#i for sure have more thoughts about These Many Episodes but like that's all i can think of for now

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts, chapter 2

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Moving in is thankfully a smooth affair, and getting to know the pack also brings surprising happiness. Now all that's left to gain is a client.

Chapter word count: 9.9k

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Warnings: a little discussion about death and ghosts, some mentions of near death experiences, some exposition, Yoongi and Namjoon are little shits that love to tease

A/N: originally I planned on ending the chapter a little further, but this is also a good place to cut it and I felt that you guys deserve a little something, so instead of this gathering metaphorical dust in my drawer, I'll be putting out the chapter like this! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays! <3 ps: the new run jin episode is fucking hilarious, i love our boys so much

When two days later Jimin and Hoseok rolled up to the hotel room I was staying in, it was more than just a little embarrassing. I’ve tried telling them that I didn’t really have anything I needed help with, but like the gentlemen they were they insisted.

So, with my single duffel bag worth of belongings in Hoseok's hand and a bag with my old rapier and gear in Jimin's, we set out through the late noon city back to their house.

Namjoon has graciously offered me to live in an empty room up in the attic, where I’d have my own little kitchenette and bathroom (to which of course Seokjin added that I’m still more than welcome to eat with them, to Yoongi’s vehement agreement. Taehyung then later added that I’m welcome to shower with them too, and got immediately kicked by at least four hyungs). I was ecstatic to have a chance to leave the dingy hotel, so I ignored them all and profusely thanked the embarrassed wolf hybrid.

I thought I’d gotten used to the weird looks people often give PI operatives, but here in the big city it was even worse. Even though hybrids weren’t anything new, we’d still get a lot of looks – some fascinated, some curious, some disgusted. And when we travelled while in gear, with big bags full of iron and shiny rapiers hanging at our waists, fear and apprehension would set in as well.

Hybrids were something strange to humans, and ghosts were an imminent danger to their lives they couldn’t even see – therefore we became the mix of everything they feared and couldn’t understand.

So standing in the tram, three hybrids carrying a bag with a rapier sticking out of it, we were quite the spectacle, and I could feel my ears pulling back with the discomfort I felt. Jimin and Hoseok looked unbothered, but I could see the tenseness in their postures.

There was some general chatter, but with the curse of heightened hybrid hearing I could hear every word clearly, as if I was a part of the conversation. And my companions were in the same boat, as I could see Jimin's brows twitch in annoyance whenever someone said something stupid.

“I sure didn’t miss all the complaining about the curfew,” mused the arctic fox the second we got off on our stop and started in the direction of the house. Me and Hoseok both hummed in agreement.

The curfew was something that was put in place already over two decades ago as a desperate hail Mary attempt to stop people from getting hurt out in the streets. It was much easier to contain hauntings when they happened somewhere inside, but out there, especially around parks and cemeteries, the apparitions still sometimes managed to slip by the protective barriers and spill out onto roads.

Back then there were many deaths in the late winter afternoons, with people rushing home from work already after sundown and getting caught up with unruly ghosts. All it took was a single touch and they never made it home.

So the government put up a flexible curfew – it moved according to the seasons – in summer it was later, usually around 8 PM, while during autumn it slowly shifted until it settled somewhere around 3-4 PM during the winter. After that regular folk weren’t allowed to walk outside alone – only operatives were.

It saved many lives, but unfortunately it couldn’t save people from the hauntings in their own homes. Winters in general were hard – ghosts were stronger, agencies were so busy they couldn’t have enough operatives and people died often. We were just beginning autumn, but the dread could already be tasted in the crisp air, even when it was sunny outside.

Just like last time, when I arrived at the house I was immediately warmly received by Seokjin and Namjoon, the two hybrids waiting for us in the brown sitting room and idly talking with the rest of the team. Or pack, maybe more accurately.

There was of course Yoongi, who still smirked at me whenever our eyes met as I willed my blush away, and Taehyung, who was technically the first person I’d ever met from Bangtan Inc. (a fact which earned me a very solemn and sincere “I’m sorry” from Seokjin). The last person in that room I haven’t met yet was a young wolf with huge sparkling eyes that would look so innocent and angelic had I not seen him send mischievous grins towards the black bear earlier.

His name was Jungkook, and he was the youngest. Well, at least before I tagged along.

With pleasantries now out of the way my things were quickly shuffled over to Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s hands, and they started a little tour of the house. Apart from the kitchen and the two sitting rooms, there was also a library and a lounge with games all at once down here on the ground floor – it was the room I heard the chatter from during my first visit. There was also a little bathroom and a storage room tucked into the space behind the staircase, but that was all.

Their rooms were all on the first floor, together with an office space that was mostly Namjoon’s. They didn’t bring me up there, but there wasn’t really why – because I soon learnt that the way to the attic wasn’t through there.

The two hybrids led me towards the same door as last time, the one leading towards the basement stairs. This time I looked around the little space and realised there was another door leading out and the stairs actually curled to lead up too.

“I’m sorry, there will be a lot of steps,” Namjoon muttered sheepishly, gesturing for me to go first. I did.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I replied, smiling at him good-naturedly to ease his worries, “I’m from the mountains, remember?” The men chuckled and we climbed silently after that.

The room was cozy – really, I would even call it a loft – it spanned the entirety of the attic, just a big open square of space. There was a worn carpet there, an old persian with layers of dust caked into it, with a similarly old looking couch and a little table. In a corner stood an old rickety iron double bed that looked like it’s seen better days, but it would do.

