING FOR CHAN TO MAKE AN UPDATE TO HIS INSTGRAM ALREADY

[thatsapphicsoprano]

who knew that traumatic events and the emotions that arise from them continue to stay in your body even if you’re not *actively* thinking about it at all times??? That your body remembers and stores all of that pain and grief and frustration and trauma and manifests in all of her aspects of your life without you realizing it, even if your brain forgets because of your adhd???

[kavehater]

Truthfully it would be easier if I just isolate myself from everyone simply because after so long of just shoving things down and being told to shove things down and being told to get over it and stop being sensitive I’ve become so much more sensitive after being so unfeeling and it’s ruining everything

Not even having aventurine could fix this 😔🙏 LOLLL

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Did you know that if you were away for a couple weekends one month, even though your trash isn’t as full as it would normally be, it will still get as stinky? Apparently I forgot about that fact. Trash still gets old even though your brain registers the days away from your place as different time. Object permanence exists and it is stinky

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: I Choose You

Request: Anonymous said: "jealous tyler or jealous reader would be interesting to read 👀"

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none!

A/N: not sure how i feel about this one but I gave it a go and wanted to make sure I posted!

Tyler tells himself that he’s over thinking… maybe even reading too much into things. 

But God, he swears he isn’t imagining the way that you and the reporter he’d agreed to let tag along for the next week naturally interact with one another with such ease. 

Tyler is not a jealous person– he’s confident and secure and he trusts you. Jealousy is petty and it’s stupid. And Tyler’s been trying his whole life to prove to himself and everyone around him that he’s not stupid.

Tyler has a loose shock to repair before the storm they’ve been tracking rolls in later that day. He’s currently laying on the dirt at the rest stop they’ve pulled in, with a wrench in his hand. Dani’s shining their flashlight for him, and it’s important he stays focused. And he tries… really, he does. 

But Tyler looks up just as the reporter laughs at a joke you’ve made. And then, he reaches out to touch your arm for the added effect. Tyler nearly drops the wrench he’s holding on his face at the sight. 

“Easy, T,” Dani says, studying him closely. 

He takes a deep breath before looking back towards the truck. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Dani asks, kicking his shoulder gently with their boot. 

“Nothing,” Tyler grumbles in a tone that screams there is absolutely something wrong. Thankfully Dani doesn’t push. 

…

Throughout the rest of the week, Tyler tries to talk himself down whenever jealousy rears its ugly head. He keeps telling himself that he’s being irrational– you’re not flirting with the reporter everytime you walk with him into the gas stations they stop at, or offer to ride with him in the van instead of Tyler’s truck, where you normally sit. You’re just trying to be friendly… make him feel at ease. 

But did he really have to look at you that way while you studied the GPS monitoring system? Or share his fucking cookies with you when everyone ate lunch in the field? And did you have to laugh so loudly at every single joke he made?

Tyler finds out on the second night he’s tagging along that Henry’s a fucking Columbia grad on top of a stupid self-proclaimed comedian. The two of you are sitting around the fire talking about graduate degrees when Henry turns towards him. 

“Did you two meet at school then?” Henry asks.  

Tyler smiles, but instead of warmth it’s laced with sarcasm. “Nope, I don’t have one of those fancy degrees, Henry. In fact, none of us but her do.” 

Henry turns back towards you and proceeds to ask more questions about your time studying meteorology at the U of A. Meanwhile, Tyler is left to simmer in his own self pity, wondering if it bothered you that he isn’t educated like Henry. 

Tyler has to spend the rest of the week fighting the urge to make it known you’re his– he’s had thoughts of keeping a permanent hand planted on your waist right in front of Henry. Maybe if he pulled you in for a kiss a little more often, and really claimed you as his, this guy would back the hell off. 

But Tyler quickly shakes away the thought. 

Because claiming you like an object is stupid, and Tyler is not stupid. 

…

Tyler grabs you a coffee from the nearest gas station and brings it back to the motel because he’s really trying to move past all this shit. You’re sitting with Lilly and fiddling with the drone when he tries to hand it to you. 

You offer him an appreciative smile that warms his entire chest. Tyler’s definitely been overreacting, because you’re looking at him with such love and admiration in your eyes. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already had some today,” you say, crushing every hope inside of him in an instant. “Why don’t you give it to Dani?  They take their coffee the same as I do.”

“When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, trying to play it cool. 

You reply so simply, like the words don’t slice right through his heart. “I didn’t, Henry brought me one.”

Tyler’s jaw tightens. It’s a gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on the drone half in your lap. 

What you do seem to notice, is the way he scoffs. It makes yours and Lilly’s heads both turn. 

But before you can reply, Tyler’s already walking away. He clutches the coffee firmly in his hand and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can outside the motel. 

…

Tyler has to remind himself that he’s not angry.

At least not at you.  

You and him have a great relationship. He trusts you and that’s all there is to it. Whether it’s Henry or whoever else–  you never gave Tyler a reason to be worried. 

But Tyler doesn’t like the way seeing you with the reporter makes him feel. Because at any moment, you could leave him for someone with a more respectable career– someone with fair skin and button up polos who just looked like they had their shit together. Someone with a college degree… someone a hell of a lot smarter than him. 

Seeing you with him made Tyler feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose– because he had everything to lose. 

…

The crew spends another week chasing in Oklahoma. The season’s winding down, but they still managed to catch two EF0s and an EF1. 

Tyler’s been avoiding you for most of the week. He’d offer the truck space to Boone and Lilly, he’d sit next to Dexter around the fire at night… hell, he would hardly even look at you. 

You turned down his coffee earlier in the week. Only after the fact did you realize that you should have just taken the damn thing. You understand that rejecting him after he went out of his way to do something nice for you hurt his feelings… But you can’t understand how that turned into an entire week of the silent treatment. 

On numerous instances, you try to approach him. But he always has somewhere to run off to. 

“I gotta help Dani with the van’s oil change.”

“I gotta see if Boone got the footage we need.”

“I gotta give Dexter a hand with the radar.”

You’re getting sick of it. 

You try to distract yourself for the rest of the week– you ask Lilly to explain more about how to work her drone, you keep on top of the radar– looking for forming storm cells, and you try to make the reporter Tyler had invited along for the week feel welcome. 

Henry’s nice– he’s completely new to storm chasing and has loads of questions all the time. You find it slightly annoying that he’s so interested in Tyler… but you get it. And even though you’re a little irritated with Tyler for your week-long silent-treatment sentence, you still want him to sound as good as possible in the article, so you talk him up every chance you can. 

You know that this lack of communication can’t last. And the second Henry goes back to Boston to write his piece, you plan to corner Tyler and force him into telling you what the hell you’d done wrong. But until then, you don’t want to cause a scene. So, you sit back, spend more time talking with Henry about Tyler, and try like hell not to lose your mind.

…

It’s more for his own sanity than anything. It’s like seeing you with Henry has caused this sudden realization to pop into his head… You can do better– and honestly you deserve better than him. The thought is all consuming. It makes focusing on anything else incredibly difficult. 

“You gonna tell us what the hell is up?” Lilly asks one day. 

Tyler’s currently standing in the bed of his truck, tinkering things that didn’t really need to be fixed just to stay busy. 

“What do you mean?” he replies without looking up.

“I mean are you going to tell us why you two love birds haven’t spoken in like three days?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler notices Boone glancing his way with an expression on his face that says he was wondering the same thing. 

“We’ve spoken,” Tyler says dismissively. 

“Telling her you don’t have room for her in the truck doesn’t count,” Lilly retorts. “C’mon, seriously, Ty. What’s wrong?”

Tyler sets his tool down and looks down at Lilly. “Nothing is wrong.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well are you sure she knows that? Cause Dani and I saw her crying in the bathroom.” 

Tyler lets out a long exhale– the thought of you upset instantly filling his insides with sorrow. But the thought that he was the one to make you upset is even worse. 

“I know it’s not my business,” Lilly adds. “But I’ve been watching you give her the silent treatment all week, and that’s not going to fix anything. I know Henry’s still here and it’s been a crazy week–”

Tyler can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips at the mention of Henry’s name.

Lilly pauses before a look of understanding washes over her. “You’re pissed that she’s been hanging with Henry.” She says it as a statement instead of a question. 

“I’m not–”

“I’ve known you for six years, don’t even try to deny it. You are– you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

With his lips pursed in a thin line, Tyler raises an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I am. Does that make you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Now it was Lilly’s turn to scoff. “Of course it doesn’t make me happy. You’re being an idiot.”

“What?” 

“I said that you’re being an idiot,” Lilly says, annunciating each word insultingly. 

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “I’m well aware that I’m an idiot, but thanks for reminding me.”

“I said you’re being an idiot, Tyler. Not that you are one. Now stop sulking and fucking listen for once in your goddamn life.”

It’s so out of the ordinary for Lilly to snap that Tyler actually does shut his mouth. 

“You invite a reporter on the road with us and then you don’t give him the time of day to answer any of the questions he has. You’re short and curt and to be honest, kind of fucking rude anytime he asks you anything. Y/N is being polite– and she’s hosting the guest you invited along. So don’t fucking blame her just because you’re insecure.” 

Tyler can feel the anger rising in his own chest, he wants to get defensive– to snap back at Lilly. But deep down, he knows she’s right, so he stifles any comebacks and instead hangs his head. 

Lilly sighs. “You’re not an idiot, Tyler. So stop acting like one.”

…

After letting Lilly’s words really sink in, Tyler decides that she’s right. For the first time all week, he’s motivated to actually talk with you and make things right. 

Or at least he is right until he sees Henry approaching you in the parking lot. He’s too far away to hear what Henry has to say. But he’s not so far away that he doesn't see the folded up piece of paper that he passes you. 

In an instant, everything Lilly had said– along with all the things he’s said to convince himself he’s been overreacting flies away with the wind. Because Henry just gave you his fucking phone number. 

Tyler turns– needing to get as much space from whatever exchange he just witnessed as he possibly can. In a few, long, angry strides, Tyler reaches his truck and climbs inside. In the distance, he hears Lilly call after him. But he pretends he doesn’t hear. Instead, he slams the door shut, starts the ignition and drives away. 

…

“Where’s he goin’?” Boone says just as you approach him and the rest of the crew. 

“Dunno. He didn’t say anything to you?” Dani asks, turning towards Lilly. 

She shakes her head, eyes squinting against the bright sun. 

“What the hell is his problem?” you say frustratedly, biting back tears. 

Stupidly, you’d let yourself get your hopes up earlier in the day when Tyler had offered you a small smile over breakfast. You had thought that maybe things were alright, and that he was finally over whatever had been bothering him so badly. 

But now you’re standing in the cloud of dust he just left behind after taking off in his truck without a word to anyone and you know that isn’t the case. 

“Here I was thinking I helped last night,” Lilly says under her breath. 

You snap your head in her direction. “You talked to him?”

She shrugs. “I tried to.” 

“Did he say why he’s been so upset?”

Lilly hesitates. And truthfully, you understand why. Everyone here was Tyler’s friend first. You were the last to join the crew– inducted into the group just by being Tyler’s girlfriend. They have no obligation to be loyal to you over Tyler. 

“Forget it,” you say defeatedly, turning away as soon as you feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. “It doesn’t even matter.” With that, you make your way towards the RV, painfully aware of everyone’s eyes trained on you the entire way. 

