#don't even get me started on this don't touch me i'm so emo!!!!!!!

[hurtspideyparker]

how'd you know I was emo in high school 🤨 mild thunderbolts spoilers cuz I'm obsessed with them:

Bucky is adjusting to his new tower life with 5 dysfunctional roommates, all of who have their...quirks.

Bob, precious Bob, is always trying to avoid being an inconvenience. He feels bad for just about...everything, including his general existence. Which is why Bucky does his best to be nice.

Bob does the dishes, so Bucky won't mention how he puts them away in the most awkward positions (yes, the tupperware falls every time he opens the cabinet). Bob does the laundry, Bucky won't mention how he shrunk his leather pants.

Bob plays his music too loud? Well, Bucky can adapt.

Except it's incredibly obnoxious and angry. Honestly, Bucky is just concerned for his well-being.

Bucky raps on Bob's door, inevitably gets no response because the music is too loud, then walks in anyways.

"Bucky! Hi, what's up?"

He turns the music down, but Bucky can still hear the scratchy voice and tawdry lyrics.

"Just...checking you're doing all right man. Those are quite the tunes."

Bob lights up, "yeah! Yeah, this was my favourite album in high school. Got me through some tough times."

"It...got you through them?"

Shrugging, Bob gives him that soft wounded-animal smile. "Yeah. I was sad and angry, it helped that other people were too. Very cathartic. It could help you too!"

"Oh, I like forties mus—"

But Bob is already tugging him over to the bed and turning the music up happily.

—

It grows on Bucky.

The Winter Soldier was always the angry, violent one. Bucky never had an opportunity to be vengeful because he was too busy not being anything like who they made him to be.

But he is. He's pissed, and he's hurt, and he does have some choice thoughts about a lot of people!

He spends a lot of time nodding along with a furrow in his brow while Bob jumps around headbanging. Fuck Hydra, fuck his handlers, fuck Steve Rogers. The music gets his blood pumping with a righteous anger, and brings up that defiance he hasn't felt since he was a kid in Brooklyn.

It turns into a playlist. A pre-misson playlist to get him amped on the way over. The rest of the Thunderbolts know not to mess with his personal time, and no one but Bob knows what he's listening to (from the sounds that leak through his earbuds, they really rather not).

Bucky recites the WTTBP intro with gusto and perfection every time.

He explains the long and entangled history he has with Steve Rogers to Bob while I Don't Love You plays in the background.

He quietly tears up to Cancer in the privacy of his own room, thinking about his mom and sister. How Rebecca is still out there somewhere—how she wouldn't recognize him anyways.

Laughs disparagingly at Teenagers, because damn right they do. Feels a bit empty remembering Karli, and uncertain about a mouthy kid who can catch his arm.

Famous Last Words is always the last song he listens to before hopping into battle.

It's a few months into this ritual when Sam and Bucky reunite for a particularly personal mission. It's just the two of them in the back of a truck, rocking along to the bumpy road, and Bucky has his earbuds in as usual.

"What the hell's this man? You too cool to talk now?"

Bucky swats Sam's hand away as it reaches for his ear. "This is my thing, don't touch my thing."

"DoN't ToUcH mY tHiNg," Sam mocks.

They both settle back into their spots, until Sam slips a hand into Bucky's pocket to steal his phone.

"Hey—"

"My Chemical Romance? Really?"

"Bob showed me."

"The hell happened to your barbershop quartets. What's this, 'pre-mission amp?' You better have some Gaye on here."

Sam starts scrolling through Bucky's playlist, quicker than he can even read.

"He doesn't have the right vibe. It's just this album."

"God," Sam shoves the phone back into Bucky's chest, "I don't know what to do with you. Your new friends are turning you into more of a freak."

"Bob's nice." Bucky says, putting his playlist back on.

"Bob's a bad day away from killing you all."

Bucky ignores him, head titled back in peace as 'I know a thing about contrition because I got enough to spare' rings true in his mind.

okay but like imagine bucky barnes listening to the black parade

i don’t know what his reaction would be but can someone PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A HEADCANNON FOR THIS

@hurtspideyparker

[arcanaaa]

Aha...hah...

What if Cana left the island before Acnologia came to destroy it because of the bullshit Makarov pulled? I imagine Cana hearing this, what if something inside her snapped and she just. completely shut down. became so defeated. She gave twelve years of her life to try to become S-Class and this was her one chance to do it right, to prove she could do this on her own merit, and yet after all the bullshit with Grimoire Heart and Hade's, suddenly the trail is canceled? What?

No.

What if she just very quietly, very casually, so as not to raise suspicion, took her healing bath with Lucy, knowing it would be the last time she'd see her. Got dressed and, oh, haha hey there wouldn't happen to be any drinks back on the boat would there? Aw well, I'm gonna head over, anyone wants anything? No? Don't mind me~

--and that's when she decides she'll go.

It's horrible. Terrible. But she's in a state of mind that's equivalent to heading toward the gallows. It doesn't matter anymore-- nothing matters anymore, so what's one sin to add atop her other failures?

She'd find the small boat and head towards their ship, her mind already in that heavy fog of depression that would take a shovel to dig out of, a hand outstretched to pull her from that pit-- but she's already forming plans about what she'll say to the rest of the guild when she arrives back at Magnolia when she hears that terrible roar.

And she sees the wings of the Black Dragon and she knows that Death has come to take her family away and she panics she's terrified but she attempts to row back to them, to try and help them, to use Fairy Glitter-- maybe that could stop it, maybe it could save them--

She's not able to make it to the shore in time before the dragon roars, sending a destructive, cataclysmic blast and destroying the very island that she abandoned them at. Cana is only able to survive because she was far enough away from the island that the shock wave would have blown her away from Tenrou but it wouldn't be enough to kill her. She wishes that it did though.

Cana eventually being found and rescued by the Magic Council and then interrogated by the Magic Council, before being released where she heads to back to Magnolia, back to the guild to deliver the news. And all the while, the guilt and weight of her sin embolden her with a new purpose: she can't let the cowardly choice she made go without atonement. She was punished for her disgrace by watching her family die, the least she could do was stay and take responsibility and care for the ones that were left behind.

Cana returns and delivers the news. And then when a vote is cast, Cana is elected as the Fourth Guild Master. She works hard to maintain Fairy Tail's reputation, focusing on helping the townsfolk in Magnolia, focusing on improving their community relations while working on eliminating any Dark Guilds and Zeref Cultists that encroach upon their territory but their reputation is not the same as the Golden Years. It is almost reserved, withdrawn-- an animal that has suffered and is grieving needs time to heal and lick their wounds wouldn't be out and about making waves. And while yes, Fairy Tail doesn't make waves, that doesn't mean they're completely docile.

Cana has led their guild to a few victories in the GMG. But they're not of the same caliber, and it is only by the skin of their teeth that they're able to stay afloat. It's a struggle for Cana to keep going. But she can't stop.

But she knows that soon, they'll return.

It's rare that her gift of Sight grants her the boon of seeing the future, but she does see-- it's a glimpse, a fleeting mirage, but her visions have never been wrong. And that is what gives her hope, and that hope is rewarded when 7 years pass and Blue Pegasus greets them with news about Tenrou's disappearance. That is the sign she was looking for and sends out a team to go with BP to search for them. Meanwhile, she prepares herself, all the while dealing with upstart little shits trying to move in on her territory (Twilight Orge) and if there's one thing she won't stand is anyone disrespecting her guild.

And then one day they make a ruckus, looking to pick a fight and claim that she owes them a debt and the rage she feels is hot and deep because the only debt she owes has already been paid with her blood and sweat, and tears and her body--

They're a nuisance that's dealt with in a manner befitting that of one familiar of a dragon slayer's reaction but its recognized.

When they cheer "We're home!" Cana has to fight back the tears. She allows the rest of the guild the chance to greet them, to express their relief and joy before she makes her appearance. The shock of seeing Cana alive when they thought she had died from the Black Dragon's attack is met with equal relief, but Cana cannot take comfort in it-- she doesn't deserve it. They see her and how much she's changed, how well becoming a Master suits her.

She's older, wiser, and a hell of a lot stronger than before, but the years have also burdened her with the weight of responsibility. No one would recognize the same woman from 7 years ago as the same Cana Alberona, but she stands before them with a tired, weary smile, but it is no less filled with joy, heartache, and relief. The price of leadership is a sacrifice of personal autonomy: it means you no longer belong to yourself, but to your peers, your guild, your family -- and Cana has carried this for so long, it is a wonder how she held on. A Guild Master is a leader and shoulders all of the guild's victories and failures and if there's one thing Cana does to make things right, it's own up to her responsibility.

One of her responsibilities is to tell the truth: so, naturally, she did. She confessed what happened that day 7 years ago: she tells them her plan, her thoughts, tells them her whole reason for why she chose to leave the guild, the real reason why...and her secret that she had kept hidden for 12 years. In one fellow swoop, she reveals she is Gildart's daughter, delivering another shock to all but one person. She wouldn't expect absolution. She doesn't deserve it.

But her family is far better than her. She receives understanding. Kindness. Compassion. Acceptance. Forgiveness. From everyone-- because she tried to go back to help fight a futile battle, but more, she took care of the ones left behind. The thanks given to her, by everyone and most especially by Makarov, is humbling and overwhelming.

--even more so is the acceptance and love given by a father to their daughter--

She embraces and accepts the love denied her: a father's love long overdue, she weeps while the guild celebrates.

Today is a day to reacquaint with new faces and old, to learn and accept changes that are faced from the passage of time. But it is also a chance to plan for the future. Cana stood against the threat of irrelevancy that Fairy Tail faced, alone as Guild Master.

Now with everyone reunited, she can finally lay down the sword and rest.

The rest would be up to them now.

[sailorluna15]

what about pitfighter vi who wants nothing to do with virgins because she thinks they get too attached, and then reader is a virgin but vi really wants to fuck her anyway

"Come on, you're telling me you like used goods?"

Vi rolls her eyes and takes a swig of her beer.

"It's not used goods. I like a woman who knows what she likes and doesn't get too attached. Virgins get one taste of you and fall in love. I'm looking to fuck, not get married."

"You're thinking about it too much! It's kinda fun when they get attached. They're like little puppies."

"Nah, I'd rather stay away from that shit. I don't got time for the puppy attachment bullshit. I'm good.

That's how Vi felt until she met you.

Vi walks into the club and scans around for a nice piece of ass. She walks further into the club and sits at the bar. Waving the bartender down, he slides her a drink that she knocks back in a second.

She looks around again and spots you. Immediately, she knows who she wants to fuck tonight.

When she sees you, you're spinning upside down, naked, with your legs split in the air. Your bikini top, G-string, and dollar bills lay thrown across the stage as you dance. You look mesmerizing and delectable.

Vi walks over to the host and requests a lap dance from you.

After you finish your set, the host tells you Vi wants you. She points to the room Vi's waiting for you in and wishes you good luck.

You stalk towards the room and open the door with a smile.

"Hello, Vi?"

She nods and stares at you like a predator checking out its prey.

"Thank you for booking a dance with me. Do you want anything to drink before we get started? I wanna make sure you're comfortable." You say flirtatiously.

She shakes her head no and allows you to begin the dance. It feels like the entire world has disappeared as your bend over and shake your ass in her face.

When you turn back around to grind against her again, your faces come so close that your noses touch. The energy between you two is magnetic. As you two continue to breathe each other in, a knock comes to the door, signaling the end of the dance.

"I guess times up, huh?" Vi whispers.

"Yeah."

Silence passes by before you speak.

"My shift is over in 10 minutes if you wanna take this to my place.

Vi contemplates your offer, before agreeing.

"I'll be at the bar waiting."

A small smile graces your face as you both leave the room.

The host approaches you with a knowing look.

"Did little Ms. Emo Girl enjoy her lap dance?"

"Very much so. We're about to take it to my apartment." You say sweetly.

With a loud laugh, the host says, "Okay, girl, get you some! I want to hear all about it tomorrow."

"Oh, trust me, you will!"

You both wave your goodbyes as you walk to Vi and leave the club with her.

The air is filled with anticipation as you both make your way to your apartment.

Finally, enter your apartment and immediately jump on each other's bones.

Vi kisses and sucks on your neck as moans flow out of your mouth.

She quickly drops to her knees, removes your panties, and immediately starts to devour your pussy.

Loud groans fill the air as she sucks on your clit and sticks her tongue in your pussy. She sticks two fingers into your pussy and fingers you as she continues to eat you out. Vi stands up and leads you to the bedroom. She manhandles you onto the bed and starts to unbuckle her pants.

"Wait...wait." You plead as you put your hands on her belt buckle.

"I've...I've never done this before."

Vi laughs in disbelief and says, "You joking, right?"

You avoid her eyes and shrug your shoulders.

"Oh my God, you're serious. You're a fucking virgin."

"It's not my fault! I've...I don't get out much."

"You're literally a fucking stripper! How are you still a virgin?!" Vi exclaims.