The kitchen was an open space, a little table just enough for two people to eat there was situated right at the edge between the living space and the kitchenette. Bathroom was most probably the little room right next to it, tucked into another corner.

“Will this be enough?” Namjoon asked and he did sound actually worried, to my astonishment, “My uncle used to live here when I was little. And the boys sometimes came here when they wanted to be alone, but I’ll tell them not to do that anymore.”

I gaped at the men, taking the space in.

“Enough? This is more than enough, Namjoon-ssi!” I exclaimed excitedly, “I would even argue that it might be too much. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay rent?” The wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head, carefully setting my bag down on the sofa.

“Of course not, Y/N,” he rumbled back, “The space is here and it just collects dust, or someone comes here to- to sulk. They sometimes come here to sulk.” From the corner of my eye I saw the hybrid blush again as Seokjin jabbed his side with his elbow, but I paid them no mind, completely enthralled by a beautiful set of a wardrobe and drawers made from massive dark wood and carved beautifully with flowering vines that was standing next to the door.

“What Namjoon’s trying to say is,” Seokjin took over with a twitchy smile, “that we’ll be glad to know someone’s properly loving the space and taking care of it.” I returned the smile and walked deeper into the room.

“I tried to deep clean it yesterday so you could sleep here, but it might not be perfect,” the bear hybrid continued, rounded ears cutely flicking around and following my movements, “but I’m sure that tomorrow we can finish it all together. Hoseok promised to help as well.” Namjoon visibly perked up at the mention of that name and turned to me from where he was zoning out.

“Oh, speaking of which,” he exclaimed and motioned for me to follow them back down, “He’s waiting for us down in the office.”

By the office he meant the space down in the basement, where Hoseok occupied one of the desks, currently sitting down with one of the chunky phones pressed to his ear and diligently jotting something into a notebook.

We politely waited for him to be done, through with all the pleasantries, and then he happily jumped up from the table, pure unfiltered joy pouring out of him as he waved the little notebook about.

“A client?” Seokjin asked, eyes wide with hope, and smiled bright when Hoseok nodded. The men all huddled around the desk, muttering to each other things I couldn’t hear properly while I awkwardly stood around and shuffled from foot to foot. Thankfully it took maybe only a minute before Namjoon realised I came in with them and he whirled around with a guilty expression, tugging the notebook out of the fox’s hands and pulling me closer to the desk.

“Actually hyung, we came here to deliver your newbie,” he said and said man grinned at me blindingly, until I almost forgot anything except for the fact that I was so damn happy to be here.

“I’ll be something of a direct superior of yours, sort of,” Hoseok explained gently, dragging me over to sit me down at his desk.

“We don’t really have any kind of hierarchy, but Hobi’s the most organised by far, so this all is his domain,” Seokjin explained, gesturing with wide arms over the basement. When I turned back to the fox I felt the awe that must have been reflected in my eyes, and the hybrid blushed, turning his head slightly to the side while Namjoon snickered somewhere behind us.

“Everybody helps, but I mostly oversee everything, just to make sure,” he explained further as he leaned his hip on the desk to be more comfortable.

“He’ll be the one telling you what needs to be done and where you could be useful. Or me. Or Jin-hyung,” Namjoon added and smiled at my expression as I tried to commit everything to memory.

“Just whatever happens, don’t listen to anything the maknaes say,” Hoseok warned and I nodded eagerly until they all giggled at me.

“Well,” Namjoon started and looked to Seokjin who immediately nodded, both of them backing away towards the stairs, “We’ll leave you to it.” I couldn’t help but notice that the little notebook containing info about their new client stayed safely tucked away in Namjoon’s hand, far away from me, and my ears and eyes.

“Right,” Hoseok’s voice tore me out of my reverie, and I turned back to him only to see him looking around the basement in contemplation, lip caught between his teeth as he pondered. Then he jumped up and started walking towards the filing cabinets.

“Come, I’ll show you the system I use for categorisation. And please, call me Hobi.”

The first two weeks I spent with my new company in the new house were quite uneventful. The client that had called was swiftly dealt with only two days later, and only Namjoon and Jimin went, leading me to believe it must have been some weak shade.

Type 1 ghosts, the weakest ones, were usually the kind that started off the season of death, as it was so colloquially called, and mostly didn’t demand much manpower. They weren’t as dangerous, well, as far as ghosts could go – it was very unusual for them to show any kind of killing intent, but even a peaceful ghost’s touch could be deadly.

That was something that was drilled into us endlessly in school – both kids with talent and without – to never get close to a ghost, never let it touch you, and run away as fast as possible and get an adult.

It was the general rule everyone except for operatives abided by – unless they wanted a slow painful death of rot and decomposition to spread through their body from the place of contact, until it pumped their veins with poison and claimed their heart. It was a gruesome death, and it was terrible to witness. Sometimes you could be saved with a couple of shots of adrenaline or a swifty amputation, but vital places – head, chest, stomach – were lethal.

And it was the number one killer of both adults and children in the world.

But the sting of secrecy of that first case was dulled by the fact that no one except for Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok cared much for it, and it was dealt with within two hours.