…

Tyler drives to the nearest gas station, desperate for space to clear his head. 

He knows he’s being dramatic and irrational at this point, but if he stayed at that rest stop another second, he didn’t know what would come out of his mouth. He really really had to get it together. But he can’t escape the fear inside of him– the one saying that meeting Henry helped you recognize that you could do so much better than him.

And now you had his phone number, to reach out whenever that realization hit. 

Why wouldn’t you be interested in Henry? He’s got a goddamn master’s degree from Columbia, he writes articles for the Globe, works out every morning before they go chasing–  apparently makes hilarious jokes… 

Tyler rests his forehead against the steering wheel and groans.

…

Tyler’s gone for an hour. But when he finally parks the truck back at the rest stop, he hasn’t shaken the sinking feeling inside of him. 

In a preemptive attempt to avoid questions he had snagged a bunch of snacks from the nearest gas station. If you ask where he’s been, he can just say he had a hankering for potato chips and call it good. 

Except, you don’t even look at him when he gets out of the truck. Boone’s got corn hole set up in the dirt. It looks like Boone and Henry versus Dani and Dexter while you watch. He only watches for a moment before bringing the bag of snacks into the RV. 

Secretly, Tyler’s been simultaneously excited for and dreading the end of the week. He’s excited for Henry to leave and excited to sleep in his own bed. But he’s dreading being back in your shared house. It’ll be the first time the two of you are forced to be alone, and he knows he’ll have to find the words to describe what he’s been feeling. 

But apparently Tyler’s stupid, because he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. 

All he knows is that he doesn’t want to lose you. And seeing you with Henry makes him feel like he’s about to lose you. Tyler doesn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.  

…

You don’t want to cause a scene at the rest stop. But the minute you see Tyler head for the RV, you’re out of your seat and beelining it towards him while the rest of the team is distracted.

As soon as you hoist open the door, you find him hunched over the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. 

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge of tears. But you can’t help it– Tyler’s silent treatment has just about pushed you to the edge. 

Tyler whips around at the sound of your entrance… and maybe it was a little dramatic– but you need to get your point across. 

There’s a long pause while Tyler’s eyes study you. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by more silence.  

“This is ridiculous, Tyler. Will you just talk to me?”

Finally, Tyler scoffs, “The reporter gave you his number, right?  Why don’t you talk to him?  I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you. But it isn’t overshadowed by the anger you feel. 

“Are you serious right now? You’re jealous of Henry?”

He shuts the fridge before cracking open his water bottle dismissively, ignoring your questions. 

“Tyler, are you forgetting that you’re the one who invited him with us this week? I mean, did you think he was just supposed to sit back and observe? He’s a reporter, of course he’s going to have questions… Questions that you were way more qualified to answer, but you were too busy being a jerk all week to answer any of them. So I did it for you–”

“I never asked for you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to– I did it for you!” you cry. “I did it so that he’d write you a good story– because you deserve that.” 

“Oh, how convenient. So you two just get along so well for my sake then?” he says. 

You exhale sharply. “Are you kidding me right now? We’ve spent the last week talking about you! I’ve been talking you up– telling him stories about what you do– how good you are at what you do– all the people you’ve helped–”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Yeah right,” he scoffs. 

You pause, anger slowly melting away at the realization that he genuinely didn’t believe anything you were saying. 

“Tyler,” you say seriously. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Henry. I’ve been answering his questions and telling him how fucking brave and generous and smart you are–”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps, voice cracking just slightly. “Just forget it, it doesn’t matter.” He sets his water bottle on the counter before moving to step by you. 

“Tyler stop–” you say, reaching for him. But he’s too quick. He reaches the door before you’re able to stop him. 

“Will you please stop walking away from me!” you blurt out frustratedly, tears forming in your eyes. “You’ve been running from me all week– I just… I just want to talk about this. Please–”

Tyler doesn’t turn to face you, but to your relief, he stops before opening the door. 

“There is nothing happening between me and Henry, Tyler. I mean, I promise you, absolutely nothing– I… I don’t know how else to convince you. But there’s nothing going on. I’m not into Henry–”

“I know,” he says quickly, eyes squeezing shut. 

You let your mouth fall open, confusion washing over you. “What?” 

“I know there’s nothing happening between you and Henry– I trust you and I believe you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “So why are you so mad at me?”

Tyler pauses and bites his lip before saying, “I’m not mad at you–” he tries to explain. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I don’t understand why–”

You sigh. “Tyler, you’re not making any sense–”

Tyler’s face twists in anguish. “Why aren’t you into him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s everything I’m not. And I mean– Seeing you with him– it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,”  Tyler says desperately, the pain almost palpable in his voice. “He’s got the fancy degree– he’s obviously smart–”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Tyler was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place. “Tyler, you’re smart–”

“I didn’t go to Columbia. I didn’t even finish my first year of undergrad.”

“I don’t care about any of that– you know I don’t–”

“Why?” he blurts out harshly, finally turning to look at you. “Why do you even want me when you can have someone like him?”

Tyler didn’t think he was good enough for you– and that admission broke your fucking heart. In an instant, all the reasons you loved Tyler flow through your head. There’s so many, you can’t even keep up. 

So instead, you reach into your pocket and pull out the note Henry had given you just hours earlier– the one Tyler apparently saw him give you. He watches as you unfold the piece of paper, quickly revealing that it’s not a phone number. 

“It’s his mom’s cookie recipe,” you explain. “The ones you refused to try. I talked to him about how you have a sweet tooth, and I said how much you love chocolate chip cookies, so he wrote it down for me. I thought I might be able to make them for you when we got home. Because I love you– and I love doing things that will make you happy. Because that’s what you do for me– you make me happy. All the time, just by existing.”

You watch as the realization washes over him.  

You sigh. “Did you ever stop and think about how I feel the same about you?”

He pauses before looking at you questioningly. 

“I mean, you’re you,” you say, gesturing towards him. “People adore you, Tyler. And rightfully so– but I’m always worried you’ll find someone better. But I don’t get hung up on it, because I trust you. I trust that you mean it when you tell me you love me and you choose me. And I need you to do the same for me, Tyler. I need you to trust me. Because I love you– and I always will.”

Tyler exhales, his eyes watery. 

“Can you do that?” you plead. 

To your relief, after a moment, he nods. 

You don’t hesitate before closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his middle. You lay your head on his chest just as his arms wind around your shoulders in an attempt to make up for all the hugs you’ve missed out on this week. Because as much as you love chasing in Oklahoma or Texas, your absolute favorite place to be is at home in his arms. 

“Cookie recipe, huh?” he muses above you, chin resting on top of your heads. 

You nod. “I’m a horrible baker, but I was going to give it a shot.”

Tyler tightens his grip around you. “Well horrible baker or not, I love you and I choose you.”

You let your eyes fall shut and inhale the familiar, comforting scent of him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” you say honestly. 

[sinisterintuition]

.

(tw self destructive behavior)

[woniedarlin]

Business Proposal: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You don’t know what to begin with Yang Jungwon. He is your co-worker in a company you are in and you despise that cat-looking man. And he despises you. It’s been going on ever since the beginning. You swear you had enough of him. But it seems like the world is not on your side because as much as you respect the Ceo, you just want to leave the company almost immediately. Why? Because he decided to partner you up with Jungwon on a project together. This seems like a recipe for disaster. Oh goodness… what to do…what to do...

genre: Enemies/ Co-workers to lovers, forced proximity, angst, fluff

warnings: suggestive (mdni) WHOLE LOT OF ARGUING, BULLYING, CUSSING, AND GOSSIPING, You just hate each other honestly, Mentions of crying, strangling. Let me know if there is more!

note: Thank you to 🦋 anonie for requesting this!! I’m really sorry that it took me a lot of time to make this. It was a great idea and I’m just a sucker for this trope 🙈. I deeply apologize if it wasn’t on your expectations and I’ll do my best to keep improving. I had fun making this and I appreciate your patience. Happy reading darlingss!!

permanent taglist: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

Caution: I’M SURE YA’LL WILL BE GIGGLING AND SQUEALING IN THIS DHWHBXJWHS WRITING THIS WAS SO OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE. Reading discretion is advised 😽

You and Jungwon have always been at each other’s throats ever since you both started working at the company. From your perspective, he’s arrogant and dismissive, constantly interrupting your ideas and making you feel undervalued. From Jungwon’s perspective, you’re overly controlling and unwilling to listen.

Your mutual disdain is well-known around the office. Despite your talents and contributions, your inability to see eye to eye has created a rift that seems impossible to bridge.

Today, you receive a message to report to the CEO’s office—or Mr. Jeon, as you and your colleagues call him. You feel both anxious and curious, wondering what this could be about. As you approach the office, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“What could this be about? I hope it’s not more bad news.”

You open the door to the CEO’s office and immediately see that shitface. No, not Mr. Jeon, but that bitch who's already seated, looking equally puzzled.

Jungwon’s eyes looked over to you as you entered the office. Both surprise and annoyance flash across his face, his lips pursing slightly.

“You too, huh?” he remarks, his voice tinged with irritation.

Mr. Jeon, who is sitting behind his desk, smiles at both of you. “Ah, you’re both here. Good. Have a seat, Y/n.” You sit in the chair beside Jungwon.

Mr. Jeon laces his fingers together, his gaze moving between you and Jungwon. “I’m sure both of you are wondering why I called you here today.”

Jungwon remains silent, but inside, he’s bracing for a reprimand. Meanwhile, you nod, genuinely curious about the reason behind the summoning. Is he tired of the constant fighting between you and that idiot?

“As you know, the company has been facing some challenges lately, and we’ve been looking for ways to streamline our operations and increase efficiency.” He leans forward, his eyes fixing on both of you. “That’s why we’ve decided to assign you two to work on a project together.”

“With all due respect, sir, we’ve had our…differences. Are you sure this is the best idea?” you say with disbelief. No offense, but is Mr. Jeon alright?

The CEO nods, clearly having anticipated this objection. “I understand your concerns, but allow me to explain. The project we have in mind will require both of your unique skill sets and perspectives. We believe that working together will not only make the project more successful but will also help the two of you learn to collaborate effectively.”

He looks at both you and Jungwon. “This is an opportunity to put aside your differences and focus on the task at hand. Can I count on both of you to give this your best shot?”

You glance at Jungwon with slight disgust, which he meets with a momentary glare before looking back at Mr. Jeon. There’s obvious hesitation in his eyes, but he eventually nods, knowing he has no other choice. “If that’s what the company needs, I’ll do my part.”

“And how about you, Y/n?” Mr. Jeon looks at you.

You look down, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t want to disappoint him, even if it means working alongside that cat-looking man. You look up and nod. “I’ll do my part as well.”

Mr. Jeon smiles, clearly pleased with your responses. “Excellent. I have every confidence that the two of you will make an outstanding team. I want daily updates on your progress. You’re to work closely together and keep me informed about anything that may arise.”

He stands up, signaling the end of the meeting. “That’s all for now. You’re both dismissed.”

You stand up, bowing slightly at Mr. Jeon before quickly walking away from his office, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Jungwon follows suit, falling in step behind you as you exit the CEO’s office. The silence between you is deafening, both of you still processing the fact that you’ve been thrown into this situation together.