"Me being a dancer has nothing to do with having sex or my virginity! It's a job just like any other and has nothing to do with my personal life." You say defiantly as you lean back on your hands.

"You know what? I don't even fucking care. I just wanna fuck. You take strap or what?" Vi asks with a raised brow.

"I mean, I...I guess. I've always wanted to try it." You whisper out shyly.

With a hum, Vi drops her pants and underwear simultaneously, revealing a thick 8-inch purple dildo attached to the strap.

"Is that gonna fit?" You question nervously.

"We'll find out in a few seconds, won't we? You got lube?" Vi responds

"It's in the first drawer."

Vi leans over, opens the drawer, and grabs the lube. She squirts it on the dildo and lines herself up with your pussy.

"You ready?"

You nod and relax as Vi slides inside you.

"Fuck." You breathe out.

Vi slowly fucks you until she feels you get comfortable.

"Go faster."

Vi smiles and quickens her pace. She lifts your legs, presses them to your chest, and fucking you deep into the mattress.

Moans, groans, and curses fill the air as Vi takes your virginity.

"Damn, your pussy's so tight. You wanted this bad, huh. Fucking whore."

"I'm a whore." You whine out as you clutch Vi's arms.

You feel a sting on both of your asscheeks as Vi delivers a slap to them.

"I love a girl who knows what she is."

Vi begins to rub little circles on your clit as she drives her hips faster into you.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Go ahead and cum. Cum on my dick." Vi grunts out.

One, two, three thrusts, and you unravel. Your body shakes as ecstasy overcomes you.

"Oh my God, I've never come like that in my life." You say with a heavy breath.

Vi chuckles as she removes the strap from you and helps you clean up.

After she helps you clean up, she heads towards the door. You quickly chase after her.

"Wait!"

Vi turns around with a raised eyebrow and an expectant face.

"What's your number? I wanna do this again sometime."

"555-876-0982. Don't expect a relationship, though. I'm strictly here to fuck."

You quickly write the number down and nod your head in agreement.

"Yeah, no, no, no. I want the same strictly fucking. No strings attached."

With a low 'mhmm,' Vi walks out of your apartment and heads home.

"What a fucking woman."

[harrysfolklore]

how is piastri sis feeling with this being carlos last ferrari race? cuz i’m feeling emotional

AHHH CARLOS' LAST RACE WITH FERRARI 🥺 im so emo but also really really proud of him. and so is our girl piastri sis. enjoy!

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The motorhome is quiet, the usual post-race bustle muted by the weight of finality. Carlos sits on the couch, still in his race suit with the Ferrari logo that's no longer his, staring at nothing. You watch him from the doorway, heart aching at the emotion written across his face.

"I can hear you thinking from here," he says softly, not looking up.

You move to sit beside him, taking his hand. His fingers automatically intertwine with yours, a habit now.

"I keep thinking about what I said," your voice is barely a whisper. "At the beginning of the season. About hoping you wouldn't find a seat."

"Mi amor-"

"No, let me finish," you squeeze his hand. "Seeing you now, knowing how much the Ferrari exit hurt... I was so cruel. So insensitive. Just because I was angry about Oscar-"

"You apologized months ago," he turns to face you, eyes soft. "Went we grabbed sushi and said you were sorry for being harsh."

"I know, but..." you touch his face. "Watching you take that last lap today, seeing how emotional you were on team radio... it just hit me again how horrible those words were. How much you were already hurting when I said them."

He catches your hand, kissing your palm. "I wasn't exactly kind to you either back then. Or to Oscar on track."

"Still-"

"No, listen," he pulls you closer. "That comment? It led to our first real conversation. When you apologized, I knew something had shifted. And now look at us."

You lean into him, remembering how that sushi outing led to him kissing you after, and changing everything forever.

"Besides," he continues with a small smile, "I did find a seat. Williams is excited to have me. And more importantly..." he kisses your forehead, "I found you."

"Smooth little bitch," you murmur against his chest.

"It's true though," his voice gets serious. "Leaving Ferrari hurts, yes. But this year? Getting to know you, falling in love with you? It's worth every painful moment."

"Even when I was being a protective sister?"

"Even then," he chuckles. "Though I prefer when you're being a protective girlfriend now."

You look up at him. "I'm so proud of how you handled everything this year. The Ferrari news, the criticism, the uncertainty... you stayed professional through it all."

"Had someone pretty amazing supporting me," he pulls you into his lap. "Someone who went from hating me to loving me."

"I never really hated you," you protest. "I just... strongly disliked your on-track decisions."

He laughs properly then, the sound chasing away some of the melancholy. "And now?"

"Now I strongly like everything about you," you kiss him softly. "Even your questionable racing moves."

"Hey!"

"Kidding," you stroke his cheek. "I'm so excited to see you at Williams. They're lucky to have you."

He holds you tighter. "Will you wear their merch next year?"

"Of course. But I'm keeping one Ferrari shirt."

"Oh?"

"Your race-worn one from today," you smile. "For memories."

His eyes get emotional again. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too," you rest your forehead against his. "Ferrari chapter is closing, but we're just getting started."

He kisses you deeply, pouring everything he can't say into it.

Later, Oscar sends a photo to the group chat Of Carlos's last Ferrari lap with you watching from the garage, wearing his team shirt.

"From enemies to this. Still wild."

Carlos saves it immediately because sometimes the best endings lead to better beginnings. And sometimes "I hope you don't find a seat" turns into "I hope you never leave my side"

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Me in the obey me universe is such an awful idea

I am so touch starved that if one of them hugged me I'd cry 😭

I'd also be severely horny too though (asmos is scared that his sin lights up whenever I'm around) on that note...

Things I think would make me happy/horny from the brothers as a touch starved Mc

Lucifer

His hands and eyes. I can not keep eye contact I either get flustered or pissed off when someone stares at me too long I do not like being perceived😭 but I do love pretty eyes I always stare way too much (when the person isn't looking) that being said Lucifers sharp beautiful red eyes will definitely send me back to middle school when my face would turn red (I'm an embarrassing mf) and oh my I have always thought gloved hands from sexy butlers or vampires and yes demons ofc are just so fucking hot that I would always subconsciously try and touch his hand by refrain cuz I'm a loser 😞

Mammon

How handsy he is and the amount of skin he shows. I have never had much physical touch from my partners they were always either too sexual not too loving so if Mammon were to gently hold my waist or hand I would freak out most likely. I love muscle and tan men (I am tan myself what can I say😌) and I will immediately zone in on any skin shown

Levi

Definitely his hands and believe it or not his face. His hands are definitely those gamer hands that are soft but slightly veiny and just UGH I'd be eyeballing them heavily. And if he were to ever get the courage to touch me I am immediately all over them. His face when flustered is something I would absolutely be turned on by because I like a little bit of power over pathetic men so making him flustered with light flirting would send me into a frenzy

Satan

Okay listen his voice and hair. His voice is just...idk like a 'oh my' when you hear it type of voice. Not too soft but definitely not too deep it's just perfect. And I have a voice kink so yeah. Now I'm usually not into blondes but when I am I adore their fluffy hair so much. I feel like raking my hands through his hair would warm my heart and calm me

Asmos

I feel like he would understand my girl issues a lot. He would be like that gay friend who always has a pad or something like that. I was never very feminine when younger so I am just now learning everything and I feel like he would help so much with my feminine stuff

Beel

Definitely his size and muscles. I don't know why I love larger men they just always make me feel safe so if I were to just sit in Beel's lap or have him hug me I'd be so at ease and calm nothing would scare me. Now I love muscles ofc not too much but got biceps? Yes. Back muscles? Lord yes. Abs? Don't even get me started. I just get way too horny for those and beel definitely has them

Belphie

His smirk and his sassy-ness. I love me some sassy men they always make me feel like I'm talking to myself because I'm very sarcastic and sassy as well so if you match my energy I will feel more at ease with you. Now he looks more emo out of all his brothers and my god when emo boys smirk it makes me weak. Like yes sir I'll do anything you ask of me 🥴

Maybe I'll do the side characters idk if people will like this 😭

[fuyine]

Prompt: When you try to open the door on your own.

warnings!!! excessive fluff, all characters are aged 18+, timeskips! preferably, please read with a grain of salt.

Pairings: kuroo tetsurou, bokuto kotarou, akaashi keiji, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei x fem!reader (separately)

You dare to put your tiny hands on the car handle around this guy? Oh no, no, no. That was a big mistake.

Before you could fully swing the passenger door open, Tetsu's hand immediately halted you by gripping the door frame behind you with a 'HUH' face.

"What do you think you're doing, princess?" he asked, his brows wrinkling in annoyance at your attempt to open the door yourself—a task you were perfectly capable of.

With minimal effort, he shut the door when you let go of the handle and then swung it back open, adding an open palm gesture with his free hand as if showing you the way inside.

"I'm here for a reason, princess," he said, shutting the door once you got in and immediately walking around the car to the driver's side.

Meanwhile, you sat there in the passenger seat, sweating slightly, fighting the urge to tell him that you were capable of doing it yourself, only to feel a hand on your thigh, squeezing it softly as if to stop you from protesting.

"Not a word from you," he started, giving you another squeeze as he buckled his seatbelt before removing his hand to plug in the car key and start the engine. "And don't even think about stepping out of the car if I'm not the one who opened it for you."

I swear, when this man is around, he won't even let you open something if he knows he can do it for you.

When you try to be independent around this guy, things get turned upside down, and his teammates wonder what happened—why his shoulders are slumped, why he's flaking out so much during practice.

Safe to say, you unleashed the emo Bokuto. Acts of service are second to his love language—he's a sucker for physical touch. He would do almost anything for you, even if you didn't ask.

Opening doors has been a habit of his since you two started dating. Even on your dates, he insists on being the one to open the doors and waits for you to head inside first.

Talk about chivalrous, but he's just a pure guy who's been showered with his older sister's affection and knows how to treat women well.

But the time you left for work in a hurry, kissing his cheek goodbye and making your way out the front door, he ran after you to open it, only to have the door slam shut in his face.

Poor Kou. Surely, you didn't mean any harm and were just in a rush. However, make sure to talk with this guy once you get home.

In contrast to Bokuto, being independent around this guy is no problem. He knows you can handle things on your own.

However, there are instances when his hand lands first on the handle, and he says things like,

"I'll do it, love."

"Your hands are full, let me."

"I know your pinky finger was open, but I doubt it can compare to the weight of this door, sweetheart."

It's a healthy relationship all the way, but deep down he secretly wants you to depend on him once in a while whenever he's around.

Give this guy a medal.

"Dumbass. Idiot. Boke." I can imagine him chanting these words as he followed you down the hall from behind while you carried two large boxes—probably heading to the student council.

He knows you can handle it, but the moment he saw you walking straight towards the closed door of the council room and struggling to open it with one hand, he darted out of his hiding spot and slammed the door open for you.

Blinking at the sudden noise, you tilted to the side of the boxes that were obscuring your view, only to see him standing beside you and the open door.

He merely looked down at you, wanting to smile, but not wanting to scare you off, he decided to walk away as if nothing had happened, grumbling.

Unable to process his words, you stood there with the heavy boxes in front of the now-open council room and watched his figure descend down the staircase.

What made you think he'd open the door for you?

He enjoyed seeing you struggle to open the door with your hands full of items he'd told you to drop off, suggesting you take turns coming back to get them.

But you were too stubborn and hard-headed to act dependent and admit he was right. You scooped up all your stuff with both hands before heading to your destination, only to be blocked by a door.

Struggling not to drop anything, you grumbled in annoyance while a snicker from behind approached you.

"What, can't your short hands reach the handle?" he remarked, brows quirked as he reached for the handle from behind you, towering over your midget size and clearly noticing the height difference as he twisted the doorknob open.

"There you go, Thumbelina," he smirked, swinging the door open and placing a hand on his hip. Seeing your furrowed brows and noticing how you were biting your tongue to keep from giving a snarky remark only heightened his amusement.

"Not being appreciative, are we?" his smirk grew wider.

I swear, he finds enjoyment in your predicaments of being independent.

requests are open!

[frozenmoonshine]

How TR boys show affection/love?

Long time no write, but my hyperfixation is very alive and kicking, as always! And since the weather is getting chillier as we're approaching the full blown autumn, it's the perfect time for some cozy, fluffy thoughts! 🍂🍁☕️🧦

TW: none, just some slight exaggeration for comedic purposes; Reader's gender is not specified

MIKEY - bites.

You can't convince me this adorable, emo menace to society isn't a total menace in every other aspect as well! He likes you means he wants you. He also wants dorayaki because he likes it. Dorayaki is something he chews on. ........... You can see what I'm getting at. He'll just randomly start munching on any bit of your skin he can get access to. And if he gets carried away, he can bite for real! It's just Mikey logic, don't question it, there's no use. But, fair be fair, he also protecc!

DRAKEN - acts of service.