I spent those days with curious glances burnt into my back as I mostly silently followed Hobi around and listened to his instructions wherever we came upon something new. I helped him and Taehyung clean down in the basement, I sat next to him as he showed me how to properly fill out forms we’d need, or how to file new cases (of which none came). I even felt guilty enough for not having anything to help with to earn my keep that I insisted on helping with gathering the fallen leaves in the garden, and with flaming cheeks made Yoongi let me help him cook every evening (even though I was a disaster in the kitchen and often got reprimanding looks from the tiger hybrid).

Most of the time though we went endlessly again and again through the little storage in the basement and made sure we were fully stocked up and ready to head out for a case if needed.

It meant hours upon hours of sitting in a steadily colder and colder windowless room, wading through kilos of salt and iron fillings, checking the magnesium flares to see they were properly stored, preparing salt and iron bombs, oiling and caring for iron chains that were used for protective circles, sharpening rapiers and similar.

And as much Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook whined about Hobi forcing them to do it every two days even though we saw no business, I completely understood the red fox.

Face to face to a ghost, there weren’t many things that could save you or protect you, except for your rapier and a belt filled with these helpers. One too many operatives had died because they hadn’t checked they packed everything or that it was functional.

Magnesium flares when unused sometimes became a hazard and could burn a whole house down, salt and iron bombs sometimes crystallised shut when improperly stored. Chains when left alone rusted and stuck together. When the crucial moment came, even a second delay in a flare going off could mean sure death.

So I happily spent my time in the basement, checking the boys’ belts and bags to make absolutely sure that when they left, they would also return. And sometimes it would turn into training as well, Hobi dragging us into the neighbouring room and spending long hours laughing in the ring, watching the men fight with big smiles on their faces.

It was exactly two weeks into my quite uneventful stay when Namjoon poked his head into the green room where I was sulking by the fire. That day Hobi had no tasks for me, and I took to getting in Yoongi’s way in the kitchen, attempting to help until Jin was laughing at the exasperated tiger and I ended up being exiled into the sitting room. Jimin had briefly stopped by to snicker at me and then he was gone in a flurry of giggles, leaving me to my gloom.

I had wanted to follow him, to go with him and play with the other maknaes as Yoongi and Jin all called us, but I was being too shy to approach them outside of work responsibilities, and judging by their hesitant smiles, they were having the same problem.

So Namjoon walked in on me sullenly poking into the fire with a stick, watching the embers fly through the air and listening to the crackle of the wood, all on my lonesome.

“Hey,” he said with that gentle timbre, and I immediately perked up, “your gear just got here.” If Namjoon found funny the way I promptly jumped to my feet and ran through the house towards the basement... well I didn’t really stick around long enough to find out whether he laughed, but he sure came down behind me with a big grin on his face.

We ordered my own gear a few days back, Jin dragging me down here and measuring me with excruciating detail to make sure it fit as best as possible, and it might have been the crankiest I’ve gotten around the eldest of the pack as we continuously bickered about which size should be ordered, especially the shoes. But Jin took my attitude with grace (got sassy and told me I’m just like Jungkook, which at that moment didn’t feel much like a compliment), so all was well in the end.

“Do you want me to call Jin-hyung?” Namjoon asked, mischief written into his soft round face, and I immediately shook my head.

“I don’t think I’d survive if he’s proven right live,” I said and shuddered at the thought of his smug smirk whenever we had to admit we were in the wrong. I’d seen it around a few times during the two weeks, even once from Yoongi, which Jimin later told me was quite the feat. Apparently the stubborn tiger would rather lose his own hand than admit anything. “Let’s not tell him if it fits as well as he thought.”

Namjoon behind me snickered and pretended as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away the key, before he pulled a big cardboard box onto Hobi’s table.

“You catch up fast,” he teased with a big smile, “first rule of surviving here – Jin-hyung is scarier than anything that might be lurking outside during the night.” I scoffed at that, but didn’t dispute it, instead choosing to get to opening the box.

The uniform of an operative is quite simple really – we mostly wore combat shoes with silver tip and iron interladed soles, cargo pants made from thick cotton that didn’t tear easily and special long-sleeved t-shirts that fit like second skin and it was virtually impossible to destroy them unless you got stabbed. Then of course, seasonal additions like sweaters or jackets or gloves. But these were the basics.

The pack didn’t hesitate to spend money on me, and I had to admit that that night it brought some tears to me eyes, knowing they were counting on me to stay with them that long. It was a heart-warming moment for me, as it felt like I was truly expected to take my place in their ranks and not only serve them coffee forever (which some other agencies loved to do with younger recruits – which, I wasn’t even that young, not for an operative anyway).

So now I was pulling out three sets of each, enough to be able to comfortably swap between them during laundry, and to not have the fear that if some unfortunate accident befell my uniform, I didn’t have to fear not having anything else. I promised the man that the next batch I’d already buy from the money I earned, but he just smiled and said nothing, warm eyes fondly watching me and Jin drag Hobi into our squabble.

Now, putting them on, I felt like an investigator more than I ever had in my old torn jeans and washed out hand-me-down hoodie I’d worn up in the north.

The memories that flooded my brain brought a bit of melancholy to my heart and I thought back to my parents, or my PI friends – all the people I haven’t spoken to since I ran down here. Some that I’d never get the chance to speak to ever again.

“They fit perfectly,” I called from the small bathroom, door cracked open just enough for my voice to carry unobstructed, and I hoped Namjoon didn’t hear the tinge of sadness colouring it now, “of course they fucking do.” The last part was muttered softly under my breath, but judging from the chuckle in the other room, the wolf heard me nonetheless.