You then glare at him, which he returns with equal intensity. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t my idea,” he says, his tone dripping with annoyance.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “Whatever.”

Jungwon huffs in frustration, his patience already wearing thin. “Can you just cut the attitude for a second? We’re stuck working together, whether we like it or not. So can we just find a way to make this bearable?”

He then adds, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “We need to set some ground rules if this is going to work.”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips curling into a slight sneer. “Fine. What do you propose?”

Jungwon crosses his arms over his chest as if to mimic you. “For starters, no more eye rolls or backhanded comments every time something doesn’t go your way. We’re adults, not teenagers.”

“And two, we need to be open to each other’s ideas. That means no shutting down suggestions without hearing the other person out.”

Hearing that makes you snicker. “You always shut down my ideas.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the accusation. “That’s not true. I just think your ideas are unrealistic and impractical, that’s all. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. It’s not all about you.”

You take a step closer to him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Maybe if you listened, you’d see the potential instead of dismissing everything outright,” you say with a sarcastic tone.

He scoffs, his irritation growing with every word. “Oh, please. It’s not like your ideas are groundbreaking. They’re half-baked and lack any real substance. Why should I waste time listening to something that has no chance of working?”

You step even closer, eyes blazing with defiance. “Because sometimes taking risks and thinking outside the box is what leads to real innovation, something you clearly don’t understand.”

Jungwon’s voice lowers, his anger barely contained. “I understand plenty. Don’t assume you know more than I do. Your so-called ‘innovations’ are nothing more than pipe dreams. You need to learn to be more realistic and grounded in the world we live in.”

You raise your voice a little, practically spitting the words. “You know what? I’ll add another rule—if we’re going to work together, we need to communicate clearly.”

Jungwon lets out a humorless laugh. “You want communication? That’s rich coming from you. Any time I try to communicate with you, you immediately get defensive and start attacking. It’s impossible to have a rational conversation with you.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. “Maybe if you stopped being so condescending, I’d be more inclined to listen and have a rational conversation.”

Jungwon bristles visibly at being called condescending. “How am I supposed to talk to you when you’re so stubborn that you won’t listen to reason? You’re always convinced that you know best, even when you’re clearly wrong.”

You’re about to snap back when your co-worker, Dae, approaches the both of you. “I know you two have your disagreements, but some of us…well, all of us are focusing on our work, so you two need to stop,” he says gently.

Jungwon and you are both startled by Dae’s sudden appearance.

Jungwon sighs, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll keep it down.”

Dae smiles a little and mutters, “Thank you,” before walking back to his cubicle.

You exhale sharply, turning back to Jungwon. “Well, how are we supposed to do the project? Where?”

Jungwon glances around, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a place where we can work on the project without distractions. How about the empty meeting room on the third floor?”

You cross your arms, nodding slowly as if testing the idea. “Fine, we’ll do our project there.”

Jungwon nods, already mentally preparing himself to work closely with you. He’s begrudgingly accepting the reality that he’s going to have to spend a lot of time in your presence over the next few weeks. “Let’s head over there now so we can start getting things set up.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable clashes to come. “Lead the way,” you say, your voice with resignation.

👠

You follow Jungwon into the empty meeting room and take a seat across from him. The tension is evident as both of you sit in silence for a few moments, neither knowing how to break the ice.

Finally, Jungwon sighs and opens his laptop, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work. We need to come up with a plan for the project.”

You bring out your laptop, placing it on the table before opening it. The hum of the machines fills the room as you both start to settle into the task at hand.

Jungwon scrolls through a few documents on his screen before speaking again. “Here’s what I was thinking we could do… But first, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.” He looks at you, genuinely curious to hear your opinion, albeit begrudgingly.

You look at him, “Gladly. I think we should focus on an interactive online campaign that uses social media influencers to create buzz. It’s effective and has a wide reach.”

Jungwon considers your suggestion for a moment, his expression remaining neutral. “I disagree. I think a more traditional approach, like a series of high-profile events and trade shows, would give the product the prestige it needs. Face-to-face interactions create a stronger impact.”

You lean forward, your hands resting on the table. “Events are important, but they take time to organize and can be expensive. We need quick and impactful results.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow slightly as he counters your argument. “And social media campaigns can be hit or miss. We need something reliable and established.”

You groan frustration is evident in your voice. “Ugh, it’s only been minutes and we are already breaking our rules.”

Jungwon lets out a scoff. “You’re the one who started it by offering up your unrealistic ideas.”

You glare at him, your tone sharp. “And you’re the one who shot them down without even giving them a chance.”

Jungwon throws his hands up in frustration, rolling his eyes. “Because they wouldn’t work! You need to accept reality and stop living in your fantasyland!”

Taking a deep breath, you try to find a compromise. Arguing won’t get the project started, and you know you need to approach this with an open mind. “Fine. What if we combine both approaches? Start with a high-profile launch event to get the initial attention, and then follow up with an aggressive online campaign to maintain the momentum?”

Jungwon considers your suggestion for a moment, his irritation gradually giving way to contemplation. After a few seconds, he nods, begrudgingly accepting the compromise. “That… might just work. The event will generate buzz, and the online campaign will keep the momentum going. I can see your idea being viable in this context.”

You nod with a neutral expression, though a hint of satisfaction creeps into your eyes. “Glad to hear it.”

He lets out a sigh, his tone slightly more civil than before. “Alright, so we’ve agreed on the approach, at least in theory. Let’s start drafting the plans for both the event and the online campaign. We need to set timelines and assign responsibilities.”

You type a few notes into your laptop, feeling a tentative sense of progress. “Sounds good to me.”

👠

The weeks have been both of tension and resentful cooperation. The process has not been smooth sailing, with numerous disagreements and clashes between you and Jungwon. However, the progress of the project has kept both of you from completely succumbing to your differences. You’ve managed to finalize the plans for the event and the online campaign, although not without a few heated discussions.

As you review the progress the two of you have made, you can’t help but wonder how the project will turn out despite the constant clashes between you and Jungwon.

It’s very late at night, and it seems like it’s just the two of you left in the building. You close your laptop with a sigh. “Alright, we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

Jungwon yawns and rubs his eyes, exhaustion setting in. The hours of working non-stop and being in close proximity to you have taken their toll on him.

He glances at his watch, realizing how late it is. “Yeah, I guess that’s all we can get done tonight. We should both get some rest and pick this up fresh tomorrow.”

You look at him in quiet disgust. “You look like shit, by the way.”

He shoots you a withering glare, not appreciating the insult. He looks exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his usually meticulously styled hair now sticking up at odd angles. “Yeah, well, you don’t look so picture-perfect yourself.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to respond. He watches as you leave without another word. He runs a hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it. Despite his annoyance with you, he can’t help but notice that even late at night, you still manage to look composed and elegant. It irks him, adding to his already simmering resentment.

👠

The next day, you and Jungwon are taking a break near the empty meeting room. The atmosphere is tense as usual, and neither of you seem eager to break the silence.

Then you hear your colleagues Hwan and Jiho’s voices coming from around the corner.

“I can’t believe Mr. Jeon paired them up. They’re both such a mess. This project is doomed,” Jiho said.

Jungwon’s face tightens, his scowl deepening as he listens to the dismissive assessment. He has always prided himself on his capability and work ethic, and this kind of criticism stings.

He glances at you, noticing the flicker of discomfort in your eyes. You’re silent, but it’s clear that the comments have affected you as well.

Hwan adds, “I know, right? I don’t know what Mr. Jeon was thinking. Those two bicker more than they get any actual work done.”

As Hwan and Jiho continue their gossip, Jiho suddenly notices something over Hwan’s shoulder and widens his eyes. Hwan turned around to see...

One with very sharp eyes and the other whose expression are unreadable.

The air grows thick with tension as Hwan and Jiho fall silent, their faces flushing with embarrassment.

“You know, if you have something to say, you could at least say it to our faces,” Jungwon says, his voice cool but edged with irritation. His eyes lock onto theirs, clearly displeased with being the subject of their gossip.

Your expression remains deadpan as you add, “And if you have any doubts about our abilities, you’ll see the results soon enough. We’re not here to entertain your gossip.”

Jiho shifts nervously, stammering as they try to offer a weak apology. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you. I just... uh, I just heard people talking...”

Their voice trails off as they struggle to find a way to excuse their behavior. You roll your eyes, unimpressed.

“This is why Mr. Jeon never gave you two such an important task,” you say, your tone dripping with subtle disdain.

Both Hwan and Jiho blush furiously, their egos bruised by your comment. Hwan stutters awkwardly before blurting out, “That’s not true! I’ve done plenty of important projects before…”

Jungwon lets out a sarcastic huff, smirking. “Yeah, sure. Running errands and fetching coffee.”

Hwan’s face reddens further at Jungwon’s dismissive retort. He glances at you and then back at Jungwon, struggling to come up with a response but failing miserably.

The two men exchange nervous glances, clearly intimidated. They mumble apologetically, their heads ducked in embarrassment, before hastily retreating down the hallway.

"Looks like we scared them off," Jungwon says, glancing at you with a satisfied smirk.

You nod and return his gaze. "That felt good."

Jungwon snorts, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, it did. It’s about time someone put those gossip-hounds in their place."

He meets your eyes, his expression growing more serious. "But, honestly, I’m surprised we managed to agree on something for once."

You tilt your head, "That they’re pieces of shit?"

Jungwon laughs, genuinely and unexpectedly, as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, that part. At least we can agree on that."

He pauses, then adds, "Well, enough about them. I haven’t even finished eating my curry."

You nod, "Yeah, me neither."

Jungwon gestures towards the break room where he left his lunch. "Come on then, no point in letting our meals get cold while we stand around gossiping."

"We’re not gossiping. Those assholes are," you reply.

He grins, "Alright, maybe 'gossiping' isn’t the right word. Let’s call it 'expressing our dislike for annoying coworkers' instead."

"Definitely. Come on," you say, heading towards the break room.

He follows you into the break room, where his lunch waits on the table. Jungwon sits down and picks up his curry, giving it a quick stir with his spoon. "Hope you don’t mind me eating while we talk. I get cranky when I’m hungry."

You tease, "You still look like shit even if you do something."

Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoots you a mock glare. "Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll be sure to consider that constructive feedback."

👠

The project continues to slowly progress, albeit with the usual tension bubbling up here and there.

Despite the occasional setbacks and clashes, the two of you manage to find a sort of grudging respect for each other's skills and work ethic. It's not necessarily friendly respect, as you still find each other quite annoying. But there's an acknowledgment of the fact that the other isn't completely useless.

But today wasn’t your day.

You were struggling with menstruation but decided to come to work anyway, taking some pain relievers to get through the day. As you were picking up some items to bring to the meeting room, you overheard a familiar voice—Ara’s—gossiping about you. She dislikes you for being partners with Jungwon.

“She’s always so high and mighty, acting like she’s better than everyone else. This is why Jungwon hates her. Mr. Jeon should have partnered me with him. I just know the project would be done in no time.”

Usually, you would confront anyone talking badly about you, but today, the words cut deeper than usual, leaving you stunned and hurt.

Trying to compose yourself, you headed to the empty meeting room where Jungwon was typing away at his laptop. You kept your head down, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears forming in your eyes.

