#blog has been talking about longing and missing and language a lot lately--

[landwriter]

dear diary,

today I found out neil gaiman liked one of my sandman meta posts but I'm not telling anyone which one because I want people to respect my children equally

also had really good ramen for lunch

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with III

NSFW elements, fluffy ideas that have been ruminating in my head the past couple weeks… to the point I abandoned my main blog to create a side blog for my fav masked men

Easily having scary dog privileges w iii as your man w the slasher-esque aesthetic about him

But we all know that’s not the case

III the bf you lets you play with his rings on his hands when your anxious

Playing with his hair all. the. time! I’m talking twirling the ends, head scratchies, all of it! He hated how much it had an affect on him

He could be going on a tangent laying his head in your lap on the couch after a long day, and he’d instantly shut up melting into your touch once you started playing with his hair!

III the bf who’s love languages involved gift giving, and physical touch

would most likely buy you the most cheesiest, corniest, tourist of tourist souvenirs from each city he went to just to show you how much he thinks of you and misses you. Even if your apartment is overflowing with his little treasures and you had to invest in an a P.O. Box

Receiving ‘Daddy’s Little Meatball’ and ‘I love ___’ shirts all the time, snowglobes, and hats (you definitely got a cheesehead hat when they played in Wisconsin and a cowboy hat with feathers and a tiara when they were in Texas)

Sending you postcards with the most embarrassing, filthiest things written on them like the post men wouldn’t see it

Including but not limited to

‘Hi love, here Down Under thinking when I can I be down under you :( ”

“Visited one of the 7 wonders of the world today, you should be the 8th ;)”

“Can’t wait to show you my Big Ben again <3”

The most fashionable one of the members, every show you attend, he would try to coordinate your two outfits.

Including hairstyles… matching space buns or french braids?!? Are you kidding me?? Or even matching hair colors once in a while??

Speaking of hair, you would have to help him dye his hair, or shave his undercut late at night in the bathroom. Vice versa if you wanted the same color. Indulging on your favorite beverage or a little joint, giggling every time you would get a speck of dark/bright dye on each other. Or jokingly act like you buzzed too much hair to rile him up

He also solely has a folder on his phone dedicated to pictures (including a lot of candid off guards of just you two in your own little world backstage) taken by Adam and crew members of the two of you matching/coordinating

His phone background is of you sitting criss cross on a large equipment case looking down at him leaning against it trying to tune his bass, but his head is leaned back gazing up at you through his mask instead… both with space buns in your hair

Since your relationship couldn’t be public and be blaring obvious to most people you knew, III would get you two permanent bracelets. Yours would have a tiny ‘iii’ on it and his would have a tiny initial of your first name.

Even though he would have to profusely clean it after shows from the red body paint. It was something he was willing to do to carry this cheeky secret.

And somewhere in his favorites folder of his phone he has a picture of your tinier hand trying to wrap around his cock with the dainty chain hung displaying ‘iii’ clearly around your wrist

And ofc a pic of you two facing a mirror with his hand wrapped around your neck displaying your initial proudly on his

Which leads me into

He definitely has a size kink in all different types of aspects

Him loving the fact he was so significantly taller than you (lets face it he’s a a long fuckin string bean), and letting it be known

It always (not so) subtly came out

In his pet names for you: doll, bunny, kitten–anything small and cutesy really…even if they became so unserious or cringe

When he would just casually walk by you, and ruffling your hair calling you ‘squirt’, making you roll your eyes and scoff. (The other band members may have started to do this as well bc of III)

His adrenaline still rushing after a show, great rehearsal, or recording session barreling over to you to give you a bear hug, lifting you off the floor swinging you around profusely

you would be doing something or talking to someone, he’d catch you off guard by coming up behind you resting his chin on the top of your head, giving your shoulders a light squeeze or massage

Watching you struggle for something on a higher shelf, and waiting until you would almost give up in defeat to come up behind you making sure to press his body against the back of you as he did so to leave you flustered

Despite him being a giant, and perfect big spoon material–he wants to be lil spoon most times.

Loving your arms around his waist, feeling the soft heave of your chest pressed against his back as you slept, providing the comfort and peace he needed after a day in his busy life

He’d be in a drunken/high haze and when it would be just the two of you, he would compare his hand to yours always, smiling lazily over at you adoringly

Admire how his hand practically encapsulated the expanse of your throat when you were up against a wall or underneath him.

A small growl leaving his lips, when he tried to fit inside you loving how you squeeze him

“Fuck doll, are you gonna be able to take all of me?” He hisses, pushing your legs further apart

Or watching how’d you have to use two hands and barely fitting him into your palms when you gave him a hand job

“Baby you’re squeezing me so good.” He tries his best to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you struggle to jerk him

In conclusion, I need this man biblically.. and I got carried away and could have kept going if you guys want me to keep going I can 🤭🥹 I do plan on doing one for the others too. Reblogs, likes, and replies are always appreciated and fuels my validation

[callhermyname]

you're not going | eddie munson x reader, pt. 1

summary: basically the same plot of s4 ep.1; you see Eddie and Chrissy at the picnic table and get the wrong idea.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: MDNI!!; reader is bisexual; tiny bit of fluff, but mostly angst; Robin being the ADHD poster girl she is; crying, mentions of blood, assault, child abuse; THIS IS A STRANGER THINGS S4 REWRITE, I DID NOT CAME UP WITH THE STORYLINE!! let me know if i missed something.

a/n: this is part 1 of my stranger things s4 rewrite, so if you want to read more, you can help me by liking and rebloging this post, following my blog and telling me if you like it! If you haven't read the prologue, you can read it here. also, excuse any grammar errors, english is not my first language.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You've all been through a lot. After Will went missing, a couple weeks after you met Eddie, your life has never been the same, and probably will never be. Your first year at Hawkins High was hard after all the shit that went down, and you were closer to the other teens and the kids now, but you really wished you could talk to Eddie about it. You felt like he would understand.

The year after that was a little better, all things considered. After Nancy dumped Steve and he and Dustin became… friends (i guess?), you and Steve got really close too, so no one dared to talk shit about you like they used to — they knew better than to upset the girl Steve Harrington treated as a sister. When Steve and Robin started working together, the three of you became peas in a pod (especially after Robin ended up learning about the upside down and El and all that). She was your best friend, someone you could talk to about anything, and she could talk to you about anything too. When she came out to you, you felt like you could also come out to her (as bissexual) and with that you, her and Steve became best totally platonic friends.

—

"Dustin, for fucks sake, Steve has been honking outside for 10 minutes, we're gonna be late, what the fuck are you doing in there?" you banged at your cousin's bedroom door.

"Don't come in! I'm naked!" he yells back.

"You know what? We're not doing this again, I'm not losing my ride because of you, you can bike to school." you grabbed your backpack and headed out the door.

Swearing at Dustin under your breath, you make your way to the backseat of Steve's car.

"What took you so long?" Steve looked back at you "Wait, where's the little butthead?"

"He's probably talking to his girlfriend, I don't care. If he's gonna be late, he can be late. I'm not losing my ride."

"Looks like someone's in a mood today huh?" Robin teased you as Steve started the car.

"Nah, the little shit might get on my nerves but you two always end up cheering me up. Unless Steve starts talking about whatever girl he's taking out this weekend, then I'd rather just eat a handful of broken glass."

"Oh my god, that's EXACTLY what he's been doing since I got in the goddamn car!" Robin turns back to look at you, holding her hands up to her ears "If i have to listen to him talk about having sex with Linda for one more second i swear to god-"

"Heidi! I was talking about Heidi! How can you complain about me talking about something you're not even listening to?"

You just can't help but laugh at them arguing like an old married couple. You love them so much it almost hurts.

"At least I'm actually doing something with my dating life, unlike the both of you." he said in a sarcastic tone.

For the next five minutes he and Robin went back and forth about how she can't just ask Vicky out and how she definitely should ask Vicky out because of the whole "people who like boobies" thing. You space out for a second and snap your head as you hear Eddie's name.

"What about Eddie?" you ask, trying to get back to the conversation.

"See?" Robin snaps "One second she's totally inside her own little head and as soon as someone mentions him she starts paying attention. How does that not qualify as having the most heart-wrecking massive crush on someone?"

"Shut up!" you bite back, trying to defend yourself, but obviously failing, because she was right.

"Ladies, ladies! Calm down, there's no reason to get feisty. You're BOTH chickening out, not asking Vicky and Eddie out. Though I actually see where Robin"s coming from."

"Steve, c'mon-" you try yet again to tell him you're not chickening out, but he doesn't want to hear it again.

"No! Look, you listen to me, how on earth do you manage to take down three military trained Russians and still be afraid to ask him out?"

"It's not that simple!" you frown, now starting to feel like a little girl pouting over your parents giving you a lecture.

"Yeah, sure," Robin snorts "you only hang out alone with him pretty much every day to help him study so he can finally graduate"

"You know what?" you snap at them "I don't have to justify my non-existent love life to either one of you. I'm just gonna keep pretending I don't have feelings for him. Who knows, maybe he'll ask me out? That's a possibility!"

"Okay, okay. We'll drop it." Steve says, lifting his hands from the wheel for a second, in surrender.

"We just care about you, babe" Robin follows his lead "You know that, right?"

"I do."

— 

You and Robin sit at your regular cafeteria table, a couple tables away from the designated Hellfire Club table, where Eddie is yelling at Dustin and Mike about something, making it a little hard to listen to what Robin is talking to you about.

"Seriously, I'm really worried about Max. I mean, we all know she's been depressed since Billy… y'know. But she was way off today at the pep rally, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess" Max was to you what Dustin was to Steve, something between a friend and the little sister you never had. "I've been begging her to talk to me, to tell me if there's something I can do, but she just won't-"

You lose your train of thought when you see Eddie climb up the table, walk across it, jump off it and yell nonsense around the cafeteria.

"God, he's really worked up today, huh?" Robin says, turning her head back to look at Eddie's little scene.

"I wonder what Dustin and Mike were talking to him about. He threw at least five mini pretzels at each one of them while he was yapping about something." you chuckle and roll your eyes when he catches you looking at his performance and gives you a smile and a quick wink. "He's kinda funny when he gets mad at them."

"Funny. Right." Robin turns her head back to look at you. "You obviously think he's just funny, not cute or anything else."

"Dude, you said you'd drop it!"

"I'm sorry!" she giggles "It's just hilarious when your cheeks turn all red just because he smiled at you. You look so silly!"

You watch as Eddie pulls Dustin and Mike by the collar of their Hellfire shirts and pushes them away from the table, both of them running off the cafeteria like they're in a rush. Eddie turns around and walks towards you.

"Okay, now shut the fuck up. He's coming our way."

Eddie heads towards you with slow dramatic steps, leaning over and resting his elbows on the end of the table, an evil grin on his face. 

"Hey ladies. Whatcha talkin 'bout?"

"Nothing much," you turn to face him, now with a playful little smirk of your own. "just watching you make a fool of yourself yet again. Quite the show you got going on there."

He gasps, spreading his palm over his chest, like he's offended by you calling him a fool.

"A fool? How dare you. And yes, thank you for recognizing my performing talents. It is one of my many gifts, as you know."