He's the type to reflexively take off his jacket and cover you when you're cold, or go get you a bottle of water when you're out in the hot weather and he noticed you struggling with the heat. He'll always carry your bags and stuff, and doesn't allow you to refuse. You need an errand done - he's already on it. And the best part is that he never thinks twice about doing any of that, it's simply his second nature.

BAJI - surprisingly... also acts of service.

CLUMSY acts of service, but acts of service nonetheless! He'll cook for you (as in, more than just instant yakisoba - an actual meal). He'll bring you a cat when you're feeling down to cheer you up. He'll teach you to fight if you need to blow some steam off. (And he'll happily spar with you, but beware - he has ulterior motives in that sparring session, iykwim 😏) Still, the biggest sign of his affection is if he lets you touch his hair!

MITSUYA - support.

I was tempted to say 'words of affirmation', but on the second thought, just support in every shape and form that you might need. He's your shoulder to cry on when you need to, someone who believes in you when you doubt yourself, and someone you can always rely on no matter if you're going through a petty drama or your world actually just fell apart. He's always there by your side, through thick and thin!

KAZUTORA - trust.

They say that jealousy is the sign of love, but it's the exact opposite in Kazu's case! If you really mean something to him, he won't experience the least bit of jealousy, even if he saw you sitting butt-naked in another man's lap! He'll also be fully comfortable being himself around you, and feel safe to share his past, traumas, mistakes, and his healing journey, without fear of being judged or abandoned. He will just know in his heart that you are his person no matter what!

KOKO - self-sacrifice & physical touch.

I think this is pretty much canon, but allow me to elaborate nonetheless.

Hajime is passionate. When he falls in love, he falls head over heels and worships the ground his s/o walks on! His devotion can sometimes border on obsession, and there is nothing he wouldn't be willing to do for his love! And I mean - nothing - literally no limits! He'd kill or die in a heartbeat for the one he loves, no questions asked! And, since he burns so fervently in love, he cannot help the urge to constantly shower the object of his affection in kisses, to hold them tight and just feel their skin, warmth, scent... Sidenote: he doesn't hug, he embraces!

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #08 死

† chai †

"Sweetness doesn’t have a place in Jeon’s life, or at least it didn’t, until now. Because he’s been craving vanilla and cardamom and… chai? Hoseok is as annoying as always, and the fact that you may be at tonight’s celebration is… something he doesn’t quite know how to process."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 6.3k

rating: mature

content: snippet into jeon’s head, jeon’s POV, jeon being emo, sad vibes, insomnia, mental health issues, pills, suicide jokes, j-hope being a good friend and also a good doctor, celebrations, booze, female friendships, moon being surprisingly good at mixing drinks

☠ author's note ☠

I can literally HEAR all your "I can fix him" screams from here and honestly? SAME. I, too, want to fix the emotionally constipated sniper who probably sleeps with his combat boots on (￣ω￣)

Here's the thing—I started this whole endeavor thinking I'd stick strictly to the protagonist's POV. Very tunnel vision, very "we only know what she knows" vibes. But then Jeon's broody ass started living rent-free in my head and I was like... fuck, I want to show what's happening in that disaster brain of his too???

I'm sure you know the feeling. When reading, you just NEED to know what the hell is going on behind those cold eyes and that jaw that could cut glass. But it gets tricky, especially when you're trying to do this whole slow reveal thing without dumping too much info at once.

And trust me, the character of Jeon is like a cocktail made by a bartender who's having an existential crisis—way too many conflicting ingredients, definitely going to give you a hangover, but you're still going to drink it because you hate yourself. Or love pain. Or both.

So I decided to include snippets of his POV sometimes. It feels necessary—some conversations need to happen when our protagonist isn't there, and some emotional baggage needs unpacking for you readers to understand what's actually going on (like back in chapter 2 when we got that glimpse into his head).

Now, I'd love to ask for your opinion on this whole POV-switching business, but let's be real—this story is pretty much gonna be completed by the time you're reading this author's note. So... I'm just gonna trust my chaotic writer instincts on this one.

And if you don't like getting glimpses into Jeon's beautiful disaster of a mind? Well... you're gonna like it today anyway (•̀ᴗ•́)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Jungkook doesn't do sweets. Never has.

His world operates in darker shades, tactical operations and precise calculations. Sweetness belongs to a different universe—one of bright colors and soft edges that he left behind long ago.

Sometimes a piece of candy appears in his pocket, usually after a meeting with JM who keeps bowls of them everywhere. He'll unwrap it absently, the crinkle of plastic echoing in his quiet office. Let it dissolve on his tongue while reviewing mission reports. The initial sweetness isn't unpleasant, stirring something old and forgotten in his chest.

But it never lasts.

The sugar becomes too much, coating his mouth like an unwelcome invasion. 

Cloying. 

Suffocating. 

He usually tosses the rest, wondering why he even bothered.

Lately though, something's changed. 

He finds himself reaching for vanilla cookies in the cafeteria. Ordering cardamom tea instead of his usual black coffee. Small impulses he can't explain, like his body's searching for something his mind hasn't caught up to yet.

And now?

Now the clock reads 4:16 AM. 

It's yet another night of minimal sleep—three and a half hours if he's being generous. The neon numbers mock him from his bedside table, surrounded by an array of pills that could probably tranquilize an elephant. 

All prescribed by J-Hope.

All increasingly useless.

Benzos. Narcotics. Nothing touches the corners of his insomnia anymore.

He's been fighting with his sheets for the past hour, tangled evidence of another failed attempt at rest. The black covers pool around his feet like spilled ink. His bedroom surrounds him in familiar darkness—walls painted to absorb light rather than reflect it, matching the void that lives behind his ribs.

The king-sized bed stretches out like empty territory, conquered by nothing but restless thoughts and the occasional phantom of memory. His room is a fortress built of clean lines and minimal decoration, a cell of his own design where even the shadows know better than to dance.

But lately, even this usually comforting solitude feels... different. Like something's missing. Something warm and sweet that he can't quite name.

Jungkook steps into the cold, the floor a shock against his bare feet. The shadows stretch across his bedroom, making the space feel hollow and vast at 4 AM. His movements are silent—years of training making even his insomnia graceful.

The lounge area of his wing feels abandoned. Empty sofas and tables wait like props on a stage, missing their usual cast of lieutenants and strategists. During the day, this space buzzes with mission plans and tactical discussions. Now it's just him and the quiet.

He closes the door to his wing, crossing into the neutral territory of the entrance hall. It's the DMZ between his domain and V's—a thought that makes his head hurt. Even at this hour, he can feel the shift in energy. 

V's presence lingers here like a bad taste.

The access card feels heavy in his hand. A small piece of tech that reminds him of his rank, his responsibilities. AD's security system responds with a soft beep, elevator doors sliding open on silent tracks. He steps in, presses the button for the common area. It's not his usual haunt—too exposed, too public—but lately he's been drawn there.

The descent gives him time to think. His mind drifts between fragments of nightmares and that strange, persistent craving for sweetness. It's been haunting him for weeks now, this urge for vanilla and cardamom. 

For chai and spices.

Maybe his brain is trying to balance out the bitterness that fills his days, or maybe he's finally losing it.

The elevator announces his arrival with a quiet ding. The corridor stretches before him, dark and empty. Somewhere down there is the snack area, and maybe, if he's lucky, a moment of peace.

He moves towards the corridor. Posters and artwork splash color across the cream walls—a jarring contrast to his stark quarters. He never quite understood the need for decoration, but the members insist on making the space "lived in." Whatever that means.

After 3 minutes, the common lounge sprawls before him, so different from his wing's militant precision. Here, rank means little. Divisions blur. The high ceiling should make the space feel cold, but somehow it doesn't. Maybe it's the worn leather sofas or the gaming consoles scattered about like abandoned toys. 

The air smells of polish and something unknown yet weirdly tranquil—comfort, maybe. 

He pushes that thought away.

Vending machines hum quietly in the snack area. Behind the glass, rows of sweets beckon. His eyes linger on a vanilla protein bar, then drift to some cardamom cookies. The craving hits again, piercing and mercilessly insistent.

But he's not alone.

AD slouches in a puff chair, bathed in the blue light of his game screen. His face twisted in its usual scowl, fingers jabbing at buttons with unnecessary force. 

The sight stirs something in Jungkook's chest—regret, maybe. 

Or guilt. 

Both emotions he'd rather not examine.

Their eyes meet. The air grows heavy. Unspoken words. Shared trauma.

The gaming console beeps softly. AD's character dies on screen. The silence that follows feels like an accusation.

Jungkook notes the way AD's blonde hair glints in the dim light as his eyes snap to Jungkook. His fingers still on the controller, body shifting into something more guarded, more alert. 

Jungkook feels his muscles tense automatically. The late-night sugar craving fades to background noise as AD's frosty stare pins him in place. 

Like a fucking needle cutting into skin. 

His hand hovers over the door handle, and he can't decide whether to stay or retreat. There's too much history here, too many buried regrets—and AD's presence brings it all rushing back—memories Jungkook would rather keep locked away with his other nightmares.

He immediately clocks the way AD's face contorts—sharp and bitter—and it makes Jungkook's chest tighten with familiar remorse. 

The younger man has never quite forgiven him. 

Probably never will.

Just as Jungkook decides to leave, to return to the safety of his isolation, AD's voice slices through the silence.

"No need for you to scurry off." The words barely mask the hostility underneath. "Was about to leave anyway."

Jungkook forces his shoulders to relax, though his jaw remains tight. Their paths cross rarely these days, and when they do, it's always like this—loaded silences and measured distance.

AD sets the controller down. Sharp. Angry. His movements are stiff as he rises, radiating enmity in waves that fill the common room. The scent of fresh lemons—AD's signature—grows stronger as he approaches.

But Jungkook doesn't move. 

Doesn't flinch. 

He deserves this, after all. This anger, this hostility, this remorse that reminds him of betrayals he can never make right.

The collision comes swift and deliberate—AD's shoulder slamming into his with force. The impact jolts through Jungkook's body, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the guilt that floods his system. His throat tightens with dusty apologies he knows AD would never accept.

He watches him stride away, the blonde's back rigid with years of accumulated anger. The sound of his footsteps fades down the corridor, leaving Jungkook alone with the quiet hum of the vending machines and his own thoughts.

There was a time when AD looked up to him, when their dynamic was different—better. Now all that remains is this bitter aftermath, this chasm Jungkook carved with his own choices. The memory of who they used to be makes the present cut deeper.

The gaming console's screen still glows, enhancing AD's absence in the empty chair he left behind. The 'GAME OVER' message blinks mockingly. Jungkook's fingers twitch, remembering late nights spent teaching AD new gaming strategies, back when trust wasn't such a foreign concept between them.

He should feel angry at the shoulder check; at the constant hostility that feels like a reprimand. 

But all he feels is hollow. 

Empty. 

Because how can he blame AD for hating him when he did this? When he destroyed something irreplaceable with decisions he can never take back?

He can't help but stare down the empty corridor where AD disappeared, the bitter taste of their encounter lingering longer than he'd like. His craving for sweetness feels almost desperate now—a childish attempt to wash away the guilt that gnaws at his chest.

His throat tightens. He swallows hard, trying to maintain the aloofness expected of Kkangpae's deadliest sniper. 

But it's hard, when AD's hostility has cracked something open inside him, letting old memories seep through like poison.

The vending machines hum quietly, offering a welcome distraction. He scans the selection without really seeing it, until—

Croissants.

Something shifts in his stomach at the sight of those packaged pastries. They're nothing like the fresh ones from the cafeteria, the ones you always grab during breakfast. Not that he's been watching. It's just that you're always there when he is, picking up one of those flaky pastries along with your coffee.

He's noticed, despite himself, how early you arrive to snag them before they run out. Same time as him, though his early mornings are spent running from nightmares rather than hunting down breakfast.

The memory of your routine feels oddly grounding after his encounter with AD. It's something simple, predictable. 

Unlike the mess of guilt and regret that follows him through these halls at night.

It's a strange comfort, this knowledge of your habits. 

One he doesn't understand.

One he probably doesn't deserve.

The scent of fresh lemons still lingers in the air, like a ghost of bridges burned and trust fractured. But as Jungkook stares at those artificially-made croissants, he finds himself thinking of chai tea instead.

He tears his gaze away, scanning other options until he spots a nutty protein bar. Practical. Sensible. The kind of choice the Chief of Tactical Assassinations should make. 

He jabs at the keypad hastily, and then, the machine whirs and drops his selection with a dull thud.

The wrapper crinkles in his grip as he retrieves it. Such a simple thing—choosing a late-night snack. No one gets hurt. No trust gets broken. No consequences ripple through the gang's hierarchy. 

Just him and a protein bar at 4 AM.

The common room feels different now that AD's gone. Quieter. Jungkook lets himself breathe, really breathe, for what feels like the first time since AD's shoulder slammed into his.

He should feel worse, probably. Should let the weight of past betrayals and broken friendships crush him like they usually do. But something about this moment—this stupid protein bar in his hand, the quiet of the room, the lingering thought of croissants and early mornings—makes everything feel a bit lighter.

