#hes the light of my life and the thing that makes it feel whole. hes beautiful and genuine and i love him more than ive ever loved anything
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
first and foremost, the color scheme for this series is GORGEOUS, the purple pairs well with the angst of the series and i’m so ready for it (also so proud that u learned how to get the gradient function!! ☺️)
secondly, how DARE u not tag me i am flabbergasted, heartbroken, overlooking the golden gate bridge rn
ANYWAYS, i have seven minutes before lecture starts so here’s my lousy and incoherent annotations below ⬇️
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
i’m so ready to see how toxic this can get
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
love a reader who knows what she wants and goes after it
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
oh god
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
my stomach is doing flips
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
i would need a gun
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
i would crash out so hard rn
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
SICKENING
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
i support women’s wrong to do mass destruction
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
THIS IS MAKING ME UNBELIEVABLY SICK
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
this paragraph is so beautifully-crafted i had to highlight it - okay back to our regularly scheduled program
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
TOXICITY’S FINEST COUPLE
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
exactly he’s YOURS (mine…?)
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
you fucking NARC
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
she’s so me
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
oh my god i fear i need her to do the best revenge arc
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
again, i’m always in awe of ur descriptions it makes me so giggly and excited to see how well u constructed ur setting
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
should’ve bought a glock w those pregnancy tests - i would start TWEAKING so hard
💌 — this fic is BEAUTIFUL (ohmygod my professor arrived, let me make this QUICK) i absolutely love how u created this atmosphere of anger, resentment, desperation and neediness. because u captured the angst incredibly well, and how u built up to it—the aches, the emotions—were well-paced and made you feel everything on a deeper, more slowburn way. i also LOVE how the interconnectedness of how topper and rafe are best friends, and she’s his COUSIN, and how this man SNITCHED to rafe when she was driving away. i love-hate that scene bc it builds so much more tension, but i would be fucking pissed at topper. lastly, as always your descriptions are one of my favorite parts of your writing and i highlighted them for my annotations. so so PROUD of u for starting this series and i will make u complete even if its the last thing i do 🔪
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst)
The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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kuroo texts you at 3:52 am, almost three months after you broke up.
admittedly, you probably should've silenced notifications from him by now, but when you roll over—eyes barely open, a little headache from the light—you know you're much, much too late.
a text, from your ex-boyfriend, the big, blue bubble stretched across your phone.
i just moaned your name during sex.
you blink at the screen.
you what?
moaned your name, he sends. totally ruined the moment.
you look up, and then down, and then up one more time to make sure what you’re looking it is real and not some strange, midnight hallucination before typing again.
you’re fucking with me, right?
dead serious, he replies. worst moment of my life.
you can hear his voice in the text, and if you weren’t so caught up in thinking about the poor girl who probably just had the worst sexual experience of her life, you would laugh.
you need to find a hobby or something, tetsurou. you send. and preferably one that doesn't involve tinder.
i have hobbies!
non-sexual ones?
he types for a while before a short, little totally! pops up on his side of the conversation.
and you hate that this is the part of him that’s most intriguing. the unintentional charm, too weird for his own good part that keeps you texting him at four in the morning.
yeah, you send, quicker than you intended. totally.
and suddenly, you're really considering something you shouldn't. before tonight, you hadn't heard from in a while—at least not enough to be thinking about him. you'd resigned yourself to your little, single life and you figured boyfriends might be more harm than they're worth (at least for a while, anyway), but now you have a new little do you wanna come over? typed out into your messaging app, finger hovering over the send button.
you take a minute, trying to rationalize.
the responsible part of you thinks it's way too late to be asking for anything good. you have class in the morning, and you're all tucked into bed, and bringing him here would really stir up some old feelings you weren't looking to bring back right now.
the other part of you—the more fun of the two, you'll admit—knows that you're thinking about him and he's... definitely thinking of you, so what's the harm in indulging a little bit? maybe nothing would happen anyway and you'd just end up staring at each other for a while, but sitting in your bed alone, staring doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world.
you send the text.
there's radio silence for a moment, and you think you might have just fucked the whole we can be exes and friends! thing up, but after a moment or two, he replies.
really?
and you sigh, don't make me change my mind.
he sends an immediate be there in 10, and you flop yourself back into the pillows.
now, okay, you'd be lying if you said you haven't been in this situation before. you and kuroo have always had a strange habit of—gravitating towards each other, to put it politely. it doesn't matter how many times you guys swear each other off, there's always going to be a party, or a text, or a run-in at the grocery store that brings you together (in more ways than one).
the whole i just moaned your name thing, though, that one's new.
your eyes flicker up to the ceiling, then down to your feet, and then, finally, your phone—the reality of this whole thing sinking in a little.
are you supposed to—shave your legs for this? put on your good pajamas: the ones that ride up a little when you bend over? is that where this is going? you're pretty sure it is, but every time this has happened before, it's been a little more spontaneous than this. right now, you have time to prepare and time to think, which you're now realizing is something you really did not want.
you sit there for a minute, coming to the conclusion that this is kuroo. you dated for two years, and you shared a bed at night for more of that time than you'd care to admit, so what does it matter how prepared you are?
you hear a key turn in the front door (the one from under the mat; you took away his actual key you think) and, all of a sudden, you're kind of nervous.
you haven't felt this way in a while, especially when it comes to him. you think you might hate it.
nevertheless, your feet hit the floor and you let yourself pad your way into the entryway, just in time to see someone sliding his shoes into the gap between the doorway and the wall.
you flick the light on, and he jumps a little.
a beat of silence, and then, "hi."
that's all you can come up with right now, truly, and you blame half of it on the time and the other half on the fact that kuroo looks like that.
he's always been pretty, no doubt about that, but right now he looks a little beat up in a way that you have to admit you're kind of into.
his hair's messed up: half of it shifted more left than right, with a little curl to it that he doesn't normally have. his cheeks are red, and he's a sort of out of breath and—did he run here?
"hi," he says, smiling, heaving out a breath.
(oh, he totally did. maybe you're a little more alluring than you thought).
you chuckle out one more, final hi, before he steps towards you.
he smells good—not that that's something you focus on, obviously—but he's still wearing that cologne you bought him last christmas and there's a little tinge of sweat to him that suits him so much better than you'd think.
he has a t-shirt on—one you got from a concert a couple years ago; you can't remember exactly when anymore, but it's clear that the thing has gotten its wear. the hole in the left shoulder is glaring at you from here and you kind of want to poke it.
"i have your key, by the way," he says then, dangling the little thing between his fingers. "did you ask for it back?"
oops.
"i—meant to." you snatch it from him, tossing it onto one of the side tables. "definitely meant to."
his hand lingers there for a second, a big, toothy smile spread across his face. "oh, sure you did."
and you eye him, a short what's that supposed to mean? rolling out of your lips.
he shakes his head, moving closer again—so much so that you can feel the cast of his breath along your cheeks.
"you still like me," he says, and you swear you can see his vocal cords bob in his throat.
"pardon?"
"you think i'm fun—and endearing, and still worthy of a house key."
"i think you're nuts." you say, fluttering your lashes a little. "and really not in the position to be making these accusations."
"you really think so?" he leans in one more time, close enough that his lips brush that arch between your jaw and your neck. "go ahead—tell me all about how crazy i am."
you feel something inside you quiver.
this right here, this is the whole game between the two of you. some sick little cat-and-mouse thing that always leads to something that you regret in the morning and—inevitably—repeat next week.
truthfully, though, you're getting kind of sick of fighting it.
"god, i can't stand you." you back away, edging towards the hallway that leads to your room. "are you coming with me or what?"
and he grins, because of course he is.
reblogs are appreciated! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
#hq x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#haikyuu x reader#kuroo x you#haikyuu#hq!!#if u recognize this one no you don't#hiiii
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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Day 3
“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.
“Absolutely sir.” You nod.
It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too.
That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier.
"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"
"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar."
Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"
You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."
Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."
You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."
With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.
It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.
Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always.
Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups.
“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”
With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.
You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle.
“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"
She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.
You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.
If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded.
As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.
“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?”
"Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."
Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"
Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."
Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."
“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."
You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work. I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."
Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."
“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”
“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you.
You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet.
Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date.
“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”
“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement.
Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season.
Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”
“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.
Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.”
Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.”
Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"
“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”
“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”
Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.
“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.
“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself.
“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”
Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”
“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.
Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”
“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”
Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.
“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.
“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.
Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?”
You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.”
“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”
What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity.
“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”
“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.
“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.
“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.
“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”
“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.
“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.
“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?”
“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.
Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”
“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”
“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”
“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?”
“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip.
“I’m sure I will.”
With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.
“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.”
“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”
“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you.
“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised.
“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though.
“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”
Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.”
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Day 5
Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible.
Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already.
He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind.
He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it.
Or at least he hoped you would.
He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall.
“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.
Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.
“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”
“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture.
She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.
"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.
“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”
Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”
“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”
“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.
Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”
“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.”
“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?”
Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.”
But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter.
“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.
“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here.
Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”
Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad.
Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into.
“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”
Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”
He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.
She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”
“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”
She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”
Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”
She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.
At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.
“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread.
You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.
The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”
“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off.
You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.
“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off.
“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.”
“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”
“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place.
You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed.
It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did.
You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well.
Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.
The picture came out and you set it down to develop.
“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.
“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking.
“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.”
“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”
You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite.
It ended up being really good carbonara.
“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.”
Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back.
Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction.
You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.”
You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down.
“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.
“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?”
“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod.
Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult.
“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.
“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again.
“May I?”
“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt.
You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.
“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?”
You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.”
Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”
“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned.
“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”
“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists.
“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle.
It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken.
Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.
You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying?
“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.”
You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”
Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.
“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away.
It was a good little performance. One that was planned.
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The evening before.
Day 04
“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher.
“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch.
“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.”
“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around.
“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins.
“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”
“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.
“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”
You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.
“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.
“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?”
You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking.
“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you.
“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad.
“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”
“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.”
“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something.
You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.
Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?”
You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”
Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.
You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.
Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.
The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.
But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again.
So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one.
Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes.
“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”
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You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you.
You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”
You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you.
“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”
You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”
“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”
“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”
Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”
“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook.
“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.”
“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little.
“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”
You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”
You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.”
Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”
You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”
“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer.
“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.
“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.
“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”
Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air.
Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty.
You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose.
After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious.
Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”
“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”
You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”
He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”
“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”
“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”
You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him.
Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself.
“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.”
“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.”
“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch.
“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you.
You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”
You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?”
“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”
He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”
“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”
“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.
You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.”
Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.
Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it.
It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine.
You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?”
Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable.
“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum.
“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.”
“About what?”
“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.
“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth.
For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon.
Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.
He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him.
You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.
As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.
Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?”
You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.”
Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through.
Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”
You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.
“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”
“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.
You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”
You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”
He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”
“Nope.”
“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.
“Higher.”
“Okay, when do you usually?”
You cross your arms, “Twelfth.”
Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”
“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.
Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”
“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you.
“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase.
“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator.
Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.”
Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”
He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.
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Day 6
Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood.
It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.
When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.
However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.
“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”
Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”
Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”
Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”
Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye.
“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way.
“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm.
“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.”
“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?”
Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”
“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.
Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”
Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”
Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”
Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”
Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.
“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”
With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”
Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”
Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.
“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”
Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”
Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”
Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”
Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”
“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”
Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”
Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?
It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?
If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more a bet at this point for him.