Bundling the clothes back into the box and leaving it by the desk for tomorrow’s me to deal with, we both slowly started back into the living spaces, and my palms slowly grew clammy.

“Hey Namjoon?” I said somewhat unsteadily, and watched his ears perk up before he turned to me. Perhaps sensing my nerves, the wolf gently smiled, his scent mellowing and covering me with a blanket of safe warm feelings.

“Could I maybe use the landline for personal calls?”

The hybrid looked at me confused for a moment, like he was computing that this was the only thing I truly wanted, before his expression melted into compassion.

“Y/N, of course you can,” he told me gently, “you can use anything in the house. Including the library, if you’re ever bored.” I blushed at the knowing look in his eyes, and wondered which of his hyungs told on me. Probably Yoongi, that snitch. And I thought we’d have feline hybrids solidarity. I chuckled at his words and nodded, now more embarrassed than shy.

Having his blessing, I circled back to the basement and took a seat at one of the tables where I never saw anyone else sit, leaving Namjoon to return on his own.

The old plastic phone felt familiar in my hand, as I grew up in a place where technology stayed in the 90s. Well, most of other things did as well, to be perfectly honest. The number I was calling was burned into my memory, I’d probably be able to recite it even on my death bed (though for operatives that didn’t have to mean that long).

The line crackled for a moment before a tired “hello?” rang though my ears.

“Mom,” I realised too late that my voice came out wet, the heavy knot of emotions stuck in my throat at hearing her voice again after such a long while, and there was a similarly emotional intake of breath on the other side.

“Oh, darling,” the happy voice said, suddenly all tiredness gone from it, a youthfulness sounding through that made me think back to my childhood, “how’s the city treating you?”

“Good, I found a good pa- I mean I found a good agency, I’m with them now. Working. Working with them,” I stumbled through the sentence, blushy and teary-eyed, and I swore I could hear laughter upstairs.

“Are they taking good care of you, my baby?” she asked, her voice so warm and receptive I wanted to crawl through the phone and wrap myself into it. I nodded, and then rushed to assure her when I realised she couldn’t see me.

“How’s everyone? Dad? Jiwoo? What about Daiyu? How is she?” The barrage of questions spilled out of me in one breath and on the other side I heard my mom giggle quietly.

“Dad’s dad, still the same,” she started, love and amusement dripping from her voice, “you know how he gets when autumn comes. I’ve barely even seen him, he spends all his time in the garden.” I chuckled at that, the image of my father in his old jeans that were more mending patches than the original pants, lovingly tending to his bushes and plants, preparing them for the tough season ahead, was burned into my memory from having it seen every autumn. He was a silent man, but every time he stepped out, you could see the love and gentleness shine through when he looked at “nature’s gifts”, as he put it.

“Jiwoo is also as he’s always been,” mum continued, voice sounding lighter and more joyful with every word spoken, “as stubborn as a mule, like any teenage boy. Running around the mountains with his friends, I barely even see him.”

A phone in the hall upstairs started ringing, and I could hear the beeps interrupting through the call I was currently in, so I quickly clicked the other line to keep the call running. Running footsteps thundered right above me, the excitement palpable through them, and then I could hear Hoseok’s muffled voice as he answered it.

“And Daiyu…” there my mother hesitated for a moment, unaware of my split attention, and I forced myself back into listening to her, “Well, I think she’s doing quite well, all things considered. You should give her a call too, darling, I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

I hummed, but even as I tried to come up with a response, I could feel my ear twitching with the strain of listening on the call currently happening a hall above me, but to no avail. Everything Hoseok said blended into an undecipherable buzz, all the words melting into each other.

“Y/N? Darling?”

“Yes, mum, yes, I’m here,” I squeezed out quickly, turning away from the door as if would stop me from eavesdropping, “I’ll give her a call, just… I gotta run now.” There was a bit of silence on the other side, underlined with how suddenly the house fell silent too, and then my mother hummed. But it was the kind of hum that told me she had much more to say, yet chose not to, and I sighed.

“It’s not like that..” I said quickly, trying to put stop to anything she might be thinking now, but she only hummed again, in the way mothers did when they thought they knew better than you did, and I already knew that battle was lost. With a fond sigh, I decided to just let it go.

“Look mum, I have to go, I think we just got a call from a client,” I told her, and thankfully she got the hint, and with an amused sigh she let it go as well.

“Alright then, my dear,” she said lightly, just a twinge of longing creeping into her voice, and it pierced my heart painfully enough to almost rob me of my breath.

“I’m gonna call again soon, mum,” I reassured her quickly, jumping in before she got another word out, “My- my- Employer… my employer said I could use the phones as I needed! I’ll call again soon..” I got a little stuttered up over how to call Namjoon, but if she thought it was weird, at least she didn’t see the way I lit up with a mighty blush over the slip-up I almost had; for there was another word dangerously close to slipping out, one that was very not appropriate for me to use.

And I hoped that the sound didn’t spread as easily upstairs, and I wouldn’t hear a fresh batch of teasing, now with the wolf hybrid instead of Yoongi.

“Well, I’ll hear from you soon,” her quiet voice carried over, “I love you, my darling.” I smiled to myself, probably looking like a right love-sick fool.