"Sure do", you remember the days long D&D sessions you attended when you used to be a part of the Hellfire Club. His theatrics flooding the room as he masters his most diabolical campaigns, standing up on his wooden carved throne and emphatically yelling the lines he'd written and planned for weeks, his voice echoing the drama club room, his eyes round and wide sparkling at the dim light as he smiles with pride over one of the only things he actually felt like he was good at.

"We miss you at the club, y'know?" his voice snaps you out of your trance. He sounds almost sad.

"Yeah, I miss you guys too. But you know, I really needed the job at Family Video." Now you sound sad too. "It's a shame my shifts are not scheduled as Robin and Steve's. Can't even make plans without risking the odds of a last minute shift."

"Study sesh still up today after class right?" he quirks a brow.

"Sure!" you try not to sound too excited, but judging by the look Robin gives you, it seems like you failed.

"Great! It's a date then." he flashes you a big smile, giving you a quick kiss at the top of your head. "Thanks sweetheart, you're the best. See ya later!"

With that, he turns around to get back to the Hellfire table. Robin looks at you with something that looks a lot like pity in her eyes. "Ouch. That 's gotta hurt."

"A little." you shrug. "But it's okay, I guess. Better than not having him around."

"Oh, for the love of GOD, just ask him out already!" she says, a little too loud.

"Sure. When you ask Vicky."

"Hm. Touché, I guess."

—

You were walking out the door, headed to your and Eddie's usual study session spot at the picnic table in the woods, when Dustin and Mike approached you.

"What are you doing tonight?" Dustin asked.

"Uh… I don't know, maybe watching the game? Robin is playing with the band and Steve is taking his date, so I'll probably just tag along with them after we get off work. Why?"

"We need a sub for Lucas at the end of Eddie's campaign tonight." Mike explained. "Can you come?"

"Pleeeeeease?" Dustin begged, before you could even think about the question. "I'll clean your room for the whole spring break!"

"Dustin, you don't even clean your room. My room is always tidy, there's no way you can make it cleaner than it already is."

"I'll do the dishes everytime my mom asks you to do it! I'll clean the cat's litter box! You name it, I'll do it. Just… please?"

You couldn't help but laugh. Dustin was offering to do all those things for you, when you'd actually join them for free. Getting to hang out with Eddie was already enough to get you to agree to fill in for Lucas, but the extra bribe from your cousin sure was welcome. 

"Okay, fine. But hey, no telling your mom about our deal okay? You know she does not like it when you take care of any of the cat related chores. She knows the cat's terrified of you."

"Deal!" he jumped up and down like an excited little kid. "Thank you thank you thank youuuu!", his voice slowly faded away while he ran to wherever else he was going to now, Mike following shortly after him.

You made your way through the woods, even though you knew you were a little early. You always liked to be at the picnic table a little before Eddie, to set up your textbooks and make a checklist of all the topics you'd be helping him with that day. You wouldn't consider yourself very smart, but you always got good grades at history and literature, so Eddie asked you if you could help him study. He really wanted to graduate this year, and part of you hoped it was because he would get to graduate with you. He always talked about how school would suck even more if you weren't there anymore, so you decided to take a little of your time out of school and work to help him — not only for his sake, but also because it is the only time you get to be alone with him, close to him. God, you feel pathetic.

As you get closer to the spot, you hear his laugh. At first you're confused, because he never gets there before you and as far as you knew, he had no idea you'd always be there at least 15 minutes before him. Also, why was he laughing by himself in the middle of the woods? He usually only gets high after you're done studying, so you assume he's not high, which makes it even weirder. Before you could get close enough to ask him what was so funny that got him laughing like an idiot by himself in the middle of the woods, you hear another laugh. A girls laugh.

Silently, you walk slowly towards the picnic table, trying not to be seen. When you get close enough to see them without them seeing you, you recognise who he's laughing with. It's Chrissy Cunningham. You feel your heart drop as you watch him trying to make her laugh, the same way he always makes you laugh. What the hell is happening here? You can't quite understand what they're saying without coming a little closer to them, but you don't wanna risk getting caught, so you just watch as Eddie jumps and claps his hands and Chrissy laughs at his dramatic reaction at whatever it was she'd said to him.

You know you shouldn't feel this jealous, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything like that — hell, you couldn't even gather the courage to tell him how you feel —, and you knew Chrissy, she was a very sweet girl. She was always nice to you, even when the other cheerleaders would call you names and stick bubblegum to your hair, she was always the one to tell them to shut up and teach you a few beauty hacks in the bathroom to get the gum out of your hair without having to cut it off. But maybe that was exactly the point. She was so pretty, and so nice, you wouldn't stand a chance against her.

As Eddie turned around and playfully punched the tree behind him, you caught a glimpse of a small gathering of tiny wildflowers resting by Chrissy's side, at the bench she was sitting on — wildflowers like the ones that grow near his trailer. Did he get her flowers? Did he HANDPICK flowers? For her? —, and you feel a knot forming on your throat. He pulled at the neck of his shirt, exposing his chest tattoo and you felt your eyes filling up with tears. What was that about? Was he flirting with her?

Even though you knew it was not a good idea, you took a few steps closer, quietly, so you could hear the conversation.

"You should come see us!" you hear him say. "We play at the Hideout on Tuesdays, it's pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about… five drunks."

You feel the hot tears start to roll down your face. You always try to go see him play at the Hideout whenever you can. You've been there the past three weeks watching them play. Why is he talking about it like no one watching them is actually important? Like you're not important?

"You know, you're not how I thought you'd be like." Chrissy laughs.

"Mean and scary?" he replies.

That was enough for you. It's not like he was doing anything wrong, but it felt like someone had punched you at your stomach. It hurts to see him treating some other girl the same way he treated you, the way you thought he treated you because he liked you, because he might like you back. You tried to not make much noise as you turned around and followed back the path you came from. There was no way you could sit and study with him like you were not heartbroken.

—

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Steve asked, still not quite believing what you'd just told them. "As in Jason Carver's little princess of Hawkins High cheerleader girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham?"

"Yes." you assured.

"Are you sure it was her?" Robin asked, also in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Heard her voice, saw her face. It was definitely her."

"Shit, that sucks, I'm sorry." Robin tries to comfort you, reaching a hand to tap your shoulder.

"What the hell was she doing with him anyways?" Steve questions. "Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"Maybe she was buying some weed?" 

"Robin, c'mon." you chuckle, sadly. "Chrissy Cunningham? Buying weed? Be fucking serious."

"Yeah Robin, I hate to say it but it makes absolutely no sense." Steve agrees.

The three of you stay silent for a little too long and you feel your friends' eyes on you, looking at you with pity, and you hate it. Finally, after a few more seconds (that actually felt like hours), the silence is broken when the phone at the Video Family counter starts to ring. Robin walks away to pick up the phone and you feel Steve's arms wrapped around you.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said earlier today in the car," he says. "I know I was a little too pushy and I know you're not chickening out. I know you're just afraid to get rejected, and us teasing you about it was not okay. I'm sorry about what happened too, with Chrissy and all. For what it's worth I still think there's probably a good explanation for it. I bet it'll be okay."

You hold back your sobs as you lean into your best friend's shoulder, trying not to stain his clothes with your tears. Even though you're still hurting, a good old bear hug from Steve always makes you feel better, like he squeezes together all of your broken pieces back into place.

"Hey, listen…" you feel Robin tap on your shoulder and you raise your head from Steve's chest. "Eddie's on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

Shit. 

"Tell him I'm not here!"

"Yeah I kinda already told him you were here, that's not gonna work."

"Shit. Fine."

You walk over to the phone and pick it up, both Robin and Steve following you to the front counter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, thank god I found you!" he sighs, relieved. "What the hell happened? I waited for you for like, half an hour and you didn't show up so I got worried because you're never late so I went looking for you but I couldn't find you anywhere," he rambles, like he does when he's nervous "so I- I went home and called your place but your aunt said you weren't there and I didn't know where else to call so I figured you were at work? Oh thank god you're there I was about to call the cops!"

"Yeah sorry about that, I was uh…" you look over at Robin and Steve, trying to come up with an excuse about why you didn't meet him like you'd planned earlier. "I- Robin! Robin had uh… band practice for the uh- tonight's the championship game so she asked me to fill in for her, sorry I forgot to tell you I was not gonna make it."

"But… wasn't that Robin who just picked up the phone?" he sounds confused. You look back and see Robin facepalming her forehead and Steve rubbing the bridge of his nose between his index and his thumb, shaking his head. Shit. You suck at lying. 

"Yes- yeah. She uh, she was at band practice but now she's here, she actually just got here. Yeah."

"Oh okay…" 

"Yeah, listen Eddie I gotta go now, talk to you later, bye!" you slam the phone back at the receiver, hanging up.

"Well, that went… well…?" Steve forces a smile.

"Sure!" Robin holds both of her thumbs up, also trying to look like she didn't think you just dealt with the situation in the worst way possible.

"Yeah sure. I'm gonna go home so I can cry in the bathroom now, I guess. Peace out." you said as you walked out the door. 

When you got home, you remembered you'd agreed to fill in as a sub for Lucas at Hellfire. Of course you did. Because you're just a stupid dumb piece of shit who couldn't pass any opportunity to follow Eddie around like a little puppy. So, you go looking for Dustin around the house to tell him you wouldn't make it to Hellfire, only to find out he's not home. You figured he's probably at Mike's, so you call the Wheelers'. 

"Hello?" Nancy picks up the phone after two rings.

"Nancy! Hey, is Dustin there? He's not home, I figured he'd be at your place with Mike?"

"Oh, hey! Yeah, they're upstairs, I'll go get him for you."

"Thanks Nance, I-" you got cut off by her screaming on the other end of the line.

"MIKE! PHONE FOR DUSTIN!" you hear her call. "So, you going to the game tonight? It's been a while since the last time we went out, we should do something after the game, I miss you!"

"Yeah, I miss you too!" you tell her. And you mean it. It's really been a while since the last time you two did something together. "I'm actually going to spend the night at Robin's tho. We can go to the movies tomorrow, maybe?"

"Sure! I can pick you up at 5, what do you think?"

"Sounds great, I'll see you then!"

"Great! Oh, here 's Dustin. See you at the game tonight!"

"See ya!"

"Hey, what do you mean you'll be at the game? Thought you were gonna come with us to Hellfire tonight" the other line now shifts to Dustin's voice.

"Yeah, about that, I'm not going anymore. Sorry."

"What? Why?"

"Something came up. Maybe you could ask Erica?"

"Erica? You know Eddie 's gonna lose his shit if I take her as a sub for Lucas."

"Yeah, I know, but it's her or nothing. Sorry, Dusty. I'll make it up to you okay? I promise."

"Fine. But you owe me one!"

"Big time, I know. Gotta go now, take care okay? See you after the game."

"Yeah, see ya." 

You felt bad about letting Dustin down. You really did. But you also knew you wouldn't last that much at Hellfire without crying, and that would be even worse.

After an hour or so of crying your eyes out, you decided to do your makeup. Even though you were feeling like absolute shit, you knew you couldn't look like absolute shit, and you usually get a boost of self esteem after getting your makeup done, and god knows you could use that right now. So, after spending half an hour doing your eyeliner on each eye, you changed into your jeans and your favorite little tank top, put on your old school black Vans, grabbed some random jacket that was hanging at the back of your chair and left to watch the game.

"Aunt Claudia?" you yelled from the front door, almost forgetting to tell her you were leaving.

