#i can and will share more details if asked

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[deathbxnny]

Hi

Can I request a jinx x fem reader with abandonment issues that only grew stronger with jinx disappearing after silco death

(Sorry if that was long it’s my first time requesting :))

Please don't leave me. | Jinx x Fem!Reader

Hey there, dear Anon!! I absolutely love your request, and dw, it isn't long at all! Thank you for your great ask, and I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Heavy angst, abandonment issues, unhinged Jinx, grief, hurt/kinda comfort?, established romantic relationships, spoilers for season 2, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!

((Not proofread))

One day, she was there with you at your side, cuddling you to sleep whilst she promised to be back soon from a mission. And the next, she was gone for good, far away somewhere to escape her adoptive father's murder, including you, it seemed.

In a way, you weren't all too surprised by it, considering how her episodes were. Yes, it drove you mad to be apart from her for more than a couple of hours. But you were used to it and told yourself that she'd be back for you eventually. You two had an unreadable bond. You were always her "pretty girl" since she first met you. Would it be dramatic to say that it was maybe even love at first sight? It never was to her, at least. She always was the one to claim that you were made for eachother.

Yet now you wondered if it was all a simple lie. Or maybe she had forgotten all about you in the heat of the moment, the panic drowning out any emotion she had for you. And you stopped thinking about it about three months into her disappearance, hoping that acceptance would set you free from the exhausting cycle of fear and depression you were in.

How were you even functioning without her anymore? The answer to it was "not at all", but even that was too simple. Jinx had abandoned you. She had done the one thing she swore she'd never do because she out of all people would understand how much that hurt. How much it messed with one's soul and body. Every second without her tormented you, and you couldn't help but wonder why you weren't enough for her to at least take you along to wherever she went. You would've followed her to the end of the world if it meant not ending up alone like this anymore.

You were going crazy and it only solidified when one night you found yourself waking up to the image of her laying on her side in your once shared bed, those magenta eyes glowing in the darkness of your room. You had imagined this moment plenty of times before in many different ways. In some daydreams, you scream at her in anger for abandoning you, and in others, you simply ignore her and turn away, just like she had with you. Neither of those things happened, and instead, you burst into tears and practically jumped onto her.

You asked her for an explanation. You asked her why she abandoned you. You asked her if she still loved you. But all she did was soothe you as you cried and sobbed, her hand carefully rubbing your back up and down with a newfound softness she had never had before. Whatever she experienced in her absence must've changed something in her. You could feel it deep down. The way her soul seemed lighter and calmer. But your anger for just leaving you like this didn't subside, even when you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to an empty bed, though, and that confirmed that you must've been hallucinating... until you notice a small note on your nightstand detailing her return in a couple of days. She hadn't forgotten you after all. She had come to find you despite her grief and tribulations.

And that made you smile weakly for the first time in months as her love finally seeped in again, even from afar.

[accio-victuuri]

THE Life of Us/Drifting MUSIC VIDEO IS AMAZING 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I think one can make an entire essay long post trying to explain what the scenes could mean. I’m glad that XZ was able to meet and work with a director like LIN who was able to execute this. I can only imagine the creative ideas XZ had for this and to have someone understand his vision and bring it to life is special. It’s so obvious the time, effort and money spent on this and we got it for free. The entire album is free to listen to. I just. Everything about this drop is such a slap to the antis who said it will be 9 covers and 1 original song but XZ goes bitch hold my beer lemme give all original songs and high quality music videos. oh wait, let me write some of the songs too. let me put in some details in my life there just to make it fun. how about that?!

which leads me to those said details/references that someone has compiled. i’m gonna share it here. 📝

P1: the person climbing a ladder in the clouds is something he drew before. I’m proud of him cause this idea of his has been realized. this reminds me of jack and the beanstalk!

P2: the books are design related. i’d like to think it’s his favorite go-to books!

P4: Knitting yarn! XZ knits!

P5: this is pretty obvious and recurring theme when it comes him - the little prince 🌹

P6: more of a comparison from when he was designer xz to now. he was wearing something similar.

P7: Life of Us = Life of Pi. Which is explained more in P8. OP mention that the main character Pi said when writing in his diary: "Everything has become chaotic and broken, I can no longer distinguish between daydreams, sleep, and reality.” The movie/book is a story about a young man who survived a shipwreck and drifted on the sea.but the deeper level seems to be a discussion about human nature, animal nature, and divinity. It’s about the struggle between ego, id, and superego.That tiger may be Pi's heart. What is drifting on the sea, for Pi, is me and "I"; and Pi, It seems to be the epitome of every "us". Finally, Pi told more than one version of the story, and he asked: "Which version do you prefer?" In fact, the choice of the story has always been "me".

"Life of Us/Drifting" sings "What is a dream, what is my greatest fear" "What is a dream, what is what I want most" It’s a question about your own heart, and only you can give the answer.

P9: that scene in the movie ET

additional ones, his favorite paper plane making an appearance and a similar shot from the animated film castle in the sky.

and i noticed that one take where you can see some vintage things like the telephone, but i realized that xz is almost the same age as me so these are things we grew up using!

i’m sure there are more details here and not to mention the hidden meanings too. but that is what makes this video so fun to watch multiple times! you can discover something new each time! I hope they release some behind the scenes on how this was created and all that. i think there should be a documentary of sorts connected to this album if i remember correctly. so yeah! so much more in store for is when it comes to this album 😊

[jadkyll]

jade leech -

-likes to think he’s found a kindred spirit.

you both playing this little, game every time you grace the monstro lounge with your presence.

the tea game, he muses to himself one day.

sitting you down in a cicular booth facing the giant aquarium, jade would hand you a small, black leather menu and the monstro’s signature plum leather menu. both having gold dipped edged you’d use to peel them open and look at their insides.

the smaller menu, the one you would only get and your friends would crowd around you once it was in your hands, trying to peer inside at it’s secrets- was a special menu.

a secret one.

only jade and azul had the authority to give out these menus- floyd showing time and time again that he’d hand them out just to screw with the two, had his privileges revoked.

it always made jade smile when he’d set down your special meal, your friends eyes lighting up the cool, dim lighting of the resturant. their eyes hubgrily eating up every detail of the dish.

honeyed ham

seasoned sea food boil

shrimp ala- whatever.

while your two friends from heartslabyul were stuck with the ‘surf ‘n turf,’ you were out here eating like a king.

jade’s quick, gloved hands ready to slap away any sticky fingers- paws that tried eating from your plate. his plate.

jade could care less about the roasted lamb, or the fish heads packed with flavors.

your relationship blossomed from tea. the leaves that jade would expertly mix and seep into a perfect blend for each customer. his own inventions being placed on the secret menu, or promotions for a monstro event that had the customers vying for more.

jade would watch with a baited breath as you took a sip, lashes fluttering closed so you could focus on your taste buds.

a scrunched face meant you didn’t like it, lifted brows meant you were pleasantly surprised, and when you would swoosh it around your mouth like mouth wash? well, that meant jade had won.

the first few tomes you were at the lounge you would order a different tea and a light snack- sometimes a salad and other times 3 whole crabs for you and grim. jade remembers that day, when it was you 5 in a booth, very clearly.

have you heard about the joke where you, grim, and 3 crabs walked into a bar?

besides the point-

jade was watching you scan the menu, a stink on your face as you were stuck on the teas.

he remembers floyd calling you ‘weird’ when jade brought the order to the kitchen. ‘who orders tea with crab?’ his face contorted in disgust as a minnow swims around floyd. he always had a way of bending his environments to his will.

but jade just stares at the ticket, “yes,” he says, “how weird indeed”

“oi get that creepy smile off yer face. yer creep’n me out”

as usual jade seeps your tea and you drink it. he knows you. your tea.

there’s something so intimate about knowing exactly how someone likes their tea that gives jade satisfaction.

you put your trust in his hands. his cynical, conniving hands.

he could spit in your tea ya know. he’s done it before to especially annoying customers. who think they’re in control because he’s serving them. mix up with a pinch of salt, or a dash of sriracha sauce and he’s grinning ear to ear as they down it.

oh lovely.

—

but he’d never do that to you.. he hopes he doesn’t have to.

it takes you 3 visits and a menu change to finally convince azul to let you in on the monstro’s little secret.

jade, as he brags, harassed azul to put more teas on the menu. when he did add 2 more jade deemed it, ‘not good enough.’ azul buying into it (for profit) added teas to the daily specials.