“I love you too, mummy,” I whispered back, “Be well.” She lingered for a moment longer, I heard her quiet breaths on the other side of the line, and then there was a quiet click of her setting the phone down, and then only continuous beeps.

I took some time to take a few deep breaths, stabilising myself a little before my first shaky steps back towards the stairs.

The hall was empty when I made it back up, but I heard excitable chatter coming from the direction of the sitting rooms, so if I had to guess, whoever was here was probably all huddled up in the green room by the fire, stealing my spot.

I ran up a little, taking quick bouncy steps, both rejuvenated by the call and excited for potentially getting to do some ghost busting.

And I sure wasn’t the only one, because when I ran into the room, it turned out that everyone was already there – the whole pack, sitting around and peeking into Hoseok’s hands, where the black notebook was clutched.

He was just in the middle of saying something when I zoomed in, but got stuttered up upon seeing me full energy like that. Yoongi was standing by his shoulder, and upon my fiery exit looked up only to smirk my way, eyes cheekily taking me in. I cursed my ears and tail for flicking up eagerly, but it felt less embarrassing when his did the same, and it wasn’t enough to make the grin slide off of my face, so I just ignored Jimin’s teasing (evil) snickers and moved into the room.

Just for a split second I worried I might have not been fully welcomed in on the discussion – Hoseok seemed to have already started talking, everybody was present except for me – but then Namjoon smiled and waved me over, vacating his spot on the couch so that I could settle myself right between Taehyung and Jungkook while he stood over us, leaning on the head rest.

“I was just about to go get you,” he said in the warm tone of his, and I relaxed into the soft pillows immediately. I looked towards the red fox, who was sitting in the armchair in front of me, eyes lit up like he just got the best news ever. He looked towards me too and smiled so brightly it was almost blinding.

“We got a client. And this one’s gonna be a doozy.”

Seokjin was nervously fluffing up the pillows for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, and I could see that I wasn’t the only one whose nerves were getting grated by that, but since the bear was so sincere and hopeful about it, none of us dared to say anything. Most of the time Kim Seokjin was a man that would put fear of God into you within seconds, but when it came to customers, he’d almost turn cute.

Not that I’d dare say that out loud to him.

“Cute,” teased Hoseok, and I immediately flushed. Seokjin turned to him with a disapproving tsk, but there was a red hue on his cheeks, and for a moment I was caught marvelling at such a rare sight. Obviously, the consensus about Seokjin’s pre-visit habits was pretty clear around here.

Like when I had my job interview, the only ones present were the three hybrids that seemed to be the most involved with running the company – Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok, with the addition of me to take notes. Though, all the others were around too, and I knew they were anxiously waiting to listen in as soon as the customer arrived.

Thankfully, the torture of watching Seokjin pace the room one more time to fluff the pillows one more time was cut short with a sound of the bell thundering through the suddenly unnaturally silent house.

I watched as the red fox jumped to his feet, ears flicking with attention towards the door as his tail nervously swung about in a manner that would soon become dangerous to stand too close to. Namjoon seemed to have petrified, standing woodenly with an awkward smile, and I would almost giggle at the sight if not for the aura of nerves engulfing everything.

Seokjin was already toying with the silver tea kettle as Hoseok tripped over himself and then over the armchair in a mad race to the front door. I had an abrupt flashback to our first meeting – to how eager he was to a point he stressed me out, and I promptly stood up into his way to try and curb his energy.

He was probably just too focused on getting to the door, that would explain why he didn’t fully notice me at first, not until I was already too close and in an attempt to stop he instead slipped on the squeaky clean wooden floors and barrelled right into me.

A moment of weightlessness was all I registered before suddenly gravity pulled hard, and before I knew it, I was sprawled over the brown room’s floor with Hoseok’s extremely red face planted right into my chest.

Everything stilled for a few extremely tense seconds before the fox was jumping off of me with a loud embarrassed scream, the sound enough to summon everyone, and I meant everyone, to run into the hall to witness me lying on my back on the floor like a beached whale while Hoseok buried his entire upper body into the armchair like an ostrich its head into the sand.

One look at the two other present hybrids told me all I had to know. Namjoon stood there with face as red as a lobster and looking absolutely horrified, while Seokjin had his hand over his mouth, though his eyes were crinkled with silent laughter.

I rather didn’t even look towards the others, instead I quickly climbed back onto my feet as a second bell rung through the house. No one said anything. Yoongi was laughing. Loudly.

“Okay,” I took charge of the situation, “Hoseok, calm down and get some shoes. Namjoon you too. Calm down, I mean.” Then I turned to the four other very entertained hybrids and narrowed my eyes. “Everybody else scram. I’m gonna open the door and when I walk into here with the client, you’ll be relaxed and professional, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned with my face still burning and stalked toward the main entrance. Though, I heard the patter of feet running quietly away and Seokjin muttering “we have to work on this part” under his breath, so it was safe to assume they took me bossing them around better than I hoped they would.

With a deep breath I steadied myself, slipping into the more customer friendly demeanour and opened the door with an amicable smile.

And older lady stood there. She very obviously came from money, everything about her screamed wealth – from her elegant black dress with lace collar, to the golden brooch with a blood red ruby that was pinned the lace, to her grey hair slicked back into a tight hairdo at the back of her head. She had quite a strict face, not necessarily unfriendly, but definitely not open, and she leaned on a black walking stick quite heavily.

There was a middle-aged man supporting her from the other side, probably her son by the age. He looked considerably more approachable, so I forced myself to relax and invited them in with a broad gesture.