"Yes honey?" she yelled back from her bedroom.

"I'm leaving to watch the championship game, probably will spend the night at Robin's, okay? You don't have to wait up for me." 

"Okay honey, have fun and be safe okay?" 

"Will do, see you tomorrow!" 

At the game, you sat right next to the band, Robin was right by your side and Steve was with his date a couple of rows back. You didn't really care for the game, you just needed to… not be alone. You and Robin had plans to go to her place after the game and watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the tenth time in the last few months so you could get Eddie out of your head. Before the game started, you watched as Chrissy and the other cheerleaders danced and jumped around the gym and couldn't help it when your eyes flooded up with tears again. As you tried to get yourself together, you felt Robin's hand on your shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah just… fuck, I can't even hate her, she's the sweetest girl on the cheer squad."

Before Robin could say anything, everyone was standing up for the national anthem. And then you saw Tammy Thompson walking towards the mic to SING the national anthem. You held back laughter as you looked at Robin and then turned around to look at Steve, both of their jaws dropped.

"No way." Robin muttered, as she took turns looking at you, Tammy and Steve, not knowing exactly where to look at. As Tammy started to sing, you felt your eyes flood again, but this time, it was not because of Eddie or the thought of him with Chrissy, but because you were trying so hard not to laugh. She sounded exactly like a muppet.

"Oh my god I want to rip my ears out" you manage to let out without bursting into laughter.

"I told you. Muppet." you could see Steve mouthing over to Robin.

"Okay, she does sound like a muppet." Robin admits.

"Oh my god she does kinda sound like a muppet" you hear Vicky say in a low voice.

You watch as Robin and Vicky laugh at each other's jokes, until Robin lets her ADHD get the best out of her and starts talking faster than her brain's working. Even though she talks too fast sometimes, you think it's cute how she gets nervous around Vicky. They would make such a cute couple. 

After the game, you approach Lucas, giving him a tight hug. 

"That was absolutely crazy, Lucas! You just took the ball and threw it like it was nothing and then we were like 'oh god is he gonna score?' and then you DID i swear i don't think I'll ever understand how you did that so quickly, like you just-" Robin rambled, as she held her hands up, like she was tossing a basketball through the hoop. 

"That was insane, man. Really, you're a natural." Steve said like the proud mama he is to the kids. 

"Thanks guys. I-" Lucas started, but you heard someone call out to him.

"Hey Sinclair, you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" he yelled back. "Look guys, I gotta go. But thank you so much for coming. It meant a lot to me."

The three of you smiled as he left to follow after whoever it was that called him. After a second, Robin turned to Steve.

"Hey, where's Heidi?"

"That's Brenda, Robin."

"Yeah, sure, sorry. Where's Brenda?"

"She uh…" he looked back at the crowd leaving the gym, like he was looking for someone. "She ditched me, okay? She left to talk to Tammy Thompson and then came back to tell me she was going to Tammy's to catch up or something like that."

"Ouch, ditched for Tammy Thompson?" Robin said, following Steve as he started to walk back to his car.

"Again?" you look over at Robin, the both of you laughing — not in a mean way, but playful, like the three of you always were.

"Ha ha, very funny." Steve bites back, sarcastic. "Any more jokes and the two of you are walking home."

As you walk over to Steve's car, you watch as Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire Club emerge from the drama club room, victorious. He waves at you, but you pretend you don't see it, turning over to Dustin, who's walking up to you.

"Hey, can I join you guys? Eddie said he's gotta go straight to his place tonight, so he can't drive me home."

"Steve's dropping us at Robin's, I'm spending the night out. But maybe Nancy can take you home?" 

"Oh, okay. Sure, I'll talk to Mike. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow. Night, Dusty!" you give him a hug and kiss the top of his head, watching as he runs off to catch up to Mike.

You turn around to Robin and Steve, puzzled look on your face. Eddie always takes Dustin home after Hellfire, why couldn't he take him home tonight?

You get in Steve's car and you exit the school's parking lot. You see Eddie's van a little ahead out the parking lot, where he always parks when he's doing a deal or up to something shady. As Steve drives past the van, you see Eddie holding the door open for Chrissy to hop in.

"What the fuck?" you say, maybe a little louder than you intended.

Steve and Robin turn to look at the direction your eyes were headed, also looking at Eddie as he closes the passenger door and Chrissy turns to reach for the seatbelt (and you think to yourself she probably won't find the seatbelt, because Eddie's van has no seatbelts).

"Oh shit." Robin mutters as she turns her head back to look at the van, now behind Steve's moving car.

"Hey uh…" Steve tries to get your attention. "don't- try not to think too much about it, it's probab-"

"I wanna go home." you cut him off.

"You sure?" Robin asks. "I already have the Rocky Horror VHS with me, we can watch Blade Runner too, I forgot to take it back to the store last week and I know you love it so maybe-"

"Please just-" you cut her off too. "I wanna go home. Please, take me home." you can feel your voice trembling and tears already running down your cheeks.

"Okay, it's okay." Steve talks in a soft voice, trying to calm you down. "We'll take you home."

The ride to your house is awkwardly silent, but you don't really care enough to be bothered by it. Your head hurts and your heart sinks to your stomach at the thought of Eddie taking Chrissy home. Not only because of your feelings for him (though, mostly because of it), but also because Chrissy is Jason's girlfriend. You know what Jason would do to Eddie if he finds out about this. It wouldn't be the first time Eddie gets beaten up by Jason and the rest of his party, and even though Eddie always came back laughing about his black eye, spitting blood and limping, you knew he'd spend the next few nights sleeping at the back of his van, so Wayne doesn't see him covered in bruises — so Wayne doesn't see him looking the same way he looked when his father dropped him off at the trailer and never came back to pick him up. You know he can take care of himself, you know he's strong enough to throw a punch or two, but  you couldn't stand the thought of him spending his days alone at the back of his van, not being able to see anyone because school was off. The whole situation made your heart ache.

As Steve pulls over in front of your house, you feel two pairs of eyes on you.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Robin asks, concerned.

"I'll be fine. I just need a little time, that's all. Thank you guys, for taking care of me. Sorry about the buzzkill. Get home safe, okay? I love you." you opened the door and climbed out of the car.

"We love you too. Call us if you need anything, yeah?" Steve says leaning over the car window.

"I will, I promise."

You open the door, hoping aunt Claudia was already asleep and that Dustin wasn't home yet. You tiptoe your way to your room and close the door, throwing yourself at the bed, not even bothering changing into your pajamas. Stuffing your face in your pillow, you cry yourself to sleep, hoping it was all a bad dream, but knowing it wasn't.

[fluffytriceratops]

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔]

Notes: the gif makes me think of the "i got it" moment between Mike and Leo. You'll understand when you read it. My writing is rusty and this is unedited because I'm lazy, so it might be shit. :D Possibly part one? I might write a part two- idk yet. I was in the mood for angst and this has been sitting in my drafts for literally ages so I figured I'd finish it up and post it since it's also been ages since I've posted a TMNT imagine! ALSO- REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN! If you would like to submit a request, please do so via asks, and please read my rules on my blog before hand, thank you! &lt;33

Warnings: mature language, ANGST, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol, mental/emotional abuse, mentions of depression, brief mentions of self harm, etc.

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @drowninghell @squirrelfurs @lec743 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @bibiz82 @raphslovemuffin80 @raphielover @tmntspidergirl

(If you would like to be tagged in my future TMNT realted posts (let me know if you want just reader insert stuff or if you want OC related content included) feel free to lemme know and I'll happily add you!)

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day/night! Stay safe and make sure to take care of yourselves! I'm sending all the virtual hugs to you~! <3

***

Her gaze was locked onto the screen of her phone. She had opened her camera app to double check her appearance before going in, but what she saw caught her off guard. The large purple bags under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. All the weight she had lost was visible in her face alone, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it under baggy clothes. She didn't need anyone worrying about her. She could take care of herself... Y/n knew she hadn't been sleeping well. Not at all, actually. The only time she got the chance to get some rest was when she passed out from sheer exhaustion. Was it unhealthy? Oh absolutely. But she couldn't help herself. It didn't help that she worked two jobs. Ever since her father got fired, she was the one who had to keep everyone afloat. It was driving her mad.

Taking in a shaky breath, she shoved her phone back into her sweater's pocket and began to walk the rest of the way to the lair. It wasn't far. It didn't take long at all for her to get there. Once she stepped inside, she was greeted by the smell of pizza. Her stomach turned and she felt nauseous immediately. Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had gone on a diet. Not yet, anyway. Nor did she tell them she had stopped eating much at all. She was fine, they didn't need to know.

Y/n tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, she took in another shaky breath before walking up to where they were. Their voices were loud and expressive. Raphael let out a bark of laughter, slapping Mikey on the shell in amusement. Leo was busy talking with April, and Casey was stuck chatting with Vern. It was Donatello who had noticed her first. "Hey, Y/n! We were starting to think you wouldn't make it!" He greeted with a cheerful smile.

She tried not to flinch under their sudden gazes. Pulling her lip between her teeth anxiously. God, she felt like vomiting. She needed to leave. "Yeah! You're late dude! What took you so long!?" Michelangelo whined, walking over and moving to sling an arm across her shoulders. She ducked under him before he got the chance.

"N-Nothing, really. Just took my time." Y/n shrugged, shuffling over towards the rest of them hurriedly. She had been dodging their embraces recently, and they were starting to notice. Mikey pursed his lips in a pout, missing the skeptic look on his brother's faces. They had all been brushing off her behavior, but this had been going on for what felt like forever. She was starting to look worse each time they saw her. There was one turtle who knew more than the other's. One who had suspected something was off a lot sooner than everyone else. Leonardo watched Y/n closely. Blue eyes practically glued to her.

"What kind of pizza would you like? We got meat lovers, cheese, veggie-" she cut Donnie off. "None, thanks. I'm uh, dieting." She shrugged, rocking on the balls of her feet nervously. Y/n could feel his eyes boring into her. Her heart rate increased rapidly. Pounding against her rib cage in a desperate plea to flea. Don looked at the other's briefly before turning his gaze back to the female. He nodded slowly, "Okay. Um, would you like something else?" Y/n's hands tightened in her pockets, curling into fists. She simply shook her head. "No thanks.. Not hungry.."

The room grew oddly silent for a few beats. Vern coughed obnoxiously into his elbow just to clear the silence. Leo had yet to look away from Y/n. It made her feel more nervous than anything else. Why was he starring at her? Couldn't he look somewhere else? Just when she was about to say or do something she'd definitely regret, Casey had spoken up. "So, uh, Y/n- I saw your dad today." Her head snapped towards him in a matter of seconds. It was a wonder how she didn't get whiplash. "You did? Where?"

She sounded nervous, and the other's picked up on it immediately. Raph and Donnie caught each other's gaze before the red clad turtle looked towards their leader. Leo was silent and observing. He stood still with his arms folded over his chest. Lips pressed into a flat line and brow ridge lightly furrowed. Raphael watched his brother closely, but his attention was moved else where as the conversation continued.

Casey, who was glad to get away from Vern, stepped forwards. Snatching himself up another slice of pizza. "Convenience store, on West Street. I was grabbing the drinks for today and bumped into him. His hand was all bandaged up, apparently he went to the ER today." He said before taking a merry bite out of the delightful pie. Y/n's gaze darkened.