“not good enough. i have an audience to apease and you are stifling my creative endeavors. i will not tolerate such a-“

“just give her the menu jade! sevens above!-“

if jade leech ever did skip, he’d be on his way with a heel click.

so you can obviously imagine his grin as he places the leather book in your mitts, your friends asking where theirs is- only to get ignored.

“please do not share the contents inside with other parties. this is strictly for our monstro vip’s and will be confiscated if you cannot follow our rules.” he bows in thanks as you voice your agreement.

turning his heel he can practically hear the chaos ensuing as your friends try reaching and peeking.

“tropical darljeeng, wonder how’ll it’ll work” you grin as jade jots down your order. you had told him to give you whatever he wanted to give you. ‘dealers choice’ to be more specific.

…what jade won’t ever tell anyone is that he made that tea thinking of you.

it was a black tea, infused with an opposing flavor. tropical against woody, you and him. a child of the sea and child of the land. never meant to work and mix yet has a unique addicting flavor to it.

non tea enjoyers would know that darjeeling is more… robust.

it can turn off people just from the description- tropical tea with a black tea?? are you nuts?!

yes. yes he is.

so jade is pleasantly surprised when you ask him for another cup the moment you took a sip…

he leaves his number under the tea mug, and gets a text an hour later.

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away - H

I think I'm nearly there; the end! Though, I feel personality changes in as I keep write Agatha and Rio ... SSSSHT

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part ?

The longer you stayed, the more the strange tension that had first hung between you all began to dissolve, replaced by an ease that both comforted and unsettled you. It wasn’t the answers you had come for, but it was something else—something warmer, something real.

Rio sprawled out on cushions on the wooden floor, her head propped up by her hand as she laughed at something Agatha had said. The sound was bright, almost childlike in its glee, though there was an edge to it that made your pulse quicken. Agatha, in contrast, sat with her legs crossed, her expression carefully composed, though the occasional smirk betrayed her amusement.

"You two are impossible," you said, shaking your head as you watched them bicker over some trivial detail. "Sometimes, I don’t know how you can stand each other less love each other."

"Oh, it’s not standing—it’s thriving," Rio quipped, her dark eyes glinting mischievously as she threw a casual arm over the back of a mountain of cushions. "Agatha keeps me on my toes, and I keep her… entertained."

"Entertained?" Agatha scoffed, raising a brow, not taking her eyes off her book. "Try exasperated."

"You love it," Rio teased, her grin widening as she reached over to tug at Agatha’s sleeve playfully.

Agatha’s sharp gaze softened ever so slightly, and for a moment, you caught a flicker of something raw and unguarded in her eyes. She quickly masked it with a roll of her eyes, brushing Rio’s hand away with feigned annoyance. "You’re incorrigible," she muttered, though the corners of her mouth curved into a faint smile.

You watched them with a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Their connection was undeniable—intense, magnetic, and filled with a depth that made your heart ache. You wanted to be a part of that, to share in the love they so clearly had for each other. Your cheeks burned as you took it all in. Their ease with each other was too different the rigid decorum you were accustomed to, and yet it only deepened the strange love you felt growing for them.

Rio tilted her head, clearly sensing your lingering look. "Still reacting like this after everything, pretty lady?" she teased, her grin widening. "You’ve already chased us down, asked all these questions, and even admitted you love us. Surely, a little casual behaviour isn’t going to scare you off."

You couldn’t deny the lingering culture shock of seeing Rio lounging so casually, her feet almost carelessly close to the table. You exhaled slowly, shaking your head at your own absurdity.

"You’re so different, and sometimes it feels like I’m the one out of place here."

Agatha’s sharp gaze softened ever so slightly, her smirk deepening as if she found your flustered honesty amusing. "Out of place?" she echoed, tilting her head. "Doll, you’re sitting here with us, aren’t you? That’s hardly out of place."

Rio stretched out further, her posture even more relaxed as she flashed you a knowing grin. "Exactly. You fit in here more than you think, pretty lady."

You glanced between them, feeling the tension that had been knotting in your chest begin to ease. Their casual confidence was infectious, and though part of you still felt out of your depth, another part began to wonder if they were right. Maybe you weren’t as out of place as you feared.

Shaking your head, you let out a breathy laugh. "You two… I don’t even know how to describe it."

"Describe us?" Rio interjected, her grin widening with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Oh, please do. I’m dying to hear how utterly charming we are."

"Charming isn’t the word I’d use," you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Frustrating might be more accurate."

"Frustratingly charming," Rio corrected without missing a beat, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. "But go on, don’t stop now."

Agatha chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. "She’s catching on," she murmured, her sharp gaze flicking to you with amusement. "Doll, you might just surprise us."

"Do you two ever stop?" you asked, exasperation laced with affection as you leaned back in your chair.

"Stop what? Being devastatingly and frustratingly charming?" Rio asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence that only made her grin more infectious.

Agatha rolled her eyes but smirked nonetheless. "Infuriating is the word you’re looking for, doll," she said dryly, though there was no mistaking the fondness in her tone.

"Infuriatingly charming," Rio declared triumphantly. "I’ll take it."

Agatha let out a soft chuckle, the sound low and rich. "Careful, doll. Keep this up, and you might actually start enjoying our company."

"Too late," you admitted without any hesitation. The words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt your cheeks flush under their combined gazes.

Rio’s smile softened, and for once, there was no teasing in her expression. "Well, that’s good," she said, her voice warm and genuine. "Because we’re starting to enjoy yours too."

A quiet laugh escaped you, and before you could overthink it, you stood and crossed to where Agatha sat. Without ceremony, you flopped down beside her, the cushion beneath you sinking slightly as you settled in. Your shoulder brushed against hers, and you couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of floral clinging to her.

Agatha arched a brow, her sharp blue eyes flicking to you as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Comfortable, doll?" she drawled, though there was no real bite in her tone.

"Yes, actually," you replied, tilting your head to meet her gaze with a small, teasing smile. "You make a good shield."

"A shield?" she echoed, amusement lacing her voice as she leaned back, closing her book. "From what, exactly?"

You didn’t answer, instead glancing over at Rio, who was watching the two of you with an expression that could only be described as delighted. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and she didn’t hesitate to shift closer, effectively sandwiching Agatha between you.

"Perfect," Rio said brightly, her grin wide and unapologetic. "Now I get to see you both up close. It’s like my birthday."

Agatha rolled her eyes but didn’t move, though you noticed the slight stiffening of her shoulders. After a moment, she let out an exaggerated sigh, feigning discomfort. "Honestly," she muttered, "if you’re going to crowd me like this…"

She trailed off, her arm lifting and draping casually around your shoulders. The motion was fluid, almost dismissive, but the weight of her arm sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. You stiffened, the warmth rising from your neck to the tips of your ears as you tried to focus on anything but the fact that Agatha was now holding you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rio’s grin widened as she leaned her chin on her palm, clearly enjoying the scene. "Well, isn’t this cosy," she remarked, her tone dripping with amusement.

Agatha’s smirk deepened, her fingers tapping lightly against your shoulder. "Cosy enough for you, doll?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.

"I…" You faltered, the words catching in your throat as your face grew impossibly hotter. "It’s… fine," you managed, though your voice sounded embarrassingly high-pitched even to your own ears.

Rio laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained as she reclined against her cushion. "Oh, you’re precious," she said, her dark eyes twinkling. "I think I like this side of you, pretty lady."

Agatha chuckled, the sound low and warm. "She’s full of surprises," she murmured, her gaze flicking to you briefly before returning to Rio. "Wouldn’t you agree?"

The conversation shifted after that, flowing naturally as you all fell into an easy rhythm. Rio’s wild gestures and exaggerated stories filled the space with laughter, her energy infectious even when it bordered on overwhelming. Agatha, in contrast, remained sharp and composed, though her biting humour and occasional soft chuckles hinted at a depth she kept carefully guarded.

Despite their differences, their connection was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but feel the strange love toward them grow stronger with each passing moment. Sitting there between them, with Agatha’s arm still draped around you and Rio’s teasing gaze never straying far, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: belonging.