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Taglist! : @vashimperial @httpjeonlicious @rinkud @vintagemoonsstuff @marimarvelfan @loomipee @leah-rose03 @irhdifartzamfyaa @tteokbokibyjk @thatbtssong @jungkooksmytype @baechugff @jk97bam @emplexia @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @parkinglot-nights @butnotmontana @goldentea10 @smwhrinthehaze @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @whoa-jo @minyoongi7016 @jeoncasino
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#bts#jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#jungkook fluff#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook fic rec#jungkook fic recs#jungkook fanfic recs#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#bts fic#bts fanfic#kim taehying#park jimin#jung hoseok#bts fic rec#bts fic recs#jimin#taehyung#hoeok#v#how to lose a guy in 30 days#smartkookiee#jungkook scenarios#bts scenarios
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This is not really an ask. But I was reading an older article today about Nic when she first tried on the intimacy wear at home in front of her mirror & thought “Absolutely not. How am I going to do this.” Then proceeded to hide it in the bottom of her laundry basket.
It reminded me of the way she talked about how terrified she felt in the lead up to their first kiss, to the point she had a stress rash. Gives an insight into how big of a deal all of this was for her. Scary even. How vulnerable she felt. (I mean who wouldn’t!) Then the things she says about Luke - he’s so supportive, he never made her feel judged, he made her feel safe, he is just a joy to be around, she can’t imagine doing this with anybody else, what was originally terrifying turned out to be some of her favourite days, the whole experience is just so special and not something they can explain to anyone else, how they have amazing communication - anything they were unsure or nervous about they could just talk about it.
I think because we mostly see the fun & flirty side of them, it’s easy to forget sometimes just how much their bond and that comfort and closeness they have with each other was very much earned. There is a real strength and depth to their relationship. Like she says, they really went on a journey together… she always really liked him but now she has a real love for him.
The way they make each other feel seen, safe and supported (wether that be on red carpets or on set) is such a beautiful and special thing. I think about the strongest relationships in my own life and it’s the ones where I’ve been the most vulnerable, where they’ve seen me at my most unguarded. The ones that have seen me through the hard stuff and that make the difficult & scary parts of life more bearable.
I guess this is just a reminder that the love we see they have for each other is very real just like N says it is. They laughed and joked a lot on the world tour about how much they enjoyed it & I don’t doubt that for a second and I love that light, fun, cheeky side to their relationship. But just like Pen & Colin, there’s history there for Luke & Nic… one that is very hard to compete with. There were some very real fears, struggles and growth that they bore witness to & supported each other through to get to this point. It’s not surprising that their relationship is not like any other relationship she has. She said towards the end it became effortless for them. They clearly adore and respect each other deeply. I do not think it would be easy for another partner to compete with that kind of earned ease and trust. Or for L & N to not be drawn back to the safety of each others arms. I think they are home to each other and I think they are reminded of that every day they are together and apart.
❤️❤️❤️
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i was on a "thinking about ryuk" kick earlier and. i get the appeal of saying he's the only one who sees light in his entirety — it makes perfect sense, he's the one who light monologues to about his grand plans, he's the one who light stays with practically 24/7 for five years — but i don't think it's completely true?
ryuk to me has this tendency to assume that light is straightforwardly malicious (see: he thinks light was lying when light says he'll avenge his father if soichiro ever gets killed by kira, he doesn't really get why light wants to do things like reveal his location to L until light explains he wants to eliminate L entirely, he takes the "i wish i had wings" thing seriously as though it's supposed to be part of light's Master Plan instead of a little quirk that light was clearly feeling vulnerable about, he's surprised when light isn't willing to kill sayu in the second arc). like there's real fondness for light in there as well, he congratulates light for getting into college for instance, but i don't really feel like ryuk has ever. understood him fully. he's trying, he gets better at it over time, but he does have a bias.
and i think, also, that this is because ryuk has another tendency to assume that light is just like him.
which makes sense, because light is the one who offers up "i was bored, too" as a genuine point of commonality between them. and then ryuk jumps to "you know, you'd make a really good shinigami!" and "hey light do you want the eyes" and then at the end "we eased each other's boredom for quite a while." he does notice when light is acting weird and tries to adjust his viewpoint (he goes ! when light starts doing his "i've never been so humiliated in my whole life" thing) but given that he only figures out light genuinely cares for his sister when he refuses to sacrifice her, after five years of watching this whole family dynamic, i don't think he ever actually gets there.
which is. sad. it's really goddamn sad. you know you're really fucked when even the demon haunting you can't figure you out
#ryuk#light yagami#death note#light's obviously an unreliable narrator#but i think ryuk kind of is one too#anyway something something everyone around light sees only the facets they want to see#misa recognizes light is selfish and cruel and only ever uses her but she pretends he's her knight anyway#L recognizes there's something off about yotsuba light but pretends he's still kira anyway#(something to be said about how he does drop that assumption halfway through but still. to L he was/will be kira always and forever)#and ryuk recognizes light is horribly fucking lonely but he pretends he's just a maniacal dictator anyway because it's more entertaining#something something. idk. i'm saying words recreationally here.#anyway when unchallenged i think ryuk kind of sees light the way the stereotypical death note redditor does
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I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️
staff!woozi
WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.
staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.
you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”
you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”
he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.
he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”
“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.
“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.
“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.
he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”
staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.
“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”
he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”
staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.
“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.
“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.
he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”
his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.
staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.
but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”
you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.
he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”
“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”
next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.
staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.
so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng
“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.
he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.
when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.
you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.
it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.
but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.
“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.
“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.
staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.
but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.
and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.
woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.
staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.
you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.
you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”
he glances over, raising an eyebrow.
“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”
“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”
you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”
he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”
you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”
you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”
your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.
he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.
you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.
“so… you heard that?”
his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”
you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.
“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.
“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt imagines#seventeen fic#seventeen x you#seventeen x yn#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#woozi smut#woozi#woozi x reader#svt woozi#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi angst#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi reactions#woozi drabbles#woozi headcanons#jihoon smut#lee jihoon#jihoon x reader
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Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D
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Nepenthes rajah
I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant
Bc that's exactly what the plant does
It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again
This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel
I mean, he literally eats angels whole
(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)
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Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula
At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...
But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis
Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me
Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something
From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though
They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...
Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)
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Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron
At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain
And this plant baby delivers
I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories
For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters
Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....
As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing
(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)
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Hypoestes
I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online
From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family
Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water
And oh boy, the amount of water...
The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping
Just like him being constantly tired
But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death
It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it
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Common Ivy - Hedera Helix
Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy
The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything
It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President
I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for
Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature
Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower
#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub#whb bael#whb stolas#whb naberius#whb amon#I just need to make it through a year or so of accounting studies and then I can apply to study botany at a college ^^
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Chapter 11- Attack on Castle Town
It was infuriating
Two whole days had passed since Link and Rusl arrived to Castle Town, yet it felt like no one was making an effort to come up with a plan. They had talked about hunting the beast down, luring it in, or waiting to see when it would attack again to then strike. But it felt like they were talking in circles, the conversation melting into the talk of the mundane.
Rusl, of course, loved visiting with his friends and talking to them about whatever came to mind, but not now. Not when that thing just attacked his children and threatened his home. The anxiety ate up at him, and he found himself unable to sit still at the table where everyone else sat. So he stood in the corner, his arms crossed as he glared at the others.
“So we should head to Faron since it was in Ordon last night, right?” Shad asked, staring at the map.
“No, it was just in Faron, it might’ve moved,” Link corrected.
“Didn’t sound like it moved from when it first attacked you guys,” Ashei butted in, her arms crossed at the table.
Link pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “I guess…”
“So we head to Faron?” Auru suggested, and Sheik finally stepped into the conversation.
“It seems like the most logical place to go, but we need to know how to fight this monster. If five soldiers couldn’t kill it, then I doubt six of us could.”
“Yes, but we do have one more person,” Shad said, his finger in the air, “and we’re more prepared.”
“It’s not like the soldiers of Hyrule are anything impressive,” Auru muttered, and Sheik looked away.
“Will you be fighting though Shad?” Link asked, and Shad gave him an offended look.
“Why—of course, old boy! I may not wield a sword but I have a weapon stronger than that!” The scholar patted his book, and Auru snorted.
“Are you going to throw the book at the monster?”
The group erupted into laughter and Rusl rolled his eyes. They were getting off track again.
“No! I have my head right here!” Shad defended himself, and Auru laughed harder.
“Great! So we’ll use your head as a weapon when the rest of ours break!”
“I meant my brain!” Shad stood up in fury, but his fiance pulled him back down, an amused smile on her face.
“We get what you mean, Shad,” she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. Rusl sighed and cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of Auru and Link. His son looked down, a slightly guilty look on his face, and his fingers interlocked together.
“Well, we may have a better chance than the soldiers, but we still need a plan,” he said, and Rusl felt relieved that they were finally strategizing. He and Link discussed strategies several times, but ultimately they wanted to brainstorm with the others for more ideas.
“You fought the beasts, old boy,” Shad started, his anger having disappeared entirely, “what is your suggestion?”
Link looked down, his eyebrows furrowed. “I… I don’t know. This isn’t a normal shadow beast.”
“I remember they were a challenge,” Auru contemplated. “Having to kill them all at the same time was… infuriating.”
“They just kept coming back to life,” Ashei added, and the rest of the group nodded.
“Well, as long as you killed them at the same time, they were relatively easy,” Link said. “But this beast is alone, so I don’t think we have to worry about it coming back to life once it’s dead. It’s just… tough.”
Sheik nodded. “It has to have a weakness though. We will weaken it, keep our distance, and…” they grabbed their right hand, “perhaps we could get the light spirit’s assistance? If it’s from the twilight, I doubt pure, divine light will feel good, hm?”
Link’s eyes widened as if he realized something and he nodded. “That’s a great idea, Sheik. We’ll get the light spirits to help weaken it, and while it’s down, we’ll give it everything we have.”
The group seemed to agree with the plan—if Rusl could even call it a plan—and Auru raised his drink.
“To victory then,” he cheered, and the others raised their own, with Link simply bumping his fist since he didn’t have one. Rusl let out a sigh and pushed his frustrations aside. He wasn’t sleeping well, and the anxiety felt like it was eating him up inside, so he was much more quick to anger than normal. But he had to try to be patient—they were going to get to deal with the threat, he knew it. He just had to slow down with the rest of them.
“Alright, let’s head out then,” Rusl muttered, stepping closer to the group, but Sheik stood up.
“Not yet. I must convey this information with some… allies. They may help if something were to go wrong.”
Link and Ashei seemed understanding while Auru and Shad seemed indifferent, but Rusl was exasperated.
“What? We’re not—when will you be back?” He asked, a sharpness to his voice as his patience was wearing thin.
“I’m not sure, hopefully before tonight—”
“Tonight? Where in the spirit’s name will you be going?” He snapped. Sheik’s eyes widened in surprise and they looked around uncomfortably.
“I just have things I need to do,” they muttered, and Link looked up at his pa, a worried expression on his face.
“We don’t have time! We should leave now and deal with it before it takes more people!” Rusl argued, and Auru stood up.
“If what Sheik says is true, then we should get help if something were to go wrong. Calm down—”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Rusl shouted, leaving everyone surprised. “You don’t know what type of a threat this thing is! If we wait any longer, we could lose it!”
“Rusl,” Auru started, his hands raised in an effort to calm him. “I know, but we are merely six people… and… really it’d only be four of you physically fighting it—I may not be able to do much. We need all the help we can get.”
“But it’ll be too late! We won’t be able to travel until the morning!”