Stop talking. Shut up. Don't say another word. Please. She all but begged, starring at him numbly. She knew this already. She was the one who dropped him off at the hospital. If it were possible, Y/n felt sicker than before. Her hands began to shake, she was just glad they were hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. She bit her tongue to stop from bolting. Everyone else was quiet, listening to Casey's story. Looking between the both of them as he spoke. She wanted to cry. "I know." She said, barley managing to get the words out.

Casey didn't seem to catch on. Or if he did, he continued to speak about it anyway. "So you know he put his hand through a window?" He was looking at her intensely, hell everyone was. Especially Leo. His gaze felt like fire, burning holes into her skull. She wanted to combust into flames. Right then and there.

"Yeah. Anything else." Y/n's tone grew bitter, and she couldn't help but glare at him. Hoping, praying, that he would just drop it and leave her alone. Casey ignored her. "Well, I know it's your mom's birthday. And I know it's been hard for the both of you. So y'know, we just wanted to check in." He gestured towards all of them, and she barley managed to peek towards them. Had they been talking about her?

"Casey-" April warned, shaking her head subtly at him. Either he didn't see it, or he ignored her as well. "And he was very charming. But he seemed kind of sad. I'd hate to see it happen again, so maybe you should keep a better eye on him." Was he serious? He couldn't be fucking serious, right? Y/n felt like she had swallowed cotton balls. Her nails punctured her skin and she igno red the light stinging. She was staring at a random crumb on the table. Gazing at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Completely and utterly silent.

Leo's arms unfolded and he took a step towards her, but she quickly turned her gaze back to Casey. "Everyday is my mother's birthday.." She started, gaze icy, voice venomous. Leo stopped in his tracks, everyone was looking at her, but she focused on Casey solely. "My mother was born in December. He lied. He's a liar." Tears glazed at the corners of her eyes but she's refused to let them fall. Voice rising in anger.

"And I'm glad- really, I'm glad that you found him charming. I'm sure he was delightful. He's a blast after five drinks. Not so much after nine though, he get's a little weepy and mean." Mikey's eyes widened and he looked towards his older brother's worriedly. She hadn't uttered a word of this before, it was the first time anyone was hearing it. Leo's jaw clenched but she hadn't noticed it. Too busy focusing all her pent up anger on Casey. "He's a drunk. He probably came in and told you how wonderful you are. How he wished he could have a son like you. And how sad he is because he doesn't get to spend more time with me." She hadn't meant to cry, but the tears had started to slip down her pale cheeks. Y/n wiped at them angrily.

Casey stood there in shock, taking in her angry words carefully. He didn't dare say anything, all he did was look at her and take it. "Yesterday he said that I was his favorite daughter. The day before, I was an ungrateful bitch. The week before- he wrote me a check fortwenty thousand dollarsbecause he said I deserved everything life had to offer. Because he was so proud of me. A lifetimes worth of proud..." her voice cracked and her bottom lip trembled. Y/n looked down, forcing her hair to partially hide her face. She tried to collect herself as she wiped at her tears with her sleeve. "You can't listen to a word that man says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is about as many bottles as he can stomach before he either vomits it up or passes out."

"But thank you for telling me to keep a better eye on him." Y/n shook her head and turned on her heal. Storming out of the room and out of the lair altogether. She was tired of all this bullshit.

"Y/n! Wait!" Mikey moved to go after her but Leo clamped a hand down onto his shoulder. "I got it..." He muttered, casting an annoyed glance at Casey from over his shoulder before he chased after the h/c female.

"Well that was a train wreck." Vern muttered, wincing at the glare Casey shot in his direction. "How was I supposed to know." He hissed. "It's not like Y/n's a very open person."

"We all knew something was up, I'm sure Casey just wanted to make sure she was okay." April said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Case smiled at her briefly in thanks.

"I wish she would have said something..." Donnie whispered, twiddling his 'thumbs' nervously. "Maybe we could have helped her somehow."

"Y/n's stubborn. She doesn't wanna rely on anyone else. She doesn't wanna be a burden." Raph grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "Still. I wish she would lean on us a little more. I'd like ta give her father a piece of my mind." He huffed.

Michelangelo's lips pulled into a frown. "You.. You don't think he hits her, do you?" The room fell silent, and everyone turned their gazes towards the area she had left.

"Leo'll make sure she's okay." Don spoke quietly, hands clenching each other desperately.

━

She knew he was following her. But he didn't approach. Not in the sewers, and not outside of them, either. He was waiting for the right time. Giving her a chance to cool off. If anything, the fact that Leo had come after her only pissed Y/n off more. She didn't want to get a lecture from him. She didn't want to rant. She wanted to lay in bed and cry. And she wanted to do it alone.

Y/n managed to hold herself together pretty well. She only let a few tears and sniffles slip out on her way back home. She lived in a sketchy part of the city in a small and dinky apartment. It was her, her two sisters Lucy and Amelia, and their father. Her mother had died a few years back. Her father was never the same after that. He ended up losing the job he had since before he met his wife. He couldn't keep a job afterwards, either. And he started drinking. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol. Any little bit of money he made went straight into alcohol. Lucy was the youngest, she had yet to start high school. Amelia was the oldest. She spent most of her time at her home with her fiance and their newborn son. She couldn't stand to even look at their father. She refused to see him. They always fought, too. Amelia wanted to take Y/n and Lucy with her, but Lucy was in custody of their father. And Y/n refused to leave him to rot.

Y/n's keys jingled as she pulled them from her pocket and jammed them into the deadbolt on the door of her apartment. She knew Leo would already be inside when she entered. And if not, then he was waiting on her fire escape.

The door slammed shut behind her, she kicked her shoes off by the door and walked further inside. There was no sight of her father, so he must be out. Most likely at the bar down the street. It was within walking distance and it was the weekend. There was no way he wouldn't be there. Lucy was sleeping over at Amelia's for the weekend, which meant she was home alone.

The thought would have been extremely comforting had Leonardo not been lurking around the corner.

She passed through the kitchen and walked down the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. Amelia's old room was first, it was completely empty now. Y/n shared a room with Lucy. She was supposed to move into Amelia's room after Amelia moved out, but Lucy didn't feel safe alone. And it wasn't just her father making her feel that way. Y/n was comforting to her. Knowing she was sleeping in the same room kept her calm. Their father's room was the last one. The door was always closed. No one was ever allowed in. He slept on the couch more than his own bed.

The second Y/n pushed her bedroom door open she saw Leonardo standing at the foot of her bed. Patiently waiting for her.

Y/n's gaze hardened, but she said nothing. She kicked the door shut behind her and walked past him to her desk. She needed to do something. Anything. She just needed to keep busy. So she started to organize her college assingments.

Leo remained quiet, simply watching her. After a few minutes of Y/n shuffling papers and slamming drawers he opened his mouth. "Y/n."

"Don't." She snapped, tensing at the sound of his voice.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say..." He breathed, blue; blue eyes glued to her. Scared that if he looked away she would crack and break into a million pieces.

"I don't want you to say anything." She mumbled, voice strained. Her movements had seized. She simply stood there, back facing him. Honestly she was afraid that if she turned and caught sight of his ocean colored eyes, she'd burst.

The room grew quiet again. Y/n knew he was looking at her. She could feel his intense gaze plastered to her back. Studying every small movement she made. The light tremble of her hands. The slight shaking of her shoulders. The wobbling of her knees. Y/n tried to hold herself together. Keep the tears at bay. It was a fools wish.

She could feel his presence. Feel him walking closer. Till he was just a few meesly inches away from her. Leo was so close she knew if she took the tiniest of steps backward his chest would connect with her back. His hand grazed her arm and she broke the silence with a sharp inhale.

And she crumbled.

Tears blurred her vision as she gasped out a shuddering sob. A sob that shook her entire body. One that stole the breath from her lungs and broke her heart into millions of microscopic pieces. She collapsed against him and he held her tightly against his plastron. Strong arms hooking around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

Leonardo said nothing as she cried. It wasn't the first time she cried in his arms. And it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Nothing was said or done. Neither of them moved. He just held her tight as she let out everything she had been holding in. By the time her cries had quieted, and tears dried on her skin. The sun had started to set. Basking the room in its warm fading glow through the window. Painting the two of them in a lovely array of yellows, oranges, and pinks.

Leo slowly turned Y/n around. Even when she was crying, she was utterly beautiful. Achingly so. He placed his hand under her chin and slowly tilted her red face upwards. Her e/c dewy eyes met his own. There was no longer a wall between them. He had managed to break it down in a matter of seconds. And now, all her pain was visible to him in her eyes.

There was a reason they say eyes are the windows to the soul.

Leo had built his own wall. One he kept up at all times. Around everyone. Everyone except her.

No words needed to be expressed between either of them. They already knew exactly how the other was feeling. With one simple glance. That's all it took. All it ever took.

Leonardo leaned down instinctevly, slowly and cautiously. Waiting and watching to see if she would pull away. Y/n never did. Instead, she slowly and hesitantly moved closer. That's when their lips connected.

A soft and deseperate kiss was shared. He held her face delicately, as if she would crumble into dust in his arms. Y/n clutched at him desperately, afraid he'd see how truly broken and damaged she was and pull away. Leo wasn't going anywhere. Something he told her with his lips as he peppered her skin with kisses. And when he reached her mouth again, he kissed her hard. He poured his soul into her. She drank him up.

As they parted for air. Y/n gasping for a whole other reason. He grabbed her hand and pressed a few more tender kisses to her knuckles. Eyes locked. Chests heaving. Hearts pounding.

Their souls danced the same.

"You don't have to hide around me. There's no need to barricade your feelings anymore." Leo whispered, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. "You can show me the darkest and scariest parts of yourself. I'm not going anywhere."

A few more tears slid down her tender red cheeks. They caught the light of the sun and shone like tiny falling stars. He brushed them away with his lips.

"Even if I'm destined to crumble into nothing?" Y/n breathed, placing her hand on his chest. Fingertips tracing the markings engraved into his plastron from years of battle and training.

"Even if you're destined to crumble into nothing." Leo whispered, pressing a loving kiss to each rosey cheek. "I'll always be here. Right here. In your arms, where I belong."

[gravesung]

*  ANSWER  TWENTY - ONE  QUESTIONS  ! some questions may be ‘ ??? ‘ instead of answered.