Jungwon glanced up from his laptop and immediately sensed something was off. He could tell you were fighting back tears and visibly upset.

He pushed away from the table and approached you.

“Who did this to you?”

‘’It’s nothing.’’ You wiped your tears and avoided his gaze.

He frowns, not buying your dismissive reply. He stops in front of you, forcing you to look at him. “It’s not nothing. You’re clearly upset about something. And if someone has hurt you, I need to know.”

There’s genuine concern in his voice. Despite your ongoing animosity, he can’t ignore the fact that you’re visibly distressed.

He watches as you struggle to find the words, his frown deepening. He reaches out, gently placing a hand on your cheek to tilt your head up. "Hey, look at me. Tell me what happened. Who made you cry like this? Was it Hwan? Or Jiho?"

‘’…It’s Ara…I overheard her..she said some things about me and reasons why you hated me.’’

He scowls at the mention of Ara's name, his expression darkening. He can easily picture her making such comments. She's been a source of tension and conflict within the office, constantly stirring up drama and gossip.

"And you believe her?" He said while caressing your cheek.

‘’Yeah?’’ You said while sniffing.

He shakes his head, clearly annoyed at both you and Ara. "Why would you believe the words of someone as petty and envious as her? You should know by now that her opinions are not worth the air they waste."

He continued, "You might be a headache and pain in the ass most of the time, but you're not conceited. You've worked hard to earn everything you have. You're talented and capable, and you know it. Don't let her convince you otherwise.”

He releases his hand from your cheek, “And next time you hear her talking about you, you tell me. I’ll deal with her before she spreads more of her bullshit around.”

He gently wipes your tears. “You know what? I’ll be right back.”

Jungwon left the meeting room and made his way to Ara’s cubicle, his eyes fixed on her with a steely glare. Ara’s face brightened at his approach.

“Oh, hi Jungwon. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Follow me,” he said, his sharp eyes making Ara frown slightly.

He shut the door behind them, ensuring privacy. Ara’s nervousness was felt.

“Jungwon, I-”

“Shut up.” He cut her off sharply. “I heard what you said about Y/n. Care to explain why you’re spreading lies about her?”

“I was just saying what others were thinking,” Ara stuttered, her eyes darting fearfully.

Jungwon scoffed, his patience wearing thin. “Bullshit. You’re just jealous because she’s more talented and ambitious than you.”

He continued, “And I’m warning you. If I hear you talking trash about her again, I’ll make sure you regret it. I can get you kicked out of here with just a word to Mr. Jeon.”

Ara swallowed nervously, clearly intimidated. “I-I’m sorry, Jungwon. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

Jungwon scowled, unsatisfied with her apology. “You’ll be apologizing to Y/n, too. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make damn sure it’s sincere. Now come with me, you’ll be apologizing to her. Now.”

He led her back to the meeting room where you were waiting. Jungwon gestured to Ara. “Go on. Say what you need to say.”

Ara approached you, her voice trembling. “Um, Y/n, I-I just wanted to say—”

She faltered under Jungwon’s glare. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I didn’t mean it.”

Jungwon watched the scene closely, his expression unreadable. Once Ara finished her apology, he released her. “You can go now.”

Ara nodded quickly, clearly relieved, and scurried out of the room. Jungwon turned to you.

“You didn’t have to,” you said softly, your voice tinged with residual emotion.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course, I had to. You just sat there and took her bullshit without defending yourself.”

His expression softened unexpectedly. “Why didn’t you say anything? You usually stand up for yourself.” You looked down, feeling embarrassed. He then continued, “No offense, but you’ve dealt with worse and come out stronger.”

Jungwon reached out and gently wiped a tear from your cheek. “So why did it affect you so much? Why did it make you cry?”

You closed your eyes, your voice barely a whisper. “I just… I feel sensitive today because…”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Because…?”

You hesitated before admitting, “I’m on my period.”

Jungwon blinked in surprise, then nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see. That would make sense.” He smirked, a playful glint in his eye. “Explains why you’re so emotional today.”

“But still, her words shouldn’t have gotten to you. You’re too talented and capable to let petty remarks affect you.”

You shook your head. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not the kind to sugarcoat things. You know that.”

He looked at you directly. “I’m serious. You’re a pain in the ass and a constant headache, but that’s because you’re ambitious and talented. Her words are just petty bullshit. Don’t let them get to you.”

He patted your hair gently, a surprisingly affectionate gesture. “And next time someone talks trash about you, tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

You were touched by his words and, despite your attempts to hold it together, started crying harder. Your shoulders shook as you tried to suppress your sobs.

Jungwon looked alarmed, clearly unsure how to handle your emotional outburst. He awkwardly patted your back. “Hey, calm down. You’re gonna give yourself a headache with all that crying. Take a deep breath.”

You managed to choke out between sniffles, “Why are you being so kind today?”

Jungwon looked taken aback by your question. “What do you mean? I’m always kind.”

“Bullshit,” you muttered, wiping your tears with the back of your hands.

He smirked at your bluntness. “Careful now. You’re the one crying your eyes out.”

His smirk softened slightly. “But seriously, stop crying. You’re making me get all emotional.”

“You too?” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jungwon scowled, though his tone was softer. “Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me all you want. You’re the one blubbering like a baby.”

You continued to sniffle and then let out a small, amused laugh. “I want to see you cry so I can take a picture and post it on Instagram.”

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Fat chance. I’m not crying just to satisfy your twisted sense of humor. Plus, I’d look even more handsome than you if I was crying, so you’d be jealous.”

You laughed a little more, feeling somewhat better. “You know what? We should get back to the project. Mr. Jeon might kick our asses.”

He shook his head, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You go from crying to work mode in no time. Damn, you’re back to being a pain in the ass.”

“First, do you have a napkin? I have a snot…” you said, holding up the empty tissue box.

He winced, clearly disgusted at your tear-stained, snot-filled face, but still reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pack of tissues. “Here. Clean yourself up already. You’re a mess.”

You took the tissue gratefully, wiping your nose. “Thank you. Let’s get back to work.”

He watched as you blew your nose and tried to compose yourself. “Yeah, the sooner we finish this, the sooner I’ll be rid of your snot-filled face.”

“It only happened today!” you protested.

He scoffed, a smug expression on his face. “Yeah, I know. I’m being extra generous today, dealing with your hormonal, leaky self.”

“Stop!” you said, swatting his arm.

He exaggeratedly winced, his hand on his arm. “Ouch! Watch it, I almost lost a limb.”

You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You moved to sit down at your desk, opening your laptop, with tissues at the side.

Jungwon settled next to you, opening his laptop. “Alright, time to get back to business. Let’s finish this project ASAP so I can get a break from your whining.”

👠

The two have been working closely and starting to get along better, but the stress of the approaching deadline and their differences lead to friction. They’ve been working late nights, and exhaustion is wearing on both of them, making tempers shorter.

They have a disagreement over a critical aspect of the project, such as the direction of the campaign. The argument escalates quickly, with both raising their voices, airing out frustrations not just about the project but also about each other’s working styles and personal issues.

“You’re always so stubborn, never willing to see anyone else’s perspective!” you shout at him, frustration boiling over.

He snaps back, his temper flaring up further. "And you're always so bossy, expecting everyone to follow your lead without question! You act like you're the only one who knows what's best. Maybe if you'd listen to other people for once, we wouldn’t be in this mess!"

“And maybe if you weren’t so stubborn and dismissive, we’d make progress instead of constantly arguing!” you retort, your voice rising.

He glares at you, his patience wearing thin. "Dismissive? I'm not the one who thinks they know everything. You're so set on dominating every decision that you can't even see when you're wrong."

He crosses his arms, a look of defiance on his face. "Maybe if you'd learn to compromise once in a while, we wouldn't be stuck in this damn cycle of arguing and getting nowhere!"

“Compromise works both ways, Jungwon. Maybe if you stopped acting like you always have the right answer, we’d actually find a solution that works for both of us!” you fire back, your eyes blazing with anger.

He scoffs, his defenses automatically going up even further. "You're one to talk! You’re just as guilty of stubbornly sticking to your position as I am. You never listen to anyone else’s perspectives, and then you get all defensive when someone challenges your ideas."

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated by the situation. "Maybe if you stopped being so confident in your infallibility, we’d actually be able to find a middle ground."

The argument reaches a peak, with both of you standing close, faces flushed with anger.

His eyes blaze with irritation as he glares at you, “You never give an inch, do you? It’s always your way or no way with you, isn’t it? You can’t even admit when you’re wrong.”

“You’re so quick to point fingers and place the blame, never considering that maybe, just maybe, you’re part of the problem too,” you say, your voice shaking with frustration.

As the words hang in the air, the tension between you becomes almost unbearable.

“Fuck this.”

He pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss is intense and passionate. “Shut up. Just shut up for a goddamn second,” he mutters in between kisses. His hands move to cradle your face, holding you tightly as he devours your lips.

The kiss breaks abruptly at the sound of the door opening. Jungwon steps back quickly, trying to act as if nothing had just happened, but his flushed face and the rapid rise and fall of his chest betray the intensity of the moment.

Dae raises an eyebrow at the scene before him, clearly having walked in on an interesting moment. “It’s getting late. I suggest you two go home and continue the project tomorrow.”

Jungwon shoots a sharp glare at Dae but forces himself to calm down. “Yeah, alright. We were about to leave anyway." He picks up his laptop and shoves it into his bag, his movements a bit rushed and restless.

You pack your things, your heart still racing from the kiss. Jungwon watches you, his gaze never leaving you. He feels different kinds of emotions—frustration, confusion, and a whole lot more.

After you finish packing, he clears his throat softly. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your car.” He leads the way out of the office, his footsteps a little faster than usual. As you walk side by side in silence, he steals glances at you from the corner of his eye, clearly still affected by the earlier kiss.

Finally, as you reach your car, he pauses and turns to face you. “Listen, about… that back there—” He trails off, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know why I did that. I just got so frustrated with that whole argument, and I guess I just... lost it. I’m sorry.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m sorry too.”

He lets out a deep exhale, his shoulders sagging slightly. “We need to find a way to work together without constantly arguing and… making things more complicated.”

He gives a light, self-deprecating chuckle. “Maybe we should start by not screaming at each other and then kissing each other senseless.”

You look up at him, trying to process everything. “Definitely,” you agree softly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips despite the tension.

He runs a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit you’ve noticed. “I… I just can’t figure you out sometimes, you know? One minute you’re driving me insane by being so stubborn, and the next you’re looking at me with those eyes, all innocent and… damn it.” He drags a hand over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body.

He continued. “And I can’t decide if I want to rip your clothes off or wring your neck. Hell, maybe both.”

You glare at him, surprised at his words. “Pervert!” you exclaim, pushing him back with a firm hand on his chest.

He laughs a low, gravelly sound. “I never claimed to be anything else. But admit it, you don’t exactly hate it.”

You keep your hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “Stop it,” you insist, your voice softer now, almost pleading.

He looks down at your hands on his chest, a small smirk forming. He lifts his own hands and covers yours with his, holding them against his chest. “Stop what? Saying what I’m thinking? I’ve never been good at hiding my thoughts, you should know that by now.”

You sigh, frustration evident in your voice. “I’m confused. Why the hell did you kiss me?”