Shad hummed. “Maybe leaving at night would help us find it better.”
“No, that's a horrible idea,” Link jumped in, and Rusl let out a groan.
“I can’t sit around any longer, I need this thing dead!”
“Goddesses, what has gotten into you?” Auru asked. “You were perfectly fine this morning—”
“That was because I thought we were safe during the day,” Rusl spat. “I thought we had more time as long as everyone stayed in at night. But no, it’s dangerous no matter what time it is! We can’t stall anymore!”
Everyone looked at each other. Ashei looked understanding, Sheik looked guilty, while Link looked uncomfortable at the outburst. Rusl blinked a few times and let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair.
���I–I’m sorry I…” He started, but he couldn’t get the words out. He looked up at Auru who stared blankly at him and he turned away. “You do what you need to do Sheik, I’m gonna go cool my head,” he said softly, and he left the backroom, ignoring Telma’s confused look as he burst through the door to the bar. He didn’t know where he was going—he supposed he was simply walking around the town to clear his head. The lack of sleep from the past few nights was catching up to him, and the fear surrounding the shadow beast plagued his waking mind. He felt like he couldn’t escape it, and he just wanted it taken care of so he could finally rest. He supposed with his own children and grandson having to get involved, it finally caused him to break.
The loud noises of the town wasn’t doing him any favors, so he went through the southern gate to escape to somewhere quieter, leaving behind the shops lined up next to Telma’s bar and entering a clearing. It was empty and peaceful, with a fountain in between cobblestone stairs that poured out the bluest water. Rusl walked to the fountain and kneeled, the anxiety and anger leaving his body to make way for vulnerability. He opened his heart and prayed.
He didn’t know who he was praying to; he wasn’t exactly praying to Ordona, or the light spirits themselves. But he found himself praying to someone. He prayed that he and the others would be safe, he prayed that his children would be safe, and he prayed that his wife would be protected. Goddesses she must’ve been worried sick over them—she always got extremely upset over these things. He hoped that she would know that the children were safe, and that she wouldn’t blame herself for what happened. As he prayed, tears started to trickle out of his eyes, and he leaned forward to rest his head against the stone. He was so tired, so tired from everything that happened to him from the past few days. The beast would plague his mind every moment, even if he was asleep. He couldn’t escape it no matter what he did, and now his own family was involved—his own children.
“Papa?”
Rela’s soft voice broke the silence, causing Rusl to sit up and turn his head to look at his daughter. He wiped his tears quickly and forced a smile, and she looked nervous as her hands fidgeted with each other.
“Rela, what the heck are you doin’ out here by yourself?” Rusl asked. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I… Uh… I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “I wanted to talk to you and I saw you walk out so I followed you and… uh…”
Rusl’s smile went away and he sighed. “I don’t want you by yourself in town. Monsters ain’t the only thing we need to look out for.”
“I know… but…” Rela’s arms wrapped around her waist. Her pa gave a more genuine smile and gestured for her to join him. She was hesitant, but she finally joined him, kneeling on the ground as she stared at the fountain. Rusl stared at her for a moment and finally pulled her close, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as she leaned into his hug. She was never a touchy person, always hating his hugs and kisses, so he made sure to enjoy any moment where she enjoyed his touch.
“Um… papa….” Rela started, her fingers fidgeting more now. “I need to tell you something.”
Rusl raised an eyebrow and pulled away to fully look at her. “What is it?”
“The reason… um… the reason that me and Colin and Kori are here is that… um…”
“The monster?”
Rela shook her head, shame apparent on her face. “No… I mean—yes—but… it’s my fault we’re here.”
Rusl frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I was… I was tryn’a teach Kori how to sword fight ‘cause I knew that there was a monster in the woods but… I accidentally left your wooden swords in the water at the spring and I went to go get them and…” Rela sighed. “I dragged everyone into it ‘cause I was dumb… I’m sorry papa.”
“Oh.” Rusl certainly wasn’t expecting Rela to say any of that. “So… y’all left Ordon?”
“Well… me and Kori were practicin’ in Ordon spring, but we met the soldiers and we showed them where y’all found the monster…” Rela sighed. “But we wouldn’t have been there in the first place if not for me. I’m sorry.”
Rusl stared, not knowing how to react. He could be angry, he could be sad, or he could be horrified, but he brushed it all away. She shouldn’t blame herself.
“Sweetie, I wasn’t clear enough with y’all,” he said softly, looking down at her. She did not look back up at him. “You didn’t understand the danger we were in. I certainly didn’t make it more clear. Don’t put all the blame on yourself.”
Rela frowned. “But… I still left.”
“Not on purpose. And I suppose I should’ve told y’all to stay away from the spring.” Rusl let out another sigh and he gave Rela a squeeze. “Besides, it’s in the past. Me and Link are gonna head out tomorrow to fight it. I want y’all to stick with Colin here until it’s safe, ok?”
Rela nodded. “Ok…”
“Wait, we’re not goin’ home—”
Rusl and Rela flinched at Kori who was suddenly behind them, with Rusl grabbing his daughter closer to him as he moved from the young twilian. Kori watched them with a bewildered expression as they stared horrified, and Rusl let out a breathy laugh.
“Spirits above, Kori. You scared the living daylights outta me!” He breathed, letting Rela go. “Why’re you here?”
“I heard Rela leave,” he answered simply, and Rusl rolled his eyes with an annoyed smile.
“Ok, no more going out into Castle Town by yourselves, ok?” He scolded. Kori looked down and tapped his feet on the cobblestone, and Rusl raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you come from anyways? I didn’t hear you at all.”
“Oh, I was in the shadows!” He answered, and Rusl and Rela glanced at each other.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Rela asked, and Rusl let out a sigh.
“Watch your language sweetie. And Kori, I have to ask as well. What do you mean you were ‘in the shadows’?”
Kori grinned, his dimples appearing just below his black markings. “Watch this!”
To Rusl’s surprise, his grandson suddenly morphed into a dark figure, diving into his and Rela’s shadow next to them. Rela jumped to her feet and stared at her own shadow wide eyed, Kori’s little blue eyes appearing to stare back.
“Kori? Since when could you do that?” She yelled out, and Kori emerged from the shadows, giggling slightly.
“Since last night.”
“And you’re mentioning it now? Do you realize how cool that power is? You can hide in the shadows!”
Rela and Kori began to chatter excitedly over his new power, while Rusl glanced around at the empty plain in front of him. The wind blew slightly, the sunlight dimmed, and an uneasy feeling began to overwhelm him. He stood up and started to nudge the kids closer to the gate, checking behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed. There was nothing there, but he still hurriedly pushed the kids to safety.
“Alright, it’s time to head back to the bar,” he said, his arms wrapped around the two. “And I’m serious about not traveling alone in town. It’s dangerous, ok?”
“Yes papa.”
“Ok grandpa!”
Rusl smiled, but it quickly faded as he thought about the two, his babies, facing such a horrifying monster…
They were too young, too innocent to see such horrors. Goddesses, what kind of a man was he—what kind of a father was he—to let them suffer so? His grip on them tightened as he led them through the busy town, determination flowing through him. He wasn’t going to fail again— he was going to protect them. Even if it killed him.
“Kitties!”
Kori suddenly pulled away from Rusl, running to a home with cats in the front playing with a ball. Rusl sighed, but he allowed the children to play with the cats, not really wanting to see the others just yet.
“Hi baby,” Kori cooed, holding his hand out for a kitten, who sniffed at his hand cautiously. Rela tapped the ball, sending it rolling for the other cats to chase after, and she giggled as they pounced each other. Rusl wished he could enjoy watching them play, but a sinking feeling of dread made him antsy, and he kept looking around him as if he were to be attacked any second. The townsfolk seemed to be anxious as well, with them hurrying to the homes and emptying the streets. Rusl turned to the kids and tapped Rela’s shoulder, gesturing to the direction of the bar with his head.
“It’s time to go. Say goodbye to the kitties.”
“Aw, but he just started to like me!” Kori whined, holding the kitten in his arms.
“I’m sorry kid, but it’s time to head back. Come on.”
Kori pouted but obeyed, reluctantly leaving the kitty behind. Rusl was pushing them faster now, wanting to get inside the bar as soon as possible, which clearly annoyed them with his hands gripping their shoulders.
“What’s the matter, grandpa Rusl?” Kori asked, glancing at Rusl’s hand.
“Nothin’, I just think it’s best if we head inside. A storm might be comin’.”
“Well you don’t have to grab my shoulder like that!” Rela complained, trying to shake off his hand as she spun around. “I can walk on my own you kno—”
A scream from his daughter interrupted her, and Rusl moved on instinct, grabbing the two children and sprinting towards crates for cover. Behind him he heard a slam along with screams, and when he turned, the beast was watching him, snarling growling.
The beast… the shadow beast… it was here—it was here.
Was it following them?
The beast’s snarl was aimed at him, and Rusl froze in fear, the fear of that night returning to him in full force. He was in danger, it was going to kill him, he was going to die, he was going to die he was going to die—
Rela screamed again in fear, burying her face in Rusl’s shirt while Kori remained quiet and stiff, which snapped him out of his stupor. It wasn’t just him that was in danger, but his children. By the goddesses he wasn’t going to let this thing hurt them again.
The shadow beast watched him, as if waiting for him to make a move. Its black, leathery skin looked like a void against the light cobblestone, save for the yellow teeth that dripped a black goo out of its mouth, staining the stone. It didn’t look different from when Rusl first encountered it, just as horrifying as before, yet it felt far more powerful, with a dark magic emanating from it. People were screaming in the town, running like wild animals to get away from the beast, but Rusl ignored them, shoving Rela and Kori behind him.
“Rela, get Kori to Telma’s bar and tell the others to come here,” he commanded, keeping his eyes on the beast as it stared.
“B-b-but p-pa–” Rela stuttered, but Rusl pushed her away.
“Get away from here!” He yelled, causing Rela to flinch, but she got up, trying to drag Kori behind her, though the boy was frozen.
Right as she and Kori moved though, the beast reacted and began to charge at the two. Rusl gasped and grabbed a crate, swinging it and throwing it right at the beast, which stopped it before it could reach the children. The crate shattered on impact, allowing Rusl to grab a broken piece to use as a makeshift weapon against the beast. It wasn’t as good as a sword, but hopefully it’d be enough to buy Rela and Kori time. Rusl swung the broken piece at the beast’s head before it was able to fully recover, it being almost pathetic at how little it reacted from the hit. After the wooden piece bounced off its head, it turned and snapped its jaws at Rusl, the teeth smacking against each other when it missed.
“Come on! Over here!” He shouted, trying to divert its attention from where Rela and Kori were, which worked for a moment as it turned its head to look at him.
“Come on Kori! Move!” Rusl heard Rela shout, and it drew the beast’s attention back to them. To Rusl’s horror, Kori was frozen in fear, staring at the beast with wide eyes as Rela tried to drag him back to the bar. Rusl sprinted to them just as the beast charged. Rela screamed and ran away, her hand slipping from Kori’s as she tried to pull him with her, leaving him alone as the beast got closer and closer. But Rusl got to him first.
He grabbed his grandson and rolled out of the way, dodging the beast’s rampage. Rusl searched for his daughter, but she was long gone, and the beast recovered too fast for him to stall any longer. He sent a prayer to the spirits to keep Rela safe and he ran to Malo Mart, slamming the door and setting Kori down. The poor boy was still frozen, his breathing rapid and tears forming in his eyes. Rusl moved him away from the door, cupping his face.