01.    NICKNAME  :  raine 02.    REAL  NAME  : emma 03.    ZODIAC  : gemini 04.    HEIGHT  : 5′9′’ 05.    WHAT  TIME  IS  IT  ?  : 10:54 am. 06.    FAVOURITE  MUSICIANS  /  GROUPS  :  lately it's been hoz.ier, air traffic controller, hal.sey (thanks hol), brick + mortar, the neighbourhood, zack hemsey (underrated, listen to him), and then just 100000 other artists that i only know 1-2 songs by because of character playlists 07.    FAVOURITE  SPORTS  TEAM  : uhh hh h (sweats) the sportsball sportsballers (nodding. i'm so cool and know a single thing about sp 08.    OTHER  BLOGS  :  @/huntershowl, my main blog! beloved oc, writing whom has changed my life in so many ways! also elizabeth bioshock at @/cewyll but the activity there is super low rn. she sleebin. once dragon age comes out she'll wake back up 09.    DO  I  GET  ASKS  ?  : HAHA. (TAKES A LOGN DRAG OF A CIGARETTE) bOY DO I MISS GETTING NICE ONES 10.    HOW  MANY  BLOGS  DO  I  FOLLOW  ?  : 133 (wow? goddamn) 11.    ANY  TUMBLR  CRUSHES  :  oo. i haven't been here super long (since The Resurgence at least) & pre-anime boy takeover this blog was more just a friends-only sandbox zone, so i don't do a lot of outreach still. —but also, who are we kidding, yes 100%: @vzmky's geto portrayal & art has me in shambles. same goes for @brazenlystrong, ur art and portrayal is so [chef kiss]??? (& lbr you two are a package deal SDHSKJDH) —@sasouken we've only written together a little bit so far, but i'm already like !!! EEE whenever i see a message or reply from u. such an honor honestly. —also silly but needs to be said, despite literally being mains @chaoslulled is STILL fuckin awe inspiring in every way. i still get a little thrill when i see ur replies AND I DO STILL READ EVERY ONE THREE TIMES 12.    LUCKY  NUMBER  : 4 (thanks artemis fowl) 13.    WHAT  AM  I  WEARING  RIGHT  NOW  : pjs... though im about to change into some kinda cuteass fall outfit for a walk outside & the gym 14.    DREAM  VACATION  : prollyyyyyy italy to visit mine papá... although tokyo & amsterdam sound very fun too i just love cities 15.    DREAM  CAR  : a solid public transport system 16.    FAVOURITE  FOOD  :  curry. any kind of curry 17.    DRINK  OF  CHOICE  : coffee (flat cappuccino or just drip w/ cream), spicy black teas (dont get me started ill talk forever), or if we're talking alcohol, i always gravitate toward floral gin drinks 18.    LANGUAGES  :  english but i am learning welsh for fun. at some point i GOTTA start learning italian but i'm putting it off because i'm lazy 19.    INSTRUMENTS  :  cello & piano, a ttteeeeeeeny bit of guitar, took vocal lessons for a while, but honestly cello is my main bitch forever and ever 20.    CELEBRITY  CRUSHES  :  c.ate blanchett, d.aniel henney, k.eanu reeves, j.anelle monae, k.ing princess, uhhh kaoru kobayashi has real hot scarred dad vibes in midnight diner (this answer has not changed since 2019 when i last did it) 21.    RANDOM  FACT  : i just started an art mentorship!! gonna be commissioned a custom mural (themed on isolation, there will be hellhound & lighthouse themes involved most likely lbr) & later this fall, doing some inking for a mecha comic under guidance of a local artist i admire so much. it's gonna take an entire year but i'm so excited about it, especially because i want to eventually make my own webcomic/GN about mx houndcreature eventually (soonish) 

TAGGED   BY  :  thiefed it.

TAGGING  :  y'all know by now that i barely have enough confidence to tag the earlier ppl. THIEF IT. TAG ME SO I CAN SEE. but also @tewwor because you tagged me in this 5 yrs ago

[akookminsupporter]

Hi, again.

I didn't want to put this in the other post but, what the hell is going on on this side of the fandom?

Although I haven't been checking my blog, I did check some tags yesterday for the first time in a long time and my god, the things I found out were insane.

As a result, I decided to make my list of who I follow even smaller. Fortunately and unfortunately I don't follow many blogs and I don't interact/talk via DM with many of them so I've been able to stay away from a lot of the drama I've seen happen almost daily in this community or part of the fandom. It's kind of sad the things I read. That's why I made some decisions on my blog and I've been thinking about others that I will implement little by little.

My social life is non-existent so I realized how much I appreciate having this blog and how much I miss it. Some might say that's not healthy but well, that's a conversation you won't have with me.

I saw and mostly read some things I want to talk about, concerning everything that has happened lately but I think I will do that later this week.

While I was checking several Asks I also saw an Ask that was sent to another blog where they accused me that I had basically stolen the translation I did of one of Joon's interviews in Spain and I want to tell you that's a lie. I am always respectful in giving credit to the photos, videos, edits and translations that I post on my blog and I have no problem with that. The translations of Joon's interviews were done by me because maybe some of you don't know but my first language is Spanish. I live in a South American country. If the translations are similar it makes sense, translating from Spanish to English is relatively easy and it makes sense that they are similar, especially if the people doing the translations understand both languages well. I just wanted to clear that up.

I'm going to come back gradually and I'm going to try to manage my time on the blog better. One thing I also realised is that I spend a lot of time here and I want to change that a bit. I guess I want to have a healthier relationship with my blog. And with everything about it. Currently, I don't have Asks in my Inbox so I don't have anything pending but I will try to do a post giving my opinion and point of view -that nobody asked for- about some things, in the next few days.

In the meantime, keep streaming FACE and People Pt. 2.

[a-photo-of-a-cryptid]

hello i would like to hear about your silly guys , uhhh. whoever you've got on your mind right now :3

UGH AHH SORY I DIDN'T GET TO THIS ASK RIGHT AWAY I WANTED TO DO ART FOR IT AND TRIED SOMETHING BUT I CAN'T CAUSE MY DRAWING PAD IS BROKEN!!

All that to say!! Thank you for the ask!! I will write a long ass rant below the cut!!

So the main OC on my mind lately has been Pinwheel from 'The Smile Hotel' an original storey of mine (rest in peace old smile hotel blog I will miss you)

He's a silly goober for sure.

Some notes on his design and overall character because thats whats been in my head lately :333

he is an ASSHOLE!! AN ASSHOLE!!! But I love using deceiving shape language in designs, circle characters are generally warm and genuine, while pinwheel is quite the oppisite

He's gone through a couple of retcons, but this design is the one I'm most happy with at the moment, the full length cloak is too hard to work around

His eyes can emote like- a cartoonish amount, like being shapes such as starts or $'s when the situation calls for it

Removing the mouth from this design as it adds too much conflict for the vibe i'm going for with them

He's a ginger cat with some darker spots

Need to mess around with colours a bit to get the finished design

the poncho he is wearing does cover his head, and it is definitely not pretty underneath

He is the same species of creature as one of my other oc's 'bingle' who I made the below GIF of

Bingle is the species form in like, the 'baby' form which looks like a regular cat until it doesn't,

He has the garfeild thing where you never know if he's talking or thinking but you can hear him and you can't make him go away

Got the liqiud cat biology and can squeeze and fit into impossible spaces, as long as he wants to

Augh thats a lot of writing!! Thank you for reading!!

[queenharumiura]

I hope I am not writing late. I noticed that someone was talking about Neo hours. Since I had work last week so hard and worked 13 hour days for the past three days, I obviously missed a lot, although I always try to check Tumblr. X_X Anyway, I'm here to tell you that I'm glad to meet you and that we can write. I'll tell it like it is, Akira Amano is nothing compared to what you did with the Haru development. I admire roleplayers who breathe a soul into the muse and develop it even more than in the canon. That's when the portrayal is unique and yours is.

I also appreciate your patience. I know that we don't always understand each other because of the language barrier, I appreciate it all the more that you didn't give up on me. Others would have given up long ago.

Since I found out that you also have a second blog, I love the portrayals of your other muses as well. Your Yamamoto is amazing, but it's possible that I'm biased because Squaletta… um… Haha.

I'm also reading your Hibari and when my muse Tsuna comes back I believe we could roleplay together.

I really enjoy interacting with you, even though I'm a slow replier and you're waiting for me. You are cute bean!

I have to comment on your Varia!Haru, which my Squaletta has a special bond with. I know we've only been roleplaying for a short time, but I can't describe it, I feel like Squaletta has soft spot on her. Everyone likes Haru. Even the bitch Squaletta. XD

I am a big fan of yours and I feel accepted in the KHR community thanks to you. You have helped me many times and I just know that when I write to you, it's okay. I don't know if I've ever felt so good in a roleplay community. I think the feeling you get with someone when you write with them is important. I feel very good with you. ♥

[Original] ||Accepting|| @squaletta

Memes on my blog don’t expire so you can never be late, only on time~ Oof, sorry to hear about those 13 hour days, that’s rough. //pat pats you

Thank you very much for all the kind words! I always enjoy to hear that people enjoy the development that I’ve given Haru and that they enjoy a AU version of Haru that I’m writing. I just love crafting different Aus so it brings me joy when someone enjoys what I’ve crafted. I’m glad that Squaletta likes my Varia Haru, as does she appreciate and like your Squaletta!

Ehehe glad that you enjoy the Yamamoto, he’s really starting to grow on me as a muse (as evidenced by the newest arts). Ye! Whenever Tsuna comes back, I’m more than willing to beg wake Hibari to interact! He’s my temperamental hibernating bean. (sigh)

I also enjoy writing with you! I’ve said it many times, but I think it’s fascinating the way you’ve crafted the female versions of your muses. Different, but still have the vibe of the male counterparts. Different enough to be fascinating and engaging, but similar enough to be recognizable as well. It’s very fun writing with you. Always well worth the wait. 0w0

Glad that you feel nice when writing with me! Likewise!

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Match Me if You Can by Swati Hegde

3.5/5. Releases 6/4/24.

Vibes: Emma, heroines who gotta learn, slow burn, friends to lovers

Heat Level: 2/10

Mumbai-based Jia spends her days writing silly listicles for women's magazine Mimosa. On her off time, however, she works on her anonymous blog, giving what she thinks is very real talk... even if she's in denial about her own true feelings. She wants to get upgraded to a new column--but the only way she can is by helping her coworker find love. Thing is, Jia herself doesn't even realize that her longtime family friend Jaiman has a thing for her. Maybe... more than a thing.

Alright--if you're at all familiar with Jane Austen's Emma, I'm sure you can tell that this is an Emma retelling. I've actually been seeing a lot of Emma retellings lately; but that's not a bad thing for me, as Emma is by far my favorite Austen.

The skinny on this one is that, at least from my perspective it's very cute and well-written. It's a romcom with wit, and there's certainly a lot of chemistry between Jia and Jaiman. I love the setting (it's shockingly rare to find an English-language romcom novel that isn't set in America, and even harder to find one set in India). I enjoy the tone. It's not reinventing the wheel; it goes in the directions that a lot of Emma retellings do. For me, too... I don't mind that it was closed door, per se. However, there were moments cut off in a way that left me thinking "but why?"

The answer is that it was the author's prerogative, and that's valid. I just feel like we were kind of left in a place where there was teasing--and if there wasn't going to be anything, why tease, I suppose?

But nonetheless--if you want a light, fluffy romcom that happens to be closed door, and if you love Emma, I would recommend this.

Quick Takes:

--One way in which this book differs from Emma and that Jia and Jaiman have what I'll call a near-miss about a year prior to the novel's beginning. To me, this was really clever. First off, it swerves away from the typical Emma setup, adding a little tension that I really appreciated. Second, it makes Jia a more interestingly human character, to me. She knows there's this tension, she knows there's something between herself and Jaiman, she just doesn't want to confront it.

--Personally, I think modern Emma retellings arguably work better in a setting wherein matchmaking is still a thing. Jia is nothing if not a consummate matchmaker, and I feel like this plays so well in a book set in Mumbai, where matchmaking is a feasible career (not that it can't be in the west--but it's less common, obviously).