His lips almost twitch into what could be a smile. It's weird, this tiny bubble of something in his chest. Almost like contentment. He doesn't examine it too closely, afraid it might shatter.

The corridors don't feel as suffocating as he makes his way back to his wing. The shadows seem less interested in reminding him of his sins. 

For now, in this small hour between night and dawn, he allows himself this moment of peace.

He probably doesn't deserve it. But for once, he takes it anyway.

Jungkook stares at his lunch without really seeing it. 

The cafeteria bustles around him, but he's carved out his own bubble of silence at the far end of a long table. It's better this way—no small talk, no pretending to care about division gossip.

His chopsticks push a piece of fish back and forth across his plate. The encounter with AD keeps replaying in his mind, each memory tasting bitter like the coffee he's been nursing for the past hour. Some wounds, he's learning, don't heal with time. They just scab over, waiting to be picked open again.

And then, a tray clatters across from him. 

J-Hope drops into the seat, his white medical coat slightly rumpled from what's probably been a busy morning in the infirmary. The doctor's eyes scan Jungkook's face with scrutiny, his mouth pulling into that familiar worried frown.

"You look like shit," J-Hope announces, ever the picture of bedside manner. "Two hours of sleep? Maybe less?"

Jungkook shrugs, still focused on mutilating his fish. "Don't count anymore."

"Those new meds I gave you—" J-Hope starts, unwrapping his sandwich with more force than necessary. "You're actually taking them, right?"

"They don't work." The words come out flat. "Nothing does."

"Jesus christ," J-Hope mumbles through a bite of sandwich. "Have you tried, I don't know, taking them before you spend six hours staring at your ceiling? Maybe with some tea?"

The concern in J-Hope's voice makes something twist in Jungkook's chest. 

He doesn't deserve this—the worry, the care, any of it. 

Not after everything. 

But J-Hope is one of the few people who still treats him like a person rather than a cautionary tale, so he tries to sound less dismissive when he responds.

"I don't need a lesson on how to take pills. They just don't work for me."

The doctor sets his sandwich down, eyebrows pulling together. A bit of lettuce falls out. "Look, I know you've built up tolerance, but we need to find something that works. You can't keep going like this."

"I'm fine." He's not, but he doesn't truly care. "Function better on less sleep anyway. More efficient."

"That's bullshit and you know it." J-Hope's voice rises slightly, anger seeping through. "You think I can't see what this is doing to you? The mood swings? The isolation? This isn't healthy, Jungkook."

Jungkook flinches at the use of his real name. "I don't need a lecture. I'm handling it."

"Oh yeah, real healthy coping strategy." J-Hope's scoff holds more concern than mockery. "Just pretend everything's fine while you run yourself into the ground."

Exhaustion weighs heavy on Jungkook's bones. Three hours of sleep and memories of AD's hostility from last night make his tongue looser than usual. "Maybe you should prescribe me your finest benzos. Let me wash them down with vodka. That ought to do the trick."

The slam of J-Hope's palm against the table makes the silverware jump. Several heads turn their way, but Jungkook can't bring himself to care. 

"If you want to kill yourself," J-Hope's voice is deadly quiet, trembling with rage, "don't you dare make it my prescription."

The cafeteria suddenly feels too small, too crowded. J-Hope's worry tastes bitter in the back of Jungkook's throat, mixing with guilt he doesn't have the energy to process. He shouldn't have said that—shouldn't have joked about something so dark. But three hours of sleep and a lifetime of regrets make it hard to care about much of anything anymore.

Silence stretches between them. Jungkook stares at his mangled fish, not really eating anymore. He knows what's coming—J-Hope never could leave well enough alone.

The doctor's voice softens, trying a different approach. "Have you considered meditation? Or maybe some calming music? I know a sleep therapist who—"

"I don't need a damn therapist." Jungkook's tongue plays with his lip ring, a nervous habit he can't shake. 

The metal tastes bitter, or maybe that's just the exhaustion talking.

Because J-Hope is wrong. Therapy won't fix this. Pills won't fix this. Nothing can erase what happened, what he let happen. Some stains don't wash out, no matter how hard you scrub.

"Look, Jungkook." J-Hope uses his real name again, and his throat constricts uncontrollably. "Ever since what happened with—"

"Don't." The word comes out sharp enough to cut.

J-Hope holds his gaze, unflinching. "You can't keep punishing yourself forever."

"I'm not discussing this." His voice turns to steel, matching the cold weight that's made a home in his chest.

Another sigh from J-Hope as he leans back. "Fine. But you know where to find me when you're ready to actually try and fix this."

Jungkook's jaw clenches so hard it hurts, a muscle jumping under his skin. But he stays quiet. What's the point of arguing when J-Hope doesn't understand? 

Some things aren't meant to be fixed. 

Some people don't deserve to be.

Jungkook pushes his half-eaten lunch away with a tired sigh. He can feel it coming—the same conversation they have every year.

"So," J-Hope starts, right on cue. "Making an appearance tonight or pulling your usual disappearing act?" He peers at Jungkook over his coffee mug, eyes too knowing for comfort.

"Haven't decided." The words come out clipped, because he feels already exhausted by the mere thought of socializing.

"You should come." J-Hope takes a careful sip. "Might help to interact with actual humans instead of just your rifle for a change."

"I interact plenty." It sounds defensive even to his own ears.

"Glaring at people from across the room doesn't count as interaction." J-Hope's voice is dry as desert sand. "Neither does grunting one-word responses."

Jungkook's tongue finds his lip ring, playing with it absently. "It's just a casual thing. Not mandatory."

"Right, just our leader's rise to power celebration. Totally insignificant." The doctor's sarcasm could cut glass. "Definitely not something a Council member should show face at."

"RM himself said it's not formal." 

"Maybe not officially. But you know what it means to everyone else. Especially the newer ones—shows them what we're about, what matters to us."

Newer ones. The words make him hold his breath. He thinks of Yunjin's bright enthusiasm, of your sharp wit. Of how you'll probably be there tonight.

The thought doesn't help him decide whether he wants to go more, or run faster in the opposite direction.

"You seem perfectly capable of handling traditions without me."

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook." The doctor's frustration bleeds through. "This isn't about tradition. It's about you actually being part of the team for once. Don't you ever get tired of the whole lone wolf act?"

Something bitter rises in Jungkook's throat. His tongue presses against his cheek—a habit from childhood he never quite shook.

Silence. He takes a slow breath, measuring his words. 

"I'll think about showing up."

It's not a yes, but J-Hope takes what he can get. The doctor's shoulders relax slightly as he leans back, apparently satisfied with even this crumb of compliance.

"Got patients waiting," J-Hope says, collecting his things. The coffee mug scrapes against the tray. "Try to sleep before tonight, yeah?"

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound, already drifting into thoughts of empty corridors and quiet corners where he won't have to pretend to be social. Where he won't have to see AD's hatred or V's cruel smile. Where he won't have to watch you move through the crowd, chai-scented and d̶i̶s̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ irrelevant.

J-Hope's footsteps fade into the cafeteria buzz, leaving Jungkook alone with his cold coffee and colder thoughts. 

Another conversation that changes nothing, fixes nothing.

Just like everything else in his life.

"What?"

The word tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. 

Smooth, real smooth.

Chaewon snorts, eyes crinkling. "Right, keep forgetting you're still a baby gang member. Tonight's the whole 'RM took over this shitshow' party."

You frown, because seriously? Four months in and you're just now hearing about this? Some Seduction Division recruit you are.

"It's not a big deal," Chaewon adds, probably seeing the confusion on your face. "RM didn't even start it. We just got drunk on the first anniversary and now it's a thing."

Eunchae pops her head between you and Chaewon, her light brown hair tickling your cheek. "Plus, you know. Give gang members an excuse to drink and we'll run with it."

You lean back against the couch, letting your head fall back softly. 

Great. 

Another Kkangpae tradition you and Yunjin missed the memo on. At this rate, you'll still be the clueless newbies when you're both grey and wrinkled.

"So what, we just show up and get wasted?" you ask, trying to sound casual. Like you're not low-key freaking out about what to wear or how to act around the higher-ups when they're three sheets to the wind.

Chaewon shrugs, picking at her nails. "Pretty much. Some people get all fancy, others come in sweatpants. It's not like RM gives a shit either way."

A flash of bubblegum pink catches your eye. Yunjin shuffles in, hair wrapped in a towel and dripping onto her shoulders. Perfect timing, as always.

"Did someone say alcohol?" She plops down on the sofa arm, water droplets flying everywhere. "Because I'm not playing nurse again tonight."

"That was one time!" Eunchae's voice pitches up in defense. "And that mark needed me to drink!"

Kazuha snorts. "You could've said no."

"To free drinks?" Eunchae spins around, hand on her chest like she's been mortally wounded. "In this economy?"

"She's got a point," Sakura drawls from her sprawl across the couch. Her long legs dangle over the armrest, taking up way too much space.

Yunjin tugs at her towel, rolling her eyes. "Well, don't come crying to me when you're hugging the toilet later."

You can't help but laugh. These idiots are really your team now. "I take it parties get pretty wild around here?"

"Oh honey." Kazuha's lips twitch. "There's a reason strip poker got banned."

"I'm sorry, what?" Your eyes go wide. Because what.

"It was brief but iconic." Eunchae grins, nudging your shoulder. "Sakura tried to slide across a table."

"And I would've made it!" Sakura calls out, not even bothering to lift her head. "That loose board was sabotage, I swear."

"Sure, blame the table." Eunchae turns to you with a conspiratorial wink. "Just wait till you see what happens when someone breaks out the tequila."

You raise an eyebrow, already mentally noting which Council members to avoid when the drinks start flowing. 

"Thanks for the warning. I'll stay away from any furniture surfing attempts."

Your teammates' laughter fills the room, and something warm blooms in your chest. It's weird how these chaotic idiots have become your f̶a̶m̶i̶l̶y̶ friends in just four months.

Chaewon leans back, crossing her legs. "Tonight's pretty chill though. Eat, drink, try not to pass out in a bush somewhere."

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Eunchae bounces in her seat like an overexcited golden retriever.

"Open field, 8 PM." Chaewon's voice shifts into what you've dubbed her 'mom tone.' "We're doing BBQ, and there'll be enough booze to knock out a small army. Wear whatever, but bundle up—it gets cold as balls out there."

"That's two hours from now!" Eunchae flops dramatically across the couch. "Two whole hours. I'm starving now."

"Is food literally all you think about?" Kazuha rolls her eyes, but there's fondness in her tone.

"I could think about other things." Eunchae wiggles her eyebrows. "But food's never disappointed me like men do."

You snort at that. She's not wrong. In your four months here, you've learned (mostly from Yunjin's gossip) that Kkangpae men are like a box of chocolates—mostly bitter, occasionally nutty, and always complicated.

The girls dissolve into giggles again, and you find yourself joining in. Maybe it's the promise of alcohol, or maybe it's just the way these dorks make even a deadly criminal organization feel weirdly homey, but you're actually looking forward to tonight.

God help you.

It's 8:10 PM when you finally head out. You went with comfy over fancy—oversized grey hoodie over a white turtleneck, because fuck freezing to death. The thermal lining is probably the best purchase you've made since joining Kkangpae. That, and these loose jeans that actually have functional pockets.

A flash of pink appears in your peripheral vision before Yunjin loops her arm through yours, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

"Aren't you excited?" She bounces on her toes like a kid with a sugar rush. "I heard these parties are insane!"

You can't help but laugh. Her enthusiasm is s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ infectious. But the elevator dings before you can respond, doors sliding open to reveal—oh.

V lounges inside, arm draped over JM's shoulders like the Finance Chief is his personal armrest. JM seems unbothered, wearing that patient smile he gets when dealing with V's... everything. His salmon-colored hair looks soft under the elevator lights.

"Ladiessssss!" V draws out the word like he's auditioning for Parseltongue lessons. He shifts to make room, though his arm stays firmly around JM. "Coming to party with us common folk?"

"Free food's free food." You shrug, stepping in beside Yunjin who's still clinging to your arm.

She giggles at your response, squeezing your arm tighter. You catch JM's eye and nod—proper respect for a Council member and all that. He returns it with a warm smile that makes his eyes crinkle behind his round glasses.

The elevator feels smaller with four people, especially when one of them is V taking up space like it's his job. But hey, at least it's not AD. Or worse, J̶e̶o̶n̶ certain other Council members.

"Evening, JM." You smile at him, because it's hard not to. His aura always feels like a warm blanket—the complete opposite of V's chaotic energy.

"Good evening." JM's voice is soft, gentle. "I hope the night finds you well."

"What is this, fucking Shakespeare?" V waves his hand dismissively. "Save the fancy talk for business hours. Tonight's for getting wasted and making bad decisions. Luckily we will be free of certain judgemental stares."

"V." JM's warning comes with a poorly hidden smile.