“Kori, look at me,” he said as calmly as he could as the boy started to sob. “Kori, I need you to be brave for me, ok? Hide out here, and do not come out unless I say so, ok?”
Kori stood sobbing for a moment, and Rusl wiped his tears and readjusted his head so he was looking at him.
“Kori, everything is going to be ok, ok?” He reassured, and he buried the boy in a hug. “Now hide in the shadows or whatever it is you can do and stay away from the door, you hear?”
Kori sniffled and nodded, seeming to calm down just enough to be able to think. Rusl smiled, but the moment of safety was gone in an instant when the roof broke, and a large, black hand reached out to grab them. Rusl pushed Kori away right as the hand landed on him, knocking the breath out of him.
Rusl grunted as the hand tightened around him, and he was lifted up through the hole. Kori watched in horror, moving to try to reach him, but Rusl waved him away, struggling in the thing’s grip.
“Hide Kori!” He yelled out, and he was pulled out of the building, his grandson’s voice calling out to him from within the building.
Rusl clawed at the fingers wrapped tightly around him, and he was suddenly inches away from the thing’s face. The stench from the monster’s hot breath nearly suffocated him, the endless, black mouth was open wide, and he flinched away, only to be trapped in its grip. Panic spiked within his chest as memories from the night of their first meeting flooded in—the memory of the tight throat swallowing him down, the slime and goo falling on every inch of his body, the tendrils in its stomach grabbing onto him…
“No, no no no!” He shouted, struggling against the beast’s hold while staring at its teeth in horror, but it didn’t put him in its mouth again. Instead it simply put him in one of its back hands as if he were a worthless toy, going back to digging around in the shop, and Rusl gasped as realization hit him. It was after Kori.
“KORI!” Rusl yelled in warning as the beast broke another hole through the roof. He squirmed and shifted, but his arms were pinned to his sides, the monster’s grip tight around him.
Just as the beast was about to tear another hole into the roof, an explosion hit the monster’s left side, causing it to shriek in pain. Rusl felt its grip around him loosen, and he was able to get one arm free before the grip tightened again. He looked to see where the explosion came from, and he saw Auru kneeling on the ground, his bazooka on one shoulder as he glared at the beast. Ashei and Shad were behind him, with Ashei’s longsword drawn and protectively in front of Shad, who stared at the beast wide-eyed.
“You better drop him now or else I’ll shoot again!” Auru yelled, aiming his weapon, but the beast didn’t seem threatened, and instead returned to trying to find Kori. Auru followed through on his threat and shot at the monster again, it shrieking in pain when it was hit, but it remained stubborn. Rusl watched Ashei run to the building, climbing to the top with her sword still drawn. She sprinted to the beast and sliced at its injured shoulder, making it flinch away. Annoyed, it went to smack Ashei off the roof, but she dodged and countered with another swipe of her sword, hitting its right arm once again. The beast snarled and directed its full attention to the woman, slamming its fist at her as she hopped back and forth. It soon began to swing its claws at her when squishing her didn’t work, but Ashei was quick despite the armor she had on, and she ducked to avoid the beast’s claws. The shadow beast grew agitated, and it slammed its fist hard against the roof next to Ashei, which didn’t hurt her, but it caused her to lose her footing, and she wasn’t able to dodge the monster slapping her off of the roof. Ashei yelled out as she flew, landing on the cobblestone ground with a sickening crack.
“Ashei!” Shad shouted as she fell off, sprinting to her side as she struggled to stand up. Her face was pale, she cradled her side, and she looked like she was struggling to breathe, which made Rusl worried. The beast turned to look at Ashei and Shad, and Auru let another shot from his weapon loose, which hit it right in the chest. It shrieked in pain, but remained standing on the roof.
“How many hits is it gonna take?” Auru exasperated, loading his weapon again.
“Auru, I’m afraid you’re going to hit Rusl!” Shad yelled, but he didn’t listen as he shot the beast again. Everytime, Auru hit the beast head-on, which Rusl felt as the shock rippled through his body, the heat making him sweat. But the blasts never hurt him directly, with the monster feeling most of the pain, and its grip loosened enough for Rusl to get his other arm free. But once again, its fingers tightened around him just as he was about to slip away.
“Oh come on,” Rusl groaned in frustration, feeling his sides bruise from the grip. The beast recovered from the blast again, and faced Auru with fury radiating off of it. But before it could pounce, Rusl heard a sword being drawn and spotted Link right as he landed on the beast, the blade of his sword facing down and piercing the leathery back.
The shadow beast let out a shriek that rang out through the entire town, stinging Rusl’s ears from the shrill, and he gasped as the grip finally loosened, causing him to fall. He landed on the roof with a painful thud, his knees and ankles stinging from the impact, but there was no time to sit there as the beast wailed in pain.
“Link!” Rusl shouted, scrambling to his aching feet. His son glanced over at him, his grip around his sword tight. “Kori’s below us! It’s after him!”
Link’s eyes widened in realization, his glare turning into a horrified expression, but before he could do anything, the beast stood up straight, making Link hang onto the sword still embedded into its back. Then it jumped back, threatening to crush Link. Link jumped to Rusl before he could get trapped between the roof and the monster, and the roof beneath them collapsed from the impact. Pain exploded in Rusl’s body as Link landed on him, and everything went dark, the sounds of debris falling being the last thing he heard.
~~~
There was chaos in Castle Town. She knew from the screams and broken buildings, but she paid it no mind. As soon as Rusl’s daughter barged into the bar where she and the others still sat, they were all up and ready to go fight the beast, knowing that the time for planning was over. Sheik had planned to tell Edmund about the beast, as a safety measure in case she didn’t make it back, but she supposed there was no time for that now. She just had to trust that Edmund would notice the giant shadow beast attacking the town.
Instead of joining the others in the fight, however, Sheik was standing in her room at the bar, praying to the light spirits the same way she did ten years ago. She knew that the light arrows she acquired from them would aid them in the fight, but it was a matter of getting them to help again. Truthfully, she didn’t know if they would. The tyranny of Ganondorf was over; the threat of the world was no longer there, but she hoped that they would understand the threat now.
“Oh light spirits,” she started, the only sound of her voice in her room feeling awkward, but she continued, “I ask for your help once again, to help defeat an evil that threatens Hyrule.”
Nothing happened, so she continued, ignoring the unease in her heart. “I need the light arrows to defeat this foe. It is a shadow beast, but it is a powerful one. Please, it’s taken and harmed my people. I need to defeat it.”
It remained silent, the familiar feeling of the divine spirits didn’t appear, and panic began to settle in. Why weren’t they responding? They immediately replied to her during the invasion, granting her the light arrows that stunned Ganondorf long enough for Link to fight him. But now it felt like they were ignoring her. Why?
“Please,” she begged, kneeling on the ground and bowing her head. “Please, help me. I must protect Hyrule, I must fulfill my duty as a queen and—and as a mother. Please.”
Frustration began to build up in her as nothing happened. Everything felt easier back then for her despite nearly losing her kingdom. She felt like she could focus, like she could clear her head to figure out what to do. But now everything felt hard, impossible. Like she was trapped in quicksand that she couldn’t escape. Every decision led to a terrible consequence, where she would bear the weight of the blame due to her position. Not looking into the disappearances earlier, not spending time with her family, not building good relationships with people, stretching herself thin where she felt like she could barely do anything—
Goddesses, she couldn’t fail. There were too many people depending on her—an entire kingdom depended on her.
“Please, I need your help,” she tried one more, resting her head on the ground, her voice shaking, “I cannot do this without you.”
“Zelda.”
Her head shot up, finding herself in a dark world that was lit up by the water and the light spirits watching her. Relief swelled in her, and she bowed her head.
“Thank you, light spirits,” she started, “I need you help—”
“No you do not,” the spirit of Lanayru interrupted her, the snake-like eyes watching her. Zelda paused, taken aback from the sudden bluntness.
“W-What do you mean?”
“You do not need our help.”
“I–Yes, I do. I need the light arrows to defeat a beast of darkness—”
“And you were wise in searching for the light arrows…”
“But… you’re not going to give them to me?”
Eldin moved closer to her. “You already have them…”
Zelda paused, looking down at her empty hands. “I…I already have them?”
“You’ve always had them,” Faron jumped in, tilting their head. “They never left you.”
“I—How do I get them then? I’ve never used them since Ganondorf.”
“That is something you will have to figure out yourself…” Faron explained.
“You do not put enough faith in yourself…” Eldin added.
“And so you struggle to find that divine power…” Lanayru finished.
Zelda frowned, rubbing her right hand where the triforce of wisdom glowed. “How do I find it then? How… how do I simply put faith in myself?”
“It is no easy task…you’ve dealt with many obstacles in your life now…we do not blame you for struggling so…”
“But you must learn to be kind to yourself…you are only a Hylian…”
“A Hylian that is responsible for my kingdom,” Zelda grumbled. “I must be hard on myself otherwise I’ll never make the right decision!”
Lanayru shook their head. “You’ll simply overthink everything…you put too much pressure on yourself…”
Zelda paused, looking down at the bright water, the memory of her and Edmund’s conversation playing through her mind.
“… looking at you now, I’ve grown more worried than upset,” Edmund said to her. “You’ve overworked yourself so much to the point that you collapsed. That’s not a good thing. I suppose I… I just want to know why you’re so intent on doing everything yourself, when I’m here to… help you.”
She had put so much pressure on herself that she literally passed out from exhaustion, and her mind has felt foggy ever since. Perhaps it’s felt foggy long before the disappearances have gotten worse, since the twilight invasion…
Goddesses, everything has felt impossible, cloudy, and too heavy for her to bear. But she didn’t know how to receive help—she didn’t know how to fix it. Yet it clearly was keeping her from the light arrows, so much so that the light spirits recognized it.
“I…see…” she simply said. “I’ve always had the light arrows?”
“Yes…you’ve always had them… you just need to learn how to use them…”
Zelda sighed, frowning as she stared at her hands. A familiar, warm tingling sensation started at where her triforce piece lingered, and she nodded. She could do this, she had to.
“Can I ask you one more thing then?” She asked, looking up at the light spirits. They each nodded, and Zelda got to her feet, still keeping her head bowed. “What are we up against?”
Ordona stepped forward, with the others making way for her. “This is a shadow beast… one of the first created by the usurper Zant…it has lingered in the Twilight Realm all these years, getting stronger…”
“If it’s from the Twilight Realm, how did it get here?” Zelda asked, thinking of Midna somehow coming back for Kori.
“It has stolen force from the Twili there… growing strong enough to be able to move between worlds while staying hidden…”
“Force? Like… life force?”
The spirits each looked at each other, and the world around them began to fade.
“Your kingdom needs you, Queen of Hyrule…go, and save them…”
Zelda blinked and she was suddenly back in the room. She still felt clouded and weak, but she knew that her friends needed her, as did her kingdom. Ignoring the questions that weren’t answered, she looked at the triforce of wisdom on her hand and closed her eyes, reaching deep within her to access the magic she had. The warm feeling in her hand began again, and it spread throughout her chest. For a moment, she felt the power in her flow through her veins, a warmth in her fingers.
Then it went away.
Zelda opened her eyes to see nothing in front of her, only the empty room above the inn. Her brows furrowed as she stared at her hands, the fingers trembling slightly.
“I don’t understand,” she whimpered, clenching her fists, “I need them! How do I… why couldn’t you just tell me?”
