#i dont have a lot of words but i have a deep emotional connection to this song

[peridoxikal-redux]

It's the 14th overseas, so I think it's a good time now to post.

Happy 15th anniversary to Rolling Girl, my favorite wowaka song and one that kept me afloat during my worst years.

I'll keep rolling too. 🌙

[bratkook]

deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk

part one. part two. v-day drabble

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah

The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 

Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 

The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 

You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 

When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 

Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 

You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 

Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 

The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 

“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 

You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 

When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 

It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 

You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 

The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 

You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 

He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”

“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 

Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”

You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”

He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 

“Those must be your favorite huh?”

You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”

He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”

“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 

“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 

“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 

“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”

His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”

“Y/N.”

He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 

He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 

Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 

“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 

“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”

You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”

He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”

“Got it. So you torture people?”

Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”

You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 

It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 

Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 

“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 

You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”

His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 

“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 

“My boyfriend, specifically.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 

The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 

But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 

“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”

You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 

You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 

Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 

The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 

And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 

It was innocent. 

“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 

“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 

“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 

“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 

“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 

Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 

Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.

Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.

The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 

The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 

It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.

“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 

“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”

“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 

“You know what?” you whisper. 

“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”

You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”

“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 

“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”

Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”

The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 

“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 

“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  

“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”

“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 

He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”

“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 

Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 

“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 

“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”

Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”

“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”

Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”

“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 

“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 

“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”

Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”

“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 

“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”

That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 

It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 

As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 

“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 

“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 

“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”

“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 

“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 

You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 

“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 

“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 

“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 

He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 

Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 

“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 

“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 

Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 

It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 

Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 

You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 

“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 

Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 

Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 

He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 

“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 

“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 

Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 

The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 

“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 

You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 

It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 

“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling

“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 

“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 

“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 

“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 

Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 

“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 

“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 

Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 

The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 

The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 

“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 

“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 

Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 

“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 

“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 

“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”

You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 

“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 

Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 

“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 

“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 

“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 

“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 

The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 

“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 

“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench

“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”

The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 

“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”

He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 

Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 

Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 

“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 

“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 

It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 

A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 

“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 

“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 

“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 

“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”

You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”

He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 

“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 

It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 

“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 

“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 

“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 

He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 

Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 

“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 

“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 

“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 

Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 

“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”

Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 

Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 

“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 

The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 

“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 

He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 

You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 

“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”

Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 

If you were mine. 

That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 

“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 

Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 

“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 

All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 

You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 

But that's not your reality. 

You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 

As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 

Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 

“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 

“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”

And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 

Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 

Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x

Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 

Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐱

paige bueckers x podcaster!reader

wc: 4.9k

synopsis: Y/N and Paige’s relationship evolves from a slow burn to a deep, committed love as they navigate the complexities of their careers and dreams.

warnings: emotional tension, angst, jealousy, explicit sexual content, fluff, relationship growth

a/n: last chapter!! i've been writing some oneshots as i dont plan on starting a new series for a while, so i have those queued to come out over the next several days!

Paige stood by the door, her hand on the handle, her face a mix of frustration and regret. The air between you felt heavy, loaded with words that had cut deeper than either of you intended. She hesitated, her lips parting as though she might say something, but then she shook her head.

“I’ll give you some space,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t reply, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared at the floor. A knot of anger and sadness churned in your stomach, and though you wanted to stop her, to demand that she stay and work this out now, you let her leave. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You sank onto the couch, staring at the spot where Paige had just been. The argument replayed in your mind, every word sharp and jagged. Your heart ached with the weight of it all—how could someone you loved so much, who claimed to know you so well, dismiss something so integral to who you were?

Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the bookshelf, a candid shot of you and Paige laughing at the beach. It had been taken on a rare day off for her, one where she hadn’t been thinking about practice schedules or interviews, and you hadn’t been preoccupied with editing episodes or planning content. In that moment, you’d felt so connected, so certain that love was enough to bridge any gap.

But now, the gap felt wider than ever.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, and let out a shaky breath. Could you keep holding on to a love that asked you to compromise so much of yourself? You didn’t doubt your feelings for Paige; you loved her more deeply than you’d ever thought possible. But love wasn’t supposed to come at the cost of your identity.

Still, even through the hurt, you found yourself thinking of the way she looked at you, how her presence could light up the darkest days. You thought of the sacrifices she’d made to reach where she was, the pressure she carried every day as the face of women’s basketball. Maybe she’d spoken out of fear, out of her own need to feel like you were in this together.

You sighed, the anger ebbing just enough for empathy to creep in. But the question remained: Could you find a way forward that didn’t require you to lose yourself in the process?

Paige sat in her car in the dimly lit parking lot, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t drive away immediately; instead, she stared out at the rain-speckled windshield, the sound of droplets tapping against the glass a muted backdrop to the storm raging in her mind.

The hurt in your eyes haunted her. She’d never meant to make you feel small or unimportant, but as she replayed the conversation, she could hear the weight of her own words, how dismissive they’d sounded.

It’s not like it’s… a real job.

She winced, shame curling in her chest. How could she have said that? She knew how much your podcast meant to you, how hard you’d worked to build something meaningful. She’d seen the late nights, the endless brainstorming sessions, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about an episode that resonated with your listeners. And yet, she’d brushed it aside in her thoughtless attempt to simplify things.

Paige leaned back in her seat, running a hand through her hair. She’d been so focused on her own fears—on how overwhelming it felt to face the unknown of the draft, to think about moving across the country and starting a new chapter—that she hadn’t stopped to consider yours.

She’d assumed that love meant you’d follow her anywhere, but wasn’t love also about meeting in the middle? About supporting each other’s dreams instead of asking one person to give up everything?

Her chest tightened. Paige hated feeling like she’d failed you, but even more than that, she hated the idea of losing you. 

With a deep breath, she started the car, her determination settling in. If there was one thing she’d learned from basketball, it was that you don’t quit just because you’re down. You regroup. You adapt. And you fight for what matters most.

**********

The soft knock at your apartment door startled you the next morning, pulling you from the haze of your thoughts. You hadn’t been expecting anyone, and after the emotionally charged night you’d had, the last thing you wanted was company. Still, the persistent sound echoed again, gentle but insistent. Reluctantly, you pushed off the couch, your legs feeling heavy as you made your way to the door.

Your heart tightened as you peered through the peephole.

It was Paige.

She stood there on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and lavender—your favorite flowers. The vibrant yellows and soft purples stood out against the overcast sky behind her. Her hoodie was pulled low over her head, the sleeves hanging slightly past her hands. She looked smaller than usual, her shoulders slouched, her confident posture replaced by something hesitant and unsure. It was a look you rarely saw on her.

For a moment, you considered not opening the door. The wound from last night’s argument still felt raw, the hurt words she’d thrown at you circling endlessly in your mind. But as your eyes flicked back to her face through the peephole, you saw the flicker of vulnerability in her expression, and your resolve faltered.

Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone guarded. You didn’t move to let her in, the weight of last night still heavy between you.

Paige shifted on her feet, her grip tightening around the stems of the bouquet. “I… I know I should’ve called first,” she said, her words rushed and uncertain, “but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. Still, I needed to see you.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The pain of her dismissive words still lingered, but the sincerity in her voice made it hard to shut her out. Finally, you stepped aside, motioning for her to enter.

Paige walked in cautiously, as though afraid the wrong move might shatter whatever fragile truce had allowed her inside. She held out the bouquet, her hands trembling slightly. “These are for you.”

You took them silently, your fingers brushing hers briefly before you pulled away. The familiar, calming scent of lavender wafted up as you turned to place the flowers on the counter.

When you turned back, Paige was still near the door, her hands shoved deep into her hoodie pocket. She looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that usually exuded confidence but now brimmed with uncertainty.

“I messed up,” she began, her voice unsteady. “I mean, obviously. But I just… I need you to know how sorry I am. About everything I said, about how I made you feel. It wasn’t fair to you.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Paige…”

“No, please,” she cut in, taking a tentative step forward. “Let me finish. I didn’t mean to make it sound like what you do isn’t important. I know how much your podcast means to you. I’ve seen how much passion you pour into it, how much time and effort you’ve spent building it into something real, something that matters.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she ran a hand through her hair, her frustration with herself evident. “And the fact that I made you feel like that didn’t matter? That’s on me. That’s my fault, and I hate that I hurt you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unpolished, and you felt the wall you’d built around yourself begin to crumble, piece by piece. But the sting of her earlier dismissal wasn’t something you could simply brush aside.

“I love you,” Paige continued, her voice thick with emotion. “And I want to build a life with you. But that doesn’t mean I get to decide what that life looks like all on my own. I get that now.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you processed her words.

“Paige,” you said softly, your tone no longer harsh but still firm, “I love you too. But I need you to understand something. I can’t—won’t—give up everything I’ve worked for. My career, my independence, my identity… they’re not things I’m willing to sacrifice. Not even for you.”

Her lips parted as if to respond, but she stopped herself, nodding instead.