"You’re awfully quiet," Agatha remarked suddenly, her piercing gaze cutting through your thoughts. "Something on your mind, doll?"

You hesitated, your fingers playing with the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. "Just… thinking," you said softly, glancing between the two of them. "About how different you are. And yet, how… perfectly you fit."

Rio raised a brow, her grin turning sly. "Are you saying you admire us, pretty lady?"

"Maybe," you replied, your voice steady despite the warmth rising to your cheeks. "Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out how you haven’t driven each other mad yet."

Agatha laughed, the sound unguarded and rich. "Oh, trust me, we’ve come close," she said, her tone lighter than you’d ever heard it. "But somehow, we always find our way back to each other."

Her words struck a chord deep within you, and you wondered if they felt the same way about you. Did they notice the connection forming between the three of you? It felt fragile yet undeniable, and for now, you chose not to ask, content to let the moment linger, warm and unhurried.

Time had passed, and the tension that had once defined your visits to Agatha and Rio’s surreal home had softened into something far more comfortable. You spent more time in their world, wrapped in their unique blend of wit, charm, and enigmatic allure. You had begun to understand their quirks—the way Agatha masked her emotions with biting humour and Rio’s unpredictable energy could shift from playful to commanding in a heartbeat.

Sometimes, both women disappeared, citing 'business' that required their attention. Though they never explained in detail, you suspected it was tied to their magic. Occasionally, you heard whispers of Lord Rio at your household—visiting the court or being spotted in the city. Those moments left you both flustered and intrigued as you wondered what she was up to in your world while you lingered in theirs.

One morning, your grandfather summoned you to his chambers. The moment you stepped inside, the heavy atmosphere made your chest tighten. He sat at his desk, a letter open before him, his expression as stern as ever.

"You wanted to see me, Grandfather?" you asked politely, though a part of you already dreaded what was coming.

He gestured for you to sit, and you obeyed, folding your hands neatly in your lap. For a moment, he studied you, his piercing gaze weighing heavily on you.

"There is an important matter to discuss," he said finally. "A marriage proposal has been brought to my attention. From the royal family."

Your stomach dropped, and your carefully composed expression faltered. "The royal family?" you echoed, your voice quieter than you intended.

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. "It is a significant opportunity for our family. To marry into the royal line is an honour and a privilege."

Your thoughts raced, panic clawing at your chest. The idea of marrying someone from the royal family—someone you did not know, someone who was not Agatha or Rio—felt like a weight pressing down on you.

"I…" You hesitated, searching for an escape. "What about Lord Rio?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted your impulsiveness, knowing your grandfather would not accept.

Your grandfather frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. "Lord Rio?"

You nodded quickly, forcing yourself to sound composed. "He is well-respected, is he not? A foreign lord with influence and intelligence. Surely, he would make a suitable match."

For a moment, your grandfather said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then he let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Lord Rio is indeed an impressive individual," he admitted. "But he is a foreigner. Marrying him would not bring the same advantages as joining the royal family."

Your heart sank, though you struggled to keep your disappointment from showing. "But surely… there is value in forging alliances beyond our borders," you argued weakly, knowing your words held little weight against his unwavering logic.

"Enough," he said firmly, cutting off any further protest. "You are a noble daughter of this household. Your duty is to strengthen our family’s position. A marriage to the royal line achieves that."

You bit your lip, your hands clenching in your lap. "And what if I do not wish to marry at all?" you asked quietly, the words slipping out in one breath.

Your grandfather’s eyes darkened, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Wishes have little place in matters of duty," he said coldly. "You would do well to remember that."

The conversation left you feeling both trapped and defiant. Your mind swirled with thoughts of Agatha and Rio. Their world felt like freedom compared to the suffocating expectations of your family. But what could you do? The love you felt toward them had only grown stronger, but it seemed the ties of duty were tightening around you with every passing day.

You needed to see them, to be in their presence again. Perhaps they would know what to do—or perhaps simply being near them would remind you of the courage you so desperately needed to find within yourself.

You did not even realise you ran out of your grandfather's study and were running until your lungs began to burn. The sound of your grandfather’s angry shouting echoed faintly behind you, but you did not care. You just kept going, your feet carrying you instinctively toward the only place that felt safe anymore.

The entrance to their realm came into view, the shimmering gate glowing faintly in the daylight. Without hesitation, you passed through, the familiar sense of comfort washing over you like a warm embrace. It was as though the air was cradling you, soothing your frayed nerves even as your emotions overwhelmed you.

Tears welled in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they began to fall—slow, silent drops rolling down your cheeks. Tears started falling drop by drop, staining the collar of your dress as you walked toward their house. It stood there as it always did, serene and otherworldly, its soft glow contrasting with your turmoil.

The door creaked softly as you pushed it open. The silence inside was palpable, the air still and expectant. You stepped inside, your legs feeling heavier with each step. When you reached the corner of the room, you could no longer hold yourself up. You sank to your knees, wrapping your arms around them as you waited for them to return.

You did not know how long you stayed like that, your tears soaking into the fabric of your dress as you sat in the stillness of their home. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and before you realised it, sleep claimed you.

A soft touch pulled you from the haze of slumber. Gentle fingers brushed your shoulder, shaking you awake with a care that felt almost reverent.

You blinked your eyes open, and the first thing you saw was Agatha’s face hovering above you. Her piercing blue eyes, usually guarded, were filled with an unspoken concern. There was no smirk, no teasing remark—just raw, unfiltered emotion. It startled you almost as much as the tenderness in her touch.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry. She crouched down in front of you, her hand lingering on your shoulder as her eyes searched yours.

The flood of emotions you had been holding back broke free. Without thinking, you threw yourself into her arms, your hands clutching at the back of her robe as you buried your face in her shoulder. A sob tore from your throat, followed by another, and another. Sobbing, you tightened your embrace around her.

Agatha froze for a moment, clearly startled by the sudden embrace. But then, slowly, her arms came up to wrap around you, holding you close as you cried. Her hands were gentle, one resting on the back of your head while the other rubbed soothing circles against your back.

"Shh," she murmured, her voice softer than you had ever heard. "It’s alright, doll. Let it out."

The sound of her voice only made you cry harder, the weight of everything crashing down on you at once. The pressure of your family’s expectations, the suffocating proposal, and the fear of losing the connection you had built with these two women poured out in a torrent of tears.

Agatha didn’t pull away or try to quiet you. She simply held you, her embrace firm and reassuring as you let the storm within you rage. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel everything without restraint, knowing you were safe in her arms.

When your sobs finally subsided, you pulled back slightly, your face flushed and tear-streaked as you met her gaze. Agatha’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. Her expression was soft, her sharp features unusually tender as she looked at you.

"You’ve been holding this in for a while, haven’t you?" she asked gently, her tone free of its usual teasing edge.

You nodded, your throat too tight to form words. Her hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before she pulled you back into a hug, resting her chin lightly on the top of your head.

"Good," she said softly. "I’d hate to think you didn’t trust us enough to let it out."

The words hit you harder than they should have, and you clung to her even tighter. For the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe again.

You hadn’t realised Rio was there until her voice broke the quiet behind Agatha. Turning your head slightly, you met her gaze, and what you saw there startled you—a mix of anger… and was that jealousy?

Rio said nothing as she stepped closer, her movements fluid and purposeful. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on the top of your head in an almost comforting gesture, though her intense expression said otherwise. Her dark eyes seemed to shimmer before they glinted fiercely, a predatory light flickering within them.

Her eyes gleamed sharply.

Without a word, Rio drew a dagger from her robes—a weapon you hadn’t seen for some time, its sleek blade catching the faint light of the room. She tilted her head, her voice dangerously soft as she asked, "Who do I need to torture?"

Despite the tension of the moment, a soft laugh escaped you. The absurdity of her statement and the fact that Agatha’s arm was still wrapped securely around you made the situation feel oddly surreal. Your laughter was light but genuine, and it caught Rio off guard.

Rio pouted dramatically, her expression shifting into something almost petulant. "I’m not joking," she whined, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her dagger. "If you don’t want me to do it, Agatha always can. She’s much better at getting rid of problems anyway."

Agatha sighed, her hand moving to rub your back as she spoke gently. "Rio," she said, her tone laced with exasperation, though a fondness was underlying it. "You’re not helping."