The room remained silent as Sheik sat there, her prayers unanswered and her hands empty. She looked around her, kneeled down, and once again tried to reach deep within herself to find the arrows, but there was nothing. Not even the faint glow of the triforce of wisdom appeared.
“Come on! I can’t leave without them! I said I’d get them, why can’t I get them?” Sheik punched the floor in frustration, her divine magic suddenly feeling like it was being sucked out of her. She simply asked back then, and the light spirits answered. Of course it had to be different now, of course it had to be harder for her.
A faint explosion was heard outside, along with screaming, and Sheik finally sat up, looking around the room. She could sulk in the room forever, but she still had a duty to the resistance; she needed to help them, empty-handed.
Admitting defeat, Sheik stood up and ran to the window, jumping out and climbing onto the roof. Immediately she spotted a cloud of smoke ahead of her, with the sounds of roaring and yelling, and she took off towards it. A shop in front of the fountain was completely destroyed, with Link trying to distract the shadow beast while Rusl laid unconscious in the rubble, and Kori worriedly looked over him. Sheik grimaced at the sight, dread resting in her stomach as she watched Rusl, pale and unmoving.
“G-Grandpa–” the little boy whimpered, shaking him gently, but he didn’t wake up.
“Kori, get out of here!” Link yelled, but Kori remained frozen at his grandfather’s side. They were helpless against the thing, and Sheik couldn’t help but feel her blood freeze at the sight of the creature. It truly looked far more powerful than the normal shadow beasts, and she could feel the power—the force—radiating off of it. Memories of the twilight invasion came flooding in, with her watching shadow beasts killing her soldiers right before her very eyes, her own parents twisting and morphing into the black creatures by Zant’s hands, and her watching helplessly as it all happened. It’s all she was—helpless!
It turned from Link and spotted Kori, directing its attention to him, and Link tried to get it to turn back around.
“Don’t you dare—LOOK AT ME!” He yelled, desperate to keep his son safe, but it was in vain as the beast turned fully to Kori, who hugged Rusl in fear. The rest of the resistance seemed to be down, with Shad trying to help Ashei off the ground and Auru loading his bazooka frantically, and Sheik knew that Link wouldn’t be able to stop it from charging at Kori and Rusl. For some reason, a vision shot through her mind, one of the beast attacking her daughter in the same manner, and something inside her snapped. If she failed to kill this monster, then it was going to harm her daughter, and she couldn’t bear to let that happen.
She wasn’t going to let it happen.
As soon as the beast started to charge towards Kori, she jumped from the roof, landing in front of him and aiming her right hand at the beast. The triforce of wisdom glowed against her hand, shining brightly against her eyes as the diving light warmed her entire body. The magic was soon condensed and it formed into the bow of light and arrows, floating before her until she grabbed hold of it. Without having time to think, she pulled the bow back with a light arrow and shot it straight at the beast’s chest.
The shriek from the beast rang out through the town, the light attacking every inch of it like lightning as if flinched away from her. Sheik heard a confused grunt and turned to see Rusl wide awake, his brows furrowed and eyes wide as he stared at Sheik.
“Look out!” Sheik heard someone yell, and she turned just in time to see the beast charging, its mouth snarling open wide that almost paralyzed her in fear. She’s never seen their faces before. Breaking out of her fear, she shot an arrow at it when it was inches away from her, and it shriveled, growing agitated from the pain. Sheik was about to shoot it again, but it began slamming the ground in anger, nearly smashing her in the process if Rusl hadn’t pulled her out of the way, and she was huddled up next to him and Kori. The beast shrieked as the light attacked it, and Link got close to finish it off, but he was smacked away from the chaos.
“Papa!” Kori yelled, and ran to where his father landed.
“No! Kori!” Rusl yelled, holding tight to his grandson and following.
Before they could move past the monster however, black magic formed from where the beast rampaged, spreading right under Sheik and the others. A red swirl appeared in the center beneath the shadow beast, a sight that was all too familiar to Sheik, and she suddenly felt trapped in one place from the black magic surrounding her. A dizziness assaulted her as she tried to stand, and to her horror, she watched as the light arrow and bow disappeared from her hands. Her fingers began to vanish, turning into black squares that were being sucked into the center of the portal, and the last thing she saw before disappearing was Link reaching out to her.
#Kori#love at twilight#smiles writes#yayyy!#1 year anniversary!!!#and everything is going terrible! :D#idk I think writing all that action in whumtpober made writing action here nearly IMPOSSIBLE#it was so hard#and so the ending is kinda weak#but hopefully y’all can tell what’s going on#thanks as always to the lovely Bearie for beta reading and giving me suggestions 🙏#a true homie#twilight princess#gosh we’re getting to the exciting stuff hehe#cant tell you how satisfying it is to see a long chapter index ah!#I’m one of the fanfic writers !! :D
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part [1][2][3]
In which I continue looking through Agatha scenes in Wandavision, I want to get to AAA nowwwwww but I can't stop taking screenshots. I forgot how good this show is
We are on episode 6 and it's naughty couture time! (so much for less screenshotting)
Oh wow, these three together, very cute and not painful in any way! Also not foreshadowing or anything.
I'm not clear on this point, did Ralph have ANY free will or was Agatha just puppeteering him at all times? Because he totally sounds like Agatha doing a half-assed Quicksilver impression. You want to know about Wanda's trauma, don't you Fietro???
Bit much there, buddy. That's right. Too much ham. Off you go.
yep, that's Agatha's manipulative ass alright. and she almost got away with it too.
Episode 7, where Agatha can't wait to get her paws on those little boys and do horrible villainous things to them (like making them snacks and watch cartoons. And some light trauma)
That's why Billy's her favorite, he's such a mama's boy.
the exact faces the three of them will make when auntie Agatha tries to ghost-mom the twins
babies are delicious
why is she being such an ASSHOLE TO WANDA OH MY GOD. psychological torture for days and days and days
IMMEDIATELY tries to bond with Billy. she's also prodding for his powers but there's genuine kindness there too
Billy genuinely likes Agatha though, that's the thing. despite everything, even in the future he instinctively trusts her and seeks her out. in a way they kind of adopt each other
why does her voice get so tender goddamnit Hahn. you know Agatha is thinking about Nicky and having so many feels
this whole dynamic really hits differently now, doesn't it?
her body language with Monica is so threatening, she's containing herself but you can see she wants to KILL
At this point Monica and SWORD are approaching and there's no much time left, so Agatha takes another big risk and openly approaches Wanda - or actually, not *much* more openly. She goes from over-the-top neighbor to over-the-top witch, the same trick she always uses, except she never went again someone as scary powerful as Wanda. She is truly gambling here, and you can tell by how rigid her body language is. She's projecting strength more than feeling it, and I think she's using señor Scratchy both as a prop for her villain persona (hilarious. that's a cuddly bunny, you idiot!) and also as moral strength, she's holding him like a shield.
^^Agatha when she's purposely being a clown and fucking with people
^^the real Agatha, razor-focused, serious, and, more often than not, cruel.
Episode 8. We now know that Evanora hates Agatha because she was born with succubus powers - born different, born evil, queer analogies abound. Jac Schaeffer says that Agatha has never been loved by her mother or really by anyone before she met Rio, so let's just sit on that.
Here we have a very young Agatha, still a teenager, already up to mischief. Interesting that Evanora does not mention her killing anyone quite yet, Agatha's crimes are about seeking knowledge, something she'll keep doing all her life. She's already a self-fulfilled prophecy, she's being bad and going against her coven because her coven calls her bad and pushes her away. This is supposedly her family, her sisters, her community. She committed a bloodless crime, and they're about to execute her for it.
She denies, Evanora calls her out. Agatha is already refining her greatest skill: deception.
Can she control it? Did they ever try to teach her? And why is she talking about her powers now? She is not being executed for stealing at all, is she? And she knows it. (Also I LOVE that when Agatha is at her lowest she resorts to beg. Her survival instincts are stronger than anything, even her pride, she is self-centered to her very core. That's the only way she could ever survive.)
Evanora starts chanting "mors monstrum innaturale", death to the unnatural monster. And, I'm sorry, that's incredibly fucked up. It gets more fucked up the more I think about it.
"Watch this, Lisa. You can actually pinpoint the second when her heart rips in half."
The coven in an excess of prudence must have decided to kill Agatha in a joint effort, just in case her powers are too much for one witch or two. They thought they would destroy the so called evil with their moral superiority, they actually had no idea of what Agatha was capable of, and by her shocked expression, neither did she - she was never allowed to explore her abilities, not to such an extent anyway.
That's the same expression again, completely focused and merciless. I know I'm repeating myself but the real Agatha is anything but bombastic. Her emotions are subtle but formidable.
When I first watched this scene 3 years ago I came to the conclusion that Agatha was conning the Salemites in order to kill them. She was absolutely not. She is shell-shocked at what happened.
Hahn is very deliberately making understated choices here. No evil cackling, no gloating, just contempt and bitterness.
And I'm running out of space again but it was worth it, this scene was so interesting to analyze. Hopefully part 3 will be the last one for Wandavision
go to part 3
#wandavision#Agatha all along#Agatha Harkness#character study#screenshots#wanda maximoff#billy maximoff
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Love talk - Song Mingi
prev | M. list | next chapter | [WITH MY BIAS?]
words: 2.3K
notes: warnings, mature language, Mingi going through it, HONGJOONG is going throigh it bro somebody save him
“I'm still not seeing him, what if he's really not here, what if I lost my one chance to be with the love of my life because I was stupid and clumsy and spilled water over a fucking card when I should've put the number in my phone the moment I saw the card. Or what if he is here and he doesn't recognize me because my hair is different what if-” Mingi's panic is stopped by Yunho, “Calm down” it's simple and had it been anybody else those words would not serve to soothe him, but Yunho's been his rock for longer than he could remember and they offer at least a bit of comfort.
Sitting in a Vip box right in front of the stage, Mingi and the rest of his members try and look around for the person Mingi described, it's a break in the concert and the first half had been great, the lead guitarist Hongjoong loves was back and had even angled his guitar in their direction a couple of times, whatever that meant. He was dressed differently from the other members of his band, his whole body covered, almost in a cultish cloak which matches with the vibe of the first few songs, but Mingi couldn't bring himself to focus on that too much.
He was constantly looking back, trying to spot the mess of pink hair between the see of bright pinks and blacks behind him, it was fruitless, he knew the area was too big for him to see [Name] by himself, and his friends had agreed to help during the breaks but they had been invested in the concert whenever the music riff would start. Something about the lead singer's voice seemed almost familiar, calling out to him but he pushed it back, ignored it in favor of looking through the crowds, it may seem disrespectful but he'd apologize after the show, they would understand right?
“I can't just calm down Yunho, I know you guys think it's silly and that I only knew him for a week but it was- It was just so real. It was like he knew me, like I knew him. He held me like I was the one thing he'd been searching for and it couldn't have been just my own mind Yunho, and I hate it. I hate it because the thought of not seeing him again didn't even cross my mind. I've started to forget his voice, do you know how much that breaks me?“ Mingi is almost crying, not caring that if anyone were to look into the box they'd see him.
“Listen, I know we all thought it was silly at first, but we know how much this means to you, I know how much this means to you. We'll find him alright? even if it's not right now, we'll find him, you don't have to worry. Just, just try and enjoy the rest of the concert, try and relax, if you're relaxed your memory might become more clear. Just for a few songs, if you still aren't feeling better you and I can walk out and get some fresh air okay? you said you met him outside last time, we'll look for him then” Yunho hand on Mingi's shoulder grounds him as he tries to blink away the tears, grateful for the dimming of studio lights as the concert will supposedly begin again.