“I know,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to give up anything that makes you… you. But I also don’t want to lose you. I need to figure out how to support you without asking you to give up everything for me.”

Your expression softened as you saw the vulnerability etched into her features. Slowly, you stepped closer, your arms dropping to your sides.

“This can’t be about one of us making all the sacrifices,” you said gently. “It has to be about meeting in the middle. Compromising. Finding a way to make this work for both of us.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with a mixture of relief and hope. She reached out hesitantly, her hands brushing against yours. “So… what does that look like? For us?”

You squeezed her hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “For now? It means long distance. You go wherever the draft takes you, and I stay here to keep building what I’ve started. We’ll visit each other, and we’ll figure it out as we go. When the time is right, we’ll decide what’s next—together.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Together,” she echoed, her voice soft but resolute.

You nodded, a flicker of hope warming your chest. “Together.”

She stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like both an apology and a promise. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, as if to hold you closer than the distance you’d both soon face. For the first time since the argument, you felt a glimmer of reassurance. It wouldn’t be easy, but you could make it through this—together.

**********

The morning sun had barely begun its slow crawl across the sky when a soft, rhythmic knock echoed through your apartment. You weren’t surprised—you’d been awake for a while, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to push away the heaviness pressing against your chest. Today was the last full day before Paige left for Dallas, before everything changed.

Taking a steadying breath, you padded toward the door, your heart clenching at the sight of her standing there.

Paige looked like herself, but different. Her usual effortless confidence was tinged with something softer, something quieter. She wore an old hoodie, the sleeves slightly too long, her hands tucked into them like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. But despite the bittersweet weight hanging between you, she was smiling—her familiar, lopsided grin that never failed to make your heart stutter.

"Ready for our adventure?" she asked, her voice light, but her eyes—those bright blue eyes—held something deeper. Nostalgia, maybe. Or that quiet sadness neither of you had dared to name.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, willing yourself to match her energy. Today wasn’t about being sad. It was about holding on to everything you had built together before distance tested it.

You returned her smile, though it felt a little fragile at the edges. “Depends. Where are we going first?”

Paige’s smirk deepened as she lifted her car keys and jingled them between her fingers. “You’ll see.”

There was a spark of mischief in her voice, a glimmer of excitement that made it easier to ignore the ache in your chest.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head as you grabbed your jacket. “You know I hate surprises.”

Paige’s grin widened. “That’s what makes them fun.”

Stepping outside, you locked the door behind you, inhaling the crisp morning air. The world was still quiet, still untouched by the day ahead, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. Like time hadn’t already started pulling you in different directions.

Paige opened the passenger door for you, her hand brushing lightly against your back as you slid inside. That simple touch, so casual yet so familiar, sent warmth through your skin—a reminder of how easy it had always been between you.

As she rounded the front of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at you, her smirk softening. “You ready?”

You weren’t sure if she was asking about the day ahead or everything that would follow.

Either way, you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

And with that, she started the engine, the hum of the car filling the quiet morning as you set off on a day you both knew you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

The tiny coffee shop on the corner looked exactly the same as it had the first time you’d stepped inside together—warm, cozy, and filled with the rich aroma of espresso and freshly baked pastries. The soft hum of chatter mixed with the whir of the espresso machine, creating the same comforting soundtrack that had played in the background of that first morning. It felt like stepping back in time, like you could almost see the ghosts of your past selves sitting in the very booth you were about to claim.

Paige walked ahead of you, slipping into your usual spot by the window with the kind of familiarity that made your heart ache. You followed, setting your drink down as you slid into the seat across from her.

She looked around with a small, nostalgic smile, her fingers drumming lightly against the table. “Remember the first time we came here?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with amusement.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah. And we both swore it wasn’t a date.”

Paige smirked, leaning back against the worn leather seat. “Even though we sat here for three hours, split a muffin, and made fun of all the couples with their matching lattes?”

You grinned, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “And then you got jealous when the barista flirted with me.”

Paige scoffed, but you caught the way her eyes flickered, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “I was not jealous.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then why did you glare at him so hard he messed up my order?”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous.”

You laughed, tilting your head as you studied her. The way her fingers curled around her cup, the way the early morning light caught the golden strands in her hair, the way her expression softened in a way that was reserved just for you. It was so painfully familiar—so entirely Paige—and yet, there was something different about this moment. A weight in the air, a quiet understanding that this was more than just a casual coffee shop visit.

You exhaled slowly, running a thumb along the edge of your cup. “It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then.”

Paige’s smile faltered for just a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. But then, she reached for your hand across the table, lacing her fingers through yours with the same ease as she always had.

“Yeah,” she murmured, squeezing gently. “But some things never do.”

And sitting there, in the place where it all started, you hoped she was right.

The sun had started its slow descent toward the horizon by the time you left the coffee shop, the golden light stretching long shadows across the pavement. The drive to the beach was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Paige kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting absentmindedly on your thigh, tracing slow, comforting circles with her thumb.

When she pulled into the small, familiar lot near the dunes, neither of you moved right away. You just sat there, taking in the view—the way the sky bled into soft hues of pink and orange, the waves rolling gently against the shore, the familiar stretch of sand where so many memories lived.

“This feels like a movie,” Paige mused, breaking the silence. “The last full day before I leave. Revisiting all our milestones like some kind of emotional montage.”

You let out a small laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Yeah, well, if this were a movie, I’d like to think we’d get a happy ending.”

Paige turned to you then, something unreadable flickering behind her blue eyes. “We will,” she said, like it wasn’t even a question. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

The cool ocean breeze wrapped around you as you walked along the shoreline, your bare feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. Paige’s fingers were laced with yours, her grip warm and steady despite the coolness in the air. The rhythmic crash of the waves filled the space between you, an unspoken reminder of just how much had happened here.

“This is where we said it for the first time,” you murmured, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Paige let out a soft hum of agreement, a smile playing at her lips. “You were so nervous.”

You shot her a look. “I was not.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “You were fidgeting the whole time. Kept staring at the water like it had all the answers.”

You sighed dramatically, nudging her side. “Fine. Maybe I was a little nervous.”

Paige stopped walking then, gently pulling you to a stop with her. The way she turned to face you felt significant, like she was grounding herself in this moment—like she needed you to know she was here, fully present, despite everything changing around you.

“For the record,” she said, her voice softer now, “I was too.”

You blinked at her in surprise, tilting your head. “Paige Bueckers, nervous?”

She let out a small laugh, bumping your shoulder. “Shocking, right?” Then, more seriously, she added, “But only because I knew what I felt for you was real. And I was scared it would be too much, too soon.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at the quiet vulnerability in her voice. You reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your fingertips linger against her cheek.

“It was never too much,” you murmured.

Paige’s lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something more, but instead, she closed the distance between you, pressing a lingering kiss against your lips. The sound of the waves crashing behind you faded into the background as you melted into the moment, into her.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words carrying the weight of every memory tied to this place.

You smiled, your hands slipping around her waist, holding her close. “I love you too.”

And as the ocean stretched endlessly before you, it didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a promise.

By the time you left the beach, the sky had fully darkened, the last traces of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. The drive back into the city was quiet, but not in a heavy way—just comfortable. Paige kept one hand resting lightly on your knee, her thumb tracing absentminded patterns against your skin, like she was trying to memorize you through touch alone.

The restaurant came into view, its warm glow spilling out onto the sidewalk, a beacon of familiarity. It looked exactly the same as it had that first night—when nerves had danced in your stomach, when you and Paige had tiptoed around the fact that this was a date, no matter how casually you had framed it beforehand.

She put the car in park, then turned to you with a small, knowing smile. “Last stop.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “Crazy how much has happened since the first time we walked in here together.”

Paige grinned, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Back when you still pretended you weren’t into me?”

You rolled your eyes, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I was trying to play it cool.”

Paige let out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, before hopping out of the car. She jogged around to your side, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “Well, lucky for me, I saw right through that.”

Inside, the restaurant was exactly as you remembered it—the dim lighting casting everything in a golden hue, the hum of conversations weaving together, the faint scent of garlic and wine lingering in the air. The same elderly couple sat in their usual corner booth, the same soft jazz played from the overhead speakers. It was as if time had folded in on itself, bringing you right back to where it all began.

The host at the podium looked up, recognition sparking in his eyes as he greeted you with a knowing smile. “Welcome back. Your usual table?”

You exchanged a glance with Paige before nodding.

As you settled into your seats, memories of that first date washed over you—the way your hands had hovered awkwardly over the menu, the way Paige had reached across the table to grab your hand, steady and sure, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Now, she looked at you with that same unwavering warmth, but this time, there were no uncertainties between you.

“This feels like déjà vu,” she murmured, her thumb brushing idly over the back of your hand.

You smiled, squeezing her fingers. “Except this time, we know exactly what we are to each other.”

Paige’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she reached into her jacket pocket. “I, uh… I got you something.”