“Because… I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I did it, or why it felt so good, or why I want to kiss you again right now. I just... can’t think straight around you sometimes. You make me feel all twisted up inside.” He pauses, his eyes searching your face for understanding.

“You drive me crazy in the most frustrating and arousing way possible. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Do you like me or what?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

He hesitates for just a moment, his expression torn. Then he gives a half-smile. “I… don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Yes. I definitely want you, that’s for sure.”

“But I’m also frustrated as hell by you, and confused as hell by you. It’s a complicated mix of emotions, I can tell you that.”

You shake your head, feeling just as confused. “You’re confused, I’m fucking confused, bro.”

He laughs a little at your outburst. “Well, at least we’re both confused. Great way to start a... whatever this would be.”

He continues, his tone softening. “You’re really cute when you cuss. It doesn’t fit your whole innocent angel persona you usually have going on.”

You raise your eyebrows, looking at him as if he was insane. “Innocent? You have seen me fight, right?”

He rolls his eyes, but his expression is lighthearted. “Yeah, I know you’re fierce. But you also give off this innocent, angelic vibe, with your long lashes and cute little pouts. It’s confusing as hell if you want me to be honest.”

“Well, whatever this is, you and I better finish the project. So we can have that goddamn paycheck,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to work.

“Yeah, you’re right. We can figure this other stuff out later, I guess.” He takes a small step back, creating a bit of space between you. “We’ll finish the project. Just… try not to drive me insane in the process, okay?”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” you ask, tilting your head.

He gives you an exasperated look. “How the hell should I know? Stop being so stubborn, maybe. Stop being so damn cute and looking at me like that. That’d be a good start.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you should stop being an asshole then,” you say, crossing your arms.

He laughs, shaking his head. “And there’s that sharp tongue that drives me insane. Can’t go two minutes without calling me an ass, can you?”

You groan, “Can’t you just let me go? I really have to go home.”

“Yeah, alright. I don’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep any longer.” He nods at you. “Have a good night. And don’t work too hard on the project tonight. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

You offer a small smile, feeling the tension ease slightly. “You bet,” you reply, then you open the car door and slide into the driver’s seat.

He watches as you get into your car, a small smile playing on his lips. As much as the two of you butted heads and drove each other crazy, he couldn’t deny the attraction that was slowly building between you.

“That woman honestly… my woman,” he mutters to himself as he walks away.

👠

You and Jungwon continued to work together, and with the project’s success, there was a sense of accomplishment that was hard to ignore. Despite all the tension, the team had pulled off something impressive.

He’s sitting at his desk, reviewing the project’s metrics, when he looks up and catches your eye from across the office. A half-smile quirks, and he gives a slight nod, acknowledging your shared accomplishment. For now, the project’s success took precedence over your differences.

He watches as you return his nod. The tension between you has lessened somewhat, an unspoken truce having formed as you both focus on the successful outcome of the project.

He looks back down at his computer screen, the numbers, and figures a welcome distraction from the thoughts of you that were still on his mind.

He wonders if the peace between you will last, or if things will return to the bickering and arguing once the high of success wears off.

👠

Mr. Jeon, has decided to celebrate in the company building to acknowledge the hard work and success of the project. The office is decorated, and a small party is in full swing. Colleagues are mingling, enjoying drinks and snacks, while music plays softly in the background.

Jungwon stands off to the side of the room, nursing a drink and watching the party unfold. His eyes occasionally scan the room, searching for the one person he both wants to see and dreads seeing - you.

When he finally spots you, he feels a jolt of something in his chest - a mix of attraction and irritation. You look as effortless and beautiful as ever.

Out of hesitation, he decides to approach you. He reaches your side, clearing his throat softly to get your attention. “Need a minute?”

You look up, meeting his gaze. “Of course.”

He leads you away from the noise and bustle of the party, finding a quieter spot in another office far away. Once there, he turns to face you. “First of all, I just wanted to say... that we did good. The project was a success, and we managed to put aside our differences for the sake of the company. I guess we actually make a halfway decent team.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I guess we do. It’s surprising how well we managed to pull it off despite all the arguing.”

He lets out a small chuckle, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Who would have thought, huh? The company’s most vocal enemies actually working together and pulling off something amazing.”

“But I guess I have to ask... how are we going to keep this truce up? You're still a headache, you know?”

You shrug, trying to keep the mood light. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we need to communicate better or add some ground rules.”

Jungwon's smile fades slightly, replaced by a look of frustration. “Damn it, you’re so frustrating. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here, and you just... never give a straight answer.”

You’re standing so close to each other that he has to tilt his head down slightly to maintain eye contact. “Do you have any idea how confusing you are? One minute I want to strangle you, and the next minute I want to—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, looking away. “Never mind, it doesn't matter.”

You’ve had enough of his mixed signals.

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “I’ve had enough. Do you like me or not? I can’t keep doing this if you’re just going to keep me guessing.”

He lets out a gruff laugh, shaking his head. “You’re always so straightforward, aren’t you? Can’t even give me a moment’s peace to figure out what I’m feeling.”

He looks back down at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, I… I think I do. Love you, I mean. I know it’s insane, and it’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever had, but I can’t seem to help it.”

A mixture of relief and joy floods through you. “I know because I love you too, asshole. It’s been driving me crazy, trying to figure out how you feel. But I need to know where we stand. Are we going to keep pretending like this isn’t happening?”

He's startled for a moment, not expecting your sudden admission. But as your lips meet him, he loses all self-control. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

You pull back slightly, breathless. “We can’t keep doing this. One minute we’re fighting, the next we’re kissing. We need to figure out what we really want.”

He nods, his forehead resting against yours. “I know. But right now, all I want is you.”

As the intensity of the moment takes over, he reaches for a hand behind him to lock the door.

👠

The next day,

Jungwon was walking down the hallway when he saw you. He immediately noticed something was off - you were walking a little slower than usual, and there was a slight limp in your steps.

He frowns, walking over to you with concern on his face. "Are you alright? You look like you're walking a little... stiffly."

You glare at him. "Your fault."

He raises an eyebrow at your accusation, his mind flashing back to the previous night’s... activities. He notes the slight flush still evident on your cheeks and the subtle limp in your gait. "Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to mind last night," he teases, tilting his head.

"Good thing no one caught us," you mutter, trying to keep your voice down.

He chuckles as he backs you into the wall behind you. "I’ll admit, you were pretty loud last night." He braces one hand against the wall beside your head, leaning in closer. "If someone had walked by, they definitely would have heard you. I might have had a hard time explaining… things."

"Let's say we were fighting," you suggest, rolling your eyes. "At least it’s a believable excuse."

He laughs, fully amused at the thought. "A fight? At 1 am? They would never believe that. Not with the sounds you were making. But for the record, I think it was worth the risk."

"Whatever. Come on," you grumble, embracing him for support as you start to walk. "I just hope I can make it through the day without collapsing."

"You know, we could always skip work and spend the day at my place. Give your legs some rest," he whispers to you.

"You think Mr. Jeon would allow us?" you ask skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "He's pretty strict about attendance, especially after big projects."

"Probably not. But I can be... persuasive when I want to be. If I tell him we need some time to discuss important project-related matters, he might just sign off on it." He squeezes your arm gently. "It’s only the responsible thing to do, after all."

"You do know that the project is finished, right? What project-related matters could we possibly discuss?" you remind him.

"I know. But we have to keep up appearances, don’t we? And who knows, we might find something... new to work on," he says with a playful grin. "And I can think of several things that need my immediate attention."

"I'm too sore, Jungwon!" you scold him, trying to keep your tone serious. "I can barely walk, let alone... do anything else."

"I bet you are. I might have gotten a little carried away last night." He pulls back slightly to look at your face, his expression softening. "We don’t have to do anything too strenuous, I promise. We can just relax, watch a movie, order some food."

"We did work really hard on that project. Maybe we do deserve a break," you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But what if Mr. Jeon finds out we’re just slacking off?"

He shrugs, a sly grin on his face. "Who cares what the CEO would allow? We’re both senior team members, and we’ve done a damn good job with the project. I’m sure we’ve earned a little break. And honestly, I’d much rather spend the day with you in my bed than stuck here in the office."

"Fine," you finally relent, unable to resist his charm. "But only because I really need a break."

A satisfied smile spreads across his face as you cave in. He reluctantly releases his hold on you. "Great. I’ll go talk to Mr. Jeon real quick, then we can get out of here."

He glances down at your legs, frowning slightly. "Can you even walk comfortably in those heels? You look like you’re about to fall over!"

"I gotta look hot, alright?" you retort, lifting your chin defiantly. "Can’t have everyone thinking I’m slacking off just because I’m sore."

He looks at you, taking in the tight pencil skirt and stiletto heels you’re wearing. He’s having a hard time disagreeing with your statement. "You look hot, alright, but you should’ve worn something more comfortable if you knew your legs would be this sore."

"I didn’t plan on being sore, genius. Just tell Mr. Jeon," you say, exasperated. "And hurry up. I don’t want to be standing here all day."

He rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. "Alright, alright. I’m going."

👠

Jungwon has his arm wrapped around your shoulders while lying on his bed as you both watch the movie. His fingers absently stroke your arm as he watches the screen.

He glances down at you, noticing how you look in his oversized t-shirt. There was something domestic and endearing about it that made him feel butterflies in his stomach.

He smiles, "You look better in my clothes than you do in your work clothes."

"You are kidding," you say, giving him a playful nudge. "Your clothes are so baggy on me. I look like I'm drowning in them."

He laughs and kisses the top of your head. "I'm serious. You should just start wearing my stuff and call it a day. It suits you better." He nuzzles his face into your hair. "And I have to admit, I like seeing you in my clothes and the way you smell like me."

You roll your eyes playfully. "You're just saying that because you like the idea of me being marked by you. Territorial much?"

He reaches over for a piece of food from the tray on the nightstand, holding it up to your lips. "Here, have some food. You must be hungry. Then maybe we can finish the movie and see if we can find something else to do."

You open your mouth, and he feeds you the food, watching as you chew, his eyes full of adoration. "Thanks. I was starving," you admit after swallowing. "This movie night idea was perfect."

Once you've swallowed, he sets the food aside and shifts on the bed. "You know, I never actually asked you out properly even though we already said 'I love you' to each other."

"I was waiting for you to say that," you reply, smiling up at him. "I mean, we've been acting like a couple, but I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to make it official."

He laughs again, but his eyes never leave your face. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Well, I guess I’m saying it now, huh? I still can’t believe we went from hating each other to this. It’s crazy."

"I know, right?" you say with a soft laugh. "I thought you were the most insufferable person I’ve ever met. But now, I can't imagine my life without you."

"I guess what they say is true. There’s a fine line between love and hate." Then he continued. "Although, I’m starting to think it was more of a ‘lust’ rather than a ‘love’ for a while there."

"Maybe," you say thoughtfully. "But I think there was always something more. We just didn't realize it."

"Well, now it’s definitely both. I think I went from ‘despising’ you to ‘desiring’ you to ‘loving’ you in record time." He said chuckling.

"Aren’t you gonna ask me out properly?" you say bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What, this isn’t formal enough? Maybe I should get on one knee and ask you properly then," he teases, pausing to look at you seriously. ‘’Alright..’’

"Will you officially be my girlfriend, even though we basically are already? Pretty please?"