“Welcome to Bangtan Inc., paranormal investigations,” I said with a cheery voice, “I apologise for the wait.” I didn’t offer them any explanation because, well frankly I didn’t have one, and I found that people rarely asked for more details for fear of looking rude.

“Good afternoon,” the man replied pleasantly, but the older woman stayed silent. She didn’t look very happy with us, but by her presumed son’s nonchalant attitude, I supposed she might have just been one of those ladies.

“Terribly good weather this afternoon,” the man continued, looking out to the sky which was a light steely grey, but the temperature was pleasant and stray rays of sunshine did make it through. I smiled at him and nodded.

“Quite, though it is supposed to get colder. After all, we are nearing the end of September.”

I offered to help with coats, but the lady let the man help her, and he seemed more than happy to help himself with his own, so I just waited for them to hand them to me so that I could hang them up. The lady seemed to be pleased with that at least, and I was glad I maybe turned around the fact that they had to wait outside for such a while.

The heels of their shoes clicked on the floor as I led them down the hallway with another broad gesture to follow me. I saw them both look around with wide eyes, taking in the old grandeur of the house. With a bit of a sinking heart I recognised open surprise in their eyes, and they were no doubt shocked that hybrids lived so well.

Momentarily I worried for what we’d have to hear from them today, but I didn’t have much time to ponder that, as we rounded the corner into the brown room and got hit with the sight of the three hybrids waiting.

Compared to the disaster I left behind me, now they looked perfectly put together and professional. Namjoon’s shoulders weren’t as stiff as before as he gave the newcomers a very enchanting smile, immediately charming the pants right off of the lady who seemed to have melted into a blushing schoolgirl upon being met with the wolf. Discreetly I thought to myself that I perfectly understood her.

Seokjin stood next to him, as handsome as ever, while Hoseok, now also considerably calmer, stepped forward with his hand outstretched, a blinding smile splitting his face almost in half.

“Welcome! My name’s Jung Hoseok, we spoke on the phone,” his voice was smooth and cheery, and as my eyes slid downwards, with relief I saw that he indeed did put on shoes.

The usual pleasantries took place, and I left them to it, only getting a little startled when Namjoon gestured towards me as I fussed in the corner about the chair I dragged over before to take notes without interrupting and said: “and that’s our assistant, Ms. Y/N.” With a slightly awkward smile I shook their hands as well, and the atmosphere relaxed a little.

Just as I was looking over the notepad just one more time to make sure everything was ready for me to write down, another call of my name startled me into paying attention to the interaction.

“Y/N will bring it right over!” Seokjin just said, and upon my confused glance, he gestured to the empty table. The tea kettle was gone, I belatedly realised, and I jumped to my feet and scurried off into the kitchen.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook were all sitting around the dining table munching on something, probably sandwiches as Yoongi made those quite often when we whined about being hungry, while the man himself stood by one of the kitchen windows smoking.

I ran in, scaring the shit out of the three eating hybrids and earning a chuckle from the tiger, while I panicked and looked around while whisper-screaming “tea!” the whole time.

“Calm down, darling, it’s here,” Yoongi walked over to the kitchen counter, the teapot sitting there and mocking me as I sulked over to the black-haired man.

“Why’s it even back here?” I asked him, now considerably less frantic as I watched him put the kettle on, his quick skilful fingers arranging new teabags and fresh biscuits on to the tray. He scoffed, but it was a fond sound. He often sounded that way when talking about Seokjin, though you’d never get him to admit it.

“You know how hyung gets,” the tiger teased, a light smirk playing on his face, “in the time it took you to walk from the door to the sitting room he managed to panic that the tea would already be tasting bad and thought it would look better if you brought over fresh one.” There were some giggles from the dining room table, but I found I didn’t want to turn away from Yoongi working in the kitchen. So, I kept my eyes glued to the man, slowly taking in how his tail started swishing around in much more playful manner than it usually did.

And I knew I was in trouble, because he’d never miss a chance to tease me, especially not in front of the maknaes. Especially not in front of Jimin, that little devil.

Yoongi poured the hot water into the decorative teapot, arranging it onto the tray for me to carry, and as he turned, he reached over to pet my hair, taking the moment to curl his fingers right behind my ear slightly, as if he was going to scratch there but changed his mind.

I flushed, terribly so might I add, and the bastard smirked. I felt my ear twitch needily, the little traitor, and I mentally scolded it.

Grabbing the tray, I ignored everyone in the room and stomped my way back to the brown room, pointedly not looking any of the three other hybrids in the face, which I knew was noticed by the way Seokjin was trying to conceal his laughter by turning away.

The clients thankfully seemed blissfully unaware, distracted by the refreshments, and I took the moment to decompress into my seat and stubbornly keep my eyes on my notes, even though I saw the way Hoseok curiously glanced my way and grinned upon seeing how red I was.

Quickly the atmosphere sobered though, as the two incomers finally settled down into their chairs, ready to share their ghost story.

“So, Mrs. Carter, you’ve mentioned a spectre in your garden, yes?” Seokjin started, trying not to sound too eager, as that usually scared normal folk away. We had to get every little detail out of them though, and that wasn’t easy. Not just because they didn’t see much, but because they generally didn’t like to talk about apparitions.

As if not mentioning them would erase the danger they posed out of existence.