"But look at her!" Rio retorted, gesturing toward you with her free hand. "Someone made her cry. That deserves retribution, doesn’t it?"

You shook your head, a faint smile still tugging at your lips despite the lingering ache in your chest. "I don’t need anyone to be tortured," you said softly, your voice steady but kind. "I just… needed to be here."

Rio huffed, crossing her arms as she tucked the dagger back into her robes. "Fine," she muttered, though her tone was far from resigned. She leaned down slightly, her face close to yours, as she added, "But if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, you let me know."

Her declaration was so fierce, so unapologetically protective, that it sent a strange warmth coursing through you. You glanced up at Agatha, who was watching Rio with a bemused expression, her lips quirking into a half-smile.

"She’s serious, you know," Agatha said, her tone carrying a teasing edge. "It’s not often she gets this… worked up."

Rio straightened, her pout returning. "Worked up? I’m perfectly calm."

Agatha chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Of course you are," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "Perfectly calm, with a dagger in hand and murder in your eyes."

Rio rolled her eyes but said nothing, choosing instead to plop herself down on the floor beside you and Agatha. She rested her chin on her palm, her gaze softening as it lingered on you. "Still," she murmured, her tone quieter now, "whoever hurt you better hope they never cross me."

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, though they were spoken with deadly sincerity. The knot in your chest began to loosen for the first time since you’d arrived. Here, in their surreal, star-lit realm, you felt a strange sense of belonging—a place where you could fall apart and still be held together.

You felt Agatha’s lips press gently against the crown of your head, a gesture so unexpected it sent a pleasant warmth coursing through you. The soft touch of her lips against your hair lingered, and you realised, to your own surprise, how much you liked it.

Agatha pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting yours momentarily before flicking to Rio. "Help her up," she said simply, though her tone had an unspoken tenderness.

Rio moved to your side, her hands firm yet gentle as she helped you to your feet. But before you could steady yourself, she pulled you into her embrace, her arms wrapping around you with an almost possessive edge. The unexpected closeness made your heart race, and before you could process the moment, Rio leaned down and kissed your forehead.

It wasn’t soft or fleeting. It was deliberate, lingering, and filled with an intensity that made your breath catch. The way her lips pressed against your skin spoke volumes, and you could feel your face flush deeply.

"Rio," Agatha said, her tone carrying a mix of exasperation and amusement. She crossed her arms and raised a brow at her companion. "Really? You kiss her forehead before I do?"

Rio pulled back slightly, her grin wide and unapologetic. She glanced down at you, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "First one wins," she said playfully, directing the comment at Agatha rather than you.

Your cheeks burned hotter at the exchange, but Rio didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she enjoyed your reaction too much to stop. She shot Agatha a challenging look, her grin growing wider as she added, "You snooze, you lose."

Agatha rolled her eyes dramatically but didn’t bother to hide the smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, how mature," she drawled, turning away with a flick of her wrist. "Perhaps I should let you handle this, then."

You watched as Agatha moved toward a small cabinet in the corner of the room. With her usual flourish, she waved her hand, the faint purple haze of her magic shimmering in the air as a teacup floated toward her. It settled gently on the table, steam rising from the fragrant brew within.

She returned with the tea in hand, her expression softening as she offered it to you. "Drink," she said, her voice calm but firm. "It’ll help."

This time, you didn't hesitate and took the cup, the warmth seeping into your hands as you cradled it. Agatha sat down beside you, her gaze steady and encouraging, while Rio settled on your other side, her playful grin giving way to a quieter curiosity.

"What happened?" Agatha coaxed gently, her eyes searching yours. Her tone was free of its usual sharpness, replaced instead by a genuine concern that made it hard to look away.

Rio leaned in slightly, her presence as steady and reassuring as Agatha’s, though her approach was more casual. "Take your time, my lady," she said softly, her voice carrying an edge of protectiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. "We’re not going anywhere."

Their combined attention was overwhelming but in the best way. You felt safe enough to speak for the first time in what felt like hours.

You took a deep breath, the warmth of the tea in your hands steadying you just enough to begin. "It’s… about the marriage proposal," you started, your voice faltering slightly as their attention sharpened on you. "A royal family has made an offer for me."

Rio’s brow lifted, her casual demeanour shifting into something more focused. Agatha’s expression darkened, her sharp gaze growing colder.

"My grandfather called me into his study to discuss it," you continued, your words spilling out faster now. "He talked about alliances and duty, all those things I’ve heard before. And then—" you hesitated, the memory of your desperation making your cheeks burn "—I panicked. I told him to consider… to consider Lord Rio instead."

Rio’s eyes widened, her grin spreading so quickly that it was almost comical. She leaned back with a triumphant laugh, her dark eyes glinting with pride. "Did you now?" she drawled, her voice thick with amusement. "Oh, my lady, I knew you had excellent taste." She turned to Agatha, her grin practically splitting her face. "Did you hear that? She picked me."

Agatha rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been a smirk. "Yes, Rio, we’re all terribly impressed," she said dryly, though her attention quickly shifted back to you, her piercing gaze softening slightly.

Rio didn’t stop, clearly relishing the moment. "Marrying into the royal family, huh?" she mused, her voice playful but carrying a dangerous undertone. "And yet, you suggested me. I’m flattered, my lady. Truly."

You couldn’t help but feel flustered under her burning gaze, her words only adding to the heat already burning in your cheeks. "It wasn’t—" you started to protest, but Rio’s grin silenced you, her satisfaction radiating like a tangible force.

The playful air around Rio didn’t seem to extend to Agatha. Her expression had grown darker as you spoke, her hand tightening slightly around her teacup. Her voice was low and firm when she finally spoke, carrying a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"He has no right to force you into anything," Agatha said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She set her tea aside and reached for your hand, her touch warm and steady. "You are not a bargaining chip, not some prize to be traded for alliances."

Her words were fierce, but the kiss she pressed to your hand was surprisingly gentle, the contrast leaving you breathless. When she looked up at you again, her blue eyes glinted sharply. "You’re ours," she declared, her voice quiet but filled with a conviction that made your heart race.

Rio’s grin softened into something warmer, though no less mischievous. "Agatha’s right," she said, leaning in slightly. "You’re not going anywhere, my lady. Not unless it’s with us."

You felt the weight of their words settle over you, heavy but not unwelcome. Despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you—confusion, fear, longing—you couldn’t deny the comfort their presence brought. Here, with their unwavering attention and fierce protectiveness, you felt more at home than you ever had in the confines of your own family.

Agatha’s fingers lingered against yours, her touch steady as she studied your face. "You don’t have to decide anything now," she said softly, her voice losing some of its earlier edge. "But know this—we won’t let anyone take you away from us."

Rio reached out, her hand brushing lightly against your shoulder. "And if your grandfather insists on pushing this," she added, her voice carrying a dangerous undertone, "he’ll find that he’s underestimated just how far we’re willing to go to keep you safe."

You couldn’t help but smile, their words filling you with a strange, undeniable sense of belonging. For the first time since your grandfather had brought up the proposal, you felt… at peace.

[spencahreadreid]

and though the town was cold and wet.. S.R X R

-----------------------------

cute little snow fic with spencer!! fluff, gn reader, no y/n, no gender specifics. any issues, please comment or let me know, I'm open to requests and asks!

Maybe it was the excitement, you and your heart of gold, easily entertained by everything. It could've been the fact that you wanted to continue shaping the ice into 'people', either way, you failed to notice the way your hands were beginning to change colour in the low temperature. Not to mention, your cheeks, nose, ears, knuckles, practically your whole body. Under your large coat and Spencer's scarf, you felt mostly warm between multiple layers he'd begged you to put on, which led you to think it was okay to stay out longer.

So when Spencer came back outside to see you'd rejected the gloves to make more 'intricate' details into your current art, he wasn't happy. To him it looked like an oval with holes in the same formation as a bowling ball, but you claimed it was his face. He noticed the rosewood pink shade your fingertips were turning and crossed his arms over his chest. Standing in the doorway with that gentle and loving but also very concerned expression on his face.

"You know, hypothermia can develop in little as five minutes. If you're not dressed properly, your scalp, hands, fingers and your face are usually the first parts of your body affected-" You stood there almost dumbfounded, the same chunk of round ice slowly melting in your palm, watching him talk with the backdoor half open.