--Like I said: this is a slow burn. Jia and Jaiman have known each other since childhood. Feelings have been there for a long time. So while I understood, and to an extent I mean, it's there in the material... I just wanted them to kiss. I wanted something to happen. Although the book is closed door, that doesn't mean they can't get together earlier in the novel (I'm thinking of a closed door romance by Alexis Hall that I enjoyed not so long ago). It did drag a bit for me.

And ultimately, for all the theoretical tension, that lack of interaction in a romantic sense did keep it from going as far as it could have. I don't mean sexually--I mean as a love story.

That being said--if you're not sure about sex scenes, if you like a slow burn, and you want an Austen update that makes sense... This could be great for you!

Thanks to NetGalley and Dell for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 11: Basque-ing in Nature

Hola a todxs! Niko here, back again with week 11 (writing this during week 12 oops [I had a huge databases project that I grinded on all of last week, expect a double blog week soon]) of studying abroad in Madrid!! I’ve got a little over a month and a half left in Madrid. Near the beginning of the semester, I mentioned a VSauce video about time that I enjoyed a lot. Recently in my culture class, we discussed the same concepts. Upon reflection, I think that I’m experiencing time in an incredibly ideal way.

What do I mean? Time flies by fast. It feels like weeks go by in the blink of an eye. Last week, what seems like yesterday, it was March, and now we’re already halfway through April. Time flies when you’re having fun, and I think that much is true. I’m having a blast, experiencing a new world every week, and as a consequence, I’m not thinking about time as it passes. It doesn’t drag; It goes by quickly. 

But I’m still in lecture every week. And two of my classes (the engineering ones) are oftentimes unbearably boring. I feel time pass when I’m sitting in those chairs waiting for the time to go home. My life during the week is simple: go to class, cook meals, go to cafes to study. But on the weekends, I’m traveling across Spain and Europe, meeting new people, partying, the list goes on. So it’s kind of like a long-short time sandwich. I get to experience time dragging on in the moment, and I also get to experience it flying by. And, because the exciting experiences happen regularly and frequently, weekends fill up huge blocks in my memories that make it feel like I’ve been here for years. I would say that “it feels like just yesterday that I stepped foot off the plane” but no, it really doesn’t. It feels like an eternity ago, truly. 

So, I’m kind of milking time for nearly all that it’s worth, which I think is a W. We’ve only got so much of it in this life. Anyways, there goes my bi-monthly rant on time. Hopefully it didn’t drag on too much. Or hopefully it did. Or both. 🙂

Anyways, last weekend, I learned a very important lesson. Two of my roommates (Eli, Max) and a close friend (Jack) rented a car (#JeepTrailhawk) and took a trip up to Northern Spain (Please don't mind the terribly cheesy title), splitting our time between Basque cities and Spain’s best national park. The lesson? As much as I love cities — incredible amalgamations of culture, humanity and energy — I’ll never experience the same type of awe and amazement looking out over a skyline as I do gazing upon a range of staggeringly huge snow capped mountains. Let’s talk about the trip:

Gatzetelugatxwho?

We set out from Madrid late Thursday evening. After a short-lived yet intense fiasco with google maps sending us in a couple of loops around Madrid after someone (the driver) (Max) missed a couple of turns, we were on the highway headed North. We had about 4 hours of driving until we reached Bilbao, where we had rented an Airbnb for the night. It was a pretty drive — Madrid is surrounded by a beautiful Sierra not even 30 minutes outside of the center. We arrived at our Airbnb (which was situated in a weird liminal space-ish neighborhood) and crashed, ready to tackle the morning task: Gatztelugatxe.

Huh? Yes, I was as confused as you probably are the first time I read that word. Especially the tx, which is pronounced as ch in Euskera, the mysterious language of the Basque people that has no known origin or connection to any modern tongue. It looks and sounds weird, and in the Basque country you’ll see it everywhere. It almost feels like it could have been spoken in some far off kingdom in Game of Thrones. 

Speaking of, we went to Dragonstone, AKA Gatztelugatxe. Shout out whoever the location scout was for those scenes, because they absolutely killed it. The site was beautiful, and I think the pictures will speak for themselves.

After that, we drove a few more hours to San Sebastian and explored. The energy was incredible. Sunny weather, beautiful city side beach, Burnt Basque cheesecake, calming sunset and delicious food (pintxos = tapas in Euskera!). There’s not much more that I can say other than the fact that simply walking around and taking it all in was an absolute joy. 

We proceeded to drive 4 hours west that evening to our second stop of the weekend: Picos de Europa national park (driving quickly through Bilbao, which has a really cool modern architectural style). We arrived at our Airbnb in the pitch black around 12 am, stumbled our way inside, cooked a comically oversized dinner (1.5 kg of pasta is too much for 4 people btw) and prepared for our big hike the next day.

The Hike

We woke up bright and early (it was like 10am) Saturday morning, ready for the 7.5 mile, 3000 foot climb ahead of us. I’d done a 13 miler with a similar increase in elevation once before in the Texan desert (Marufo Vega trail in Big Bend, highly recommend), so I wasn’t too concerned with the difficulty — only with whether we picked a worthwhile trail. I was silly for underestimating “Lon - Río Burón - Peña de Mañimoco”.

We started by driving into a tiny town in the national park, parking on the side of the road and setting off into a dirt trail that winded shallowly up the mountain. At this point, I was unimpressed. Most of our view of the mountain ahead of us was blocked by trees, and the path felt too well kept to be the basis of the true rugged backcountry experience I desired. Jokingly, we pointed to the top of the mountain we were hiking towards when we got to a clearing, asking damn, wouldn’t it be crazy if we went up there.

Yeah, it would have been crazy, but I guess 3000 feet is not to be underestimated, especially if you start at 1000. The paved trail split off into a smaller one once we broke through the treeline, which split off into a gravel shoot winding up the ridge of the mountain we had joked about a mile or two earlier. The wind started picking up, threatening to throw us off the mountain at any second as we climbed higher and higher (it was seriously intense wind. Jumping up, we actually caught a little extra airtime).

Each switchback revealed a view of the mountain and the valley below that was more stunning than the last. We passed through a huge diversity of different terrains, each so distinct they felt like Minecraft biomes stitched together. We even happened upon a herd of domesticated cows (which we were terrified of passing out of fear that they would attempt to butt us off the face of the mountain... we thought they were wild at first). At one point, we came across a meadow that looked like it came straight out of a studio Ghibli movie. We quite literally frolicked in the grass as another hiker (the only other person we saw on the trail) watched us from behind a tree, hiding from the wind. We talked to that guy later, we called him the Wind Wizard.

On this hike, I felt something reminiscent of the feeling I got as a 6 year old playing imagination games in the basement of my childhood home — unashamedly wide-eyed excitement. Looking out over the Picos de Europa (literally, the peaks of Europe) I couldn’t help but smile. This is the feeling I mentioned at the beginning of this blog that I think I can only experience whilst totally immersed in nature. At its core, it’s rooted in mindfulness and gratitude for the present moment -- something that I try to practice as much as possible in my everyday life. 

However, the reason this trip ended up being one of my favorites I’ve taken so far wasn’t just for the things that I saw — it was for the people that I spent it with. As much as I enjoy the independence and exploration of solo-traveling, I think that experiencing new things with trusted friends will almost always be more enjoyable. Being rooted in that feeling of wonder with others makes it feel more exciting, more significant, more real — both while it’s happening, and in the memories that stay with us forever. 

We finished the hike with a steep decline down the mountain and ended up back at the car, where we drove into the larger town and got some drinks at a local cafe (where they had original craft beers on tap, and where I tasted the best Vermouth I've ever had). We left our airbnb early the next morning, but not before buying a block of cheese from the local Queseria (which was also absolutely fire). En fin, this was one of the most beautiful and rewarding hikes I've ever done, rivaled only by the aforementioned Marufo Vega. I think we chose well!

So, my key takeaways from this trip? Nature is awesome, and so is experiencing it (and life in general) with other people. At the end of the day, we’re just really smart animals who evolved (in nature) to be biased towards social behavior, so I guess that makes sense (#evolutionarypsychology?). I’ll be in the Bay Area this summer for an internship, and I’m really excited to go backpacking over the weekends in all of the epic nature that surrounds the area, meeting new people along the way.

Here's the itinerary list for this week's trip:

Basque Country Google Maps List

That’s all for this week’s blog! As always, check out the picture descriptions for a little more info. Thank you all very much for reading, and I’ll see y’all next week 🙂

Adios,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

economos@umich.edu 

[kittyrob0t]

I will type this while im still feeling pretentious

in a good way, don't get me wrong. Lately, I've been feeling an overwhelming need to learn new languages, read books again, shift the music I listen to, and simplify the clothes I wear. Albeit, this might be temporary for now, I am clinging on to this momentary idealization of a want for this lifestyle. I know at my age, it will be difficult to learn a new language, and hopeless considering it might be a barren skill to have if I'm never even going to leave the country sooner or at all. But alas, my brain has decided to do something, and I must follow. This is more and more showing up as a stage of mania and ADHD, which I will ignore, and proceed with. In the past I've always wanted to learn new things, and have always failed because I use life as an excuse to forget or even tire of doing such things. I've also always wanted to have a simpler wardrobe with better pieces but have failed as well because I always put front that I am a victim of capitalism and am not privileged enough to afford slow fashion. Hence my repetition of clothes despite having a ton of them. I no longer enjoy making coffee, I make it, but finish it in less than 10 minutes without actually savoring it. Even the process itself. Which I know sounds ludicrous but I just miss romanticizing the small bits of life as I have been eternally depressed to do so.

I started the last three months with a labor some skincare routine, I now can't seem to be bothered. And I have been in an eternal melancholy for weeks that honestly feel like months. And maybe it has been months, I don't really remember. I haven't really had a fair grasp on time since five years ago. I also have this idea of reading these blog entries in videos I want to create, but it might be too much and overwhelming, and as I'm typing this, maybe its better to keep two separate mediums for now. Especially since I haven't even started video taping anything. It's also funny how I've never talked about filming anything in the first paragraph and now I'm blabbering on about it.

As for my quietness, I am in a pit to be honest. I am currently going in no sure direction with my career and now that I have finally stepped up, am coming to a long stop, I think most probably I am. Sometimes I get sputters of ideas that maybe I should do more work on my portfolio, but I can never find the time to do it, because I always think I'm better off doing something better at that moment. And then it all gets faded out, until a desperate happening comes into my life and I think about it again, and the cycle continues. I currently am working three jobs, one full time, two part time ones that feel like the other one is in disguise. It's a lot more needy than I am, and the fact that I'm depressed doesn't help. I am also currently processing training sessions for a voice acting gig that will last for 6 months and can probably pay for 3 years of rent, for a French web company about to launch audio smut. My desperation for money has definitely made me tolerate some red flags my employer has been showing, especially the time I asked for a contract and he sent me a two-sentence PDF with two underlines for signatures, five minutes later.

Someone has also been 'managing' me, in music, and have been singing as a back up for an indie rapper that seemingly only has intense rhythmic pop in his discography. Most of our shows either has my mic set to the lowest volume; either that, or my voice is incredibly low and quiet, and in decibels the naked ear can't hear, If that's even a phrase. But even then, I still value the 500-1000 peso bills I receive after (under) performing. I seem to think I get better with each performance, but whenever I get off, I always hear the feedback that I seem to have not existed there at all. And to be honest, I don't know what to feel. But I don't feel sad at all. There's certainly a humor to it. Feels like being a ghost employee in a band, paid to be silent.