He can hear the band walk back up the stage, the voice of the lead singer humming and a few giggles of the others ringing through the stadium. He can't see them, the lights are far too dark for that. “We've teased you a lot recently haven't we my petals?” The voice of the lead singer speaks for the first time that night, Mingi tilts his head in confusion at the feeling stirring in his chest, but it's blocked out by the screams of ‘yes’ from the crowd, the loudest being Hongjoong beside him.
“hmm, I'm pretty sure they've figured it out, our petals are smart” a female voice speaks from the stage, “yeah!” two other voices agree. “Very true, Soyeon” the crowd goes wild as a name is said, making Mingi remember that until now, it seems, everyone in this band has stayed anonymous. “Well, petals, I'm afraid I can no longer call only you mine.. you see, you've supported us through a lot, helped us in our search for our pink flower” he speaks again, Mingi faintly recalls Hongjoong giving everyone a run down on the bands lore, how the pink carnation is supposed to symbolize the happiest part of their life, their heaven.
“Even gave some of us ours” another voice says, “shut up Beomgyu” a female voice , different from the one identified as Soyeon speaks, the crowd loses it again as another member's name is revealed. “You're just jealous Petals love me more, Ryunjin” Beomgyu spits back, and this time Mingi is prepared for the eruption of screams that don't seem to end. “You two fight like an old married couple” the drummers, Mingi thinks, voice speaks. “SHUT UP CHANGBIN” the two shout in unison. The crowd is lively, all screaming newly learned names of the ones they love, next to Mingi Hongjoong is losing his mind as he buzzes in his seat waiting for his bias, the last name to be revealed.
“If I could continue my earlier sentence” the unnamed male speaks as the two youngest let out tiny huff’s of sorry’s, the crowd going dead silent as his unsaid way of asking for silence reaches them. “Tonight, as you could tell, we are sharing ourselves with you fully, and to do that, I wrote a song, it's quite different from what we usually give you, and for that I'm sorry. But as our story has gone on, and we've seen glimpses of all the incarnations pink flower” he takes a deep breath, “I believe I've found mine.. he's in the crowd tonight, so I hope he knows this songs for him” the last words are a bit shaky, and Mingi silently applauds the man for being brave enough to share this part of himself with his fans.
“Alright guys, don't go easy on him, you gotta tell him if you don't like his simpy song right?” Soyeon asks and the crowd gives a corus of agreement. “Here it is, Love talk, written by [Name] [Last name]” she screams, the crowd screaming with her as the lights turn on and the music starts. The air is sucked out of Mingi's chest, the name hitting him hard, the face he's met with afop the stage, staring down at him the moment the lights turned on, now dressed in much more revealing clothing, body littered with the tattoos Mingi recalls in his dreams? they hit him even harder.
It's not him who starts the song, but he's mouthing something to Mingi before he starts his own part, Mingi can't tell what it is he's saying. He can feel the eyes of his members on him, boring into him as they recognize the name and description, all probably equally as shocked as he is, but he can't tear his eyes away from the man atop the stage. The words he had said previously floating around in his head, the song was written for him, for Mingi.
Falling for a stranger (Yeah), good gracious (Yeah)
I might even fly out to Vegas (Catch a flight)
I'm thinking maybe you'd be down to do it (Yeah)
But you don't know what I'm saying (Saying)
[Name] moves his left hand that's not holding the mic, pointing his wrist in the direction of the crowd as the camera zooms in on what he's showing, a little pink flower, tattooed in the middle of his wrist, it's vine creeping up the palm of his hand and wrapping around his middle finger. He smiles at Mingi hopefully, and Mingi only smiles in turn.
“with MY bias, you fucking slept with MY bias I can't have ONE thing in this group YEARS I spent thirsting for this man and you got to him first!” Hong Jong wails, as he's being comforted by Seonghwa, the members being in a room backstage, they were brought here by the security guards after the concert had ended, being told “The incarnations want to see you.” and no further explanation.
Mingi's stomach is rumbling with nerves, now that he's not looking at [Name], that [Name] isn't looking at him he wonders if the other is mad, he paces back and forth in the room, blocking out Hongjoongs wails and Jongho and Yeosangs giggles. He knows the thought is irrational, the man had just done an identity reveal just so Mingi would recognize him, but there's still a nagging voice at the back of his brain.
“Still can't believe you slept with him, - like I can't believe he's [Name], like damn dude I get why you loved his fingers now.“ Yunho speaks from where he sits and eats some candy, his face between impressed and uninterested. Mingi wants to smother him. “Never really given my fingers much thought, I'm glad flower liked them” a deep voice speaks from the doorway, the now open doorway, the doorway that [Name] and the rest of his band are standing in.
The voices in the back of Mingi's head disappear and his body acts on instinct as he moves to [Name], the taller meeting him midway and their lips entwining in a passionate kiss. Mingi's hands steady themselves on [Name’s] shoulders, fearing his legs might give out beneath him if he doesn't, the guitarist has one hand, his left hand, on Mingi's cheek, the other gripping his hip like a lifeline.
When they break away, eyes locking and laughter bubbling from their throats, Mingi hears a whine behind them. “Goddamnt, now I owe Ryujin 20 bucks. You couldn't have waited 5 minutes?” Beomgyu grumbles as he plops himself on the first open chair he sees. “I'll give you forty if you stop placing bets on me” [Name] says as he spins Mingi around so they're both facing the rest of the people in the room. Mingi's back pressed against his chest so tight he can feel the other's beating heart, his waist encircled by [Name’s] arms as he rested his chin on Mingi's shoulder.
“Deal!” Beomgyu chirps from where he sits, “I swear you're all idiots, introduce yourselves” Soyeon gives her bandmates a pointed look and they all make ‘O’ faces in realization that they have yet to do that. “There's no need, Hongjoong-Hyung raves about-” San’s words are stopped shen Hongjoongs hand loudly slaps his mouth shut, looking at the band in a panic. “what he means to say is we heard on the stage, right?“ Hongjoong directs the last word threateningly at San, who nods his head fearfully with watery eyes. Hongjoong releases his hand from San’s mouth, the younger immediately backing away from Hongjoong and pouting as he looks at Wooyoung who is clearly much more interested in what's going on than San’s pain.
“ah, same here, [Name] won't shut up about you guys he's been a fan since like debut” Ryujins words are met with a loud cackle from Beomgyu about the fact that his friend just got outed, and a grumble from [Name who simply hides his face in Mingi's shoulder as the idol gives him a curious look.
“So I guess we're like… members in law” Changbin tries to joke, earning a loud laugh from Wooyoung, the sound immediately making him brighten up. “I'm gonna take Flower so me and him can talk someplace private” [Name] speaks before directing his attention to Ateez, “really it is nice meeting you all and it would be an honor to talk more, but flower is more important to me” he tells them as he drags Mingi out of the room, pausing for a moment to look back at Hongjoong, “for what it's worth Captain, you were my bias wrecker” he says with a cheeky grin before closing the door, Hongjoong sitting still for a moment before letting out a strangled cry that's muffled by the door.
“flower?“ is the first thing Mingi asks when he and [Name] enter a room alone. [Name] only nods, “mhm, do you not like it?” he looks at Mingi with a hint of nervousness Mingi hasn't seen on him before, it was kind of endearing. “NO! no no I mean Uhm I like it but it's just… I don't know, didn't think you would have remembered me, especially named me after something so important” Mingi mumbles.
“I know it may seem like a shocker but I do actually like you, I mean I didn't exactly learn korean for nothing” [Name] huffs out a puff of laughter, but his words hit Mingi, he learnt a language for Mingi. “I- I never called you” is all Mingi could reply with, [Name] only nods in response, “yeah.. “ he bites the inside of his cheek.
“It's not that I didn't want to- god I wanted to, it's just- I lost your number- well not lost more so as spill water-” Mingi starts to panic but is cut off by the feeling of [Name’s] lips connecting to his own once again. He's silenced, feeling the tallers hand rest on his neck to hold him in place. The kiss is broken as their foreheads are rested against one another. “My Flower, I could honestly care less” [Name] breathes out, “Whatever happened, you still decided to show up, and you have yet to reject me, so I could honestly care less on why you didn't contact me” He removes his head from Mingi's as he looks down at him. “I don't want to think about the year I spent without you when you're in my arms now” he says, and Mingi responds by kissing him again, a smile on his own lips.
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Taglist [30/19][open]: @idkwhatto-namethis @foxilsdenn @cometaveintisiete @poweringthroughthis @astro-doll-the-star @dahbee8 @mikahrh @moonslie04 @boopboopedoop @bee-the-loser @brrrkdslek @amphiroxx @ddeonubaby @ddextrr @conwunder @the-most-things-fan @ficlibrarie @leezanetheofficial @seongsangssbitch
notes: chat this is not proofread and im sick so please lmk if you find any mistakes
copyright | 2024 | @asherthehimbo
#kpop x male reader#ateez mingi#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez au#ateez fluff#LTSM#ateez x male reader#song mingi smau#song mingi x male reader#ateez song mingi#song mingi#song mingi x reader#Spotify
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Every Breath you take (19)
Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, domestic life
A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Catch up here: Every breath you take (18)
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
“More salt,” you comment as Bucky stirs the sauce. You decided to start over, and the first thing you did was to cook together. “It tastes good but lacks salt.” Licking the spoon, you watch Bucky add more salt.
Since he came back, you tried to talk about the elephant in the room with him. Bucky must, once and for all, realize that he cannot treat you like a caged bird. You’re with him on free terms and don’t want to be treated like a prisoner.
“I didn’t know you could cook.” You try to ease your nerves and talk about anything but what’s on your mind. “It’s nice having a man who can cook.”
“Uh—I’m not much of a cook, but I can try to get better.” Bucky seems to be as nervous as you are. “For you.”
“Bucky,” you begin, but clamp your mouth shut. You sigh, shake your head, and try again. “Okay, we need to talk.”
“Doll, I already told you that I’m sorry." Bucky winces as you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have locked the cabinets. It was a mistake and won’t happen again.”
“There is a locked room. I assume it’s the basement,” you sniff. “Did you want to put me down there, and that’s why it’s locked?”
“What?” He drops the spoon in his hands. Bucky looks like you slapped him across the face. He winces and shakes his head. “No. I locked it because it’s dangerous. I didn’t want you to get hurt or hurt yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” You huff, frustrated. He’s hiding things from you again, pretending to keep you safe. Whenever you believe you’re making progress, you take ten steps back.
“If you want to, I’ll show you.” Bucky steps around the kitchen counter to touch your shoulder. “I never wanted you to see this side of me, but I don’t want to hide things from you.”
His hand slides down your arm to take your hand. Bucky guides you out of the kitchen and walks straight toward the locked door.
He unlocks the door with his thumb. The door slides aside, and the light automatically turns on. “I go there when the nightmares get worse,” he says, as he guides you down the staircase.
Down in the basement, there’s no furniture but an old mattress on the ground. You wrinkle your forehead as Bucky steps toward the wall.
He presses a button, and the wall suddenly moves aside, revealing a hidden room. On the walls hang weapons of all kinds. Guns, knives, blades, even something that looks like a rocket launcher.
“I hide it down here if we are ever in danger. You know about Hydra, and you know there’s always the possibility that one of them made it out alive.”