"What? Just saying what everyone thinks." V grins, all teeth. "Not my fault someone walks around like they've got a steel rod up their ass."

"Pretty sure that's just the natural reaction to dealing with you for years." The words slip out before you can stop them.

"Wow. Wow." V pretends you've stabbed him in the chest. "Already picking sides? And here I thought we were gonna be besties."

You roll your eyes. "Not picking sides. Just speaking from personal experience."

"Brief experience," he corrects, wagging a finger at you. "You haven't seen all my charms yet. I grow on people, like mold."

"That's... not the selling point you think it is."

Finally the metallic doors open to the ground floor. Through the glass gates, you can see the open field where everyone's gathering. The sky's already dark, stars peeking through like tiny paint droplets.

Here goes nothing.

The field buzzes with activity, gang members scattered around like the stars peppered across the night sky. A bonfire crackles in the middle, throwing warm light over everyone's faces. The smell of BBQ makes your stomach growl—you haven't eaten since lunch.

RM's white hair catches the firelight, making him look almost ethereal. It's weird seeing him like this, gesturing animatedly as he talks. The fearsome leader of Kkangpae, actually laughing. Who knew?

Moon hovers by the drinks, playing bartender—although still maintaining his usual polite efficiency. Though tonight his smile seems more genuine, less 'I'm being nice because I'm your superior' and more 'want another beer?'

Jessi and Chaewon huddle together near the fire, probably plotting world domination or sharing gossip. The flames dance in Jessi's red hair while Chaewon leans in close, looking more relaxed than you've ever seen her during training.

V drags JM toward the grill, still attached to him like a very loud, very clingy octopus. "Make way for the master chefs!" he hollers, making JM shake his head with fond exasperation.

Your eyes scan the crowd before you can stop yourself. Looking for broad shoulders in black leather, for silver piercings catching firelight. For that scent of pine and wood that's become way too f̶a̶m̶i̶l̶i̶a̶r̶ noticeable lately.

But Jeon isn't here.

You feel something waver in your chest—disappointment maybe, or just hunger. 

Yeah, definitely hunger. 

You push the thought away and focus on the party. There's food and alcohol and your friends are here. That's what matters.

Yunjin tugs you toward the bonfire, and god, the warmth feels good after the castle's perpetual AC chill. It's weird seeing everyone so relaxed—like someone hit pause on all the gang politics and murder plots for one night.

You sink onto a log bench, letting the fire chase away the evening cold. The flames bathe everyone in soft gold, making even the most hardened killers look almost n̶i̶c̶e̶ normal for once.

J-Hope appears through the crowd like a ghost in his white medical coat, looking like he's about to collapse. The bags under his eyes have bags of their own, but he's still got that manic energy that keeps him running on fumes and spite.

He drops onto the bench nearby with a groan that sounds like his soul trying to escape. The scent of sandalwood follows him, mixing with woodsmoke.

"Rough day?" you ask, eyeing his very out-of-place doctor getup.

His laugh comes out more like a wheeze. "You could say that." He waves vaguely at his coat. "Didn't exactly get a wardrobe change break."

Yunjin giggles beside you, still clutching your arm like a pink-haired koala.

Your eyes scan the crowd again, definitely not looking for anyone s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶f̶i̶c̶ particular. "Where's the rest of the Council?"

"Well," J-Hope snorts, "AD's busy losing at League of Legends. Says he'll grace us with his presence when he's done raging at his screen."

"And Jeon?" The question slips out. Smooth. 

J-Hope answers your question with a nod toward the field entrance. Your eyes follow and—oh.

Jeon strides in with Takama, both of them loaded down with enough meat to feed a small country. The firelight catches on his silver piercings, and fuck, he shouldn't look this good just carrying groceries. Your heart does that stupid little skip thing it's been doing lately whenever he's around.

But it's like... something's different about him tonight. The usual ice-prince vibe is dialed down a notch, replaced by something almost... approachable.

Unapproachably approachable.

Takama actually has him engaged in conversation—a miracle in itself. His shaved head immediately grabs your attention as he says something that makes Jeon relax slightly.

They drop the meat by the grill, and you notice how Jeon's eyes sweep across the crowd. It's quick, casual, but you catch it anyway. There's something searching in his gaze, like he's looking for... well. Probably just checking the perimeter or whatever security shit he does.

You turn back to J-Hope, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheeks. "Even party night comes with duties, huh?"

"That's Kkangpae for you." J-Hope's voice carries a touch of dry humor. "We don't do proper days off here."

He's right. Even now, surrounded by laughter and firelight and the promise of good food, you're all still playing your parts. Though watching Jeon handle those heavy bags like they're nothing makes you think some roles aren't so bad to watch.

Get it together. 

You sink deeper into the bench, letting the bonfire's warmth seep into your bones. The sound of laughter and sizzling meat hovers around you; everyone's guard lowered just a fraction under the stars.

Takama then leads Jeon toward the fire, some members sprawled out on the grass around them like lazy cats. The deputy's eyes find yours, his smile genuine—a rare sight in your line of work.

"Ankle doing better?" he asks, and you're touched he remembers.

"All healed up, thanks." You return his smile, because Takama's one of the few higher-ups who actually seems to give a shit about the recruits.

Jeon just nods at you, dark eyes meeting yours for a split second before sliding away. You're starting to notice is his thing—minimal effort, maximum impact. Your skin prickles despite the fire's heat.

The conversation naturally flows around you, mission stories and inside jokes mixing seamlessly even between different divisions. You half-listen, too aware of Jeon's presence at the edge of the group. He pulls out his cigarettes with those r̶i̶d̶i̶c̶u̶l̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶i̶c̶e̶ steady hands, placing one between his pierced lips in a way that makes your mouth go dry.

But before he can light up, J-Hope shoots him a look that could freeze hell. Some silent doctor-patient communication passes between them, and Jeon clicks his tongue, shoving the cigarette back in its pack. Frustration flashes across his face before he quickly shoves it down. 

But you catch yourself studying him—the way his fingers fidget with the lighter he can't use, how his jaw clenches when he's annoyed. Little details that paint a picture of the man behind the cold exterior. 

Not that you're paying special attention or anything.

Moon's got a nice little bar setup going by the drinks station. You could use something to take the edge off this weird night. So you stand up, already missing the bonfire's warmth whilst stretching your arms above your head.

"Getting drinks," you tell Yunjin, who's deep in conversation with some other recruits. "Want anything?"

Her eyes light up. "Beer, please!"

You glance at Takama, still chatting with his boss. "Beer run. You in?"

"That'd be great, thanks." His smile is genuinely warm.

You look at the doctor—J-Hope's been quiet, watching everything with those too-observant eyes—and ask him too. 

"Can I grab you something?"

"I don't drink." His tone is light but final. Like a door closing.

You nod, not pushing it. Your eyes drift to Jeon last, catching him staring into the flames like they hold all life's answers. He meets your gaze for a second, and you'd swear something unreadable flickering across his face before he looks away.

"Whisky on the rocks," he mutters, barely audible over the crackling fire.

You bite back a smile. Of course he drinks whisky. Probably the expensive kind too, the pretentious a̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ guy.

Moon's showing off his bartending skills to an impressed crowd when you approach. Time to see if the Deputy Commander makes drinks as precisely as he runs operations.

His back is turned to you as you approach, mixing something that probably has enough alcohol to knock out a horse. But he moves confidently, like he's done this a thousand times before.

When he finally finishes serving another member, you step up. His serious bartender face melts into something more welcoming.

"What can I get you?" He wipes his hands on a towel, all proper and polite as usual.

"Vodka lemonade for me," you say. "Plus whisky on the rocks and two beers for the others."

He nods, already reaching for bottles. "Coming right up."

You watch him work, impressed despite yourself. "Where'd you learn all this fancy mixing stuff?"

"Been around a while," he chuckles, measuring vodka into a shaker. "It's useful—nothing settles gang politics like a good drink."

"You're really good at this," you say, leaning against the counter. "Like, seriously good."

His hands pause for a split second. A small smile tugs at his lips. 

"Thanks. It's an old passion. Actually wanted to open my own bar once—somewhere quiet, away from all..." He gestures vaguely at the chaos around you.

"That's... not what I expected." You watch him pour whisky over ice with perfect precision. 

"Life's funny that way." He slices a lemon expertly. "We all had different plans before this. Different dreams. But here we are."

Something in his voice makes you pause—because yeah, it's so easy to forget sometimes that everyone here has a story, a before. Even Moon, with his perfect posture and formal suits, had different dreams once.

The thought sits heavy in your chest as he lines up your drinks. You wonder what dreams everyone else gave up to end up here, in a criminal organization's makeshift bar under the stars.

"What about you?" Moon asks, stirring your drink now. "Got any derailed dreams?"

You consider the question, because it feels surreal to be having this kind of talk with the Deputy Commander—usually conversations here stick to missions and murder plots.

"Pretty sure we all left something behind when we joined." The words come out slower than intended. "Different paths all leading to the same fucked up destination, right?"

Moon hands you the drinks, and his expression is softer. "That's gang life for you. Trade in your old self, get a new family and some trauma in return."

"Any regrets?"

He gets this far-away look, like he's seeing something beyond the makeshift bar. Then he shakes his head. 

"Made my choice. Even the darkest paths have their bright spots."

You take the drinks, mentally filing away this unexpectedly deep conversation with Kkangpae's second-in-command. Who knew he had a philosophical side under all that formality?

"Thanks for the drinks. And the..." You gesture vaguely with your chin, since your hands are full. "This whole thing."

His smile actually reaches his eyes this time. "Anytime. Now go before those drinks get warm."

"You joining us later?"

"Once dinner's ready." He's already turning to help another member.

You nod, somehow managing to stuff the beer cans in your hoodie pocket while balancing two glasses. The bonfire calls you back, its warmth promising more interesting conversations ahead.

Though probably none as surprising as this one.

next | index

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© jungkoode 2025

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[turvi]

Hi! Shortcake here, i j wanted 2 request a rodrick x sweet reader, the kinda girl that rlly enjoys pink and skirts and things like that. Ty, have a nice day! <3

First of all, love the nickname..second thanks for the request. I hope you like this.

"Rodrick, don't blink."

"Because you are literally poking my eyes with your finger," Rodrick argued. He had agreed to let Y/n do his makeup today. He was amazed at the amount of makeup she had and was just ready to be her guinea pig.

"I'm being very gentle Rodrick, if you could just stay still then my fingers won't poke you."

He melted at her sweet voice. His eyes fluttered at her gentle touch. They were so different yet they were made for each other. He smirked as an idea crossed his mind. "You wanna use glitter next?"

Y/n gasped "Would you let me?"

Rodrick just wanted to smush her cheeks and kiss all over her face. She looked extra cute today in her all-pink attire and a matching hairband. "Of course, I would." He took out the glitter pouch from her hot pink makeup kit and handed it to her.

Rodrick couldn't help but love her more as she giggled and started applying glitter to his cheeks.

She gasped "Oh my gosh Rodrick you look so pretty."

Rodrick smushed her cheeks and smacked kisses across her blushing cheeks. "Thank you lovie."

..................................................

The next day Rodrick would glare at anyone who even tried to make a sound when they saw Rodrick in full makeup. He has always been protective of Y/n's feelings since day one.

The boys in school who called her childish and pretentious for her all-pink attire would don a purple bruise on their faces the next day.

When Rodrick volunteered to teach Y/n to play the drums he painted his spare drumsticks pink, and when she found out she kissed him until his cheeks turned to her favourite colour.

He somehow convinced Susan to get him a pair of pink socks so he could match with Y/n when she wore her own pair of pink socks.

Sure her pink aesthetic clashed with his emo aesthetic, but nothing makes him happier than seeing his girl happy when they match.

..........................................................

Once Rodrick had visited her home and he was genuinely impressed how she managed to get everything in pink and still make her room look good.

All her shampoos, her dresses and even her pillow were in various shades of pink. Rodrick nicknamed her doll because she resembled a Barbie doll. He even managed to get her a Barbie doll at Christmas that he claimed looked like her. In return, she dressed up her Ken like him, and he made sure she placed it next to her Barbie doll.

Every time he would visit her he would first make sure his Ken doll is with her Barbie doll.

Rodrick started collecting random things just because they are pink-coloured. Movie tickets, guitar picks, flowers, bottle lids etc. He would collect them and give them to Y/n the next time they meet.

He never thought he would like the colour so much, but he would bring all the pinks in the world to her just to see her smile.

A/N: REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED IF YOU LIKE THIS.

[respectthepetty]

The Heart Killers' Colors? - Finale

There comes a moment where I continuously run into walls when I'm trying to figure out the colors in a show, so I finally just start Bird-Boxing it (stop seeing the colors and just start enjoying the feels), and now that I am watching the last episode of this series, I have decided it's time to forget the colors and embrace the vibes. Therefore, I'm Bird-Boxing it.