"Yes, of course," you say with a grin. "But you better make it up to me with a proper date soon."

He then presses his lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss. After a moment, he reluctantly pulls back, breaking the kiss but still keeping his face near yours. "Thank god. I was afraid you were going to say no."

"Bitch, are you serious right now?" you say, looking at him as if he was crazy. "You know I couldn't say no to you."

"No, I know you couldn’t resist me even if you tried, babe." He leans in to plant soft kisses on your cheek. "I love you. Mwah. Mwah."

"I love you too," you whisper, snuggling closer to him. "And for the record, I think this whole thing is pretty amazing. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad we were forced to work together."

"Me too," he says softly. "It's been a wild ride, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Yeah, it was clear that things did take a turn after that first kiss. It was a hectic rollercoaster of a ride, but I guess being forced to work on a project with the person you despise can turn it into either the best or worst experience ever.

But for you? It sure as hell was the best.

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (5)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a ㅤㅤㅤ year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for violent acts in a relationship (throwing objects at the wall) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

stop, you're losin' me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: new kbs variety show announced - first mc revealed to be s.irens' novaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   january 2017

the memories of bora bora stuck to you like maple syrup on your hands for years. it was a haunting notion to consider the trip the beginning of the end. you remember the way the golden sand stretched out across the water for what felt like forever, as it shimmered and sparkled under the relentless sun. you could hear jungkook’s laughter echoing in your ears like a melody of a song that looped in your head. the sharpest image of that week glared at you angrily - the first serious fight that you ever got into with your boyfriend.

it was a given that you and jungkook butted heads like any other long-term couple, but you found yourself stomping away to nayoung’s hotel room at the end of the third night with a bundle of clothes in your hands and tear-stained cheeks.

when she swung the door open, her heavy lids indicated that she was about to burst into a complaint about you waking her up. instead, nayoung’s eyes jolted open when they read the expression on your face. 

“what happened?” she asked.

you fought a wail, making sure to shove any sort of crying down your throat because god knows you would never stop if you started. nayoung frowned and opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. 

her room was always messy at the dorms and you weren’t shocked to find her hotel room in a similar state of disarray. however, it beat the way you trashed the room you’d been sharing with jungkook.  clothes on the floor, random objects hurled at the wall, and even a lamp abandoned on the floor. the anger you felt was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you admitted this to nayoung, who looked at you like you had two heads.

“yeah, we fought and i may have knocked some things over. . . “

your temperament was definitely an issue to be discussed, but in your eyes, there were more pressing problems to address. when nayoung made room for you to sit on the left side of the bed, you immediately tucked yourself under the covers and let a few tears stream down your face. 

she frowned. “what were you guys fighting about?”

“jungkook thinks that i’m always too focused on work,” you explained, swiping at your face. “he said i don’t make enough time for him.”

at this point, you were four years into debut and permanently stuck in the fast lane. a few major events occurred in your career recently that changed the trajectory of your group’s popularity - the first being the departure of miseul. it was an unfortunate situation, as she requested the termination of her contract to go back to her hometown, where her grandmother was ill. the company then replaced her with a new girl, cara, who you did not get along with. there was no choice in the matter, though, and your group’s first comeback with the new lineup happened earlier that year.

another signficant dynamic change was nayoung’s quick rise to stardom as an actress. she’d starred in a drama that was one of the most popular of all time on mbc and as a result, grew in popularity that arguably surpassed your group. she had endorsements and jobs coming left and right, which was prioritized by your company over the group’s endeavours. 

it was a bitter feeling, being overshadowed by both your own group mate and boyfriend, but you instead focused on working harder and taking on every project you could. even with bts’ growing status and schedules, you found yourself making less and less time for jungkook and his argument was that he always did more for the relationship than you did.

“focused on work? we’re literally on vacation.” nayoung sighed, coming into bed with you. “i’m glad you’re here, though, y/n. i feel like i haven’t seen you since we landed.”

agreeing to the bora bora trip was a reluctant decision, as it was originally just supposed to be a composition of your and jungkook’s friends. you only wanted to bring nayoung and sooah, until the latter convinced you to ask cara to tag along, since they didn’t want to leave her out. the trip was intended to be the time for you to bond with jungkook, but you were now put into a position to also bond with your group members, especially since things hadn’t really been the same with the girls since miseul left. 

“nayoung, we’re still friends right?” you asked meekly, feeling pathetic even as you said it.

her shoulders dropped and she pulled you into an embrace. “of course we are! why would you say that?”

“ever since we stopped living with each other and since miseul left. . .” you trailed off, tearing away. “i feel like the group sees each other as just coworkers or something.”

you were now twenty years old and experiencing life independently. the same was said for your group mates, as you were all now off doing your own things and only reuniting once or twice a year for a comeback. at some point, you considered these girls sisters. now, those feelings felt miles away. even the bora bora trip felt forced. 

“y/n,” nayoung’s tone grew serious. “i’m always going to be here for you.”

this would be the last time that s.irens would spend time together outside of work. sooah and nayoung’s relationship soured over the years to the point where they no longer spoke by 2020 - a result of merely growing up and growing out of childhood friendships. you also began building resentment against nayoung, who would become the country’s it girl in no time and stopped publicly acknowledging that she was in a girl group. you eventually no longer considered her a friend, deciding you did not want her arrogance in your life. miseul only texted you once a year to say happy birthday. this was the breakdown of the only support system you had. 

when morning came after staying up until dawn with nayoung, you found yourself sneaking back into your and jungkook’s shared hotel room. you were surprised to see that he was not in bed, but felt a salty breeze stream in from the balcony.

  you stepped forward and saw jungkook sitting down, eyes fixed on the aquamarine of the beach ahead. when you opened the door wider to let yourself out, he already knew it was you.

  “i’m sorry, bug,” he immediately said, too ashamed to look at you.

  you were convinced that it was your hothead that drove the majority of the argument and his apology made your heart sink. you were the one who threw things at the wall and spiralled without looking back. he shot back with his own words, but you knew that you were the one who started it.

  without warning, you sat right beside jungkook and wrapped your arms around his back. you put your chin on his shoulder and he physically relaxed, as if he’d been carrying sandbags for days. you whispered an apology against his neck and held back tears.

  “you’re right. i’ve been a horrible girlfriend.” you hated how bitter the words tasted. “i’m going to do my best to fix my work-life balance. you try so hard for me.”

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 edition of the idol star ahtletic competition now filming in goyang!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤjanuary 2017

  you never felt at fault for your hot temper when jungkook’s jealous eye followed you like a lost puppy. it was just as much as a problem as your own shortcomings and it always felt like a battle of who’s more in the wrong between you two.

  everyone looked forward to each year’s edition of the idol star athletic championsips, a kind break amidst the hustle and bustle of a regular schedule. some of the more active idols took the games quite seriously, but for you and the rest of s.irens, it was several days of filming that were ultimately far more chill than any of your regular promotional activities. coming off the bora bora trip, a little relay race was next to nothing in terms of effort. 

  your group’s event was the last of the day, which left you and nayoung wandering around the goyang gymnasium for the meantime. you were texting jungkook to see if he was also free, when nayoung was called over by some individuals. 

  it was in a tent area away from the view of the spectators and cameras, which you were grateful for at an event where fans watched idols like hawks.

  “nayoung! and nova!”

  exo’s leader was known in the community to be charming and well-spoken, which didn’t surprise you when you found yourself struck immediately. you’d seen him around and of course watched him on television and online, but you could now see up close just how different the aura of a top boy group was. beside him was his fellow group members and participants for the archery event later that day, who were sehun and chanyeol.

  “y/n, this is junmyeon and sehun and chanyeol,” nayoung introduced, beaming. it seemed like her rise in popularity meant that she had begun rubbing elbows with a-list idols like exo.

  you mirrored her smile. “nice to meet you all. y/n is fine, just call me that,” you insisted, as the three of you exchanged bows.

  unlike your fellow group members, you didn’t find yourself to be much of a social butterfly. you hung out with them and your boyfriend - occasionally your boyfriend’s friends. yet, somehow, others knew you. sehun asked if you were doing archery again this year, which you weren’t. junmyeon complimented your group’s last release. chanyeol mentioned running into miseul at the airport the other day. 

  as the pleasantries were made, the floor rumbled with the roar of fans across the stands. in the middle of the arena, the rhythmic gymnastics event was set to begin and all eyes were trained on the competition. that is, all eyes except junmyeon’s, whose own eyes remained fixated on you. it was a foreign sensation to feel your heart leap. 

  “excited for the day ahead?” strained chanyeol, struggling to be heard over the mcs talking. 

  nayoung replied, “yeah! i think our group has a good shot at the relay event!”

  that was false, since you knew sooah was prone to tripping and falling, but you kept that to yourself with a muffled snicker. 

  “it’s definitely going to be a long day. . .” sehun said, yawning. 

  nayoung blew some hair out of her face. “at least it’s only one day of filmng this year.”

  you enjoyed participating in isac each year, as it was mostly fun and games, but it was stressful knowing that cameras were constantly on you. each day of filming felt like the equivalent of a week when you anticipated random fancams of you on the internet the next day, probably doing mundane things like saying hi to a member of exid.

  junmyeon spoke, “it’s going to be a long day, but there’s a thing happening at kc lounge tonight after filming and a bunch of our team is going to be there. chanyeol reserved a whole section for us - you should come.” it took you a second to realize he was now boldly holding out his phone. 

  although the words were meant to address both you and nayoung, he was directly facing you and only looked at you when he asked. you were caught off guard, having trouble finding the words to respond. junmyeon’s eyes were soft and his smile was inviting - you weren’t an idiot. you knew when an invitation was beyond friendly. even nayoung was side-eying you, following the inquiry.

  “uhm - “

  “i’d love to see you there.” it was hard to miss the once over he gave you, as his boys let out a low whistle at his suaveness. you couldn't help but notice the pink tint spreading across your cheeks. 

  the attention felt nice. you’d never been approached so boldly by a senior idol before. and he was hot. you didn’t know what to say, except that you were lingering in this conversation for way too long than acceptable.

  thankfully, the vibration of your own phone interrupted whatever sentence you were to form next. with a glance at the screen, the picture of you and jungkook stared back at you and you were left dumbfounded. why was he calling you in the middle of a live event? 

  you said, “sorry, i think i’m being called.”

  nayoung nudged you, prompting you to turn around and see that jungkook was staring directly at you from a few tents away. his expression was stone-cold and eyes burned in your direction. realizing what it looked like to him with junmyeon basically asking for your number, you groaned. 

  “you think it’s safe for me to walk over there?” you muttered into nayoung’s ear, ignoring the curious stares of the three exo members in front of you. junmyeon had now slowly retracted his phone away, now also noticing jungkook looking your way. 

  nayoung looked around. “maybe if you walk behind the tents, up against the wall,” she suggested, not missing jungkook either. 

  it wasn’t too bad of timing either, since the competition was mid-event and most individuals were preoccupied with that. you wouldn’t have approached him in public otherwise. 

  junmyeon seemed to understand what was going on and he only offered a small smile. “well, let me know. we’re stuck here all day, anyway,” he chuckled.

  you thanked him and excused yourself, following nayoung’s direction to discreetly make your way over to jungkook’s tent. 

  other than him, a few members of bts lingered around the tent, presumably warming up for their event later on in the day. well, that’s what you thought they were doing before, as they were now looking towards you and jungkook, probably witnessing the same interaction as your boyfriend. jungkook’s arms were folded across his chest when you approached and you were already not in the mood.