I've also some to admit that I'm terribly disappointed with how my life is going, but often forget that I am, because of the little tiny happy moments that happen in between, that when I do remember, I feel a little worse that I don't know how to tell people how miserable I am because I feel that the time has passed.

I am currently determined on being alone, as I am weighing if I truly enjoy it because I get to so many things I plan on doing, or maybe I'm just genuinely busy; or that I am just glutted with the presence of other people, and have tremendously low energy to associate myself with. Which by the way, worries me that I may seem like a bitch.

[bloodiedmedic]

For muns with multiple muses, past and present, on any blog.

Rules: Fill out the form according to which muse suits each title best. (The same muse can have multiple titles.) Repost and tag. Feel free to add more!

Filling this out for Alexis Ogata (obviously since this is Alexis’ blog) and Cassandra Cain because I’ve been thinking about my Cass lately and I miss her.

Favourite Muse: Hate to say it, but Cassandra Cain. I’ve spent so much time with her that I adore her just so much. I’m tempted to just bring her back, and see if I can get any traction with her but I already have Silco/Sevika/Jinx/Alexis soooo….I dunno that I need another muse active. But out of Alexis and Cass, it’d be Cass.

Most Character Development: Cassandra Cain just because I haven’t written Alexis for long enough. It’s possible that eventually Alexis will outpace her, buuuuut that requires actually getting more interaction going on Alexis so /shrug

Trash Muse: I really don’t know what this means really. I guess Alexis cause they really something else?

The Meme-Lord: Neither. Cass doesn’t get most memes, and Alexis was gone for 7 years give or take so they out of date with everything.

Most Likely to Start a War: Ahhhh neither? Cass hates killing, and Alexis doesn’t run at that level. I guess if I had to pick one Cassandra cause I could see her beating the hell out of the wrong person cause they a bad person, and it causing a war some how.

Worst Personality: Alexis. Sorry Alexis you are awesome, but… Cassandra has the nicer personality. She just does.

Best Singer: Alexis is the better singer. Cassandra can barely talk.

Most Attractive Muse: Matter of taste. Alexis fucks with gender as much as possible. Cassandra is really fit with lots of scars, a tight ass and small chest so… what are you into?

Biggest Heart: Ohhhh good question…. I’ma say Cassandra. She’s been through so much, and still is out here doing her best.

Falls in Love Quickest: Neither does it quickly, but maybe Cassandra because of how good she is at reading body language and telling if someone is lying or not so she responds quickly to the right person’s affections.

Most Likely to Drop Their Phone in the Toilet: Alexis. Probably while high, or drunk to be honest.

Ice Ruler: Neither is a ruler so...neither? I don’t know.

The Edgelord: oooffff….. I think Alexis. Cassandra mostly just tries to vibe, and she loves dance so I think Alexis.

Most Tragic Backstory: Both have SUCH a tragic Backstory, but I’ma say Cass takes the “prize” here because most of her stuff happened during childhood.

Best Case of Puberty: I…. have NO idea. Alexis? Cause they taller? /shrug

Most Awkward: Cassandra is. For a multitude of reasons. She’s 100% the most awkward. Probably out of all of my muses actually.

Busy Bee: Cassandra actually. She hates sitting still, and being bored. If there isn’t something holding her attention she will probably be wandering off, and finding something to hold her attention. Yes this means if she’s with a group of people, and they all start talking lots so she can’t understand what is being said there is a decent chance they going to look around ten minutes later and see Cass doing a hand stand on top of a wall or climbing a building or something.

Most Clueless: Neither are clueless really except in ways the other is also clueless. Both are very well aware of how evil can be. Both are SO far behind on pop culture, and the like. So I’m going to say it’s equal.

Most Likely to Forget Their Wallet at Home: I was going to say Alexis, but than I remembered something. Cassandra shop lifted for a good few years to get whatever she needed, and probably still shop lifts at times cause fuck the mega corporations. So I’m going to say Cassandra.

Best Dressed: Ohhhh…. Cassandra. She loves going to the ballet, and she absolutely gets dressed up for it. Cute lil black dress and all.

Biggest Flirt: Alexis. Just because Cass is so awkward and has issues talking. UNLESS Cass meets a cute girl who ALSO knows ASL. Because Cass gets a lot more comfortable when she can sign.

Most Dramatic: Cassandra. She worked with Batman, Batwoman, the Robins, was trained by one of the worlds best assassins. When she wants to be she is SO dramatic. Also sneaky. Dramatic, and sneaky.

Least Likely to Show Up Late: Neither really. Cassandra knows the importance of getting to your target on time. Alexis was trained as a doctor. If I have to pick I’d say Cassandra because Alexis sometimes just can’t be bothered to care much.

One with Weirdest Habit: Uhhhh…. Side eyes Alexis and their blood lust addiction and dissecting people and just kind of nervously chuckles SO ANYWAYS

Most Likely to Be Caught at the Gym: Cassandra. Absolutely. Bonus points if it’s a gym with a climbing wall, and a parkour section.

Tagged by: I stole it from my other blog

Tagging: @oculusxcaro and I already tagged people on my other blog so... see it, steal it.

[wildtooru]

Coffee Date

Kenji Sato x reader

Summary: After weeks of missed connections and growing distance, you and Kenji finally meet for a long-overdue coffee date. Amidst the exhaustion of his dual responsibilities as a baseball star and Ultraman, Kenji struggles to open up as you navigate through small talk and unspoken tension, you confront the strain his busy life has put on your relationship.

Pt. 2

Note: English is not my first language. Also if you are interested in checking out more of my posts here is my main blog @wildtobio

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you stepped into the quaint little café near your apartment. The place had become your sanctuary, a quiet escape from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. Today, however, the familiar comfort did little to ease the anxiety knotting in your stomach. You hadn't seen Kenji in weeks, and his increasingly sporadic texts had left you feeling more alone than ever.

You spotted him sitting at a corner table, his baseball cap pulled low over his face. Despite his efforts to blend in, his striking features and athletic build made him stand out. He looked up as you approached, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey," he greeted, standing up to pull out your chair for you. "I'm glad you could make it."

You returned his smile, though it felt strained. "Hey, Kenji. Thanks for inviting me."

As you settled into your seat, Kenji ordered two coffees, knowing your favorite by heart. The two of you chatted about mundane things at first—work, the weather, a funny incident at the baseball game last night. But there was an underlying tension, a weight to his words that you couldn't quite place.

"Is everything okay?" you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. "You seem... off today."

Kenji's eyes flickered with uncertainty. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself. "It's just... there's a lot going on."

You nodded slowly, trying to keep your frustration in check. "I know you're busy with baseball and... other things, but I feel like I hardly see you anymore. It feels like you're slipping away."

He looked down at his coffee, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like that. It's just been... really tough lately."

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. "Kenji, I get that you're busy, but I miss you. I miss us. And I worry about you."

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and exhaustion. "I know. And I miss you too. It's just... there's so much pressure. With baseball, with everything else. And then there's Emi..."

You squeezed his hand gently. "You can talk to me, you know. You don't have to carry all of this on your own."

Kenji sighed, his eyes betraying just how weary he truly was. "I don't want to burden you with all my problems. I want to protect you from all of this."

You shook your head, your grip on his hand tightening. "We're a team, Kenji. You don't have to protect me from your life. I want to be a part of it, all of it. Even the hard parts."

His expression softened, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I just... I don't want to let you down."

"You won't," you assured him. "But you have to let me in. You have to trust me."

Kenji nodded slowly as if processing your words. "Okay. I'll try. It's just... it's hard, balancing everything. I feel like I'm constantly running on empty."

You leaned in closer, your voice gentle but firm. "Then let me help. We can figure this out together."

For a while, you both sat in comfortable silence, sipping your coffee and letting the tension between you slowly dissipate. The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but there was an unspoken understanding that things needed to change.

As you left the café together, Kenji took your hand in his, a silent promise of support and trust. The world outside felt a little more daunting, but with Kenji by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came your way—together.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Failure to do citations. Don't do that. I spent so much time back tracing so we don't keep doing this without understanding the core treaties and what they were about.

You're missing

Gustav Freytag-the person who set up the pyramid. (also a raging pre-fascist genocidal and general sexist which does play into his story structure because I read his entire treaties.)

Lieberman- came from a concentration camp and then went on to be a raging racist. TT I covered him. !@#$. Coined Inciting Incident. Racist.

Lajos Egri- married a child bride and talked about it in his writing guide. Also disparaged women.

Syd Field- The actual person who came up with the 3-act structure, but that's not the final product.

Larry Brooks- credit for the pinch points. I haven't read his treaties yet.

Honorable mentions:

Selden Lincoln Whitcomb- His treaties is a lot more complex, but he was taken from for the "Line of Emotion" which contributed to later works and those fancy diagrams with the up and down.

Joseph Esenwein- Took from Whitcomb and built it for short stories.

Bertolt Brecht- People misunderstand his treaties completely and it has warped from what he wanted it to be to a depressing mess of something he didn't want it to be. The whole 2 act downfall is him, but he didn't want it to be a depressing anxious mess. He wanted it to be a fun triumph. Credited for Epic Theater, but from what I read of him, Andrew Lloyd Webber doesn't understand Brecht well because it rubs against Webber's ideals of capitalism. BTW, Brecht is fun to read, like he intended.

Dishonorable mentions:

Kenneth Rowe- Plagiarized, then got plagiarized from. lol But he was a university professor. The popularization of the long run up to one side, which he stole from Selden Lincoln Whitcomb and the visualization of the description from Esenwein and Gustav Freytag, is him.

Robert Scholes- Sexist pig. Also subtly homophobic. He argued for Post Modernism in the 1980's, though he didn't invent the idea.

I'm still missing the person who came up with Antigone's diagram (the wrong one). And I'm still tracking down the language of "stakes" and "High stakes" narrative.

I absolutely have memorized this by now.

That said, there are a lot more story structures than 3-act in the canon. Given that Freytag is in the late 19th century, you still have the European 4 act.

The Aristotlean 2-act 16 parts (less character, more chorus),

The argument for the 5-act which is covered by Aelius Donatus, though people misunderstood him by not translating him, which is really funny if you understand him and how much he got off by using big words from other languages to look smarter and the people used him to do the same. I spent over a week with his latin text trying to understand it. TT FU Aelius and it's incomplete.

The ?? act structure of Shakespeare since his plays were rewritten into a First Folio by an unknown hand (this isn't to say he never wrote his plays, but it has been proven that the plays were restructured at a later date. So any treaties about how great the act structure of Shakespeare was is kind of futile. BTW, his story driver was morality, not conflict.) The people of his time including the often more daring Ben Jonson (lol the CS Lewis to the JRR Tolkien, if you will), created what is now thought of as the multi-plot play. (I linked a credit somewhere around in my blog for the author of that assertion) A plot v. B plot, are credited to this time period.

There is the Confessional Story structure, which was popularized by women, and thus hated, because it was popularized by women. And then summarily hated by Foucault. Rose in the 1920's.

And then there are much, much older story structures than the 3-act. The non-Hero's Journey, because it was made up by Campbell who didn't know the name of Tazieh story structure.

And then you have the rest of the world to face. Robleto, Kishotenketsu, Giseungjeongyeol, qichenzhuanhe, etc. I did cover that too, BTW.