"Oh.. cool?" You could honestly care less about hypothermia, it was almost like a big myth a parent would tell you about so you would come inside. Your eyes never left him, and vice versa, except he was taking in your small figure halfway up the garden. You were trembling a little due to the lack of layers on your lower half.

"The elderly and infants are especially vulnerable, but it can take under an hour for a person to actually freeze to death if the conditio-" you had cut him off by dropping your sculpture and letting it fall, breaking into pieces under you. A new horrified expression came over you, brows furrowing and eyes widening with pure terror.

"What?! You didn't think to tell me that before I came out here with no hat on?" You walked closer to the door, to where he was standing and placed a hand onto his arm, where his wooly jumper was rolled up. He immediately flinched and shivered, pulling his arm away which made your lips curl into a pout.

"You're freezing, honey.. I think we should get you warmed up, hm?" His voice was as tender and gentle as usual, but he felt that if you refused he'd definitely have to be more stern next time. Without even thinking, you nodded, he opened the door fully and let you in before making his way through to the living room to start a fire. He'd been out there with you before leaving to go inside for 'paperwork' (he honestly just got too cold but you let him lie). After stripping off your coat and his scarf, hooking them both up you went to go meet him, rubbing your palms together as you walked through and sat on the carpet by his side.

Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he decided to ignore the fact your hair was slightly damp from your earlier activity of throwing snow around. Letting you rest close for a while with the excuse of 'sharing body heat'. Soon he decided that hot cocoa would be a good idea.

"Keep your fingers close together, don't get too close to the fire because your hands are in a state where you won't realise it if they get too hot.." he stood up mid sentence and then continued, getting louder as he travelled further and then made it to the kitchen. "You can borrow a pair of my socks I left on the washed pile, they'll help you get warmer faster!"

You shouted back a thanks in response, slipping on the wool socks he'd conveniently left out. You knew deep down he'd left them there for you on purpose, but sometimes you got fussy when he cared too much. Almost like a child being told they need to eat all their veggies to be healthy, if anything like that came out of Spencer's mouth your face would scrunch into a playful scowl. You secretly loved it though, which is what made things better when your loving boyfriend returned with two cups of hot chocolate, both of them extra sweet.

"Warm fluid can help your body warm up, but only for a short amount of time. The temperature change would only be around 2.5 degrees and will only last for around twenty minutes, after that your body will return to the same temperature as before the drink."

The way he wouldn't stop just continuously info-dumping made you smile, he had a fact for everything, but by now it was more endearing than anything. You thanked him for the knowledge and gave him a kiss on the cheek, sending him into a blush, the same kind of pink yours had earlier.

"Are you feeling cold?" Drawing out the word 'cold' you smiled teasingly at him. He shook his head and paid you back with a simple kiss on the cheek.

"Humans blush because of adrenaline release, when you're embarrassed feeling a strong emotion, the blood vessels in your face dilate. It's controlled by the autonomic nervous system and it's an involuntary response."

Another snicker left you and the face he gave you almost read 'whats so funny?' it made you laugh a little more until he finally caught a case of the giggles alongside your own.

"So you blushed because the strong emotion was.. love?" You questioned while brushing up close to his side, voice teasing and almost sing-song.

"You could say that, yeah.."

[annawayne]

Hi, Ann! Hope you're having a good day. I wanted to ask—why do you think some people refuse to acknowledge that the sins of other characters in Attack on Titan are no better or worse than Annie's? Why does she seem to get more hate compared to characters like Bertholdt, Reiner, or even Eren? Annie is one of the most hated characters, along with Gabi. Do you think this could be because she's a woman? Her personality is similar to Levi's in different circumstances, yet she gets criticized heavily. People even accuse her of manipulating or bullying Mikasa. What are your thoughts?

Hello!

Oh, thank you a lot for asking! (and sorry it took me a few days to answer it)

There are a lot of wonderful metas on this topic, but I would be glad to contribute a bit with my thoughts on it as well, and thank you for the ask!

Here, a small disclaimer at the beginning: I'll talk only about my personal thoughts, focusing primarily on my reflections on why this intense hate comes from that are not related to the basic "I just don't like her" - it's all valid, and it's absolutely fine not to like a particular character just because, and it's nothing to do with plain hate.

I think that one of the main issues of Annie's hatred is not even about Annie as a character, but, unfortunately, by the way her character arc is built. We see her at the very beginning, and she is still the second-line character, even if she's EXTREMELY important to the plot. So, back then, we had her screen time, and let's be honest, not as much as I personally would love to have, primarily because she's an incredibly beautiful, interesting character with her unique points of view on the world and, as turns out later, one of the most prominent roles in the story as a whole. Still, till her reveal as Female Titan, we have some scenes with her, we have some impacts on other characters (also significant, like for Eren and Armin, for example), and then, the Female Titan arc happens and... she disappears for a VERY long period of time from the show, appearing much, much later, firstly, in flashback like a glimpse, and only then, with her whole come back during the literal apocalypse. So when the time comes to give us her backstory - I won't lie, it feels rushed, and I think, Isayma has a very great sense of self-irony when he articulates it through Hitch's mouth: "Wait, what is it a sudden sharing of your story?", all while on the background the Colossals take a march. I honestly think that Isayma also understood that it's definitely not telling enough to sympathize with Annie's character when it's presented like this (for me, personally, it was enough and I just simply would love to have more, since Annie's past in Liberio is one of the most interesting topics for me), but on the other hand, he couldn't reveal her story earlier because it would hint at her comeback FAR too obviously.

So, one of the main points is this large gap in her presence and a bit rushed exploration of her character due to the lack of time because of the situation around the characters. For example, we have a very detailed dive into Reiner's character, and still, I also feel like there's much more to explore with his character and his psycho, and what we can even say about Annie, who doesn't have such detailed exploration but has the same difficult and complex past which is undeniably important to understand not only her as a character but also more about the universe of AoT?

The next thing that plays the role here is linked to the previous one - due to the massive gap in Annie's presence in the story, many people forget many things about her. Primarily, her emotions. I think it's one of the most overlooked things regarding her character and in AoT in general. The way we see her tears IN HER TITAN FORM when she fails to capture Eren? Her tears when she was crystallizing herself? Her eyes, full of fear, when she woke up before the whole Stohess thing? Her genuine surprise, which she tried immediately to dismiss when Armin called her a good person? Her smile when Eren complimented her on her skills, which was also deleted from the anime but remains in the manga?

Here, I need to highlight an essential thing: Annie's Titan is the only Titan that is capable of showing emotions.

If we look closely, everyone else has their emotions relatively very firm, like, for example, Bert's and Armin's Colossals, caged and restricted by bones; Reiner, it looks to me, is not only the shield for others, but he's a shield from himself, completely forced to be armored in everything he feels; Lara's Titan also seems like covered in pristine white chains, and it's also interesting since she was, let's say, the shifter with a twist; Pieck's Titan also has a very permanent expression, which is compensated by her incredible endurance, just like Porco's or Ymir's Jaws lack of emotions are compensated by their mobility; Eren's Titan has always this emotion of rage as if it's the only feeling he could have going into attack. Zeke's monkey is the only other Titan with emotions, which is also intriguing.

So, back to Annie, her Titan is emotional: her tears from the failed attempt to catch Eren; like she was genuinely shocked to see people under the rubble when she fought Eren, and he threw her towards the church, leading to its crashing; like she smiled when she saw Armin under the hood; how she returned to the last battle, and how she screams in her Titan form - I genuinely here a lot of "human" in this tune, something, she doesn't allow herself in her human form. And yet, people focus a lot on the infamous "yo-yo" thing, on her battle with Levi's squad and other people, where, ironically, she attacks only when she has a direct threat to her identity or capture. If we look closely, Annie avoids fighting humans as much as possible till she's attacked directly - she runs, she screams, she tries to show off people not to touch her, and when it comes to the "fight or to lose" (which is also a remarkable parallel to Eren's character), she attacks, not to mention the obvious question - how else you act at war? Yes, back then, it wasn't something we could call like that specifically, yet she had a military mission, which, by the way, she was failing for several reasons, primarily because she's not so cold-blooded as her character is often reduced to. So, how else was she supposed to act? We don't see a lot of the same questions, for example, for Armin, who came to her hometown and blew up the port with many more casualties among civilians.