  “meet me in that hall,” you said as quickly and loudly as you could, not wanting an audience. 

  you turned around without waiting for an answer and jungkook waited several beats before trailing behind, just in case. the two of you found yourselves in the tunnel leading into the main stadium area, which was thankfully empty. 

  you were surprised that jungkook’s fuse was triggered, as you two just shared a nice dinner date the night before with no issues. however, the more you thought about it, his jealousy issues were rising recently - from one wrong stare at a party by a monsta x member the other night to being asked out by a music producer that worked with s.irens.  each interaction was met with rage.

  “are you alright?” you questioned, once you were out of earshot and eyesight from anyone.

  “were they being weird to you?” jungkook instantly replied, jaw clenched.

  you furrowed your eyebrows. “what? no,” you said. “they were just being friendly - “

  “you should stay away from exo, i wouldn’t trust a lot of those guys.”

  “isn’t taehyung friends with some of them?” you dryly shot back, but he ignored your sentiment and continued ranting about how male idols weren’t to be trusted.

  obviously, you and him both knew what he was actually annoyed about. you stood your ground, as you knew you didn’t do anything wrong. it was a harmless interaction and you didn’t expect the entire idol community to know that you and jungkook were dating - well, actually, you kind of did and it was a little bit weird to get the invite in such a flirtatious way, but you were not going to take part. it was shut down immediately, but here you were. 

  after another minute of jungkook going on about the interaction, you interrupted him by abruptly placing a kiss on his cheek. he froze.

  “stop it. i’m fine. he was just being nice,” you sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was hiding in the shadows. “now, can we go back to our jobs, jungkook?”

  though your boyfriend was normally quite relentless about these things, your words did snap him back to the reality in which you were putting your very careers at risk to even have this hushed conversations in the shadows. isac was all fun and games, but you were on the clock with cameras in every corner possible. your slight touch of affection seemed to also help, as jungkook visibly eased when you kissed him on the cheek.

  he adjusted his sweatshirt and sighed. “alright. i’m sorry.”

  and that was the end of that conversation, but another faded memory lost in the chaos of 2017.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 bts live trilogy episode III (final chapter): the wings tour to commence next weekㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤfebruary 2017

  the bland eggshell walls of the bighit entertainment headquarters didn’t faze you. at the very beginning, it was unsettling just how hollow the corridors and nooks appeared to be, as if the surroundings belonged in a prison. you’d been in and out of the hallways over the past years, albeit often for very few reasons that were pleasant. though it was a huge maze, you memorized the path on floor seventeen.

  upon hearing the loud ding and the metal doors sliding open with ease, you stepped onto the said floor with nothing less than pure anger bubbling in your veins. you clearly made your way up here — through traffic and past the security at the front desk who always mistook you for a crazed fan — with a purpose. you weren’t going to rest until you gave jeon jungkook a piece of your mind. releasing a long sigh, the employees who took a glance up and saw the infuriated expression on your face didn’t even bother stopping you. this had become routine.

  the distinct voices of his group members, combined with one of the group’s tracks amplified through speakers and footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors in immaculate unison, were enough to tell you that he was here.

  “jeon jungkook.”

  the chorus to ‘spring day’ came to a sudden halt. hoseok was the first person to take notice of you and stopped dancing when you appeared at the doorway. the others noticed fast and when jungkook finally looked up, someone had already stopped the music.

  the look shared by his group mates seemed to read that they knew exactly what he was in trouble for. the prompt end of the music seemed to indicate so. a scared expression flashed on jungkook’s face upon reading your own stone-cold one.

  last time this happened was when you found a pack of cigarettes in one of your boyfriend’s jackets, after he swore up and down to you that he was quitting nicotine. another time was because of him forgetting that you had a date that night. today, the rage running through your veins was due to something new.

  jungkook visibly winced every time you said his full name aloud and here, he nearly shuddered at the sound. his head hung low, like a puppy. he knew what he did wrong this time.

  “i’ll be right back,” you heard him mutter to namjoon who could only nod empathetically, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene.

  for jungkook’s sake, the group broke out into forced conversation to distract from the two of you. seokjin pretended to ask hoseok for help with the choreography and taehyung wanted to suddenly show the rest of the group a video on his phone. meanwhile, the youngest of the group wordlessly followed you out into the hallway.

  “where were you last night?”

  the question was immediate, not even waiting for jungkook to shut the door behind him. he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

  jungkook asked, “did you really have to come all the way here to have this conversation with me?” exasperation laced his words like a bow, but you were unfazed.

  “well, clearly i don’t know when and where you’re busy,” you shot back, “so i had no choice but to come here.”

  he opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by raising your phone to eye-level. on the screen was the private instagram of cha eunwoo, who posted several slides of content of cheonsa lounge in gangnam. the very first picture was him and jungkook, clutching a shot glass of dark liquor in one hand and a vape in another. upon scanning the screen, where you proceeded to move through the instagram post - one picture of jungkook posing with eunwoo and the bottle girls from the club and the next being jungkook holding a bottle of champagne - silence filled the air.

  jungkook’s shoulders drop in defeat. “i’m sorry, it was a last minute thing - “

  “how last minute?! i called you at ten last night, asking if we could have a movie night in,” you cut him off, “and you said you were feeling sick! you don’t look so sick in these photos, huh?”

  “i was feeling sick, i swear!” he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the boys called me an hour after that and guilt-tripped me into coming - “

  “oh, please.”

  jungkook huffed. “i’m telling the truth!””

  if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that jungkook’s boys did, in fact, drag him out to the club the night before. regardless of that, you were more upset with the fact that he declined you, but said yes to his friends. 

  “is a night in with me too boring for you now?” you questioned, jaw clenched. “if you were going out, you could have at least asked me to come!”

  “you don’t have to come out every time with me, y/n, i need time with my friends,” he replied and sighed once more. 

  this made you even more mad. “when did i say you can’t have time with your friends?!” you didn’t like the fact that jungkook was making you out to be such a control freak.

  jungkook groaned. “i didn’t say that!”

  nothing had been the same since the bora bora trip earlier that year. sure, you and jungkook fought like any other couple, but it was never this bad and this frequent. it was as if the fight in the hotel was the first domino to a cascade of falls. coupled with your increasingly exhausting schedules and other factors affecting your relationship, such as your career-driven mindset that was prioritized over everything and bts’ rise to international fame, it was only natural that you and jungkook would only drift farther apart.

  yet, neither of you were ready to walk away. as you and jungkook continued your back and forth for several more minutes to come in the darkened hallway of bighit entertainment, you could hear the opening notes to spring day once more - his fellow members presumably giving up on waiting for him to return before resuming practice.

  i miss you, was the opening line to spring day and it physically hurt your heart to listen to, as jungkook stood just a few feet away from you and still seemed so far away. the two of you gave each other the silent treatment for the next week after.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: s.irens fans grow restless as the group's comeback is pushed once again, allegedly to accomodate main dancer go nayoung's filming schedule for mbc's 'far away' dramaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   september 2017

  for once, you and jungkook were not getting hazy heads amidst the lights of a nightclub or a packed party, but a charity ball. held at the spacious estate of a member of the family behind hyundai, it was a sight to behold and made jungkook forget that he was in the middle of seoul. he found himself in the back gardens, underneath a marble gazebo that overlooked the lush flowers and twinkling lights of the area. they shone like stars, string lights that hung all around the gardens, and jungkook wished he could share this sight with you.

  things were fuzzy with you, but jungkook held out hope that you would be able to pick up the pieces and fix things soon. after a string of fights the past few months, you had finally reached your wits’ end. it was an imploding, inevitable time bomb that was going to set off sooner rather than later. you and jungkook were beginning to butt heads more than not and one random thursday night, it was d-day.

  there weren’t too many places in the city that would be safe for even just a normal stroll with your boyfriend, which was an unfortunate truth that jungkook had to swallow for years on end. more than anything in the world, he wanted to flaunt you to the whole world to show everyone just how lucky he was. he was so in love with you and that was never going to change.

  from the moment he met you, he was smitten with your beauty and the nail in the coffin was your addicting personality that he was so naturally in sync with. to have someone so incredibly bewitching as his best friend, all jungkook ever wanted to do was scream to the world that you were his girlfriend. 

  instead, your date nights since the turn of your early twenties consisted of outings like secluded nature walks, friends’ homes, long drives, and if you were careful, the corner store at night. maybe that was why jungkook loved enjoying the seoul nightlife with you - it was a safe space where you could be with each other and with each other, the most important thing other than pounding music and letting alcohol wash away your worries.

  your last date was no different, as jungkook suggested to take a walk along the han river. you had no qualms about the suggestion - though, evaluating the place as a date wasn’t the catalyst to your agreement. you knew that there was a conversation to be had and you could have done in anywhere at that point. it’d been over two weeks since you last saw each other, as missed opportunities sipped from your fingers to sit jungkook down and have a talk about your relationship with him.

  jungkook saw you from a mile away - it was hard not to when you were literally wearing one of his hoodies. even though it’d felt like forever since the dna promotions began taking over his life and you were off filming a drama, he could always spot you in a crowded room in just seconds. you were waiting by the water, looking off into the seoul night skyline. a black baseball cap hid most of your face and you were smoking a cigarette - a habit that you eventually picked up from jungkook, despite initially chewing him out for the unhealthy habit. you eventually decided that you were also too overworked to not have a vice.

  on the other hand, jungkook had been cold turkey for a whole month. he’d grown disappointed of himself for giving in so often on ruining his health, especially as a singer. a frown tugged at his lips when he approached you, just as you were finishing up.

  your eyes always brightened when you saw jungkook, but tonight, you saw something in his own that prevented it. offering a small smile, you walked closer up without a hint of a light in your eyes.

  “hi kookie,” you whispered and pulled him into a tight embrace. jungkook always loved your scent - a strong cinnamon and vanilla smell that warmed his heart, even on breezy autumn nights like this one.

  his face was in your hair, holding you just as tight, when he realized something. something odd.

  jungkook stepped half a foot apart when the hug concluded, examining your features. “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked, as the anxiety came to settle in after you chose to hug him instead of kiss kim.

  your lips pressed into a thin line and he knew. you insisted that you two hold hands during this walk, which he wanted to refuse, but eventually decided to remain quiet about it. hands clasped, you two began to stroll south of the river.

  for a bit, you and jungkook bantered about how you stole his hoodie without him even realizing it. then, an uncomfortable silenced emerged, as you both could only listen to the light stream of the han and the passing cars nearby. 

  it was jungkook that said something first.

  you let him speak freely because on any other day, it would be a battle marked by avoidance and stonewalling. jungkook had suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the path, after the silence became too grand for him. he reached his limit, too.

  “we should take a break.”

things had been getting weird for a while now between the two of you. you were always fighting and when you weren't fighting, it was when jungkook was overseas, away on the wings tour.

  that’s when your heart began racing. “a break? you want to separate?” 