“Why the mattress?” You question. The mattress stands out like a sore thumb. It doesn’t belong down here, in weaponry.
“I told you, sometimes my nightmares are worse. I scream and, on very bad nights, I punch the walls or worse. If that happens, I go down here to not scare Alpine or hurt you.”
“Oh…OH!” You feel awful for thinking Bucky tried to hide things from you again. “I understand.”
“It’s for emergencies,” he hastily says as you glance at the weapons again. “I swear, we won’t need them.”
You nod and swallow thickly. Of course, you heard about Hydra and Bucky’s past. You just never thought the big bad guys could try to go after you.
“Better safe than sorry, right?” you stammer. All the guns make you nervous, but you know, Bucky is right. You can never be too careful. Other people get an extra door lock, and you’ve got a whole weaponry.
“Please don’t be scared,” Bucky says, gently touching your arm. “I know this is a lot.”
“Bucky,” you murmur his name and fake a smile. You’re still nervous because of all the weapons, but you don’t want to disappoint him. Bucky showed you his secret and openly talked about his nightmares. “Thank you for your honesty and trusting me.”
“I don’t want to hide things from you, Y/N. You were right. We cannot build this relationship on lies or secrets.”
“Good,” you say, and nod. “We should take care of dinner now. I bet Alpine is hungry too.”
You eat in silence while looking at Bucky. He seems less tense now that he has revealed this secret weaponry to you. Still, there is something you need to say.
“I don’t want you to sleep down there if the nightmares are bad,” you suddenly say. “If you need me, I’ll be there. We are a pair now, and I want to help you if you are sad or scared.”
“Doll, I can be scary when I wake from a nightmare.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you state, and put the cutlery aside. You get up from your seat to cup Bucky’s face. “We’re in this crazy thing we got ourselves into together. No more excuses. It’s us against the world now.”
“Us against the world,” Bucky repeats your words. He watches you crawl in his lap and sighs. “You’re crazy, you know.”
“You too,” you giggle. “For choosing me.”
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#Every Breath you take (19)
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in the middle of the night, in my dreams
din djarin x f!reader
summary: two people in completely different parts of the galaxy find each other in their dreams and try to make sense of their strange connection.
chapter one: the brown eyes
You
Neon lights. Tall, looming buildings. Hoards of people whose faces you can’t make out. You can hear them talking all around you, but the words are jumbled into white noise.
In the distance, you spot a sign, brightly lit in Aurebesh. It’s a cantina. It’s somewhere that’s a refuge from the sea of faceless people you're trapped in. It takes all your might to push through the crowd, yet you don't feel the sensation of people colliding with you. The people don’t react to you knocking them out of the way. They’re mindless, limp bodies without a soul behind those eyes, those eyes you can’t see.
Your feet are heavy and every step you take requires all of your concentration, all of your power to keep you going. It feels like a triumph when you reach the front of the cantina. You turn back to where you came from, looking at the mess that should be there. But it’s as if nothing happened, the sea of people is moving as one, like the surface of water when it’s left undisturbed.
The door to the cantina opens and you go inside. Heads turn toward your direction as you make your way through the room. None of the faces are legible, just a soulless, blank expression. Your mind wants to search for something familiar in the distorted faces, a sign you’re interacting with real humans, real living things. But to no avail.
You sit down at the bar in the middle of the room. Everyone’s heads are turned towards you, watching as you order a drink from the bartender. His head tilts to the side, as if he can’t understand what you’re saying. Your order is coming out clear as day as far as you can tell. The bartender shakes his head and walks away, leaving you dumbfounded and irritated. You need this. You need a drink to take the edge off whatever’s happening right now. It feels like you’re alone and you’re left with this existential dread that has you questioning everything around you.
You look over to your right and a man is sitting across the bar. He sets his drink down on the counter, looking at you with warm, brown, intriguing eyes. The first set of eyes you’ve seen so far here.
You open your mouth to say something, anything. But before you can…
You wake up. The same dull gray ceiling is the first thing you see when you open your eyes.
It was all a dream.
You roll over to your nightstand and grab your journal and a pen, trying to remember the details of the strange dream you had before you start forgetting entirely. Jotting down bits and pieces of what happened, you try to make sense of what you saw; bright lights, cryptic-looking silent people, ominous buildings, and also… a man; the only person in your dream who had an actual face.
Who was he? And will you see him again?
No time to dwell on it now. Work is beginning soon and you’re already running late.
Getting ready for work, you’re still half asleep. Head in the clouds as you pull on your work uniform; gray slacks, a work jacket, black boots, and your badge. But once you’re ready for your shift and glance at the clock again, you realize you should’ve left a long time ago. You dash through the door and anxiously navigate the maze of tunnels, heading towards the shuttle to the surface. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the last one for the day shift employees.
For anyone who’s not from Sullust, this maze would be impossible. Everywhere you turn looks exactly the same as where you just came from. But you’ve lived here your whole life, all you know are the tunnels, the common area, and the factory. For many cycles you’ve longed to breathe fresh air, feel the sun on your skin, the wind in your hair; the elements. You’re teased with them every day, watching from the securely enclosed factory. It looks beautiful on the surface with the sun shining innocently.
But the atmosphere on Sullust is toxic, its appearance deceiving. So, the native species, the Sullustans, were forced to go underground, building an interconnected web of tunnels sealed off from the surface. For being forced to live underground, the Sullustans did a good job making habitable places for the population, connecting lichen gardens to pools of potable water; a complex, underground labyrinth. It’s not a bad place to live by any means if you’re one of the wealthy Sullustans. You’re one of the only humans here and for as long as you can remember, you’ve been doomed to the caves. It makes you question how you got here in the first place. You have a theory you were sold to the SoroSuub Corporation as a child, raised to be a worker, another cog in the machine. But at night is when you’re free, letting your mind wander and aching for places you’ll never go to. Or ones that don’t exist at all.
You sprint towards the shuttle station, a dull, gray lift that takes you to the surface. It’s crowded, presumably all the people who overslept just like you did. But you can’t miss this. There’s not another shuttle after this and you don’t need to be reprimanded again at work. You push your way to the first car, but unlike the people in your dream, these people fight back, angrily shoving you with their elbows. You persist, fighting even harder towards the shuttle door.
Except now you’ve messed with the wrong person, elbowing a strong, burly man in the back. He turns towards you, towering over you and his brow furrowing in anger. You can’t even place who he is. He must work on a different floor than you do.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” he shouts as if your elbow even hurt him at all.
“Catching the shuttle,” you say smugly.
You’re getting pushed into him by the crowd as it moves forward, head colliding with his chest. But before he can grab you or hit you, you feel a hand on the collar of your shirt pulling you down to another shuttle car and shoving you inside. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath, searching for whoever grabbed you. And when you see who it is your stomach sinks a little.
“You’re welcome,” your coworker, Shoan, says.
He’s a guy who works on your floor and in your department. You both make droid parts (specifically parts for GU-series Guardian Police Droids). He always finds ways to get closer and closer to your station. It’s gone past some cute little work crush and transformed into a full-blown obsession. And it doesn’t matter how much you complain to your boss, because SoroSuub cares about performance and Shoan has one of the best performance rates in the whole company. He’s not going anywhere, and they don’t care about your feelings.
“Thanks, I guess?”
“What do you mean? That guy was about to pummel you!”
“It’s a better alternative than being here with you.”
“Is that any way to treat someone who saved you?”
You roll your eyes and glance at the door that’s still open. You could leave and go home, returning to your favorite thing in the world; sleeping, dreaming. Can you afford one more write-up on your record?
Shoan stands beside you, talking your ear off about Maker knows what. You’re doing your best to drown him out, the sound of his voice shifting into white noise. Zoning out, staring at the open door, you contemplate each option. As you’re staring out into space something derails your thoughts entirely.
Those eyes, those brown eyes, are all you can think, all you can see. Who was that? And why are his eyes following you from your dreams? What was he trying to say? Was he trying to say anything at all? You could go back home and to bed in the hopes of seeing him again.
You waited too long. The door is closed and the shuttle is moving towards the surface. Those eyes distracted you, made you lose your grip on reality for a moment. Whatever, it’s something to make the day more interesting you suppose.
“Are you even listening to me?” Shoan asks, tapping you on the shoulder.
“No,” you roll your eyes, “And get your hands off me.”
As soon as the shuttle door opens you power walk into the factory, looking at the fleeting moment of sunshine until you’re enclosed in a metal box again. The atmosphere on Sullust is toxic due to the volcanoes littering the surface. The gasses released during eruptions made living on the surface not viable and short exposure to it extremely uncomfortable. The small amount of sunshine you do see is deceiving. For one, it means the volcanoes aren’t acting up for once. And two, the sunshine makes it look like the surface is normal and not so far out of reach.
You scan in with your badge and head to your post, not looking forward to the next eight hours of the most boring process in the world. Just as you’re about to assemble some central processors, your supervisor, Orran, stops you.
“Employee 5526, you’re being transferred to a different department.”
Kriff yes.
“To where?”
“Weapons unit. Report to floor five. You’ll receive further instructions there.”
You can’t get out of there fast enough. Finally, what you’ve been hoping and longing for has happened. You walk past Shoan’s station, taking note of the dumbfounded expression on his face. You’re excited for the new endeavor and to get away from Shoan, but you don’t know the first thing about assembling weapons.
You make your way to the fifth floor, staring up at the fluorescent light in the elevator. It’s just a short ride and you’re already zoning out. Head in the clouds whenever your attention is not occupied by something else.
There they are again. Those eyes, this time not in your head but in front of you, staring back down at you from the light above. Who do they belong to? And what are they trying to tell you?
The door opens and they’re gone. It’s going to be hard to focus today.
The rest of your shift is relatively boring. You’ve been assigned to assemble JSP-14 Pistols and Mk IX Bayonets. There’s sort of a learning curve that comes with constructing them. But your new supervisor informed you that you have a week to get the hang of it.
You’re on your way home now, leaning against the wall of the shuttle and anxiously awaiting to be home already. There’s so much you have to do between making dinner, doing your laundry, and taking a shower in the refresher.
But all you want to do is sleep. Not even from being tired, but from wanting to explore more of your dreams, wanting to find those eyes.
That’s exactly what you do, collapsing onto your bed and letting sleep overtake you. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll meet those brown eyes again.
Din
The first thing Din sees when he opens his eyes is the top of his bunk– another morning waking up alone. Another morning without Grogu’s soft babbling coming from the hammock above.
Din doesn’t normally remember his dreams. For him, it’s just inky blackness from the moment his head hits the pillow until the moment he wakes up. Lately, he’s been remembering more and more minor details like a color, a smell, or a feeling. Nothing concrete. It’s all very abstract, things deep in his subconscious that for some reason are forcing themselves up to the surface.
This time, he recalls a color, one so bright it hurt his eyes a little bit. It was neon pink, not too different from the colors he’d seen lighting up signs on the streets of Coruscant. But that’s all he can remember, a color and nothing more.
He rolls out of the bunk, standing and stretching as much as he can in the cramped space. His time here has been quieter, lonelier ever since Grogu went to train with the Jedi. He’s spent most of his life alone, but the addition of Grogu filled a void he didn’t know he had. And now that he’s gone, the void is bigger, louder, and making sure its presence is known.