“Well, yes,” the lady, Mrs. Carter, drawled out with a thick posh accent, “It is in the back of the garden, yes, been there for decades too.” The man nodded, and that was quite a shock to us.

“For decades?” Namjoon asked, absolutely flabbergasted, “have you never thought to get rid of it before?” The old woman simply nodded, clutching the walking stick in her hands, habitually drumming her fingers on the polished wood.

“I didn’t particularly care for it,” she answered again in that slightly detached way of talking that wealthy people sometimes adopted, “It’s been just me and my husband for a long time, and we knew not to go into that part of the garden, and all the staff leaves before sundown as is law.” She shrugged, and the man sighed, pinching the root of his nose.

“I’ve been telling mother for years to do something about it,” he told us, exasperated while the woman seemed cheekily unperturbed, much in the way that spoke of just how old the argument truly was, “It’s just plain dangerous and irresponsible.”

“It wasn’t doing anything to anyone,” she replied stubbornly, “but now my nieces have started visiting. Even with all the precautions, I cannot let it stay. Children never listen, especially to those things that you stress the most that they need to listen to. I need the garden to be safe for them.” She seemed to melt a little at the mention of the little girls, something warmer creeping into her gaze as she glanced at her son.

We all sat there and listened to them go back and forth quietly, taking in the details – and each of us seemed to have different questions. I was mainly amazed how she spoke of a very dangerous ghost as if it was just a tenant paying rent to use her garden, and not the accident waiting to happen it truly was.

Hoseok had other concerns, and that’s why he was the one asking the questions.

“Wasn’t doing anything to anyone?” he enquired, leaning forward to them in interest, “Would you be able to describe it a little? Or even if there are any feelings connected to the haunting? Does it have any habits?” The barrage of questions that spilled out of him clearly surprised and overwhelmed the duo, and they looked to each other for help.

“Feelings?” was all that Mrs. Carter said in the end though, looking to the fox confusedly.

“Well, like for an example, when you are in the area, do you feel a certain way?” Seokjin jumped in, sensing his packmate was likely getting a little too excited again, “Do you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? Do you feel sad?”

“Hauntings can sometimes influence our feelings,” Namjoon carried on, explaining gently to the two humans, “It can help the operatives guess the type of the spectre, or its strength and motives. If every time you walk through the part of the garden you suddenly feel unsafe, it could speak of dangerous intentions. If there only is a sudden wave of sadness, it could mean a weaker shade.”

The two visitors sat in silence for a moment, pondering over their experiences with the haunting, while we sat there and waited with bated breaths.

Getting details out of human adults was always the hardest part of these initial interviews. Children at least usually were a little more sensitive to the unknown, sometimes even seeing the apparitions clearly, but adults were mostly blind. They could only rely on the emotions that gripped them while encountering a ghost, and those were normally drowned out by fear and panic.

Not that anyone could blame them – even operatives had that instinct to turn and run, we’d be insane if we didn’t.

But given that they seemed to have been aware of this haunting for decades, there was hope a little more information would come out of them.

In the worst case scenario we could swallow our pride and ask whether she currently hired any hybrids on her staff to ask them, though hybrids not involved in the PI business hated to be associated with it. Our supernatural senses hung above our heads like curses, and some just wanted to be as far away from that as possible, yet unable to escape it fully.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t feel too friendly, but I’ve never felt in any danger,” the old lady drawled out, voice a little thin as she was lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her son seemed similarly drowned in his own musings, sitting silently beside her with a pale face and a strange look.

“Have you ever seen it?” came Seokjin’s next question and the lady snorted in good humour.

“Of course I haven’t seen it, how could I?” her answer was amused, but it still ruffled some feathers, as I saw Hoseok’s smile twitch on his face in slight annoyance. Seokjin stared at her, incredulous, though she was very oblivious to that with her face buried in her teacup. Namjoon once more chose this moment to step in and smooth the situation over before Jin’s patience ran out and he reverted to his usual steam-roller self.

“Well, yes, we aren’t expecting you to see it clearly, but humans sometimes report seeing a little,” the wolf inserted himself into the tense atmosphere, “it doesn’t have to be a full apparition, but maybe a shape, fog or even spots of darkness, anything like that can be helpful to us.”

The woman hummed, once again reverting into her memories to search for anything to tell us, but by the pinched expression on her face we could all already tell that if she ever saw it, she’s already forgotten or supressed it from her mind.

My ears fluttered as they caught the quiet sigh of disappointment let out by Hobi right before he started preparing to ask more questions that would most likely lead nowhere, as was usually the case with older humans. My eyes were still glued to Mr. Carter sitting woodenly next to his mother though, and just as Hobi opened his mouth, without thinking I jumped in.

“Mr. Carter, have you ever seen it? As a child?” The man startled at hearing his name, and the entire room’s attention was suddenly on me. I flushed for a moment sensing the other hybrid’s eyes, but I took the chance to speak even though I probably wasn’t supposed to.

Redirecting my gaze back to the wide eyes of the surprised human, I could see some cracks of guilt in his expression.

“Of course I haven’t, young miss!” he rushed out, face reddening and twisting slightly as if I gravelly insulted him, “Children have no business chasing after ghosts, and I knew that!” I chanced a glance at my employers, all of whom seemed very interested in the current conversation, no doubt sensing the opportunity as well.

Namjoon gestured for me to continue, and I breathed out in relief before turning to our guests again.