In AoT, everyone has sins. Everyone, with no exception, but Annie sometimes seems to carry the hate as if she's the typical antagonist that is supposed to be hated just because the genre demands (she's not even an antagonist either).

To sum up, Annie's character is simply very misunderstood. She's one of the most interesting characters in AoT, and I say it not because she's my fav, but primarily - she's my fav because she's much more complex than some people see her, starting from her mindset and views of the world to her development, which shows how unlovable, unwanted flower that was denied to bloom, grows through the cement and concrete, firstly, with the spikes not to let anyone close because she knows how it's to be hurt, and then, that uses these spikes, this strength to protect others and eventually leaving them be on the cold floor, and she - growing more and more into buyoant garden.

Her hands aren't without blood, and so are the others who have the same invisible tint on their skin, and yet, the same hands that only knew destruction and cold touch could also be soft and build something new, something much more powerful than her Titans kicks.

When Hitch asks her if she would do all the same, Annie says - yes, but I see it as only the mirror of Levi's "living with no regrets." Objectively speaking, Annie understands that it's impossible to turn the time back, and living among these endless what-ifs doesn't give any change - it's gone and cemented in history as it is. All these potential questions of "what would you do" are more of a mental trick to whitewash the ego. Annie doesn't do it - she understands that nothing of it was something to be proud of, and she never was, and at the same time, she doesn't know anything else. To do something differently from what point exactly? From her crystallization? Not to reveal herself earlier? Not to give Armin a chance to live twice? Not to go into the mission? Force Reiner to return? Not to listen to her father? Not to be born?

Where exactly could this point change something?

Annie doesn't lie to herself, and she doesn't look back with abstract thoughts of "How would it be," but when the time comes to actually take another action, she does it; she returns to the final battle before it becomes another "what if."

And it says more than anything else.

Annie is an honest character, primarily with herself, and she doesn't want to pretend to be better than she is. This makes her character much more human than some people try to make her look.

So, that's it!

It was quite a long read, and thank you everyone who reached this point, I appreciate your time on this!

Thank you a lot for asking, and have a good *timezone*!

[vladdyissues]

Lately Ive seen some awful things about antis and haters making threats and getting artists banned from Tumblr and X. Im new to the Phandom and love pompep but Im scared i'll be targeted if I write and share pompep fics. How do you manage sharing your work so bravely?

Firstly, welcome to the Phandom—and especially Pompous Pep! I have a simple protocol for enjoying a drama-free Tumblr experience:

Preventative Action

1. Find your community. Follow other Pompep fans and supporters and reblog their things. Don't be afraid to leave nice tags; we love and welcome interactions :) You can also join the Pompep Discord server if you enjoy chatting (DM me for details).

2. Turn off anon asks. This will solve 99% of all potential problems, and you can turn it back on whenever you want. Antis are cowards who prefer to hide behind the mask of anonymity. They seldom have the courage to say something with their whole username.

3. Block the obvious haters. This is a big fandom, and at some point you're likely to come across people openly hating on pompep, either on their bio, pinned posts, or comments. Block them. For an added layer of protection, add their username to your Filtering Options.

4. Tag your work appropriately. When posting, make sure your work is tagged correctly (the #pompous pep tag is especially important) so people who like pompep can find it and those who want to avoid it can block the tag. Use Content Labels when applicable.

5. Try to avoid using the platonic tag (#badger cereal) and the romantic tag (#pompous pep) at the same time. Some fans are really touchy about this. I'm not, and I think there are legitimate cases where use of both is applicable, but if you want to minimize friction, just stick with one tag or the other.

If you're not sure which tag to use, ask yourself what your intentions are with your art or fic. Is the goal a romantic relationship? If so, use the pompep tag. If it's truly ambiguous and could be seen either way, use the platonic tag first. You can always add another tag like "okay to tag as pompep", just to let people know they can interpret it however they please.

Responsive Action

If the above guidelines aren't 100% effective, here's what you do:

1. Don't feed the trolls. If you receive any negative asks in your inbox, it's important to NOT engage with them. Delete them, ignore them, don't let them get to you. Antis thrive on attention, so let them starve. Eventually they'll move on when they realize they're not going to get a rise out of you.

The same goes for any negative comment left on your work. Just delete it, block the person who left it, and pretend it never happened.

These asks and comments may come in the form of questions. Example: "How can you ship Danny with Vlad? That's [insert gross accusation here]" Resist the urge to answer these questions. They are not made in good faith. This person just wants to start an argument.

2. Report any harassment. If by some chance you receive a seriously hateful ask, like threats of violence or abuse, take a screenshot for proof/safekeeping, then report the message and the user if they're not anonymous. If the ask is anonymous, use the meatball menu (•••) at the top right to report the message and block the anon.

Final Words

It takes time to develop a thick skin and Don't Give A Fuck attitude, but it can be done. You are a phan. You have every right to be here and enjoy this fandom in peace, just like everyone else. Anyone who believes in harassing others over silly things like which cartoon characters should be allowed to kiss clearly has nothing better to do with their life. The sooner you shut them out, the happier you'll be.

Regarding media: Artists attract a lot more negative attention than writers for reasons I won't get into right now, but if you're mainly a writer, you will enjoy a much quieter fandom experience. Wherever you post your stories—I recommend AO3; DM me if you need an invite—follow the same advice there as I've given here: make sure your work is tagged correctly; support your fellow Pompep fans by reading and commenting on their works, building that community; moderate comments if you're concerned about negativity; block and mute users if they give you any trouble, and you'll enjoy a much more positive fandom experience.

There is strength in community. When you start making new fandom friends, you'll feel a lot less lonely, and that will give you the confidence you need to really have a good time here.

Wishing you the best, anon!

[dragon-curse-au]

Been thinking about different cookie species within the AU and their differences/similarities a bunch lately, so I figured I'd share some cool facts!

While humanoid is the most common appearance a cookie can take, there are several subspecies across Earthbread that take on more animalistic traits, some ranging from minor details such as pointed ears and fangs to being a full-on centaur. It's how modern day dragons blend in amongst cookies in their smaller forms, given that reptilian cookies like Carameleon exist.

Coffee cookies will be the most prominent ones you'll see in this AU and they share many traits with other cookie species, such as flower cookies and moon imps. They're relatively humanoid with cat-like features, such as large pointed ears, fur patches, paws, thin tails, and slitted pupils, though not many of them remain from the original tribe in the Dark Cacao Kingdom. In fact, the only coffee cookies that remain to this day happen to be hybrids. Espresso and Affogato are siblings and are part cream wolf, though they present more coffee cookie than cream wolf - Affogato having thicker fur than Espresso an easier tell. Prune Juice is also half coffee cookie, though his other half is Parfaedian, which gives him less animal traits than others.

Coffee cookies are well known for their expertise and prowess with their own unique form of magic, but Prune Juice was born with that trait dormant, marking him as a disappointment in his family's eyes. Prune Juice often tries to hide his coffee cookie traits so that others don't view him as a freak.

Every larger region of Earthbread has their own coffee-adjacent cookies. The most well-known are flower cookies, sphinx cookies, and moon imps. Flower cookies are more elf-like in appearance, lacking the fur that coffee cookies have save for the tufts along their jawlines and their tails. Sphinx cookies are the most feline of all, though the only surviving members are Golden Cheese and her daughter, Rich Cheese. Moon imps are also unfortunately nearly completely extinct save for Shadow/Blueberry Milk and Eclipse Wizard. Moon imps used to occupy the City of Wizards and southern Beast Yeast, though evolution either snuffed them out of existence or caused them to evolve into something else.

Moon imps are relatively unique with their digitgrade hooved feet, barbed tails, and pointed ears. Most have horns as well, but there are a few who do not. Their primary flavor is blueberries, though the ones that occupy southern Beast Yeast have more milk in their dough than others.

I want to bring up Clotted Cream and Camellia since they're half flower cookie as well; Light Cream is vanillian while their father was a full-on flower cookie. Clotted Cream passes as purebred vanillian save for hair tufts on the jawline and tail, which he was raised to keep hidden under Elder Custard's orders and was told that they were mere genetic defects. No one can mistake his faint floral scent, however. Camellia is on the opposite end of the spectrum, presenting as a pure flower cookie.