Because if I weren't, I'd be big mad that even with the divider in the way to give me the perspective of being in prison, Kant and Style are wearing whatever colors they are wearing right now when I fully believe Kant is a Green Guy and Style is a Red Rascal.

But like most white cops, I'm only seeing what I want to.

And what I'm choosing to see is Style FINALLY wearing that amazing pink top as he openly announces that he wants to touch the man he loves to Kant (in blue?!) and this cop who I feel was not homophobic when this all started but is slowly beginning to hate the gays after having to deal with Style regularly.

But it works! And Kant is now teaching art in the prison while wearing . . . orange? Red? I don't know. I said I was Bird-Boxing this, and that's what I'm going to do, so I need to be more invested in the simple fact that Kant did not allow Bison to keep the broken pencil to shank the next man who thinks he can run up on him. Smart move, Kant. We don't want more prison time!

Fadel has been in prison for one whole day and, somehow, looks even more angelic. Baby, not murdering people looks good on you. It makes your skin glow.

Or is it love that makes Fadel look good? Because I'd also look happy if I turned a corner in prison and saw this fine man standing in front of me instead of the little bit of rage I'm currently feeling since Style is wearing green. /Bird Box\

OH THANK GOODNESS! HE HEARD ME! Style, you have always been my favorite . . . after Fadel, so you deserve to get choked by your man today (because we know you like it!).

Kant is going to stay on his bullshit I see, but I am surprised that in this GMMTV prison, they change uniforms every single year when I can't even get tres leches in this economy.

Speaking of GMMTV - Break. Up. The. Ships. We all know what I'm talking about here.

Bison has a big bro and now a big sis. I also sit like this in my chanclas and short shorts when I'm minding other people's business. I trust this one with my life and my sexual exploits.

I know prison sex is happening and that should take priority, but Kant is wearing red, which is Red Rascal Bison's color, on the day that they have sex, and I think that is peak romance. Bison and I are easy. Wear our color and have sex with us in public places, so we know it's real. Simple!

But I am shocked that Style is not having public prison sex too! Instead, he is having to handle Fadel pouting because our Black Brooder is still so scared to lose Style that he will push him away first. Style, you are now my favorite. You show that man you a crazy committed. Emphasis on "crazy."

I know that was Jojo, but I have a 30 images limit AND NOW STYLE IS WEARING RED AGAIN and lying about Fadel going to culinary school! I knew there was a reason he was my favorite. Lie, Laugh, Love, babygirl.

Babe has not been around much, but this is a deep kid with all his Shakespeare books and giving Bison The Count of Monte Cristo. Of course he would want his brother's name. He is going to do well in life because his bother raised him right and especially because while his brother honeymooned on an island for Lord only knows how long after being taken hostage, Babe was fine by himself. I didn't forget that even if the plot did.

Fadel, my little emo homo is a clear case of "you can take the black off the brooder, but he will never stop brooding" because the way he is still upset that he misses Style when he isn't around is so endearing. He needs to go back to that support group when he gets out though because this is ~trauma~ speaking.

BUT THEY'RE FREE!!!!! (and nobody is in their color because this show hates me)

I already knew Style had bought the restaurant back, so I don't know why I'm acting surprised right now, but I think it's the way Fadel is looking at him with so much love that is just hitting me right in my feels.

And even though I know now is not the time to state this as everyone is getting kidnapped, I can't help but notice Khaotung is beautiful. Not Bison. Khaotung. I did not appreciate him enough in this show. I''m sorry, beautiful.

I could tell Lilly had lost her money because her invite was in Sharpie like a last minute garage sale sign. She could've saved the paper and sent a text. Also, when did they learn English in Hitman School? Between Guns 101 and Poisons 210?

I feel this way when I visit my family too, guys. And by that, I mean awkward, hostile, and most times as if I'm there as a forced hostage. BUT BISON AND FADEL ARE WEARING THEIR COLORS!!!! Kant and Style though? /Bird Box\

Forgive me, Father, for I know this devil has done wrong, but I am still very attracted to her. I think I can save her, and if not, at least I can have a good time trying. Amen.

I thought they should've shot her in the bathroom long ago, so I ain't mad that murder is back on the (dinner) table after she was trying to kill the last living parent and Babe! She did trained her sons to finish the job, so she should at least be proud that she trained them well, but I really wanted Keen to come in and finally show her he was capable of seeing a murder all the way through. I also didn't forget abut him even if the plot did.

They just murdered their mother, so shooting the beginning of the scene behind the bars isn't funny, but what is funny is the fact that I know people with felonies can get into Iceland without a special visa unlike other countries. I learned this from a lesbian when I went there for Pride a few years ago. We were discussing sheep, so it clearly made sense within the conversation.

STYLE GOT THE CAR! THE PLOT DID NOT FORGET! And the dots on the die keychain are red!

Fadel is too pretty to be looking at his man like that after five years of being locked up. This man is about to get that good shit! Every. Single. Day.

FADEL LOVES HIM 100%!

Even though I have Bird-Boxed my way through the colors in this final episode (yes, I have), I like that the boys ended up in Iceland seeing the Northern Lights, so they have a green coloring to them (for a Green Guy?!). Also, I highly suggest going to Iceland. Björk, as an institution, makes sense once you visit. Trust me.

And now Fadel doesn't give two shits about Style driving safely because he found love in a hopeless place, and if they die in Bangkok traffic, they'll die together (since Fadel already has the graves dug).

In conclusion, Fadel is a Black Brooder, Bison is a Red Rascal, and much like Fadel in love, I don't give two effs what anybody has to say because according to me, myself, and yo, Style is also a Red Rascal, and Kant is a Green Guy.

But I wouldn't know any of that because /Bird Box\

[hobiespick]

Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 3

<33

a/n: heyyyyyy I had so much fun writting these. I am literally shaking as we speak cuz i'm still kinda shy abt this even tho yall showed me sm love and gave so much positive feedback on the first 2 parts I was giggling, blushing, and twirling my invisible phone cord. Thank you all so much for everything and enjoy my shitty thoughts 🫶💞 + tagging a lovely person who gave me the idea of writting one of these @yinorathedragontamer

Summary/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Sam Winchester x gn!reader , Sam being the biggest boyfriend of all boyfriends (im quoting one of my moots), the first headcanon isn't sam x reader it's Jess x Sam (rip to the hottest couple) the headcanon came to me in a prophetic vision and i just had to leave it here, mention of Sam's childhood + I couldn't help myself but make a few headcanons about Dean too.

- I have a deep feeling (i'm an empath) that around college when he was with Jess and he wouldn't leave her side, Sam accidentally got adopted by her girl group of friends - hear me out - he would cling to Jess for his dear life shaking and not wanting to intrude or make him look nosy and Jess's girlfriends wouldn't bat an eye, welcoming Sam with open arms and treating him the same - they are the reason his guilty pleasure is gossiping. One of Jess's (girl)friends coming hurriedly towards the group with a shocked expression and a hand covering her mouth and Sam already knows the tea is scrumptious - he probably got called "girl" so many times - he didn't mind it btw, actually kinda liked it because that means they included him - spreading my "Sam Winchester enjoys the company of female friends more than male ones agenda" like wildfire ‼️ - "wyd when me and my gang pull up" and it's five y2k girls + a preppy blonde girl whose boyfriend is some 6'4 emo kid with a Green Day tee who follows her around with heart eyes

- "Dean, move your leg or I'm throwing your fucking mixtapes out of the window" you threaten annoyed at the audacity of the long ass older Winchester to just stretch out as if you're not both (tired af) in the back seat of baby, you try to find a comfortable position for what feels like the 50th time to stay for a few hours untill all of you make it in one piece to Washington (Dean might not since he is acting like that). "You touch my mixtapes and I might throw you out of the window, runt." Dean barks (lovingly), lifting his sunglasses on his head and pointing a defensive finger at you. You are too tired to think and to retort something snarky back but still settle on rolling your eyes and giving his foot a kick.

Sam is driving like a princess in the front, his legs are streched out with his back comfortably resting against his seat with an arm lazily holding the steering wheel as the wind coming from the rolled window brushes some of his hair on his forhead, all while looking effortlessly handsome. "Don't make me come back there" Sam laughs breaking the character he wanted to play along as (hint: dads on road trips). Sam's pants would catch on fire if he said he was annoyed at your childish bickering with his brother, he found it endearing. It just added to the list of things he liked about you. You gasp a little bit too dramatically and gesture towards Dean "He started it" you grumble. Dean gives you a kick of his own pulling his sunglasses back down and crossing his arms, atleast he retreats his legs giving you enough space to rest yours.

- uses every excuse to touch you (his hands are literally twitching in anticipation to hold yours, or hug you)

- Dean is a classic rock etillist (he learned that from J*hn) but his guilty pleasure is nu metal especially limp bizkit. - he only listens when Sam isn't around. - says he's getting himself a little treat (fancy headphones) with his hard-earned money (poker/credit card fraud) - J*hn introduced him to led zeppelin and Dean feels like he's dissapointing him by not being a carbon copy of him hence his secrecy - So the "guilty pleasure" has deeper roots

- Sam told you he doesn't remember owning a childhood plushie, you fix that

- you open the door and close it with your foot, hands clinging to the bag you're holding to your chest after almost stumbling over. Sam's expression changes into a smile upon your arrival, kinda like a golden reriever. He gets up from the reasearch papers scatterred around the table no longer the center of his attention to greet you.

"Hey" the word 'sweetheart' almost sneaks out of his mouth but he contained himself with grace, god forbid he makes you uncomfortable (he's alot like you y'know? ). "Hi" you reply breathlessly due to your almost stunt and the fact that Dean took Baby out so you had to walk back to the motel in the humid weather of Washington. You take off your shoes and set the bag on the table, Sam's nosy self is itching to see what's inside. Before you open anything you make sure to peel off the hoodie you have on and rest it on a chair. "I got something but i need you to close your eyes and lay out your hands please." You start already bitting back a smile with a tinge of nervousness at what his reaction could be.

Yes, you got Sam a plushie. You got matching ones, the one for Sam is a brown moose with dark brown glass eyes that kept reminding you of him. The one you got for yourself is a same-zise moose plushie in your favourite color. What's even more cuter is that both of the plushies came as a package and they can stick their hands together with the magic of little pieces of square shaped tape on each their hands (hooves?). Sam is scared and excited at the same time. He will thank you for whatever you got him, he raised himself to be gratefull, it's just that growing up he learned and was usually met with dissapointment. John not showing up for his soccer game and neither Dean because he is hunting with him? Yeah he knows. Not even a call from his dad on his 21st birthday? Yeah he expected that. But he knows you, and the amount of times you have dissapointed him. (hint: zero)

So he does as you told him to. He extends his hand and turns it over, his other arm resting by his side. He closes his eyes and does not open them once. Sam was that kinda kid at the playground, so fair and by the rules it's almost suspicious. He can hear the noise of the brown paper bag crinkling and somehow imagine the sight of you smilling brightly, a sight that almost bribes him to open his eyes and see for himself. He focuses on the sound untill he feels the soft velvet material of the plushie in his hands. He doesn't even open his eyes yet he just furrows his eyebrows in confusion as his fingers pet the fabric of the stuffed animal.

You stand there, the biggest most nervous smile planted on your face as you wait for his verdict. "Sam, you can open your eyes now." you speak loud enough for him to hear, and he does open them, they glisten wet under the crappy motel room light. He has this mix of sadness and joy on his face at the same time as he cranes his neck to look down at the stuffed animal in his hands, he can envelope it entirely if he tried. You wish you could read thoughts right now, to make Sam open up his brain to you and show you how he feels about this, whether the reaction is negative or positive, you just want (need) to hear him speak, fuck, he can even yell at you if that is what he chooses to do (he wouldn't in a million years). Regret hits you like a hurricane after a few seconds of silence, that's the last thing you wanted to do, make Sam remember what a shitty childhood he had with just a stuffed animal, a fucking toy. The thought that this could come off as a reminder for him that's like 'Hey buddy, your childhood is so fucked up I felt sorry for you, here' didn't even occur you. All you wanted to do is give him something normal, to make him feel normal, a feeling he has been chasing all of his life. You bought two matching moose plushies with the thought that you're gonna match with your bestfriend, you're going to share some normalacy with your bestfriend in your world, your monsters are real world.