He pulls on his helmet and drags his feet to the ladder in the Crest, hoping that he’s somewhat close to Nevarro. He’s been collecting bounties here and there, doing his best to keep busy while also gathering tips on where the new Mandalorian covert is. He’ll settle into his normal routine once he lands; drop the bounty off, collect his credits, check the Razor Crest, and try to not stare at the inside of the metal box too long, not long enough where he wants to bash his head in.
It goes exactly like he expected. Karga’s men remove the bounty while Din suffers through Karga’s pleasantries. Din never particularly cares for small talk, but lately, he can’t stand it. His patience has slimmed; all he wants is to drop the bounty, collect the credits, take a new job, and move on.
But today, Karga says something out of the ordinary.
“Where’s your little green friend?”
Din’s eye twitches underneath his helmet. He’s not in the mood to talk about Grogu, especially not here, not now.
“With his own kind,” Din says stiffly, not wanting to delve into the topic much further than that.
“Well here’s your pay,” Karga says, sliding a bag of credits across the table towards Din.
“Got another one?” Din asks.
“So eager. You don’t want a break?”
“...No,” Din says, wanting this interaction to end already.
“I have a special job anyway. Here,” he says, sliding the tracking fob to Din, “Kaba Baiz, runs a meatpacking plant on Glavis Ringworld. You’ll bring him to the guild master there, an Ishi Tib, instead of bringing him to Nevarro. Dead or alive.”
Interesting. Karga’s guild doesn’t normally deal with other guilds in the galaxy, helping them coordinate jobs like this.
“Why can’t they just get someone from their guild to do it?”
“They asked for you specifically. They also have some information you might find valuable. But only after you secure the bounty.”
Din sighs. It’s an annoyed sigh and Karga picks up on that.
“They have information that might lead you to the Mandalorian covert.”
That certainly grabbed his attention.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Din says, taking the fob and sliding out from the booth.
“Good luck,” Karga nods.
Din responds with a silent tip of his helmet before leaving, anxious to get a move on. He’s never been to Glavis Ringworld before. He’s never dealt with another guild before. It’s all new territory for him, but he can’t complain. This is what he wanted after all.
He does his usual routine check-up on the Crest before searching for the Glavis Ringworld coordinates. He takes off and the routine is so ingrained in his mind, in his memory, that it doesn’t require much thought or care at all. To put it simply, he’s so kriffing bored all the time.
Once he’s in hyperspace, he realizes… he’s tired again. But how is that possible? He just woke up not that long ago…
But that slumber wasn’t normal. If anything, he woke up even more tired, as if he’d lived a thousand lives in the few hours he was asleep. He doesn’t think too much of it now, attributing it to stress or some unresolved feelings he’s not ready to address.
Giving in to his wants, he slumps down the ladder and into his bunk, only taking off his helmet and his jetpack before flopping down onto the small cot.
As he sleeps, he’s aware he’s dreaming this time, something that’s not normal for him. He recognizes where he is, too. He’s on Nevarro, wandering around the marketplace. He looks down and his pouch is absent from his dream– no Grogu.
Typical, he thinks to himself.
The wind blows through his hair.
The wind blows through his hair.
He’s not wearing his armor, not even his flight suit. In fact, none of his clothes seem normal. He’s wearing all black, everything from his shirt to his pants to his boots. For some reason, he still has his blaster attached to his belt but notably absent is the Darksaber.
It doesn’t matter. This is just a dream, he tells himself.
That still doesn’t quell the voice in the back of his head telling him how wrong this is. But he has to remind himself that the outfit sans helmet was not his idea. At least not consciously, that is.
He looks around and everything seems just how it always is. The sun is shining. The buildings look the same. The stands are stocked with various goods. Looks like a typical day in the marketplace. Except for one thing.
There are no people around.
He walks slowly, on guard and waiting for something to happen, keeping his hand on the handle of his blaster. It’s ominous being here alone. It gives him an uneasy feeling that something is coming, something is out to get him. But he couldn’t be more wrong.
As he turns a corner, he runs right into something– someone. Standing before him is a woman. She’s beautiful, the sun beaming down and hitting the high points of her face. Her lips are shiny and her eyes are kind and inviting. What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t typically notice small details about women in real life. What is it about the dream realm and you that makes him so observant, so keen on details?
He opens his mouth to ask who you are.
And then he wakes up, staring at the metal ceiling yet again.
-
@pedrostories @littlemisspascal
#din djarin smut#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#the mandalorian fanfiction
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hes a vast avatar to me for reasons
#(it's because I'm a vast avatar and I relate to him)#ok but I do have more reasons#first of all:#the sun is sooo vast to me. usually it's one of the first things that really makes you think about the scale of the universe#I mean it's one of the most significant things to life on earth. and it's so incomprehensibly massive compared to us..#it's around the same size as the moon in our sky despite being around 400 times further away#second of all. as my favorite guy mike said:#“what good's the height [and] terrifying draw of gravity unless you really *know* the scale of what you're facing?”#you have to KNOW the danger you're in. see the ground down below and feel the dizzying rush as you comprehend your fate#the cosmic beast blinks unable to focus on something so microscopic. you know it could crush you without even noticing#the way the stars a million lightyears away blink photons in your receptors and know you are so insignificant on a universal scale#third of all:#connecting to the last point. insignificance. that's literally the whole apathy thing#reminding heart he means nothing. the sun is depended on by its planets and everything that lives#the moon is a rock that orbits the earth. it reflects the sun's light. the most significant thing it does by itself is cause tidal changes.#fourth: mind just seems like the type of guy to enjoy the feeling of vertigo and want to kiss some cosmic entity#cj mind#nevermeanttodraw#thesuntheshadowscast
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They believe you’re the Herald because they need to. Without that hope, all that’s left is despair. We’re both bound by duty. Our lives aren’t ours to live. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.
#Dragon Age#Dragon Age: Inquisition#DAI#Blackwall#Thom Rainier#DA gifs#DAI gifs#gif#I somehow went from 'he really made it personal' and 'my lady don't' to giffing almost the entire thing#sir please chill#you guys haven't even held hands yet#one step at a time#don't make me chase you#I mean of course I know what his problem is - his baggage doesn't help in the light of the current events huh? HUH?#do you ever think about Blackwall - especially after catching feelings#standing there somewhere in the background as people sing to the Inquisitor during that horrible night?#or when the title of the Inquisitor was bestowed upon them as the whole courtyard cheered?#how would that feel in his case?#a weird mix of pride and inadequacy and sadness? something precious slipping through your fingers? ouch#this whole thing is actually kind of funny for my character - the way I headcanon her#she was just out to have some fun#get somebody to warm her bed#she's a qunari ex-merc living in a predominantly human environment and honestly not that much of a romantic#she finds life's simple pleasures when she can and#she's used to being told no#BUT NOT LIKE THIS#wtf? what's up with that?#gotta poke whatever this is some more#what could go wrong?
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I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha
I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.
I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.
It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.
Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?
And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.
The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.
These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?
Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.
The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.
After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.
#It's not that I think everything has to be character driven or take a lot of care about dynamics#Death Note for instance works well without it. There's juice in the dynamic between Light and his father and the role of Matsuda there#and it works well with Light's views and their evolution and the whole Kira situation. It isn't much. It doesn't need more#But Death Note doesn't truly drop something as big as Gojo and Megumi to then do barely nothing about it#('But L and Watari' not the same at all. That was deepened in the anime and besides Watari is not one of the main characters)#Or Megumi and his sister. If we see barely nothing of Megumi and his sister other than shiny flashbacks of her#how am I to feel moved by it all beyond superficial emotions? I don't know. It just feels so like cardboard to me#And it annoys me! It annoys me a lot! Because Jujutsu Kaisen has amazing potential! The dynamics and characters could be amazing!#But I don't trust they'll live to their full potential and the potential existing for nothing is ruining this for me xD#Jujutsu Kaisen#Sorry this time I'm tagging it. I want to find this and see if I was right when I'm finished. I think I'll read the manga too#The condescending filler breakfast comment by my friend was ironic considering the Kramer vs. Kramer breakfast scenes exist#Breakfast can be so telling. And besides he loves the Chainsaw Man coffee scene so I don't get why not breakfast#But truly some small daily life moments can tell us a lot about a character that we could recognise later on in high stakes scenes#such as how they deal in tense situations‚ what makes them snap#how they go about dealing with a problem.#Sometimes it could be smaller moments or conversations what makes characters reconsider things‚ not just having Sukuna rip their heart out#In Pandora Hearts the conversation between Elliot and Oz about the book series they love and their favourite characters becomes key#Oz's development and how he regards things‚ his own person‚ and how he deals with situations will be shaped later on by this conversation#till the very end. The entire main character's development is shaped by a 'filler' conversation.It's not filler. It's just not a fight scen#Shonen manga readers find everything filler except for fights which is ironic considering that many fights in shonen feel unnecessary#Breakfast is unnecessary. Just filler. Fighting thirty seven secondary monsters or chapter after chapter of physical training is not. Okay#Things can be small but plot relevant. If it shapes and fleshes out and deepens a character or a relationship it is not filler#And mainly MAINLY for the love of everything good if you're going to make a fucked up or Meaningful Beyond Everything dynamic#give it time and care. Actually write it. Don't give me two panels and one conversation after some life and death situation. It's not enoug#Especially if I'm to believe they are important. Make me believe they actually are#I don't know... This issue with not trusting the development of very well set potential in Jujutsu Kaisen#has not only been keeping me from thoroughly enjoying the series‚ but actively keeping me from watching for weeks#It makes me doubt if I want to spend my time in this at all since after all time is limited and we can but spend it in a handful of things#A pity. I really love some things and I really think Megumi and Gojo could be everything to me haha the Heathcliff/Hareton vibe gets me
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Ok. Real question. How many people Actually have believed in Santa? Bc I never did, mostly bc my dad never bothered with the entire pretense, so the whole concept is just. Really fucking strange to me
Putting an actual poll bc I feel like I'm losing my mind a bit thinking about how apparently widespread it is. Like. It's just so... weird? Why is this the thing people have popularized? It makes no sense.
#speculation nation#polls#like ok my dad's an atheist raised by jewish parents so xmas has never really been a religious sort of holiday to me#we celebrate it bc it's fun to give gifts and spend time with family#but that's... it.#all the lore and mythos of xmas is just so weird to me#like baby jesus etc etc but now here comes saint nicholas with the steel chair! (breaking into your house to eat your cookies#and leave presents Only for the rich kids! why only the rich ones? uhmmm Dont worry about it!)#genuinely speaking my dad's worked at ups my whole life so growing up he'd say he (and the rest of his coworkers) were the real santas#said as a joke mostly bc theyre the ones Actually delivering the packages#but i took it to heart. told people at school that my dad was the Real santa.#no one believed me lol which i found quite frustrating.#but yeah i have never once in my entire life believed in Santa#and im content with that. it seems like such a stupid thing i will be honest.#'what about the magic of christmas' what about the poor kids who dont get gifts & feel abandoned by this all-powerful man?#in fact why do we Want kids to not think it's their parents giving gifts? they cant thank the right people if we trick them.#it's a convoluted setup that makes absolutely 0 sense to me#trust me christmas had more than enough 'magic' for me as a kid just bc of all the cool lights and all the free gifts#dont need some mythological man who can travel the globe in one night and is a professional in B&E#makes no sense for Real.#there was a time with my ex step siblings where me n my sister were told not to spoil the fun for them#so i had to pretend like santa existed as they opened presents marked from him#and even back then i was just thinking 'this is So Dumb'#this is an anti santa zone i guess. me and myself hate the popularized version of this strange strange belief system.
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