But I'd generally discourage people from not mentioning the authors. And also skipping over their terrible. You don't think Freytag's sexism played a role in his story structure? Did you read it? It's male sexual response before that became a thing mixed with Christianity. This is why people need the entire treaties.

The Happy ending in Romance is credited to the 1950's-ish. Which means it's not yet 100 years old. Which means some person out there, remembered when Romances had unhappy endings.

People who know the origin of things so they can examine if they really want to follow someone who hated "Hebrews" for most of his life, and Polish people, or if there might be other ways or other conventions that need to be tapped into again. Like the treaties on story from the Delphian Society, which was women-led.

The Three Act Structure

The Three Act Structure - Plotting with Three Acts #amwriting #writerslife #ThreeActStructure #WriterCommunity #Writing #Tips #WritingTips

I’ve written before about story structure and about how I structure my own stories, but I thought that I would talk a little bit about another useful (if a bit more complicated) way of structuring your story elements, the Three Act Structure. In basic terms, the Three Act Structure is separated into the three main parts of a story. The beginning – or act one, the middle – or act 2 and the end –…

[jungkxook]

—the love bug. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 

⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 

You see Jungkook every night without fail.

When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.

Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.

You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.

This night isn’t any different.

You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.

You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.

“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”

The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.

“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”

Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”

Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”

“No thanks.”

“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”

Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”

The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”

“She said she’s not interested.”

The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”

Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.

“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”

You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.

“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.

“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”

Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”

“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”

You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.

As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.

“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”

“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”

The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”

Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”

“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”

“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”

He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.

“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”

Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.

“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.

As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.

You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.

Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.

You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.

You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.

You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.

You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.

“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”

Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”

Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”

Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”

“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”

The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.

“Well, anyone, for that matter.”

The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?

“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”

The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”

Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.

“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”

You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.

“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.

But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.

Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.

“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”

“It’s you!” You exclaim.

“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”

Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”

You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.

When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.

The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.

Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.

Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.

“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.

“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”

“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”

“You have? Who told you?”

This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”

A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.

“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”

Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”

“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”

“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.

“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”

Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.

Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”

Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.

“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”

“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”

“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”

Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.

That night you can hardly sleep.

You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.

It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.

A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.

“You again?” You ask humorously.

“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”

“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”

The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”

“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.

“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”

“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”

“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”

“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”

“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”

“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.

“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”

“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”

“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”

You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.

The days pass in a very typical blur.

Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.

It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.

“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”

Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”

Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”

“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”

“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”

As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.

“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”

Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”

And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.

Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.

If only he could be so brave without that mask.

On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.

Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”

As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”

You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”

“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”

When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”

“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I can name a few. Like the police.”

“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”

You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.

“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”

Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.

“Jungkook, I━”

But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”

“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.

You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━

“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”

You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”

“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”

Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”

The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.

“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”

“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”

The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.

“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”

You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.

Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.

In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.

On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.

You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.

You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.

“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.

His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”

“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”

His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”

You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?

It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.

Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.

You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”

“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”

You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.

“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”

“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”

The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.

“To add to the mystique?” he says.

“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”

“They would never be able to catch me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”

You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.

“What fame? People want to lock me up.”

“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”

“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.

“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”

A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.

“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”

“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”

He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.

“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”

When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.

“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”

This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.

The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.

Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook.

The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.

The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.

Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”

“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.

“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”

His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.

He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.

“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”

The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.

“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.

He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I show you something?”

You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”

“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”

You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.

You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.

You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.

It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.

The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.

You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.

You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.

A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.

“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”

His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”

He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”

The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.

He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.

There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.

You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.

You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”

Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.

“What’s up?”

Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”

Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”

Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?

“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.

“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”

Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.

“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”

Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”

“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”

“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”

A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”

Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then you’re kissing him.

You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.

You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says weakly.

You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”

“No.”

“What?”

You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.

“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”

You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”

“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.

Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.

“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”

Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”

When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”

“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”

“It’s not that simple━”

“It sure seems like it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.

“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”

“But I can handle it,” You insist.

“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”

Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.

You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.

In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.

It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.

There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.

“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.

“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”

Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.

“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”

“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”

“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.

“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”

You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”

You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━

“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”

Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.

He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.

You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.

Red and blue.

Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.

Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god! Jungkook!”

Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.

“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”

His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”

“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”

A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”

Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.

Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.

When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.

“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”

Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”

He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.

There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.

You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.

Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.

Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”

You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.

“Come here,” he mumbles.

You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.

You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”

“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.

“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.

“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”

He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.

“Really?”

Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”

He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man is cool.”

“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”

A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.

“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”

“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”

The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.

“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”

You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”

“I’m listening.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”

He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”

You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.

Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.

“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”

The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.

“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”

God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.

Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.

He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”

His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.

“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”

Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.

“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.

He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”

Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”

He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.

“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”

For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.

“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”

You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.

“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.

He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.

Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.

Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.

“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.

“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”

And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.

“Like this?” You gasp.

He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”

“Tell me,” You breathe.

Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.

“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”

You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.

You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.

So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”

He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.

Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.

He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.

When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.

“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”

Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”

“I know that,” he chuckles.

“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”

Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.

Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.

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[chemicalpink]

Hey!! I luv you blog. You're my favourite reader out of all on the Tumblr prediction community. I really wish if u can do a reading on what true luv means to BTS members or in other words how do they define luv.

OHHH this one seems so interesting of course I can do it love! Let us see what the cards have to say (I lowkey want to expose brat JK once again)

Also OMG that's so sweet thank you for supporting my work and loving it!!!

Disclaimer: This reading is based on my experience and knowledge of astrology, it is not meant to be the absolute truth, as BTS are real people, and tarot can only capture so much about multidimensional humans that have had past experiences and cultural approaches amongst other things, it does not have to resonate with you since this is in no way related to anyone reading it (unless you are a member of BTS in which case, get out of here lol ) This is just for entertainment purposes.

A/N: the topic is what is love for each member, so not necessarily will we be talking about romantic love on this one. It does not include lovce language necessarily either.

Seokjin

Okay, so I'll be mixing the outcomes of both oracles and tarot for this to make more sense as a whole reading. Seems like to Jin, relationships have always been fitted with some type of imbalance, whether it be aloof partners or him not being able to give as much as his partners have needed (the lovers rx) so for him, love is giving relationships a chance, going into it knowing that the relationship will need work. Inherently romantic, for him, love is being able to take the next step and commit fully, provide happiness and a sense of stability (10oC) there's also a lot of honesty involved in his perception of love, having open communication, settle things beforehand, and being able to stay true to the promises (KingoS)

Yoongi

As usual, Yoongi's readings are always explosive and there's a lot to unpack, this seems too intimate so I'll try to keep it light. My heart goes out to this man, he has healed and come a long way. So to him, love has always been about denial, about being unable to learn from past mistakes even when he sees them approaching at a fast pace (Judgemennt rx) which means that love means learning to forgive, release the past and being able to just experience more love in the present. We know Yoongi to be the type to defy status quo and whatnot but when it comes to love, he's very textbook-like in his loving, there's a longing for home, a longing for a soul more than a person and a need for spiritual love that runs so deep, this man wants a traditional love story and he might give bratty JK a run for his money on the one and only topic, he just doesn't show it as much (probably cause he has a lot of bagagge to works through but that's a whole other topic) (the hierophant). To him, love is knowing when the feelings have changed, when love has ran out and it's time to wlak away. (KnightoC rx)

Hoseok

Okay, listen, to each their own, and I personally feel Hobi on so many levels, he doesn't really have a solid definition of love, it seems like he doesn't really have it consolidated inside his head as something he's actively searching for (romantic love at least) so bear with me on this one. For one part, we've got how flirting and quick stuff is his type of thing, like some type of grounding experiences that he holds close to his heart, even tho there is not much depth to them, he just- he knows what he's got and is able to work with it real good. Cute enough, brotherly love is VERY present on the cards, he values more highly the connection he has with the members as signs of protection, loyalty, safety, and trust (KingoP) . He's very much aware that he's got things to work on before he even so much as begins to think about love as some more important part of his life (QoW rx) nonetheless, if he were to describe love in his terms, freedom would play a big part of it, which makes sense given the flirty card that came up in the beginning (PoW)

Namjoon

I am so ready to read for this guy. And I knew I had a reason to be so excited, we've got all major arcana and a need to include him to a wall of shame what's up with these men trying to battle JK. Seems like Joon has had to make adjustments in regards of his love life, which starts adaptability as a must for him in regards of what love means, which unfortunately not many of his relationships have had enough of for him to really feel like it was the love he defines as (the tower rx) Patience and diligence is a big thing on his definition of love, being able to venture and have doors opening for him, having people be patient with him as he slowly but surely gets it inside his head that he is deserving of the love he's being given (temperance) Listen- there's a soulmate card here, some part of him has come to believe that there's really a soul plan for his love life, one that apparently he's beginning to remember and search for, one that he believes with love he will feel complete. (the world)

Jimin

My sweet little Libra man. I have a rough idea of how this reading will go but let us see. Okay, so it looks like Jimin is one hell of a man that has come a long way in terms of his definition of love. He's been kind of letting go of his own precepts on the matter and has begun to trust where he's led in the matter, although seems like this growth has been nothing short on painful and from past experiences (6oS) He's obviously got a lot more to learn and we can't really assure that the next lessons won't be painful but as he is right now, he's come to absolutely treasure the good and sweet moments he's got with the people he cares, as short as they are (the hermit rx) Of course we couldn't miss on him being a truly romantic and very idealistic on the matter in true Libra fashion and we love that for him, especially when all of this is paired up with being able to free himself and take back control of the way that he himself wants to define love as in his life.

Taehyung

Oh god, I'm scared for this one. There is... a lot to unpack here, as in- when it comes to defining love, Tae has his own particular way of doing so. Then again, there seems to be a lot of traditional intakes on his definition of love, commitment being the first and foremost of them, being so sure about yourself that you want to take the next step in a relationship, that is mainly what love means to him (10oC) Even more os to an extent of integrating as one, finishing each other sentences type of way, may I even point out a friends to lovers type of thing. Yeah this man's definition of love is family, whether it is love within the members and himself, he values so much the way that they feel like family, in romantic terms, it would be his s/o being the one to bear his children (the empress) this idea of love he has also seemed very much rooted on himself, and it seems to me like its something that he refuses to let go of, even if he would have to fight for it or move mountains in order to get it (death rx)

Jungkook

WE'RE HERE. The star of the show, istg Jeon Jungkook if you make me look like a clown on this one I'll fight you. For a second there the cards refused to come out until they exploded. OKAY let's see. We've also got different types of love on this one. For one part, we've got his insight on romantic love, which to him, it's about being separated yet staying optimistic about it, while knowing there's a higher power behind the love story he longs for. Somehow he has yet to work on the part where he truly feels deserving of said love journey, also taking each new opportunity that he has within reach to prove to himself that he's worthy of the love he dreams about (aceoP) And yep it does follow the same line, there's a lot of daydreaming involved in his definition of love, of being faced with a lot of choices and a search of purpose that he has become to nurture more as of lately (7oC) On the other hand, his definition of love also includes a lot of motherly and fatherly love, along with brotherly love, seeing it as something more palpable and closer to him than what he feels romantic love is. A deep love that gets him through life. (the emperor)

Decks Used: The Romance Angels Oracle, The Starseed Oracle, The Prisma Visions Tarot