Your brows lifted slightly as she slid a small velvet box across the table. The sight of it made your heart stutter, your breath hitching as you carefully lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled against the dark fabric, was a delicate silver necklace—a tiny basketball charm resting at the center, catching the dim light just right.

Paige rubbed the back of her neck, looking almost nervous now. “I know long distance is gonna be hard,” she admitted, her voice quieter than before. “But I wanted you to have something to remind you that no matter where I am, I’m always yours.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the necklace, the weight of her words settling in your chest.

“Paige…” you whispered, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

She gave you a sheepish smile, her thumb tapping restlessly against the table. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I love it.”

Relief flickered across her face before she reached for your hand again, her grip warm and reassuring. “We’re gonna make this work,” she said firmly, like she was making a promise. “No matter what.”

You exhaled, letting her words anchor you, letting yourself believe in them. “Yeah,” you said, nodding. “We will.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and quiet glances and fingers laced together across the table, you realized something—this wasn’t an ending.

It was just another beginning.

The night stretched on longer than either of you expected—not because time slowed, but because neither of you wanted it to end.

After dinner, Paige insisted on driving aimlessly around the city, her hand never leaving yours as she took you down streets filled with memories. The campus gym parking lot, where she’d first pulled you into a kiss after one of her late-night practices. The tiny ice cream shop where she’d tried (and failed) to impress you with her terrible toppings combination. The overlook just outside of town, where you’d once parked and sat on the hood of her car, talking about the future like it was something distant, not something arriving at your doorstep in just a few hours.

By the time you ended up back at your apartment, the sky was already starting to shift from deep blue to soft hues of pink and gold. Neither of you had slept, but exhaustion wasn’t something either of you acknowledged. You spent those last quiet hours curled up together on your couch, Paige’s head resting against your shoulder as she traced lazy circles over the back of your hand with her thumb.

When the alarm on her phone finally went off—its sharp sound slicing through the stillness—Paige let out a long sigh, pressing her face into your neck. “I changed my mind,” she mumbled. “I’m staying.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. “And what, ditch the WNBA for me?”

She peeked up at you, smirking. “I mean, you’re a pretty compelling reason.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Nice try, Bueckers.”

Still, when she finally stood to grab her bag, you saw the way her expression shifted—the weight of reality settling over both of you.

The drive to the airport was quiet, Paige’s fingers intertwined with yours on the center console. Every now and then, she’d give your hand a squeeze, as if reminding herself that you were still there.

And then, too soon, you were standing inside the terminal.

The airport was a whirlwind of movement—travelers rushing to their gates, the hum of announcements over the PA system, and the low murmur of conversations all blending into a chaotic symphony. But for you and Paige, time seemed to slow.

You stood together near the security checkpoint, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. Paige’s carry-on bag was slung over her shoulder, and she kept fidgeting with the strap, her usual confidence replaced by a nervous energy.

“This feels… surreal,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah, it does.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled by everything left unsaid. Then, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small box, holding it out to her with a soft smile.

Paige frowned slightly, taking it. “What’s this?”

“Just something to remind you of home.”

She opened the box carefully, her eyes widening as she pulled out a sleek, black leather journal. Her fingers ran over the cover, tracing the embossed initials P.B. in the corner.

Flipping it open, she found the first page already filled in—your handwriting neat and familiar.

“For every new chapter of your life, and every thought you can’t put into words. No matter where you go, I’m always listening. Love, Y/N.”

Paige blinked a few times, her thumb grazing over the words as she let out a soft chuckle. “You’re really making sure I don’t forget to call, huh?”

You smirked. “I figured if you ever run out of things to say to me, you can write them down instead.”

She exhaled a small laugh, shaking her head. “I love it,” she murmured, holding the journal to her chest before meeting your gaze again. “I love you.”

Your heart clenched, but you kept your smile steady. “I love you too.”

Paige laughed softly, but you saw the way her eyes glossed over. “I’ll use it every day.”

Reaching into her bag, Paige pulled out something of her own and handed it to you. It was one of her jerseys, neatly folded. You unfolded it, your breath catching when a piece of paper slipped out from inside.

Curious, you opened the note, Paige’s handwriting filling the page.

“Y/N,This jersey is just a piece of fabric, but it’s part of me—just like you are. Wherever I go, whatever I do, you’ll always be my home. I love you, more than words can say.Paige”

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, your throat tightening. “Paige…”

She stepped closer, cupping your cheek with her hand. “I mean it,” she whispered. “No matter how far I go, I’m yours. Always.”

You leaned into her touch, swallowing back the overwhelming emotions pressing against your ribs. “I’ll be at every game,” you promised, voice thick. “Front row, screaming my lungs out.”

Paige chuckled, brushing her thumb against your cheek. “Oh, I know. You’re gonna be my biggest distraction.”

You smirked through the ache in your chest. “That’s the plan.”

The final boarding call for her flight crackled through the speakers, and Paige sighed, glancing toward the gate.

“I guess this is it,” she murmured.

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “For now.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you like she never wanted to let go. “I’ll call you as soon as I land,” she whispered.

“You better,” you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

As she finally pulled back, her hand lingered in yours, and you felt the absence the moment her fingers slipped away.

You watched her walk toward the gate, her bracelets catching the light as she waved one last time before disappearing into the crowd.

And though your heart ached with the weight of goodbye, you held her jersey close, knowing this wasn’t the end—just the start of a new chapter.

[bestlilithian]

Home is the first grave.

[ Moon-Pluto, Pluto in 4th house culture ]

tw for various mentions of abuse and death as well as mental problems, sh and su!cide, also needles (dont ask)

- may have experienced a lot of death in thr family or in the close neighborhood

- feel more connected to your dead relatives than your alive ones

- there mightve been a death in your family before you were born

- feeling peacful in graveyards

- may have fantasized about death/su!cide, might percieve death as something that brings peace (hence the fantasies, because really all you ever wanted was peace)

- wanting peace but knowing you cannot have it because of your nature; feeling like theres just something in your blood in your soul that is uncontrollable and overwhelming

- your household was always a house , never a home

- being raised by very old people, enjoying the presence of much older wiser people (like, literal elders not hot teachers 💀)

- enduring literal psychological warfare in your home (usual your mother waged war on you as soon as you were old enough to form a coherent critical thought)

- "I hate you, dont leave me" (might be the attitude of your mother towards you, or yours towards others you love)

- Your mother always knew when you were lying or hiding something. Especially if she had a scorpio moon or moon/pluto aspects herself. You grew up extremely fearful of her.

- moon pluto culture is hearing your mother talk lovingly about her own fucked up mother, she never accepted the severity of her own abuse, until of course she needs to use it in an argument against you "Im a great mother, my mother was so much worse"(basically Im good because I abuse you differently than I was abused 😍 same shit different package)

- not liking motherly women or women who try to be mother figures to you, feeling uncomofortable around them; youre uncomfortable with how much you crave motherly love and people who can provide you that become threats because of the power they could have over you if you opened up

- being betrayed by the women in your life, especially those who were much older and supposed to take care of you (teachers, tutors, family members, therapists, babysitters..)

- toxic female friends 😁🔫 bonus : really close but toxic female friendships in youth that feel like death when you end them even though you know it was necessary

- feeling pain so deeply you think you will drop dead or have a heart attack. (When I was little and depressed I wrote in a diary of mine "My body will kill me before I get to")

more on this : when you start crying because of immense emotional pain and suddenly your heart is burning and beating too fast and youre getting light headed and throwing up , and suddenly youre not crying because of the pain, youre crying because youre afraid youre about to have a heart attack and die

- fearing that your mother will k word herself or you if you try to leave her (harsh aspects mostly)

- learning what emotional violence is very early, how to wield it and defend against it

- turning your emotions off completely for a while and then having a nervous breakdown when it all rushes back

- reading up on psychology, psychiatry and works of psychotherapists so you can heal and never become your mother

- wanting to put a bullet in your head when you notice yourself thinking or behaving like your mother

- going home after you spent time somewhere where you felt good and safe is extremely dreadful

- your mother doesnt see you as a human being (harsh aspects especially), and may take you a while to figure this out

- extremely controlling behavior from your mother or other caretakers (for example my mother threatened to send people to stalk me when I moved to a diff city, to 'make sure Im not doing something bad')

- deeply grieving the loss of your childhood and your inner child

- almost choking while crying or passing out

- feeling like youre a horrible person and dont deserve your family [because youre in deep denial and are seeing the flaws of your family as your own and denying your own trauma]

- learning about sex early on, perhaps early sexual obsession but not like promiscuity more like craving for deep intimacy (also you were probably deeply ashamed of it)

- not telling your family (esp mother) anything because they will ruin it for you

- being accused of being a psychopath, uncaring, selfish for "not loving your family enough"

- not knowing how to feel about the members of your family that played a more passive role in your life because they didnt do anything wrong but they didnt do anything right either; surely they knew , why didnt they stop it? why didnt they save you? (Im talking about adults obviously)

- your parents mightve been much older when you were born, you might have siblings much older than you

- doing anything to avoid your intense emotions and then when you break down and feel everything you realize how freeing it is and how comfortable you actually are with the intensity

- gutteral reactions to songs you deeply relate to (I hear 10 seconds of 'Slipping through my fingers' and I am dead on the floor)

- being afraid of your mother or just of your family in general

- you could probably kill someone with your bare hands if you were angry and hurt enough

- scary as fuck when you actually show your anger

- if you cry in the midst of a fight (verbal or physical) ... someone tell that person to make peace w God . cause thats you crying because of what youre about to do, because thats you loosing the last crumb of humanity you had for them and that can only end one way.