You wanted to build a time machine and rescue little Sam and Dean from the fucking monster John Winchester was. Yes, John Winchester loved his boys, but neglect and love don't mix. Leaving a 10 year old to look out for a 6 year old isn't love, taking your children with you to fucking hunt and kill fairy tale monsters isn't love. "Sam?" You call out quietly, nervousness already visible in your body language. Sam shots his head up at the mention of his name and most importantly the tone of your voice. He gives you a weak tight lipped smile (as if the sight would spare you having to worry about him, as if you don't feel the need to bang your head against a wall whenever you see Sam in any kind of pain) and wipes a tear that runs down his cheek with the cuff of his hoodie. "Sam- I'm sorry- I thought-" You justify yourself and attempt at swallowing the lump formed in your throat, you rub your sweaty palms on your jeans and feel like the biggest asshole in the world. You awkwardly take a step closer untill you take in consideration the idea that getting closer might be the last thing he needs right now so you step right back. Sam's tears taste sweet, he can confirm it himself. The way you spent time and money going to provide him with something he was wrongfully stolen off of having when he was only a kid made him tear up in the spam of a few seconds. You asked, he answered, you felt sorry, he desperately wants you to comfort him, then you do something to make him feel appreciated/cherished. He glances at you and sees the state you're in. His legs instinctively take three long strides towards you and envelopes you in the most comforting embrace anyone has ever gave you. You don't need to be psychic or practice insane voodoo/hoodoo to know exactly how this made him feel, it's all in this hug. You hug him back and Sam starts rubbing circles with his index finger on your back, he is crying his eyes out and he's still comforting anyone but himself. You hear his sniffles as he agressively wipes his nose with his cuff. "Thank you" he croaks out, his tone hoarse and raspy. He rests his head on top of yours and you can feel him finally relax. You can also tell he has no intention of breaking the hug anytime soon but that is your last worry. You made Sam happy tonight and that's all it matters.

- you and Sam are the golden retriever + black cat duo the world needs. - grocery trips with him (he doesn't need anything, just wanted to go with you) that are fun and weirdly domestic. - it's all making jokes and finding eachother the snacks you usually eat untill someone bumps into him and HE apologizes. "Sorry" he says giving the dude that's shorter than him a tight lipped smile. The dude presses "Almost dropped my shit 'cause of you assh-" You cut him off by clearing your throat and making him turn around his face dropping as he notices your glare at him. "He said he was sorry." You chide (threaten) with a scarily blunt tone, you have no idea how someone can even dare to look the wrong way at Sam, he's too tall for his own good and he's built like a brick wall. "Whatever" the dude leaves scoffing , your expression softening as soon as your eyes settle on Sam. He has a stupid dorky look on his face and adoration in his eyes, his hands shoved in his jean pockets towering over you almost awkwardly. "Ugh. What is it today asshole day?" You joke breaking the silence, (yes, you're quoting kat stratford) Sam just laughs and nods, you could say it's Christmas and he would believe you. "Looks like it." He agrees, not even caring for that asshole that he could've handled himself just fine, he hunts monsters for a goddamn career. He just adores the way you jumped to take his side.

- expressing your wish to find or atleast thrift a brown carhartt jacket similar to Sam's, only for him to offer giving it to you whenever you wanna wear it.

- "S'okay you can wear it i don't mind, you just have to ask me before, yeah?" - he also can't stop blushing at the sight of you in his already baggy jacket appearing more larger on you.

- the jacket engulfs you in this sense of security and an addictive smell of Sam (his fav earthy cologne) - the way you're looking good, happy, and warm in his jacket makes Sam's heart skip a few beats. - Dean smirks and compliments you, having to take a double look to confirm it's infact Sammy's jacket on you "Looking good, Y/n" he smiles and sends Sam a wink you're to oblivious to notice but you do notice the tone he uses, replying back skeptically "Thanks?" but you shrug it off asking Sam if he wants to come with you to this fast food place to bring back dinner.

- When Dean's brain cells put 2 and 2 togheter and realizes you and Sam are absolutely pining for eachother he purposefully does alot of stuff so you're stuck spending time with Sam and vice versa. It's either an easy move to make you two go out/stay in or it's a geniusly absolutely malefically strategically thinked and mastered 50 step plan that has atleast 20 plan B's in case anything goes wrong but we all know he doesn't need them, the mission goes smoothly each time. if Winchesters are anything, it's stubborn, incredibly and stupidly stubborn so Dean is not giving up on making one of you confess to eachother and if you don't he might take matters in his own hands and scream it out loud enough for You and Sammy to hear.

- he is so eager, the first time you kissed him he automatically assumed he's your boyfriend. - "Is that any way to speak with your boyfriend?" With a jokingly hurt face and a dramatically placed hand on his chest when you're being too mean. - "As your boyfriend and your lore boy.." - "I'm Sam, their boyfriend.." when he's introducing himself to person he knows has certain intentions with you or somebody making you uncomfortable.

- you pulled a muscle in your shoulder while on a hunt and stubbornly denied anything ever hurted even when Sam asked. - you keep rolling your shoulder when Sam says "Looks like you pulled something alright. You probably shouldn't move too much, you'll just make it worse." You scoffed at that, no way Sam for real? I had no idea I had to do that, thank god a smart boy like yourself is right beside me. "Are you mansplaining to me how to let a pulled muscle heal?" You retort, mainly because of the pain partially cause mansplaining is unnecessary and ignorant. And when Sam thought he couldn't like you any more than he already does you proved him wrong. He only chuckled, amused by your snarky reply, even going as far as to apreciate your attitude. "I'm not mansplaining anything, I'm just stating facts. Even a five year old could tell you that overusing a muscle will make the pain worse." He teased back.

- He enjoys the intimacy between the two of you when there are jokes and certain things you and him can laugh about because you're both huge nerds.

- Bobby let's you borrow whatever books you want from his huge ass library (mans probably got illegal books there)

- Bobby and Dean give eachother knowing looks whenever you and Sam literally do anything togheter, you and him pretend not to notice, not even mentioning it.

- guys i wanna cuddle with Sam Winchester so bad it's not even funny anymore *sobbing while my eyeliner mixed with tears is running down my face*

- he's a big cuddlebug I am willing to bet all my life savings and my first born he is. - the way you feel so safe and comforted when his light pole build wraps two arms around you, holding you close, trying to get you impossibly closer. - his hugs are the same, tender yet firm reflecting on his gentle nature. - just spoons you when he finds you on the couch sleeping with a bunch of research papers scattered and dusty old books around you which he tosses aside, because he is too proud to ask for cuddles.

- you wake up in the middle of the night you have no idea what time is it, you have one missing sock, your throat is dry, and you feel an arm draped over your waist getting tighter around you the more you twist around. And that's when you hear it, it's right next to your ear, Sam's low sleepy hum as he stirrs behind you, nudging his face deeper into your neck. You have no choice but to lay there untill he wakes up 'cause there is no escaping.

a/n: again i'm posting this shaking, this took so long I was scared I wasn't gonna finish it. They are so long they might not classify as headcanons but i couldn't care less. The plushie one made me feel like hamilton while writting it lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed!! 💞 feedback would be very much appreciated<33

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi..do you accept request?

If you do could you make Xiao is the father of creator child?

Thank you

The creator had a:

Birdly child

WC: ~700

I'm in love with how two asks came at the same time about Xiao, it's time to give the emo baby some love

I remember reading hatchlings often have rough feathers and aren't as photogenic as grown ups until the first feathers fall off.

“Bright yellow eyes aren't all that uncommon too” furina looks over your shoulder as you nurse your daughter, she would say she looks surprisingly unremarkable if that didn't sound like an insult of sorts even if it was true, dark blue hair and striking yellow eyes but nothing much. For one minute she hoped she would come out with long blue streaks and sharp angled ears, even if only so she could tease Neuvillette about his meeting with you.

“I’m happy enough that her face is similar to their grace” the tsaritsa sits beside you, a tea cup between her hands, as bitter as she seemed to whoever she expected was your lover her confirmation to the baby shower was the first to arrive, a few plushies and older baby clothes.

Zhongli stands just behind furina, watching her face as you burp Xuezhui, the little lift at the end of her eyes making them slightly sharper than they are, reminding him of a certain someone. Snow and bird, Aren't you a bit too on the nose? Oh, well, at least his dear apprentice and friend found some happiness. 

His gold eyes look at furina, a soft smile forming “I think she looks so cute, like a finch hatchling” his hand getting close to her and lightly brushing her rough hair with one finger, such a tiny baby.

“I never said she isn't!”

“Did you want to see me, Morax?” Xiao appears beside zhongli, Xuezhui was getting fuzzy and you decided to put the baby to sleep before returning to the archons, during that time they divided to do as they pleased, and by the steaming teapot Xiao could guess he decided to enjoy some tea 

“Take a seat”

“Is anything wrong?”

“I see you truly took it to heart to protect their grace, even spent the night in their room to be sure” zhongli swirls the golden tea inside the cup. The noise of the slight splashing drowned by the noise of him choking on his spit.

“My apologies, Rex Lapis, it wasn't meant to-” quickly he bows, his forehead touching the table but zhongli cuts him with a small smirk.

“when two finches love each other very much they spend the night together and-” 

“I'm already repenting, please…”

The night is warm and clear, the crescent moon on full display and your baby isn't in her crib yet you aren't truly worried after walking to the balcony and seeing a figure seated on the edge of the nursery's roof.

Xiao holds his daughter to his chest while trying to manage the wild mane of blueish hair she has, the exact same he had as a kid but chose to cut. Now, to some extent he wishes he listened to guizhong when she spoke of hairstyling. 

For now he settles with two pigtails on either side of her head, one lower than the other but his daughter was starting to wriggle around and start pushing her head against his neck, wanting to return to her crib and sleep. 

“Is she looking at me?” Arlecchino asks as she feels a gaze burning on her neck, usually if it was one of her children she would tell them off for being so obvious but for it to be a rather spoilt toddler who isn't training to be a spy she couldn't say much.

“Ah, apologies about it, she is going through a phase of watching everyone” there is your kid, her hair on two braids and her yellow eyes watching owlishly.

“You know, if you lent her to me I could train her, she seems to be a natural” she teases you.

“Oh, don't even worry” as you return to the conversation without paying her too much mind you can still see her unblinking amber eyes from the door.

“Stop crawling over your crib’s railing, you are going to hurt yourself!” You scold your toddler, one leg and an arm over the railing attempting to escape nap time “go to sleep, you are in a bad mood if you don't nap”

she mumbles something you guess was her saying she wanted to play or crawl around but you don't follow her game.

“I don't care! To bed, young missy or your little night scrolls with your dad are done!” she huffs and sits down her back facing you.

[sonic-takeover]

Jacob From Twilight core...

Jet... lets, lets not do this... atleast ask permission my dude😕

Sonic are you okay? is your mouth okay? no scratches or anything?? :((

-🍽️(mod ur cooking)

*Sonic feels like he can't move for a moment. Jet is kissing him. His hand is gripping Sonic's arm as if he's terrified he'll leave. Sonic feels that familiar pain of Jet's beak pressing sharply against his lips. At any other time in his life, maybe this would have just been annoying. Maybe a bit tempting. But now? It's just.. wrong*

*Sonic shoves Jet backward, wincing as his beak slices his lip* What the hell!! Did you not see my damn boyfriend, Jet?? What in gaia's name do you think is going on right now??

*Jet shakes his head* We were having a moment!

No, we weren't! I agreed to a race, not... *He gestures to the whole scene* this!!

You and I were great before! Let's just go back! Forget that prissy emo brat. I'll even make a public announcement, since that bothered you so much before!

Wh-?? No! What's wrong with you??

Nothing! Hmph.. Just come be my boyfriend aga- *He reaches over to try and grab him again, but Sonic punches him in the face. Hard. Jet stumbles back, eyes wide. He stares at Sonic for a moment, then growls and runs at him, throwing a punch of his own*

*The punch lands, but Sonic comes back with a spin dash, knocking the wind out of him. Jet coughs as Sonic grabs his chest fluff, glaring into his face* Don't. You. Dare. Mess with me or my family again. Hear me?

Aack.. you.. you're just.. angry I'm prettier than him.. hah.. you.. lost..!

*Sonic is about to punch him again, but a red blur smashes into Jet, taking him away from Sonic. Shadow has Jet by the throat, shoving him through a few trees before they land on a boulder just within the treeline. Sonic watches as Shadow decks Jet over and over, ignoring Jet's attempts to fight back* Keep your hands off my Sonic!!

*Sonic runs over, grabbing Shadow's arm, trying to keep him from going to far* Shadow! Sunshine.. hey.. look at me.. *Shadow looks up at him. His eyes are glowing with rage. Sonic smiles, holding Shadow's hand to his chest* I'm okay.. I think he's learned his lesson.. okay..?

*Shadow's hard breathing starts to slow and he looks down at the mess of Jet's face* .... Fine. *He gets off of Jet, then lunges toward him to make him flinch* ..Heh. Coward.

Nyeh! Speak for yourself, you- *They're both glaring at him* ............ Hmph!! Screw this! I'm getting my board. *He scrambles to run away*

*They watch him go. Shadow looks back at Sonic, studying his face* .... Does your lip hurt?

... Uh- He.. I didn't..

I saw. Tails sent drones to make sure you were okay.

..... I'm sorry.. *he looks away, but Shadow touches his cheek, gently lifting his face to look in his eyes*

Sonic. You did not do this. He did. I don't care what you were before. His behavior was incorrect.

..... Yeah.. *he hugs Shadow, burying his face in his shoulder* ... Can we go home..

... Yes.