Honorable creature-like cookies would be from the Licorice Tribe (aquatic traits), Spice Swarm (centaurs or almost entirely animal more than cookie), and whatever Mystic Flour is (insectoid).

If you have any questions feel free to ask! I like yapping about this stuff :]c

[amiableness]

Elina’s 4k celebration ; Positivity Picnic <3

First off, thank you so much for 4k! I can't wrap my head around the fact that so many of you decided to follow me, and I can't say thank you enough for being here. Since most, if not all of you, are following me to read fics, I thought it would be fitting to find ways to spread love to other fanfic writers.

Just as fanfics are free, so is your interaction—and it means more than you know. To show your support, choose a few food items to bring to our picnic:

If you participate, let me know here! Or you can tag me in something <3

🍰 - Leave a comment on a fic you’ve enjoyed. I challenge you to comment what you loved specifically about it, it’s nice feedback for writers!

🥗 - Reblog a fic with a quote that you loved and why you loved it or how it made you feel

🍝 - Send an ask (anon or not!) and ask a writer a question about one of their works

🥧 - Make a fic reblog account to reblog all your favorites fics. This keeps all your favorite fics organized and means so much to writers!

🍓- Make a masterlist of all your favorite works. I promise you that it makes an authors day when they’re included on one of these lists!

🍒 - Send an ask to a writer about one of their works. These are my favorite to receive because then you can freak out over something together!

🥖 - Get creative with your reblogs! Add memes and/or tell them how their writing made you feel. Reblogs with allll your thoughts about the work is a writers love language!

🍯- Make a mood board for a fic! I’ve seen people in others fandoms make these for their favorite works, so if this is something you’re into, share it!

🥨 - Art of a scene or character from a fic! Same with mood boards, if you’re into it, it might be fun to share it with an author. I promise you that they’ll love it

Why we need interaction:

I’ve noticed so many fanfic writers feeling discouraged due to a lack of interaction with their works. At the same time, I’ve come across polls and anon asks where readers admit they don’t understand why interaction matters—or even find it annoying when writers ask for it. But here’s the thing: writers have every right to ask for interaction.

We spend hours working on every detail—perfecting lines, mapping out scenes, changing dialogue until it flows just right. It’s a lot of work and while we don’t get paid for it, those reblogs, comments, or asks? In an odd way, it’s almost like getting paid. The interaction is the reward for your hard work. And really, it means so much to know that someone took five minutes out of their day to share their thoughts after you’ve spent hours on a fic.

So, if you think interacting with fanfic is pointless or too much effort, maybe fanfiction isn’t for you.

The fanfic community is so much better with interaction. I’ve seen so many mutals leave over the years because of lack of interaction, so if you enjoy someone’s work, tell them. I know many of you have thought, “My comment or reblog won’t make a difference,” but you couldn’t be more wrong. It makes a huge impact.

Now that my rant is over, if you have any more ideas, let me know and I’ll add them! <3

[2346khith]

‎‏I am mohammed ayyad of Gazans, living in very difficult conditions because of the war that the Gaza Strip is under. Since the outbreak of the war on the seventh of October we have been evacuating .

‎‏Then the journey of suffering and separation began,because my children were separated and evacuated from our home without covering or clothes., From here they became infected with diseases, and what increased our fatigue was the constant upbringing due to the different areas in which we were displaced, as we were displaced 9 times, and this was very expensive, the last of which was the 9th of this August from Hamad Town. In addition to that, we have lived in the summer season in a tent that did not exceed three meters, closed with nylon, so it is like an agricultural greenhouse atmosphere. It is very hot. All in all, we live difficult days that no human beings can afford

We have no work because of the war, and we do not have any kind of money and this is accompanied by a crazy and horrible rise in prices.

Although water is not suitable for drinking, this is the cause of many diseases

The last suffering is that we are out of Hamad without taking our purposes or our tents and now we are searching the earth in the roads and our children and our elderly parents are suffering..So we use direct donation including what they can or share links fully so people can know our tragedy and pain. Remember a small contribution can make a difference in the lives of many children who are dealing with their health condition all. Leave their details and make them happy with your generous contribution.

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[sleepyrory]

NZFirst is trying to fuck with trans healthcare and I will not let it stand.

There has recently been a publication made by the now right-wing government controlled ministry of health in Aotearoa New Zealand about the usage of specific puberty blockers. Despite there being little to no evidence against their use even in their own evidence brief there is clearly an intention to restrict their usage particularly on those who cannot make their own informed health decisions, which here is at age 16. This has been an effort spearheaded by Winston Peters and his right wing New Zealand First party, and supprted by right wing Act, with ambivilance from the centre right National party.

"well that sounds really shit what can i do about it" Thanks for asking, on this page you can read the contents of the publications and at the bottom of the page you can fill out a form stating your views on this and potential future changes they make, this can be done even if you are not a citizen of New Zealand. As for protests, this only came out today and there was only just recently a large hīkoi protest against another facet of this administration's current crusade against minority groups, The Treaty Principles Bill, that had over >40,000 in attendance (not big on a global scale but considering the city has about 200,000 people in it thats alot) so there may be a reluctance for another large protest again so soon, I am not currently aware of any protests however if anyone has any more up to date news on this please share it.

I don't usually make posts to this effect but this is an important issue that needs to be heard, sorry if any details are wrong, feel free to correct me.

In conclusion, trans rights are human rights, toitū te tiriti, don't let them push us back to the 1970's

[cancerian-woman]

one thing about Tyler that always cracked me up was how he was obviously not white but his parents are. in my head his mom was played by someone else that was Latina bc then it would make sense that he could come out brown. coming from a latin family genes can be really funny like that. a white passing Latina non-triggered werewolf mom would have been neat.

I love your headcanon!💕 I have similar headcanons about this! That Carol isn’t Tyler’s birth mother and that his actual mother was paid off by the Lockwoods specifically Richard’s dad. A child out of wedlock with a Latina woman wouldn’t look good on their family assuming that Richard’s dad was the mayor before him. So, Carol went out of town with Tyler’s mother and came back with Tyler.

I love asks and headcanons like these since the Lockwoods were done so dirty in canon. We don’t get any further details on their history until TO which was just used to further Hayley/Klaus’s plotline. I hated that the Lockwoods specifically Tyler would’ve had the Hallow’s bones that was needed to protect Hope. Yes, she was an innocent child unlike her family that I understand but after everything Tyler went through seeing a real apology from probably Hayley cause Klaus is an asshole would’ve been great cause Tyler deserved that.

Anyway please feel free to share more thoughts on this! I’d love to hear them!

[sayakxmi]

Some ideas for V3 as Remanants of Despair* under the cut, cuz it's prolly gonna be rambly.

Gonna preface it all by saying that some stuff will likely be inspired by in fact by Buttercup_ghost if not just downright borrowed, bc their takes are great (fully recomending reading the fic), but I'm also trying to add my own spin to it.

Another thing is that I like the idea of V3 Remanants being delusional/convinced they're doing the right thing. They all gave me very strong self-righteous vibes, and it's a recipe for disaster. Like, class 77 are more "burning the world down to burn it" while 79 (V3) are like "gotta burn it/purge it to make it into a better place". Like, Junko specifically used the fact that they are naive and view themselves as good people against them.

Shuichi Saihara

Ok, so first of all - SAWhara? Amazing, spectuacular, never been done before, full credit to Buttercup_ghost bc I love this idea so much. But I kinda like the idea of Despair!Saihara being some kind of a harbinger of truth if you get me. He sort of is one in the game, but there he is gentle and unwilling, but as a Despair, he has none of that kindness he's occassionally willing to give to the culprits. No secrets are safe around him, he will dig it all out to cause strife and despair. Unless, of course, you can actually overcome it. In that case, you have a chance of surviving. He probably doesn't view it as truth ruining people's lives but the lies they'd told to hide it earlier.

Also, again from Buttercup_ghost, but the idea of Junko getting to Shuichi first makes just so much sense. The two best picks are either Shuichi or Kokichi, but I feel like they also cancel each other. They're both capable of falling, but also they're both capable of standing their grounds if others fall first. The difference is that Shuichi is liked and can get Junko close to others, while Kokichi is alone and he'll always be, so getting through him first is a shot in the knee kinda, bc others won't be as trusting as they would've been if you met literally anybody else first, F. Plus, there's a chance of using that loneliness against him later to make him fall, so it makes sense that way, too.