- you would probably kill for your loved ones

- your friends feel like you would help them hide a body (and you probably would)

- recognizing people by footsteps and breathing patterns (especially family members)

- deep deep eyes, people can see war and death them, and they feel like you see their pain too (because you do)

- reading people easily

- enjoying? cruelty (to yourself or others), like getting impulses to do something that would cause you or someone else that ugly feeling of facing cruelty

- finding comfort in the cold and the dark

- insane nightmares since youth, growing to be used to them

- its very hard to shock you

- you know when someones lying

- you might dread certain types of pain yet feel pleasure from them (personally I hate having my blood taken for a test but then I end up immensely enjoying the feeling of a needle pricking my skin and going deep into my vein)

- feeling the need to "kill" some your habits; most likely to drop things cold turkey and be extremely strict in breaking bad habits

- might enjoy really dark, emotionally and morally complex media

- immediately recognizing other moon pluto people and trauma bonding

- extremely good pain endurance. not necessarily tolerance , but endurance. you feel the pain and do it anyway.

- might not react to physical pain at all from a young age

- fantasies about drowning or slipping away peacfully

- either loving deep waters or hating them

- randomly breaking down in the middle of the day because of some pain you buried 5 years ago

- might self harm a lot because of your complex relationship w pain, it genuinely helps sometimes

- home feels like literal prison

- seeing the value in suffering, you might reject the idea that suffering is bad and should be avoided and prevented at all costs

- you might become religious as you mature (but usually in your own way, not necessarily according to tradition)

- forced to eat or denied food in your home, this mightve fucked up your relationship with food

And lastly, I need you to engrave this in yourself :

Wrong love is not love.

[hiraethminds]

This is a tangent, I'm here to entertain with needless rambling

The deep rooted hatred for taco I see in the II community genuinely concerns me. Especially since those people tend to be Mephone "apologists"(For lack of a better word, I love Mephone don't get me wrong) despite how taco is the "active" side of the coin to his "passive". The connections between them are there trust me Im connecting the dots. Ive connected them.

I understand that she's done bad things, but blaming her for her shortcomings when she doesn't and never had the same support group to change as Mephone did makes me a little ehh.. Getting upset because Microphone showed her support in the new episodes simply because you don't like the ship(I understand why people wouldnt but thats not an excuse to deny her anything), and because Taco doesn't know how to change yet and you refuse to see her as anything redeemable. I'm not big on shipping, thats not the point of this tangent, but Taco finally having someone to support her and help her change is a GOOD thing. Microphone was being the bigger person there, she was being mature and thoughtful because Taco clearly needs the help. The fact that people continue to deny Taco any kind of growth even if she goes about it in the wrong way makes me deeply uncomfortable. Because the moment any character does anything bad that isn't HER they don't say anything about it. She was shunned by her peers because she was playing the game and continued to 'play the game' so to speak.

Theres a deep rooted hint of misogyny in the way they treat her, but I wont yap about that you dont need to read allat.

I understand people have reasons for not liking characters! That's ok. But I've seen them actively go out of their way to harass people that DO like Taco and actively criticize enjoying her character.

They tend to take it as defending her actions. Which is not what's happening. I don't think oscommunity could handle vriska is all I'm saying.

Feel free to not answer this I just need whatever little imp is telling me to scream about it to get out. go draw a taco dis is driving me crazy

Thank you for dumping this in my inbox bigbarf200, I feel like a wise confidant.

okay so I don't interact/observe with the wider ii community (Mainly cuz i like playing with my touys without being bothered) So this information is so Interesting to me!!!

As you mentioned, the hate might stem from misogyny (and by the way, I’d love to read your essay—talk all you want, my friend!). This is a societal issue that affects every part of life.

That said, I also think some people might dislike her simply because she’s a hustler and stubborn. When she has a goal, she’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, even if it means crossing into morally gray areas.

holding Mepad hostage > hijacking the show

lying and deceiving objects with good intentions > winning s1

seriously hurting Fan > winning Mic immunity

as you said in the greater scheme of things, she's genuinely done horrible things. But if you just accept that at face value you are missing out on such an amazing character. You have to consider her perspective and the circumstances of her birth (especially in a story like ii!!) to fully understand and come to an option on her. But I digress this is baby level analysis so ill move on.

people who think Mic being friendly towards Taco post e14 is out of character are misunderstanding Microphone as both a character and thematic device I think

that's literally the only rational reason I could think of as to why people would be mad about taco and mic being on good terms???

so yeah, these haters just sound like crazy irrational people who have a lot of pent-up emotions. crazy

anyways ty!!! I feel like I didn't have alot to add since, as stated, these people are just incredibly irrational. but its nice getting an earful of whagh the fuck the community is like. here are soem taco drawings for the occasion

[crushedsweets]

what do you think natalie and jack interacting would be like or. if they do at all or

jacks the only one taller than nat. ok i have words now

nat and jack met through toby, shortly after she was finally 'released' from the operator.

really it would just be nat and toby talking in jacks cabin, while jack listens. they never spent time alone together UNTIL toby and nat got into this massive argument and went weeks without speaking. this put nat on edge when she was at the barn that jeff usually crashed at, and she ended up also getting into a huge fight with jeff. so now she couldnt crash at tobys or the barn(when jeff was around) because she would get too angry.

so she went to the next place she deemed safe, jacks cabin. he accepted because he felt bad.

it was a really awkward night, but when she woke up jack awkwardly offered to make her breakfast because that's always how he was with his little siblings. she was kinda surprised, asked about it, and he awkwardly told her about how he used to cook a lot. she said smth about 'kinda ironic you dont eat this stuff then' and he just laughed. etc etc and they finally start actually talking.

natalies lack of filter and jack just accepting whatever the hell people say oddly works out...

she stays another night, she cleans up around the place because like. he sort of has like... echolocation and thermographic vision, so he gets around real easy and knows when there's stuff on the floor, but doesnt really see dust and dirt and whatever. he never even realized his place was kinda dirty and gets hella embarrassed and is like 'why the hell didnt anyone say anything' . he cleans a lot more thoroughly now. he gets so upset whenever he remembers all the times toby was there and said nothing LOL

theyre just.... so relaxed around eachother idk how to explain it. jacks always been pretty calm, and only got more quiet/distant after the sacrifice. natalie isnt super chatty but she keeps a decent conversation and he's oddly appreciative of her bluntness.

eventually they start talking about stuff they like. she shares that shes always liked stories, mentioned how toby tried reading to her bc she has pretty bad dyslexia but they thought it was cringe so she started listening to audio books, and jack was like holy crap. WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF AUDIO BOOKS. because hes always been a bookworm but cant read anymore on account of... well....

they listen to audiobooks together while doing their own thing. she'll be painting or something and he'll be cooking and it's overall pretty nice.

inevitably she ends up going back to the barn and her and toby reconcile, plus she doesnt really wanna live at jacks cabin cuz she sleeps on the couch and doesnt like to intrude more than she already has. but jack tells her she's always welcome

they never connect on a like, deep emotional level where they share trauma or something, but overall theyre just really good company

[ariestrxsh]

im a minor but i wanted to share this with someone.

i genuinely am so scared for myself i have major depression and my parents dont care. i physically cannot take care of myself and when i tell my parents that. they say im only lazy. i tell my psychologist and my therapist but my mom always makes me the bad person i just want the best for myself thats why i always share my stuff with them. on june of last year i attempted suicide and when my mom found out she said it should've been her trying to die cause no one does anything around the house. i cried because no one acknowledges my suffering. i self harm and my mom and dad say its stupid but dont do anything to help me at all. i just want to die so bad and they dont care what i go through.

Hi. :) That's really heavy. That's a lot to deal with as a kid. You know, I had a similar experience as a teen. I was very heavily into self-harm, and I had a lot of suicidal ideations. It was hard for me to get out of bed somedays. My parents thought I was lazy and whenever we had family therapy sessions, my mom was always the victim and no one was in as much emotional turmoil as she was. So I understand a lot about what you're going through.