  “we obviously can’t be together. this isn’t working out. we clash too much and we’re always screaming at each other and we’re risking our jobs and - fuck, i’m sorry.”

  the rant was cut short when jungkook, after pacing back and forth as he spiralled with each word, paused in his tracks at the sight of tears streaming abundantly down your cheeks. he stopped and immediately felt the ball of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach transfigure into a heavy dread accentuated by guilt, weighing heavy on the inside. his chest began hurting and apologies fell from his lips, as he took you right back into his arms.

  “i love you, i know it’s been hard, but we can’t break up,” you hiccuped in between each short breath, barely audible when your crying face was pressed up against jungkook’s chest. “do-do you really feel that way?”

  jungkook rapidly shook his head, not even taking time to think about it. “no, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry!” he cooed, rocking you back and forth.

  after a moment of just crying from the two of you, you were finally able to catch your breath and rubbed jungkook’s back, hoping it would help him catch his. his breathing eventually slowed back to normal.

  “but, i think you’re right. . .” your voice suddenly emerged, barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. . .but we need space.”

  “i’d do anything to save this relationship,” jungkook replied and the statement brought you an unknown feeling, spreading across your mind. “whatever you think is best. i can’t lose my best friend - let’s take some time and come back stronger.”

  and that was the agreement. it had been just about a month since it happened and there was no progress since. your and jungkook’s schedules were busier than ever and it was only a coincidence that you both ended up at the same charity ball.

  for the first time in a long time, seeing you felt like remnants of a far away memory - shattered glass pieces of your relationship dancing in the air that, if jungkook tried hard enough, could be grasped at and remembered. your hair was now blonde and made longer with extensions, brushing just above your tailbone. you wore a periwinkle evening dress, soft satin mirroring the chandeliers on the high ceilings and fanned out into a flattering mermaid tail shape. jungkook hadn’t seen you with such makeup before, as you wore a cherry red lip and a sharp cateye. you looked different. . .good, but different.

  jungkook saw you in the foyer, mingling with some chaebols and looking bored. jungkook noticed that you came with sooah, presumably to represent s.irens or your company as a whole, but neither of you so much as looked at each other. jungkook grew worried that you were slowly isolating yourself from your friends. he was also worried that your bored eyes were instead tired eyes from such a hectic schedule.

  there wasn’t any way that jungkook was going to get your attention in that moment, so he instead carried on with his night as normal. he greeted friends, looked for opportunities to network, and helped himself to the fine wine. after an hour, he wandered outside to get some fresh air. then, he looked out at the beauty of the gardens and thought of you, as he strolled down the cobblestone path with a glass of red in one hand.

  he wasn’t sure how long he’d been pondering for under the gazebo, until he saw the time of his watch and realized that it was probably time for dinner to be served. jungkook sighed, stepping out of the gazebo to make his way back inside the manor, sneaking one more look at the calming moon and hoping to run into you at the party. 

  jungkook’s wishes were met sooner than expected, as he spotted you by a tucked away corner, smiling from ear to ear. he was taken aback to see the source of your giggling, being some guy he knew from the korean national football team. one of their best players, actually, as jungkook was quite a fan. he was one of the most popular athletes in the country, it was no surprise that he’d be brushing elbows with other a-listers at this charity ball. jungkook hand clenched into a fist, watching the two of you flirt away from everyone else.

  throughout your years together, jungkook was always a bit of a possessive type. in the way you were far from perfect, he also understood his own flaws. i mean there was quite a lot, like anyone else - he was also bad at communicating his feelings, often shutting down, and cared a lot about appearances.  

  none of that mattered in this moment, as he began walking straight toward you.

  in your defense, you genuinely believed that space meant that you were single. had you been the one to make a fuss about breaking up? yes, but. . .well, there was no but. it’d been years since you were able to prance around without the worries of a relationship and although you wanted jungkook back, it was admittedly freeing. 

  bae sejoon was the striker on the men’s national team and had been eying you since you walked into the estate. the two of you previously crossed paths at a lounge in gangnam a few months ago and now seeing that jungkook was not presently attached to your hip, he made the first move. it was hard to ignore - his coy smirk and athletic build that exuded masculinity. however, your only intentions were to simply ravel in the attention sejoon was willing to give to you.

  as soon as you arrived to the event, sooah already left to go greet some of her model friends in the main dining room. she didn’t ask you to join - you’d been drifting apart since the beginning of the year and moving out of the dorns. meanwhile, you planned to politely mingle with other guests, given that you were technically here because of work - despite wanting nothing more but to lay low and keep to yourself. 

  “well, maybe we should go together. can’t believe you’ve never been to the best cafe in all of seoul.”

  instead, you were batting your eyelashes at sejoon, who’d been going on about some french-style cafe that just opened up in the city. you didn’t think he was a particularly interesting guy, but he was cute. a cute distraction. 

  you said, “that sounds fun.”

  except, sejoon didn’t know that you stopped drinking coffee two years ago. he didn’t know that you found little coffee shops pretentious and too hipster-y for your liking. you forced a smile. 

  jungkook always got you pastries straight from one particular bakery. he remembered your matcha order word for word. he made fun of coffee shops that tried too hard to be different with you. he. . . . he was now right in front of you?

  you made it known to jungkook that you loved seeing him in all black. as the first kiss of autumn dawned upon seoul, he donned a long sleeve dress shirt and slacks. tailored and in the consistent shade of all black, the sight lit a fire in your stomach and you found yourself in a haze of how good he looked. 

  jungkook never hid how attracted he was to you, even after all these years of being together. he scanned your appearance from head to toe, licking his lips. it was as if there wasn’t a whole third person in your presence, as explicit images ran through both of your minds. it’d been so long since you saw each other and the tension in the air was like molasses. 

  “hi y/n,” jungkook greeted, not even looking sejoon’s way, until the other male cleared his throat. “am i interrupting something?” the glare jungkook sent sejoon was sharper than a blade.

  sejoon rolled his eyes, already realizing his defeat. “yes, actually,” he replied. 

  your eyes remained trained on jungkook until that moment, where you had to physically shake it off. 

  “jungkook, you know sejoon,” you began reluctantly, noticing jungkook’s hard planted feet.

  he only grunted in response, still not caring enough to say anything to sejoon and acknowledge him. 

  at this point, sejoon was over it. he looked at you and then at jungkook’s menacing figure, arms crossed and glare still fixed. it was as if you watched him calculating his odds during this conversation and decided there was no winning.

  sejoon turned to you, a crease in between his eyebrows. “nice chatting with you,” he said and solemnly walked away.

  you would have otherwise rolled your eyes at such a dramatic reaction if it weren’t for jungkook standing in front of you. everything about him was so mesmerizing, as the time away truly made the heart grow fonder. the smirk pressed against his lips showed that jungkook knew exactly what kind of effect he still had on you.

  “i’ve missed you,” were the words that fell out of your mouth, almost instantly, and you wanted to kick yourself. how pathetic.

  jungkook eyed you. “didn’t look like it just now,” he tried to be casual, but the sharpness in his voice was loud.

  “still as jealous as ever, huh?”

  your initial tactic was to play hard to get - even if you and jungkook had been together for years, it’d been so long since you could just flirt and tease him. it was a spark that’d been missing for quite some time now. a smile played mischievously on your lips.

  truthfully, this was what jungkook needed. he was initially despondent upon your agreement to give each other space, sulking for several days until work got too busy to be dwelling on emotions. the time away and seeing you look at another man sparked something in him, too. his lids grew heavy.

  he said, “so, this is what space means for you, huh?”

  jungkook sounded as angry as he was hungry. it set him off, as his gaze lowered further and further down your body. on any day he would be ticked off, but his feelings of frustrations today instead felt warm and inviting. you froze when he stepped closer towards you, close enough that you could simply speak in secrets. 

  “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all that could come out of your mouth in a heavy breath, too mesmerized to make any further attempts at wit.

  he was now just about nose to nose with you, but you couldn’t muster up the strength to meet his eyes.

  “you’re nervous.”

  “no, i’m not,” you said, edge in your voice.

  lying right through your teeth wasn’t the best strategy when jungkook could see past it like glass. you were happy to flirt and dish it out, but being so close to jungkook so suddenly left you at a loss for words. you forgot where you were for a second and when you realized that the two of you were in public, your heart began beating like a butterfly’s wings. despite this, he was bold. he didn’t move an inch, willing to risk it all. 

  jungkook let out a low chuckle. “you won’t look me in the eye. you’re nervous, baby.”

  “what do you want, jungkook?” you asked slowly.

  his gaze trailed back to where sejoon walked off to. “what was all that about?” he said.

  the answer was glaringly obvious to you, as jungkook innocently brushed a hair from your eyes and you resisted the urge to shudder at his touch. nothing in the world compared to this feeling.

  “honestly?” you began, as identical smirks began to form on both of your faces. “nothing. nothing at all.”

  that was all that needed to be said. jungkook, without tearing his eyes away from you, wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and made a call. he licked his lips as he spoke and everything else in the world faded to grey. jungkook was a cascade of the colours of the rainbow, illuminating brighter and brighter like the sun until you were blinded from seeing anything else. he was a kaleidoscope that shone in front of you and you were emerging from a place with no light.

  it took you a few moments to realize that jungkook was calling his driver. however, as far as he was concerned, the night wasn’t over - it was just getting started.

  jungkook finally stepped away and you somehow felt so cold. “i’m going to leave out of the west wing doors. my car is there. leave out the east wing doors and walk around to meet me.” his directions were precise and somehow not commanding. tone soft and a gentle hand on the small of your back, it was the worst feeling of all.

  familiarity. comfort. home.

  all you could do was nod, your chest growing louder with excitement. both of your synergies were one and you both knew what idea came to mind. not much else needed to be said and there wasn’t a single part of you that could say no. his knowing smile was haunting.

  after parting ways in opposite directions - as if a conversation didn’t even occur -  you eventually ended up in the back of a limousine with jungkook.

  time moved oddly in between those two moments, as the only thing you could think of was jungkook. it was an addiction no different than chips across a roulette layout or a cup of espresso at the same time everyday. 

  thankfully, the driver’s partition was already up when jungkook opened the door for you, because he immediately captured your lips before you could even sit down. like second nature, your fingers found themselves in the crown of his hair and his hand held your neck like a trophy. you both stumbled, now sat - at least he was. you were already straddling his lap. he tasted like red wine and you could have indulged for forever. 

  “mph, that’s what i fucking thought,” he mumbled against your lips and you took his as an opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

  his hands began hiking your previously eloquent gown up, enough that he could grip your thighs from underneath. your own hands found the buttons of his shirt, as the limousine began to speed off in what were probably going to be circles until jungkook told the driver to stop. 

  being in love was a vicious cycle that proved to be endless. this pattern would only continue from here on out. no matter how deep your passions for each other ran and no matter how addicting each others’ touches were, it only grew worse from here. more fights than lasted weeks to only be swept under the rug with a fuck and make up or a bottle of whiskey shared between you both. growing issues that were overlooked because that was your best friend. 

  your heart was no longer in it - it was trapped. all you could do was forget and forgive. all jungkook could do was beg and shower you with love. the night at the charity ball was one of many roots that eventually grew into deep seated resentment.

LATEST HEADLINE TODAY: hotel azure: what is this up and coming spot for idols in south korea and why is it so special?ㅤㅤ

[heartpascal]

is it freedom?

▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

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Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

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You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

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If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.