Kaede Akamatsu

It's like semi-borrowed from in fact (it's faster to write the fic titile than the author's, so I'll be doing that from now on), but only semi bc it's something I probably would have come up to myself even without reading it, like, girl decides to take the one for the team & kill somebody, hoping the person that dies will be the one that "deseved" that/was the real enemy, and it's similar here. Some people are Evil and they need to Die.

Rantaro Amami

Something something, failing your family will get you in trouble, that's also why one of the first people he kills are his own parents. I mean, you lost 12 daughters, by now you should have found at least one, you're rich and all that, you can afford it, but apparently it's only Rantaro who cares enough to involve a detective I guess? But, yeah, abusers of all kinds are the targets, neglectful parents etc etc. You get the idea. It sounds ok in paper, but the definition of abuse in his eyes is kind of unclear, so if you beat up your kid he'll be after you, and you can also just have a nasty argument with your spouse, and then you won't have a spouse, so. And, again, the point of V3 as RoD is that they are doing what they believe to be right, but they have sekwed up perception of right and wrong and zero limits.

K1-B0

Something we kinda forget about Kiibou is that he canonically looks down on Shuichi, like, bro just tells him he saw him as beneath him in their last FTE, and only changed his mind after some time. MAN. But, anyway, Despair!Kiibou isn't trying to be perceived as like humans or anything of this sort, I mean, why would he put himself on equal grounds with some people (derogatory)? He's so much better than them! He's a robot, he's smarter, he's stronger, he simply knows best. And people better recognize that or they'll get burned to crisps. I can also see him perceiving himself as somebody who should make the law (a nod to all that lawsuit things), he kinda goes dictator mode I guess. Fuck the three laws of robotics.

Gonta Gokuhara

Straight up stealing from in fact, bc Gonta going around mercy killing people who are "least likely to survive" is peak. Also love him not considering the rest of his class his friends anymore (save for Kokichi, but we'll get to it later).

Angie Yonaga

Again, in fact, Angie believing that Junko is her god makes sense to me. Grl started a cult probably, so first half of chapter 3, but there's more blood, I guess.

Tenko Chabashira

Definitely one of the more difficult ones to turn into a Despair, but I can sorta see her misandry spiking up. My idea is kinda that since Shuichi, a degenerate male, brought Junko to them, which put Himiko and other girls in danger, she straight up blamed him for what happened, and got radicalized over time. Though, admittedly, Despair!Tenko is a subject to change if I come up with something better.

Himiko Yumeno

Chapter 2 body discovery, except she's doing it on purpose. Himiko Yumeno, Blood is Magic. Maybe she embraces the "evil witch" archetype, too. Nobody will question her status as a mage if they're dead. I like where I'm going with it, but I'm struggling to put it into words, I hope you get the idea.

Miu Iruma

I tried to think of something, and against myself I ended up kinda agreeing with in fact again, oh well. It just makes a lot of sense for her to turn into a Despair out of paranoia - get them before they get you, y'know? But it's Miu, so her ego has to be involved somehow. It's a mix, then, she's afraid of everything, but also wants the world to acknowledge her genius and hotness, so if she has to blast some people into fractions, she will.

Korekiyo Shinguji

Listen he was like 16 in the game how tf he managed to not only kill almost 100 women, but also somehow not be caught. Bro isn't exactly the definition of subtle appearance-wise. He's supcious as hell, actually. And for that reason, again, sadly, in fact went into this direction, and so am I. I told you the author's takes were great.

Ryouma Hoshi

Aaaand in fact isn't over. It was awfully simple with him - he has nothing left to lose, so Junko gets him to care about her, and he doesn't care what happens to the rest of the world.

Kirumi Toujo

I'm not 100% sure about it, but I'm kind of vibing with that backstory of hers, that she once served somebody so well that person became unable to do their job, and her opting to do just that, because everybody else is fucking incompetent compared to her, and she deserves far more appreciation. She's resentful, and she'll smile and bow politely and ruin her employers' lives from the inside, showing them they're nothing in comparison.

Tsumugi Shirogane

She's a tricky one, but I can imagine Junko making her recognize her "true potential" or something. She's likely the one who idealizes Junko the most out of everybody, and I can see it as somewhat similar to the Mikan situation, which, oof. She gives Tsumugi all the attention she could possibly ask for, while for the rest of the world she might as well not exist, and she roams it in various costumes, doing whatever she pleases and avoiding responsibility. She's similar to Impostor in a way, but I'd say their difference is that Tsumugi can copy only some general stuff, mostly visually, so she can trick people into believing she's somebody else only for a little bit, while Impostor is so good they could live somebody's life for years and nobody would question it too hard unless they and the original were literally in the same room, and also Impostor can learn their skillsets. Anyway, I think at her core Tsumugi just feels worthless, so she becomes anything else for Junko, and when she's dead, her reason for being herself is gone, too - nobody cares about some Plain Jane, so she wants to become the next Junko to feel the void something something.

Kaito Momota

I'm really entertaining the idea of him just embracing the worst parts of himself - he believes himself to be the hero, the main character, the chosen one, and he requires others to recognize that. He pulls a vigilante, probably, but, as usual in Despair!V3, his view of who is and who isn't a criminal is skewed. But it doesn't matter, because he's never wrong in his judgement. He knows best who desevres or doesn't deserve to live, and he takes all the credit for putting the ones who don't into their grave.

Maki Harukawa

And who else does Kaito take the credit from if not the Ultimate Assassin herself? Ngl, they give me the vibe of Fuyuhiko and Peko. Kaito's the hero, and Maki's his sidekick, his weapon. Her hands can never be clean, but she can use them to make the world a better place by getting rid of all the filth. And she trusts Kaito's judgement, so if he tells her to kill somebody, they'll be dead.

*Kokichi Ouma

In fact gets the credit for making me realize things can be happening in the same universe, and also that V3 can be the ones responsible for what happens to him. Kokichi isn't a Remanant, he essentially takes Chiaki's role. He is by no means his class' hope, but he sure af won't let anybody touch them (well, an attempt was made). I've mentioned by Shuichi that best options would have been either to start with him or Kokichi, and yeah. Kokichi absolutelu could become Despair under the right circumstances, anybody could, but Junko made her choice, and while it was logical, it also meant Kokichi will not fall to her. He was recognized by HPA as the Ultimate Supreme Leader for a reason. Nobody touches his people and gets away with it (whoops, she did). Bro went through a Chiaki-style execution, except he reaches his class who weren't as friendly to him as Chiaki's would've been. By which I mean they toruterd him to near death. Like, I have specifically ideas for Kiibou burning his wrists, making the hand-shaped scars resemble cuffs (punishment for all the robophobia, Kiibou doesn't need the human laws to do things for him, he can judge crimes himself), Gonta knocking him out, bc he wanted Kokichi not to be awake to experience any of that, and at some point when Kokichi looks at Shuichi, Shuichi ends up stabbing him in the eye. RIP.

In the good route, both him and Chiaki survive, btw. Very long story would be that Chiaki, Nagito and Kokichi were friends in HPA, doing some investigating on Kamukura Project and Junko, and for Reasons Nagito was suspended for a while, so he wasn't there when Junko was getting to his classmates, blah blah, Kokichi tells him to go where his classmates went (Chiaki's execution place), bc he has to go after his own to safety or sth (even tells him about DICE in case something happens to him, bc he has a Plan, but no plan is 100% cerain to be succesful), so Nagito gets there when she's still alive if barely, Kamukura arrives, Nagito gets him to help Chiaki anyway. Kokichi's execution happens some time later, and Nagito and Chiaki find out and get to him when he's already like 90% in the grave & thanks to Kamukura he survives.

Bad route has them not get to Kokichi on time, and also at some point both Nagito and Chiak die, so they're both AIs in the simulation, long story.

[caemidraws]

Can i ask what classes your dnd characters (and the other peoples too..basically the ones you draw!!) are ^_^?

[circus music]

[protagonist-art]

"Uh- I'm Arnold. Bennett. It's profoundly difficult to get your lifes works and studies accepted if your name isn't... yes, oh! Are you a fan of moths, sir?"

NEW RDR2 OC!! a reclusive, clumsy entomologist and bug collector; cooped up in his study of uniformed clutter