Adults forget what it feels like to be a teenager. Childhood was so vibrant and lifelike, and now that you've been here for a while, the world has lost its color a bit, and you have a lot of the responsibility of being an adult without the freedoms. It's just fucking hard. When your parents forget what it feels like to be a teenager, it causes a rift in understanding where everything you do just appears to be 'lazy.' That has nothing to do with you, and it has everything to do with their own beliefs about their ability to parent and their own relationship with their inner child. I know that it's hard, but try not to take your parents words and actions towards you personally. It isn't about you! Even if they think it is.

I know that this is a lot easier said than done, but I want you to try out a little experiment when you feel like the really big emotions are taking over. Try taking a step back from yourself and watch the emotion play out, almost like the emotion that's happening is a cloud slowly passing by overhead and you're laying in the grass watching it. Name the emotion when it happens. Is it anger? Is it sadness? Give it a name and listen to what it has to say to you. When you separate yourself from the emotion and the thoughts and beliefs that come with the emotion, notice the stillness in its place, that part of you deep down inside that can't be shaken, bothered, or swayed. Some call it your consciousness, some call it your soul or spirit, it's like a wise, quiet stillness that exists within you, and the more time you spend with that part of yourself, I think the more you will feel at peace and the more you'll be able to separate yourself from other people's bullshit, and you won't have to absorb it so much.

I know this was kind of all over the place, but the moral of the story is, is that in the same way you are stuck in a pattern of depression and self-harm, your parents are stuck in their own pattern, and it has nothing to do with you. You can't change the way other people relate to the world around them, but you can change the way you relate to the things others say about you or think of you if you find the right tools.

As for the self-harm, you'll quit when you're ready to. No one can make you. And once you find better ways to cope with everything, you'll find healthier vices. The world is a better place with you in it. And the next time you feel like it's not, take a few deep breaths and connect to that part of you that doesn't think, doesn't feel, doesn't dwell, and just exists.

💖

[kaeyapilled]

trying to put my (mostly) child kaeya headcanons in one spot. brace yourself this is gonna be so long

first i think he was around 8 years old when he was left in mondstadt.

before that he lived with his father always moving from place to place. or maybe... i dont know honestly. they didn't live in khaenri'ah (whatever's left of it) because i like the idea that kaeya is the last hope for a place he's only heard stories about. for people he has barely met. and he yearns for it all the same, enough to run away as a stowaway on a ship just for the slim chance he'll get to meet it, to return to a place he only knows through other people's memories... yeah it's a thought i like to entertain. so anyway i dont know where exactly kaeya lived before my headcanons for this are really vague lmao. im torn between making him be raised in some corner of teyvat, or somewhere very abyss touched, or... a secret third thing i dont yet know...

i think his mother died when he was so young he has barely any recollection of her and it haunts him a bit. he cant remember what she looked like. to have an idea he can just look in a mirror though. he's her spitting image.

unsure about siblings... i think he didnt have any

i dont think his father was abusive. neglectful maybe. he was really awful at the father job but mostly because of how emotionally distant he was. he never hit kaeya or went out of his way to be cruel to him, he was just very stern. kaeya was a child who didn't really know comfort. all his basic needs were met, but his father just wasn't the type to hug or say words of encouragement, to calm him down from nightmares, to soothe a fever beyond just bitter medicine and leaving kaeya laid down on the cot alone. i think the closest they ever got to that sort of connection was when he taught kaeya their clan's history, which we know he did from canon. that piece of paper where the handwriting shows an adult guiding a child's hand on the paper makes me. Feel Things. he was not a soft man or a good father by any means but. *gestures vaguely*

and you know what. i think he loved kaeya in his own way. which is to say that he loved kaeya more as a means to an end than as a son. or maybe not. maybe leaving kaeya was more difficult for him than i give him credit for. i cant really decide. either way 2/10 for effort his parenting sucked and left deep scars in this poor poor child BUT he was not a heartless asshole is what im trying to say

anyway kaeya has very bittersweet very mixed feelings about him. he left his own son all alone in an unfamiliar land for unclear reasons. placed a burden nobody should ever have to carry on the shoulders of a child. he never embraced him or told him he loved him. but at the same time we see kaeya in game trying to understand his father's motivations for abandoning him there. that maybe a happier life could have been a factor. his safety. assuming this is, like, true. i headcanon that it is. it's not the entire reason by far. but it could have been part of it. maybe that's called "wishful thinking". we'll find out one day i hope

i don't really know what to make of the entire "you're our last hope" thing. as in, what exactly does that entail. what did his father tell him. im just kinda waiting patiently for them to actually tell us what's up. i can tell you it was a ridiculous amount of pressure on kaeya though. he might have been mature for his age and forced to grow up faster than he should have but a lot of it was simply beyond his comprehension. like, that's an entire seven year old child. he shouldve been playing with toys. anyway. kaeya who has felt guilt as his standard everyday main emotion since he was little

i think kaeya's father taught him to speak, read and write in common, so kaeya could understand people pretty well when he was left in mondstadt and could read basic stuff

an extension of this headcanon: i think each region has their own language besides just common tongue, and that in general people can speak both, especially in the big cities, while in rural areas people will probably only speak the region's mother tongue. i read a mutual's headcanon like this once and it rewired my brain so i borrowed it. also common varies from place to place because there are different dialects from mixing with the nations' other languages. to make it fun!

so when kaeya gets to mondstadt he can't speak mondstadtian specifically but he can speak common and the ragnvindrs can all speak both. eventually as he stays there kaeya learns mondstadt's language and loses the accent (a very conscious effort from his part)

more on the accent: if you listen closely to him nowadays, some word or other still sounds odd, maybe too stiff, the way he rolls his tongue on certain letters- but it's very subtle

kaeya hasn't spoken his mother tongue in so long he inevitably has forgotten certain things, and he was so young when he stopped speaking it that there are things he simply never learned. i think this haunts kaeya sooo bad. he's someone who's always trying to keep little pieces of his past, of things that have a lot of emotional value for him; he's someone who values memories, in particular physical, tangible pieces of memories. and we see him do this with his roots, like adding khaenri'ahn symbols and motifs to his outfits, saving slips of paper written by his father about his family's story, etc..

so anyway the fact he's forgetting bits and pieces of his mother tongue makes him grasp desperately at whatever's still left of it in his memory. i wonder if he writes what he can om scraps of paper, or maybe an actual notebook; i wonder also if he did similar things as a child too? though it's something he'd have to keep insanely well hidden and the paranoia about someone finding it out would absolutely eat him alive

okay back to his childhood. when he's taken in by the ragnvindrs i think he's very quiet and only speaks when spoken to. he is so unfathomably scared and lonely and everything is terrifyingly unfamiliar but any genuine manifestation of fear and anxiety and homesickness is saved for the dead of night when everyone's asleep and won't see/hear him cry. he keeps to himself, acts very polite, doesn't bother anyone with asking for help or for anything beyond what he's already been offered.

diluc was very happy about having another kid his age living under the same roof and almost immediately saw him as a little brother and kaeya simply could not match the enthusiasm. they took it as him just being shy, and to an extent that was part of it, but also he simply did not want to be there at all. no matter how wonderfully kind those people were to him, kaeya missed his father and his mother and the homeland he didnt even know in person but that was his biggest responsibility. it was such an enormous change and he missed the familiarity so much it made him ill. like literally. i think he spent his first or second week with the ragnvindrs bedridden

im very fond of the hc that kaeya took ill easily as a child.

kaeya had nightmares often. i absolutely cannot see him asking for comfort in any direct way. most of the time he'd just hold his own hand through it. other times he'd slip out of bed and see there was still light coming from the study. he'd sit on an armchair next to crepus, who already knew kaeya would hardly ever speak about what was making him upset, and watch him work until he fell asleep again.

i think kaeya was a very scrawny kid who looked a bit younger than he actually was. next to diluc (who im always torn between making just seven months older than him, or a year and seven months older) he seemed even tinier. while diluc was the picture of a healthy boy, all full red cheeks and bright eyes, kaeya was too lean, eyes too tired, sometimes distant, like he's not entirely present, lost in thought. you could see a sadness in him sometimes that seemed deeper than anything a child his age should know. kaeya was quiet not just because he didn't speak a lot, but because he seemed to exist silently. if he disappeared to be alone for a while and didn't want you to find him, you would not find him.

and anyway. i like the idea of him slowly allowing himself to be louder as he becomes more comfortable with the ragnvindrs. and revealing his more sarcastic side lol. he's always been quick witted, he was just too timid at first

child kaeya who was such a weird kid. he spoke in a way that often lacked the childishness expected from someone who's yet to turn nine. said odd cryptic things with zero explanation. banned from sharing bedtime stories after scaring diluc with overly fucked up khaenri'ahn folk tales. normalest child alive. i think he bit into a crystalfly once

oh and kaeya absolutely came up with the whole "i come from a family of pirates" thing as a kid. i think he read about pirates in a book once and was completely enamored with the idea. and one side effect of being a secret agent pawn spy is the ability to spin wild tales on the spot. so anyway did he convince diluc he was toootally a pirate. yes. diluc believed him for way too long

no wonder he's so good at telling stories to kids nowadays. he's had practice

about the eyepatch: i can never settle on just one headcanon!! option one: his eye was fine as a kid and he only wore it sometimes for the pirate roleplay, then he started wearing it everyday after The Fight because diluc wounded him; option two: he always wore the eyepatch because there is something abyss/khaenri'ah related going on with his right eye (don't ask me what exactly. though im fond of the idea that it's connected to his father and it's basically what allows him to fulfill the spy role, in some nebulous way.) and during the fight diluc aimed for it on purpose; there's probably a secret third option im forgetting about. i lean more towards option one these days i think.