[neonzparkoflife]

ppffggg stennyyy stenny stenny stan and kenny kenny and stan yk yk yk stennyyy

I madr... stenny timeline....... sighss... now i gotta share it..... just a simplified version STENNY FANS I CALL UPON YE PLEASE 🌟 LISTEN TO MY PLEAS!!!!

-so throughout elementary school Kenny has a really childish crush on him, but he kind of just brushes it off as a "wow, stan is really good at being a boy. I wish I could be a boy like that" cuz he's transmasc

-like halfway through middle school kenny stops wearing his parka and his face is more visible with a hoodie (even though he's the kid who constantly gets in trouble for having his hood up in class) and coincidentally Stan starts hanging out with him more during his emo phase (Kenny paints his nails black for him and listens to him vent) and they get a lot closer. In the back of his head he's like wow Kenny is actually kind of pretty. Neat!

-in high school they end up not hanging out as much cuz Kenny's taking harder classes and trying to keep a job (difficult because he keeps missing shifts when he dies) and Stan's on the football team but they still stay in touch. After a pretty shitty game Kenny decides to call up Stan to check on him and they meet at the pond. Kenny is talking to him about something but that's the night he realizes he like likes Kenny.

-after that they basically stop hanging out and every time they're together the conversation is like "Hey.." "hi.." "okay" "yeah" because Stan can't be around him without feeling incredibly nauseas. He kind of just waits around hoping Kenny will come around one day like "Stan we should kiss" because Stan CANNOT initiate this.

-a whole year of this goes by until a few weeks into their senior year of high school because he'd overheard Kenny saying something about being bored and lonely and decided he hated that and impulsively invited Kenny to his house for dinner. Kenny's excited because he's like yay! We're getting closer again! Then he is doing like typical "joke" flirting with Stan, who is like "Haha are you serious?" And he's just like "Oh i'm dead serious."

-then they go to college together and share a dorm and its great at first. They go home a lot to visit and go to parties together every now and then. ITS GREAT but then things get really bad. Their second and third years are basically just them suffering big time from depression and their issue is that they're both trying to do whats best for the other at the sacrifice of themselves.

-They get out of it eventually! Kenny makes sure Stan is eating and staying in touch with people and Stan is giving him lots of reassurance that they both have a future

-5DOF happens directly after college and they've moved into an apartment together but eventually save up for a pretty good (albeit small) house but it doesn't matter since they practically live in each other's asses

-over the years their house lowkey just becomes a glorified animal shelter with the two of them just picking up random strays all the time. I won't go through everything but the star of the show is a three legged dog named Stormy! I'll probably draw all of their little guys at some point and label it as fankids whatever

Now guys when I tell you this is 538 words of stenny please keep in mind the original timeline I wrote was 6,089. This is nothing to me. You guys don't even get to see the full vision. Not even close. I don't mess around with Stenny.

Farewell.

[silverview]

i thought i'd do a self-indulgent little roundup post about my birthday, so i can look back on it someday and get emo about how lovely it was :')

concludes with my s/f report from the thursday evening show, all spoilers clearly marked!!

on the day itself i got some amazing gift fics from @donotbelasagne, @batatadulce9 & @kookaburrito (in order of posting), which was completely unexpected & wonderful 💕💕 if you like freaky rpf then you probably know where to find them! AND...

kooka also sent me this reece locket and this AMAZING lazoo doll which. i actually started yelling when i opened it & saw what it was. LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT MY HORRID BABY

this is why i had to post the stitchup showdown opening, to at least provide context if not an explanation for my love for him 💗

my bf got me some amazing presents too, and we saw stage/fright – his 1st time, my 5th. details about the show further down, but first...!!

💕 REECE HUGGED ME!! 💕 and wished me happy birthday!!! 💕 he is the absolute sweetest and i just... yeah no words. i have rewatched the video of it a million times already. i was wearing heels so it was a biiit of a stretch for him to reach 🙈

i think this confirms he's not on ao3 lol because when i said "it's my birthday!" he didn't go pale and say "YOU! >:O"

on friday i had the best day with the lovely @spcvarney 💗 & we did a tour of the wyndham's!! she posted about this already, but the staff told us that reece has been claiming to feel ghosts touching his shoulder & stuff in the theatre 👻 of course he has

supposedly he had the same experience back in 2005 when he did as you like it there. no wonder he seems so happy there. they said that the alleged ghost has a history of reacting badly to swearing, and especially to the word cunt. 🫢

they let us go onstage, which was amazing. they asked us not to take photos of the stage/fright set & props. so of course i didn't. :) it really is an amazingly beautiful place

yesterday was my birthday party & it was rlly nice to see my family & friends, including some wonderful in9 fans, and i had the BEST time nerding out with them in person 💗 @wintersoulwitch managed to come by IN BETWEEN the evening & matinee s/f performances which was actual legend behaviour, & their varney tshirt was easily a highlight of the whole experience

at the party itself i found out that i didn't just pass my january exams (the ones that made me wish i was dead), i actually nailed them 😭😭

@mifhortunach came a long way for the party & i can't say how exciting that was 🥹❤️ we've been friends for the longest time & every time we hang out irl i have so much fun. they were the one who introduced me to in9 in the first place, so that was a nice full circle moment 😅

today i was so wrecked that i slept all morning & only woke up in time to see them off. it has been a very... VERY intense three days & this post can't possibly capture it all but yeah, these are just some highlights

i feel really lucky. i love my friends, including the ones not mentioned here & the ones who don't know that i think of them as friends. idk how i come across on here, or in person. i'm not someone who has never been deeply lonely & shy & insecure. being in this fandom is one of the strangest & loveliest things that's ever happened to me, because the people are amazing. sometimes i think about how it won't last forever, but that's okay, i'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts

my time gets stretched pretty thin. i'm never on here as much as i'd like to be, & i usually don't reply to people as fast as i'd like to. a lot of in9 fans are in the uk, so my nocturnal habits are pretty antisocial. thanks for being kind to me & patient with me :')

⚠️ stage/fright spoilers beyond this point!!! ⚠️

thursday eve was a GREAT performance!! the audio is mostly me + my bf cackling with joy. the audience were well up for it. really enthusiastic, laughing a lot. the whole play felt looser and more energetic than usual, everyone in the cast was clearly vibing

reece especially – marcus was sassier and more over-the-top than usual, and he corpsed a bunch during kidnappers, covering his mouth with his hand. on "i know how to answer the phone" he did a little jig for no reason and then burst out laughing at himself

speaking of kidnappers, the guest was julian clary (jewel ink lairy) and he was FANTASTIC, so so funny. he called s&r "heterosexual cunts" & i think the looks on their faces can best be described as delighted astonishment

i should point out that my straight, non-fandom, comedy writer bf feels that the "pudgy & homosexual" line IS most likely a reference to s&r themselves 💁🏻‍♀️

hugo's gloves were among the props left out onstage. plus the ghost light, gramophone, creepy jars, and trepanning chair from that segment. and the hare (we think it was The Hare)

the boys skipped some fairly important dialogue in their last scene: the reference to bcdr and the explanation as to why the song was cut. not sure what happened but i think reece just fastforwarded a bit by mistake. it still worked and it was still absolutely perfect. ❤️

i had happy tears in my eyes all through the song. reece was audibly belting it out and clearly having the time of his absolute life.

when miranda hennessy came out of the stage door, there was a huge cheer from a group of women across the alley who yelled "we know her!" she ran over to them & they all hugged & laughed & they said how proud they were :')))

[halliescomut]

Escape and Cinema Concept Pics

Okay...I have less of an idea what's happening with these in terms of predicting any throughline to the MVs (especially with Escape) but I do have a lot of emotions about them. As in my previous post about Burnin' Tires and Truman, I'll be grouping things into three categories- environmental/vibes, duo pics, and glamour shots.

Escape

Starting with vibes/environmental, I don't really know what the fish tank is about. In the portion of the unveil where they're observing it from either side I was immediately reminded of the party scene from Baz Luhrmann's Romeo and Juliet where Romeo first sees Juliet, and the fish tank getting a kind of place of prominence in the concept pics is interesting. If you do consider the basic theme of escape with the bits of lyrics we got in the unveil...it does kind of make me think of the idea of the fish are essentially trapped in the tank...and realistically that tank doesn't have enough decoration to really meet their needs.

The second vibes pic is a pretty clear visual reference to Red Lights and like...the vibes are pretty gay. There's really not much else to say there.

This picture...feels to me like a vibes pic vs a duo pic since we're not seeing their faces, so I'm going to view it from that angle. And this I think is going to sound kind of insane...but it's giving Hyunjin is on a leash, and even something like werewolf vibes. I don't think that's part of the story of the MV, but if you take some of these moments from the unveil and the pic above and consider 'what if Hyunjin were a dog?' Like it gives the vibes of playing with your pet. And there's almost a feeling of Hyunjin being unleashed. So if you think of it almost in like he's a guard dog type of way. I know this sounds vaguely insane coming from the 'the vibes are gay' point but like....the more I watch the more I see little touches that feel like they match up.

Okay, we're moving on to the duo pics because I can't keep trying to explain the dog analogies happening. Honestly these are just kinda cute. But to the question of what can I glean from them...the setting is giving grocery store...which does give me questions about why there's a fish tank. I'm also curious about the lighting. We do have the red, but there's also a lot of red and green, and i wonder if that has a specific correlation.

Now glamour shots for Chan- this is giving so much emo boy. again we've got the red and green on opposite sides with the little fish tank plants and the lighting. We don't get a lot from the styling, like I can't see a lot of the details, but the pants are very distressed which makes sense for the post-apocalyptic feel, and the leather jacket does lean into a military/aviation style, which when you pair it with the necklace that definitely looks like a dogtag is interesting.

You can't tell me this picture doesn't read 'werewolf'...this is WolfChan.

Now to Hyunjin- this first one, definitely more glamour shot-esque. Love that Hyunjin is still able to source Versace in the apocalypse. The second one...are you really telling me that's not puppy? Like...he looks like he's grumpy because you put him outside on his lead and he just wants to come in.

But this second look that we also get a bit of a close-up of is great. I love the texture of the distressing on the coat, it's so good visually. I love that he's got the coats layered, it adds a specific sort of interest to the looks. The close-up I do think is the showstopper, and yes that's partly because it's Hyunjin's face, but also because of the vibes it brings. My initial connection was Hancock or Jessica Jones, Marvel Netflix series, not because I think they're replicating the look, but mostly by vibes. Like it's giving superhero, but not the cleaned-up fancy presentable kind like Iron Man or Captain America or Superman.

Cinema

I do realistically think that cinema is going to be pretty amazing both in terms of the song itself and the MV. They're also playing in this dystopian vibes that seem to be a throughline for the MVs. A lot of things are old rundown or broken. But...it's not necessarily feeling like an apocalypse roadtrip movie, but more of a leaving your hometown to pursue your dream kinda movie. I'm aging myself, but Crossroads was the first example I could think of, though clearly that's much different visually.

Honestly, much like the unveil itself...the duo concept pics aren't giving us a lot. Truly, all of it just feels very cinematic. I felt like the unveil felt cooler in tone, but the pictures do have a lovely soft warmth. I just know this MV is going to be absolutely beautiful to look at.

Seungmin solo pics- these first two doing seem to be more look how pretty Seungmin is...and like yes. I love the textures of his outfit so much. Like that coat is so warm and cozy while also being incredibly practical and I love it. I feel like we're also seeing more jewelry on Seungmin here than we normally do, the layered necklaces are so good. And like...one of them is very intentionally give collar, not in a bdsm dynamic type of way, but just visually it is constructed to look like a collar.

These picture though...this looks like it's from the same point and place as the duo pic above where they're sitting in what looks like a parking lot with a makeshift stage set up and it makes me think of them heading out to try and follow their performance dreams, but the world is in an apocalypse so getting signed by some record label isn't really in the cards so instead they set up a stage and perform just to perform.

The makeup for both of them I love, the sort of red-tinge from being out in the cold. It's a blush look we've seen a lot over the past few months and I just really like it.

Lee Knows outfit has a lot of different and interesting elements, the shirt under his leather jacket is this ruffled almost floral texture. Like it's a mix between a tuxedo-print tee-shirt and an actual ruffled tuxedo shirt. And most often, at least in ready-to-wear, the edges of the ruffles would be sealed so they won't fray, but here you can see them sort of fraying, which adds another to the texture. Fantastic.

Lastly, I adore this look. I like the long white blouse that adds movement under the structure of the blazer. I loved the frayed edges of the seams and edges of the blazer. The painting is great. It has aspects that feel intentional, like it was purchased that way, and then other parts that look like they've been added over time. I also kind of wonder if all of it is original to the piece or if it was customized for Lee Know, because we do have this fun little bunny on the right sleeve that I would 1000% believe Lee Know drew on with a white-out pen.

Final thoughts-I have many theories but nothing I'd be willing to bet real money on. I'm excited to get to finally hear the songs in about 12 hours from when I'm posting this, and also excited to see the MV's as the roll out over the next few days.