okay im out of headcanons for now. i bet that the moment i click post im gonna remember ten more. but its ok. i can make another post if needed. never forget that i can speak about kaeya for literal hours and that, if prompted, i will do so

[i-never-forgot]

WOO. okay. i gathered some of my thoughts for the nightshade ramble i mentioned earlier so. here goes.

imo i think theres just so much going on between eliana and dusk that it's just. Argh. the textposts you posted fit them and their situation (or what i know since i dont wanna get them wrong by accident) and theres just a lot of regret and pain seeping from both sides following what happened before TP:R and through the interaction eliana had with the guy after having met him again in her return. eliana is resentful and angry and she has absolutely every reason in the world to be because of the little heartstring tugging that dusknoir pulled, for how lowly he is to go to great lengths for her to show that he cares, he cares about what she thinks, what she has to say, just generally being someone who sought out her presence more than anything, leading her down to a path of vulnerability astray to which she will bear her heart down and hand it to him, because he was someone she could trust. but oh, for what is trust in a world where something so small and *meaningless* can be torn apart? dusknoir might've cared, he might have felt something deep down, something that made his cold heart beat, he might have felt things for eliana that would onlh halt his mission through means of emotions he had long repressed (with said emotions slowly breaking through), but where does any of that amount when the execution is far embedded into her mind? where do any of those good memories of long night library musings, feelings and sensations that were so relieving to experience, words and touches that were all pleasant to ruminate on go when she remembers how much she saw the dimensional scream where the malice was plastered in his eye, hands ready to tear out of scorn and hatred and just how much she knew what would have happened if she were to stay further, only to know she walked into the fire? she remembers how much she wanted to change because of him, because of the impact he had on her, positive or negative. and it hurts. hell, it hurts. because even so, even after everything, he still pops up ever so occasionally in her mind. the bitter taste still remains in her mouth when that happens. someone who meant so much to her yet it almost seemed like she mattered nothing to him. did he even care? did he ever? he did. still does. always will. but if she were to ever think of the idea that she can look at him again, and feel that warmth in her heart again, and maybe just feel *happy* for once, it would make her sick. and when he returns, she channels that sickness into hatred. she feels sick just from looking at him. because the idea of doing so would just hurt her again.

and dusknoir. my good, good buddy dusknoir. call it emotional constipation, call it emotional repression, call it cowardice, but that man amuses me in just how his own guilt when coming face to face with the person he'd hurt most just leaves him reduced to nothing. just letting her release all that vitriol at him, and not bothering to fight back. because how could he? his hands had long stopped becoming tools of disposition. no blood shall drip from them again and no one shall be hurt by them again. but maybe it's because he thinks its what he deserves, after all. when he was brought back from his own 'death', all he could feel is the guilt of what he had done. a connection so delicate, one so fragile and so important to him and her, and he shattered it for what is now essentially *for nothing*. he broke down the walls, and left her in the wreckage. he caressed the sun in his own two hands and all he could think of is how to snuff the light out. the light worked against him. it was against his belief. it had to be eliminated. but the light was *warm*. the light made him feel like he belonged to somewhere. a home in his own heart with her in it. she was someone, something, everything, and all he had was nothing. eliana was everything whereas he was nothing. but 'everything' could not last. regretful as he was, he knew what he had to do. maybe, at the stockade, she thought he felt nothing.. but he felt something. everything at once. take the two and *book it*, primal dialga be damned. move, coward! do something! PLEASE! voices that told him to listen to what was right, neatly pushed aside. and he paid the price for doing so. he was back, and she was everywhere. taunting him, killing him slowly. it's almost funny, isn't it? the haunter becoming the haunted, for it was his time to reap what he sowed? looking at a past that he cannot return to, only reach out and caress memories that won't mean anything to anyone? dusknoir thinks it's funny. almost. he had hurt in so many ways, and now she was returning that favor to him. had the others not intervened sooner, he mightve allowed her to finish the job. no love without sacrifice, and the call could only come from inside. but he wasn't gonna leave so easily. he was gonna have to stand there and see it in her eyes. that sadness, clouded by endless anger. she loved him. he loved her. would that still matter? maybe. maybe not. one of them will have to take the pledge and the first step, and neither of them seem keen on doing so.

tl;dr they're okay, i guess.

You are absolutely spot on with this! ALL OF THIS.

I AM S O B B I N G AT "he caressed the sun in his own two hands and all he could think of is how to snuff the light out. the light worked against him. it was against his belief. it had to be eliminated. but the light was *warm*. the light made him feel like he belonged to somewhere. a home in his own heart with her in it. she was someone, something, everything, and all he had was nothing. eliana was everything whereas he was nothing. but 'everything' could not last." LIKE WHOA. YES.

And him thinking about snatching them away and running? *chef's kiss!* He was paralyzed by his own indecision, shocked with his own lack of resolve. It was not malice that kept him stationary, watching the Sableye carry out his orders, but fear. Fear of what would happen. Fear of himself. Fear of the riot of conflicted emotions he felt.

"no love without sacrifice, and the call could only come from inside. but he wasn't gonna leave so easily. he was gonna have to stand there and see it in her eyes. that sadness, clouded by endless anger. she loved him. he loved her. would that still matter? maybe. maybe not. one of them will have to take the pledge and the first step, and neither of them seem keen on doing so." OH MY GOOOOOD. THIS. YOU ABSOLUTE MAD LAD YOU'VE BEEN THEM PINNED LIKE DARTS ON A BOARD. AAAAHAHAHHHHAHHGGHHHHH.

[ask-the-t-sanders-sides]

ARC ENDING: Logan's POV

[TW: this part features implied neglect, if this triggers you, please skip this part, its not more important than your health.]

This part connects to Cronus'. read this one first.

enjoy :] <3 (you can find all the other parts on #arcend on this blog)

"Cronus, i appreciate you attempting to contribute, but i need you to stop."

"stop what? I just want to make sure no one gets hurt again"

"but its not helping. You constantly trying to take over me is not helpful, and it will never be."

"but at least you wont have to feel the pain when i fail you if i do."

"Cronus... We- no.. I trust you to help on your own, as an individual"

"why? You know I've never done that, you know I'll mess up!"

"even if you will, I wont hate you for it! Everyone makes mistakes, even I do. Thats what makes us what we are. Mistakes are an essential part of learning and progressing. Without mistakes you will not be able to grow and evolve. If you make mistakes, those that will hate you are those you need to hate back. Its not 'bad' or 'wrong' to make mistakes, its just another way to learn."

Cronus sighs, his eyes full of tears. I hope he understands what im saying, I hope he knows I care. I dont want him to end up the way I did.

"Th-" he stutters for a few seconds, his words tripping on tears, "Thank you, Logan" he finally says as the tears run down his face, his voice trembling.

"of course. If you ever need to talk to someone, even if you're not looking for anything specific, im always here."

"do you think he hates me?"

"i dont think so, he's probably afraid of you because of your past actions. He's not the kind of side to hate someone for actions induced by fear."

"honestly i could understand if he doesn't forgive me, i was a horrible brother"

"horrible? No... you were scared. He was a lot of responsibility, you weren't ready for it. If you talk to him, and explain why you did those things, he'll surely understand your actions"

"are you sure? He's very emotional, and he overthinks things... he might take it as a joke or even an insult... I dont want us to end up as separate from each other as Creativity"

"im certain that he will understand, even if it takes him a while to show it. As much as he tries to hide it, he's the most sympathetic side here."

"if you say that.. i trust you" he wipes his tears

Never have I thought to hear these words from someone other than Remus. This... It... It hurts to hear... It hurts to hear it from someone who genuinely means it... Why does it hurt? It feels like.. like a deep paper cut, something so simple, hurts so much.

"I..." And for the first time, i find myself struggling to find the right words. We sit in silence for a few seconds before I manage to find my words, "I appreciate you saying that."

Cronus turns to face me, noticing my eyes shut tight.. im holding back tears, again. I dont know if they're positive or negative tears, but they're strong, and its terrifying.

[peekychu]

hi, ive loved your art forever, finally working up the courage to send an ask ahshdjfjf

when i was a kid i was really attached to the pokemon anime and i remember that one episode about the charmander being left all alone in the rain, and then being saved by ash and given a chance to recover, i remember projecting so hard onto it and wanting to be given that chance as well, to have someone save me like that. anyways, your art has always made me Feel Things, theres a very sentimental quality to your art and the way you design characters. i connect a lot with your sadder stuff as well. youre very good at storytelling in your work, especially that piece with ray about wanting to return to the places in your childhood but not ever experiencing them the same way. man, you hit that feeling right on the head.

anyways, where was i going with this. i struggle a lot with trying to reclaim some parts of my childhood, it took me a lot to even remember that i projected so much onto that charmander. but seeing a pikachu be so.. i dont know, happy about connecting with pokemon so much, it just, it means a lot to me. i used my imagination as escapism and id like to try and reconnect with it. i am using your art as a guide and as inspiration.. i feel like i can get close to that again.

i hope animal friends brings you joy and i will be so happy if you choose to share any of it. and im sorry about your job, ive been in that exact situation, stay strong

sincerely, one online animal beast to another <3

Oh my GOD, this ask is so touching idek where to start answering 😭😭😭 Wow, thank you!!!

Instant follow btw, ur drawings are so dynamic and sensory, and HOLY moly your anatomy skills 🤯 I’m super honored!!!

I honestly forget ppl ever see my more sad/melancholy drawings, I wasn’t expecting it to affect me so hard hearing someone mention it xD Drawing is one of the few vessels I can properly channel my emotions with, and there’s a lot more raw stuff I don’t share online. I never know if the catharsis I feel drawing the Heavier stuff translates, because I still center those drawings around silly animals xD

I’m so happy you were able to rediscover your connection with Ash’s charmander!! That episode always made me emotional too 💔 I can’t say where my lifelong fixation on Pikachu really began, but my mom told me that even before I engaged with anything pkmn related, I was just immediately enamored by seeing it at a store or on TV xD

Eventually she took me to see Pokémon 4ever in theaters, and I vaguely remember being instantly ENCHANTED by the little short movie before the actual film began. Those animated shorts of Pikachu with all its friends, no humans attached, were always this ultimate comfort fantasy for me to watch xD

As my identity and personality fluctuates, I always find it comforting being grounded in my connection to Pikachu. The episode where it refused to evolve stuck with me on a deep level too haha.

ANYWAYS UHH I can’t thank you enough for your kind words!!!! I am holding ur paw, you stay strong too!

[cadecastelis]

What is Hot and Appealing About You? Collab with @vantaesfairie !!!

Please go follow her and reblog her post as well!!!!!! We both have open paid tarot reading services and would love for you to check that out!

Pick a Card!!! This is for entertainment purposes only; please take everything with a grain of salt. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

Pile One (Beige Suit) @vantaesfairie

this is my quiet, strong, dreamers pile, isn't it? if you dress or do your makeup a certain way that is kind of dark and smoky, like the aesthetic dark feminine, that is very attractive. a word of advice: up your mentality and your personal style, doesn't have to be expensive but it has to look bountiful. your love and care for a family and a 'happy ending' makes you seem secure and stable. you might be an emotional and creative person, and that's attractive as well. your quiet allure makes people interested in you, like who is this secretive person? feels like there's always a veil on you that makes people want to discover you and know you more emotionally, that's hot.

Pile Two (Blue Ruffly Gown)@vantaesfairie

your king/queen energy is strong. your leadership qualities make you alluring to a lot of people. there's something about that masculine, assured energy that shines through. you have a natural vibe of being bountiful and happy with what you have already, which makes you feel safe and confident. you also have a new love energy, your playfulness and artistic qualities make you look even better spiritually. i think that you shine the most in social events where your personality can come through. is this the extrovert pile with a hidden cute side? there's a lot of 'party' and 'manifestation' vibes coming through. your posture and way of sitting is kind of hot too. in general i feel like the most of your physical appeal is through the way you carry yourself, and your emotional appeal is your feeling of self-assertiveness, composure, and also the lighthearted and golden retriever, cute energy when you are in love.

Pile Three (Corset)@cadecastelis

Already I know your ability to connect with others and yourself, knowing what you and others desire, is something that attracts people to you. You can stand your ground for what you believe in, but other feel deep down the other perspective. I think being able to fully embrace your own desires and other people's desires and to find a balance is something that people admire about you and something that will draw people in. When someone knows themself and what they want out of a relationship, its incredibly hot so dont forget to play that up. Your desire to connect while also prioritizing yourself is something others will like about you as well.

Pile Four (Pink Dress)@cadecastelis

Immediately I feel a strong energy from you. If you picked this pile, it is safe to bet people are attracted to your presence in general. I feel you have a very dominant and assertive personality. You are very in touch with your emotions and someone for others to rely on as well. They consider you a beaken of hope. You're very empathic and that leads you to stick up for the underdog. Im sure you've gained a lot of simps just by being kind to others and doing what you believe is right. You might come off as aggressive at times but I think that's balanced out with your inner softness. I feel air and water signs may connect to this the most. To sum this up, your personality and assertive nature draws people too you. Flaunt your independence too, people like that.

[vantaesfairie]

𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔟 : 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲

atlty’s tarot readings - dm for paid readings and prices!

this is my first ever tarot reader collab with @cadecastelis !!! go check out their blog and reblog too!

choose a picture below:

pile 1, beige suit @vantaesfairie

this is my quiet, strong, dreamers pile, isn't it? if you dress or do your makeup a certain way that is kind of dark and smoky, like the aesthetic dark feminine, that is very attractive. a word of advice: up your mentality and your personal style, doesn't have to be expensive but it has to look bountiful. your love and care for a family and a 'happy ending' makes you seem secure and stable. you might be an emotional and creative person, and that's attractive as well. your quiet allure makes people interested in you, like who is this secretive person? feels like there's always a veil on you that makes people want to discover you and know you more emotionally, that's hot (im sorry about my wording but you know what i mean). this pile is very siren-like, giving me heavy mermaid dark fairy vibes.

pile 2, blue ruffly gown @vantaesfairie

your king/queen energy is strong. your leadership qualities make you alluring to a lot of people. there's something about that masculine, assured energy that shines through. you have a natural vibe of being bountiful and happy with what you have already, which makes you feel safe and confident. you also have a new love energy, your playfulness and artistic qualities make you look even better spiritually. i think that you shine the most in social events where your personality can come through. is this the extrovert pile with a hidden cute side? there's a lot of 'party' and 'manifestation' vibes coming through. your posture and way of sitting is kind of hot too. in general i feel like the most of your physical appeal is through the way you carry yourself, and your emotional appeal is your feeling of self-assertiveness, composure, and also the lighthearted and golden retriever, cute energy when you are in love. your sunshine vibes draw people in :))

pile 3, turquoise corset @cadecastelis

7W, Hermit, 10C

Already I know your ability to connect with others and yourself, knowing what you and others desire, is something that attracts people to you. You can stand your ground for what you believe in, but other feel deep down the other perspective. I think being able to fully embrace your own desires and other people's desires and to find a balance is something that people admire about you and something that will draw people in. When someone knows themself and what they want out of a relationship, its incredibly hot so dont forget to play that up. Your desire to connect while also prioritizing yourself is something others will like about you as well.

pile 4, pink chinese traditional dress, @cadecastelis

KnC, Justice, The Star

Immediately I feel a strong energy from you. If you picked this pile, it is safe to bet people are attracted to your presence in general. I feel you have a very dominant and assertive personality. You are very in touch with your emotions and someone for others to rely on as well. They consider you a beaken of hope. You're very empathic and that leads you to stick up for the underdog. Im sure you've gained a lot of simps just by being kind to others and doing what you believe is right. You might come off as aggressive at times but I think that's balanced out with your inner softness. I feel air and water signs may connect to this the most. To sum this up, your personality and assertive nature draws people too you. Flaunt your independence too, people like that.

likes and reblogs are heavily appreciated! check out my paid readings and custom sigils if you’re interested. have a nice day! 

dont shoot the messenger.

[narrative-lover]

I've read Beastars but ended dropping it. I adore the art and worldbuilding but uhh the story kinda feel flat.

Like. At the begging it was set to be this forbidden high school romance yet i feel like the story forgot abt it?lols.

The story *doesn't* has to adhere to its initial premise, but i feel like the author got too caught in the bigger, societal philosophical conflicts that the interpersonal conflict between Lugoshi and Hal wasn't developed that well. One big reason for that is that Hal (and other students too ngl) got sidelined. Her characters development was too rushed and didn't make sense, for me it felt like suddenly at some point she fell for Lugoshi and thats it?

Which also brings to one major reason for my dropping: the story is kinda sexist. And i have no patience for sexist manga anymore.

All the femele characters are either forgotten, sidelined or/and just there to be fanservice. One thing is for a manga to be horny in general (and i respect that. Dunmeshi that has a similar premise of "hunger and lust is pretty similar" did that very well), another thing is to plastered with panty shots of female characters that for some reason all use lingerie.

And the author expect the reader be fine that Hal stopped with all her hookups for the sake of Lugoshi while Lugoshi is in this ever constant dubious situation with female characters but it's fine because they initiated it and he was powerless against them! Yes i dropped it when that bunny called 9 (?) appeared. I fr dont have patience to deal with shounen/seinen bullshit.

Anyways i really like stories with an overarching narratives, that bring philosophical questions related to that world but if that comes at the cost of development of basically every characters except the two main (male) characters then the author is doing it wrong. Interpersonal conflict isn't and shouldn't be completely separated and ignored for the sake of Conflict Against The World, those two things *are* pretty connected and should be valued more if the story has the initial premise of a forbidden romance/love.

Anyways another point of that made me tired of the manga was that whole fight of Lugoshi against the murderer and why? It was pretty stupid. The author tried to justify ysuing Lugoshi as puppet for their words ("I'm doing it to affirm my justice!" Or whatever) but no its still pretty stupid. The reason is because the author didn't do any setup before the reveal of the murderer. The author again forgot abt other characters and their interpersonal conflict, including the initial setting (the story literally starts with that murder) because they got too caught in making Lugoshi have this philosophical questions nonstop and go to other places and meet other new characters that the already pre-existing characters get forgotten.

The conflict between Lugoshi and the murderer felt flat because we didn't even knew the name of the murderer beforehand (despite them being part of the club!) And the revelation was so...sudden. I know there is lots of ways to do mysteries, but the author didn't present the culprit beforehand nor showed us the audience any clue to set up for the reveal. Honestly i feel like the author suddenly remembered abt the murder plotline, pulled something out of their ass and went along it with. And that kinda something when in general beastars present itself as this deep and thoughtful story!

Anyway the end result is that now the author have this conflict between Lugoshi and the murderer. And the author want to write a Big Fight to show us the differences between characters and all of that...! And the audience dont care. Because the author rushingly showed us the backstory of the murder without any set up to be a good reveal, and we dont care. Because the audience don't have any emotional connection with the murderer to begin with.

And because the audience dont care, because the story didn't have a proper setup, the fight is stupid because yeah it doesn't make any sense for Lugoshi not call the police. For me instead of thinking that Lugoshi didn't call the police due to his relationship with the murder and because, narratively, calling the police would ruin the plotline–I only thought that Lugoshi was having a Big Macho Moment and that made my view of him fall a little (which later got worse when he was getting dubious with other women)

Also last reason is that i got too upset that this manga was filled with queer coding that led to nothing. Tbh it kinda feel like queerbait but im not too sure to call it that. It felt frustrating nevertheless, especially considering the sexism in the manga.

[exquisitelyrandom]

hi i know one of them is kinda old but if you're okay with it i would love to do a fic of either of these tacophone comics of yours, maybe even both (with credit ofc)

https://www.tumblr.com/exquisitelyrandom/690825927273463808/draw-something-tacophone-related-and-if-you-dont

https://www.tumblr.com/exquisitelyrandom/713112801221263360/angst-because-the-sillies-are-on-my-mind-again

oh my god ofc you can w credit holy sh

YES!!!! AAUGQHZHHQ I'D LOVE FOR YOU TO!!!!! yuo have no idea how much I've been looking for reading content of them plsplspslsplspls

btw where would you be posting the story? I'd love to read it,, if you do make a fic of them, please tag me/send me a link!! ^^

going into small detail abt the ideas behind the comics below because im insane abt them vvv

they're actually very similar to each other so they may as we 🐝 connected/have the same situation lmao

first comic is leaning more on mic's. side

;After getting into the hotel, she's. absolutely miserable but keeps trying to pretend she's fine (she is not). Of course, Soap and the others notice her mood and one of them eventually get to talk to her about it. But even as she does open up, she never outs Taco. Ever. And blames it on the contest. Soap/Whoever confronted her knows it isn't true, but doesn't push further. After the talk, Mic basically just sits there and contemplates, before deciding """past is past""". Eventually, she starts thinking about the whole thing less, and she's smiling a lot more the next few days/weeks. Er. Until. That one night.

The second comic - or, in both comics - , here's Taco's side

There was actually gonna be more similar..things.. in both of the panels i put up above,, but i decided they'd look too similar to each other so Taco looks angrier in the second one

It all starts when Mic walks through the portal. Yeah. She didn't expect that. Taco's not someone to be caught off guard; her moves are calculated, and she knows the outcome of something even before it had a chance to start. She's memorized the puzzles and patterns on an object's mind, knows how to use it to her advantage - knows how to manipulate it into what she needs it to do. So why was it that she..?

She's teleported to their little spot, and her emotions are. overwhelming. At first, she feels.. sad. Distraught. Distraught that Mic left. Then, she feels.. angry. Angry at Mic for even leaving without any further word. Angry at Mic to have the AUDACITY to blame ..her. And she's angry.. at herself. Then, she's sad again. Her mind goes back to the words Microphone last spoke to her, and it stings, just as much as when she first heard them, if not more. She sits on the log -[soft thud]- oh, nevermind, she's on her knees in the soft grass, head in hands. She grips her shell tight and tries to shout, to let out the scream that's been trying to claw its way out of her throat, to get all of the overwhelming thoughts out of her head, but all she can manage is a choked sob, her throat tightening as she curled into herself.

And I'm only now realizing I'm getting WAY too carried away so fast forward everyone:

Taco thinks back on all the mistakes she's made, and back at one of her.. biggest mistakes yet. And, after a while, she decides she's done running, and she's not letting her slip from her grasp that easily. Not again. Not like him.

So, she writes, and writes, and writes, and writes. Until, after over fifty crumpled papers and about three half empty cups of - now cold - tea, she's finished. A letter to Microphone. She spilled her heart out on it, not leaving a single detail on everything she's done, opening herself up completely to the object never expected to break down years worth of built up walls. She's a little hesitant as she sends it to the hotel's mail, and then she waits.

She doesn't respond. Its not the first time. She takes a deep breath. No, she's not letting it faze her. She needs Mic to see she's being genuine. Why couldn't you be genuine from the start? When she most needed you to be?

She sends another letter, this time, directly into her room. She drops it through the little window, and she runs off before anyone notices her. A week passes. She doesn't respond again. She doesn't give up. She sends another letter, and another, and another, and another..

Two months has passed since then - has it really been that long? - And she's on the floor, miserable. The cracks have gotten worse and she can barely see with her right eye, she can barely stand, and her knees feel weak. Her head feels heavy, and her mind goes back to quiet picnics, white bowties and purples hues. And it just.. hurts. It hurts. It hurts, so much and she doesn't want it to. It hurts, and she's angry. Angry at herself for even considering to leave Microphone after they get the million. She's angry at herself for not paying attention to what may have caused the whole thing. Angry at herself slipping up the one good thing she had.

Did you ever have her?

She's angry at herself for being the reason Microphone left.

She feels lightheaded, yet her head feels heavy. And she's so, so tired.. she blacks out

The next thing she knows, she's on her way to ..hotel oj.

Uh oh

so um when I said "small detail" i may have.. lied HEJHSJQJZNNQJXN I WAS GENUINELY GOING TO JUST DESCRIBE MY IDEA FOR THE COMIC IM OSRRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY i had many things to say about tacoy

YOU DONT HAVE TO FOLLOW THROUGH W THE PLOT I'd love to see ur take on the comic!! Ignore my gay little writings hehr

[thrandilf]

i think it's really funny how i will always prefer canon to fanon if im deep into something

but my main longfic honestly reads as a fix it fic

which wasn't the intent, but now im not sure how to even phrase the intent, like i was just driving off road and having fun and the whole core was me imagining that callum was going to have purely Awful aaravos interactions in canon, so i decided to lean into their relationship and make aaravos value connection (something i associate with the star arcanum/constellations) and for the isolation to have gotten to him clearly more than it did in canon, thus he wanted to genuinely have relationships with other people

and now ive got a fic where viravos are married, sir sparklepuff is alive, clauderry are happy, everyone coined is out and alive, and callum is close to aaravos and mage fam and has had all this time with them

and its almost like i retroactively wrote a fix it fic LMAO

i dont think tdytyk would exist had i started it after season 5 or 6, it really did have to be right there after s4, and im just very happy it exists and that others have been enjoying it too

sometimes how far away from canon Gets to me a bit because i want to be a stickler for characterization and i get really self conscious, but also a fucking bit like

Callum narrowed his eyes. As a treat, he even did the Claudia nose tap at Viren. “Ohhhh… up to something secret?”

has had 100kish words behind it so it makes total sense within fic and it throws me

it isnt to say tdytyk is happy all the time/i feel i can say i go for a lot of emotional weight within it but compared to canon these guys are generally like, Okay DKSFYEGFYE

anyway i got a little emotional abt it and i like to ruminate

yay for the thing that turned out to be probably exactly what a lot of mage fam people/aaravos/callum fans in particular would want as a fix it fic that started as me throwing spaghetti and is now the biggest writing project ive ever had