“Well, of course, I am not doubting your common sense, but as Mrs. Carter said a few moments ago, children often find these things curious. Ghosts and the supernatural, the more you discourage them, the more they want to see,” I argued softly, trying to talk him away from the edge he psyched himself onto.

In that moment even though he must have been at least fifty years old, there was something very boyish in his face – that second he turned back into a little kid, afraid of the consequences of his parents anger after breaking one of their rules, and I knew I struck gold. Children rarely listened, which was unfortunately why they died of ghost touch so much. It has always been a very sad statistic, one that Mr. Carter no doubt almost added onto himself.

He took one guilty look towards his mother who has been watching him with a curious glint in her eyes, not unkind but definitely exasperated at knowing her son was tempting fate like that without her knowledge, but she still gestured for him to tell the truth.

With the aura of a scolded schoolboy he turned back to the room and sighed.

“It was when I was sixteen,” he started sheepishly, face red now from embarrassment more than the anger of getting caught red-handed, “the ghost just appeared the winter prior, but I was away at my boarding school. When I returned, I was informed of its presence and the back part of the garden was closed off for safety. I was curious, though.” I nodded at him, to encourage him and soothe the sting of childish foolishness.

“Trust me Mr. Carter, that’s very normal,” Namjoon stated kindly and gave the man a smile, one that had even me relaxing in my chair, tail curling along the chair legs in search of a cozy cuddle, which I stubbornly ignored, just as I did anything else pertaining to the strange reactions these men managed to bring out in me. Especially the kind wolf and the cheeky tiger.

“Yes, indeed, children are always drawn to things and places like that,” Seokjin joined in and poured the man another cup of tea, “Even we got up to similar foolish shenanigans. Some of us never grew out of it.” The last part was pointed towards those who listened in, and I could almost hear the complaining grumble from Jungkook and Taehyung sitting in the kitchen as they argued over who invited more trouble.

Schooling my features, I looked back to the somewhat appeased human and watched him grow more comfortable in the armchair.

“I did the stupidest thing I could think of,” the man admitted, “I sneaked out during the night. It was early autumn, just like it is now, and I crept through the gardens towards the back-end corner, where it was seen. At first there was nothing out of ordinary. It was pretty cold outside, but it was September, so I thought nothing of it.”

I hummed non-commitally, jotting down what he was saying into my notepad which was slowly filling up. Hobi cleared his throat, but otherwise listened to the story with unrestrained focus.

“Well, that didn’t last for long though,” if the statement wasn’t ominous enough, the look of sheer terror that crossed Mr. Carter’s face was definitely sufficient, “I mean, to this day I am not completely sure what I saw. At first there was nothing, but then I suddenly started feeling unprecedented fear, absolute panic and terror, seemingly without a reason. I stood in the middle of the garden, alone as far as I knew, paralysed with horror. I didn’t know what to do. Then it started to appear. I noticed that there was a spot of darkness that felt unnatural, but slowly it turned into a vague shape. I couldn’t see many details, but it was a man. I watched it slink closer for a few seconds before the panic managed to override my body and I stumbled away. I’ve never tempted fate like that again.”

There was a moment of silence as the information shared sunk in, only broken by the quiet scratch of my pen as I wrote the details down before I forgot. When I looked up, I could almost see the wheels turning in Namjoon’s head and the calculations Hobi and Jin were making in their minds.

“So that’s why you insisted so much about us getting rid of the visitor,” the old woman mused finally, breaking the spell with her sad voice, “I’m sorry we never listened to you.”

“You said you saw it slightly, would you maybe be able to tell me what kind of clothes the man was wearing? Any guess about the period?” Namjoon’s questions shot through the tender moment, and it was obvious the wolf was miles away, probably thinking about the trip to the archives he’d have to make after this visit.

The guests didn’t seem to be too ruffled by his slightly awkward interruption and the man dipped back into that terrifying memory.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can give you anything more specific,” he stated apologetically, wringing his hands out in his lap, “but they were definitely what I would describe as old-timey clothes. Like a Victorian gentleman maybe.”

Awesome, so it was a vindictive Victorian man-ghost, those were always so much fun. I added the information onto the paper and hummed, the three other hybrids taking over the conversation once more and asking for some details, details we were always hoping for but rarely managed to get out of people.

Suddenly, the rest of the visit was over in a flash. Hoseok and Seokjin discussed money, and the lady seemed more than happy to pay us whatever to make sure her garden was safe for her family, especially after her son’s tearful admission that he himself came a little too close to death when disobeying her word.

As they were filing out of our house, slowly shrugging on coats while the four of us stood there and watched with polite awkward smiles, the man turned to me and leaned over discreetly.

“I’ve always felt so much shame for what I did,” he confessed, “I never really went against my parents. At the time it felt like a long overdue rebellion, but it almost ended with my death. I was so stupid, and when faced with danger, I just froze helplessly. At least it thought me to stray away from dangerous situations.” I gave him a gentle smile, hand automatically rising to pat at his shoulder to comfort him.

“Mr. Carter, trust me, kids just are that way, you weren’t any worse or different from heaps of other teenagers chasing a little adrenaline,” I assured him, thinking back to my own stunts that I pulled in the seemingly endless acres of haunted woods around our little village, “You got lucky though, you left the encounter alive. But don’t beat yourself up over freezing up, that’s a common side-effect of a sighting. Operatives are susceptible to it as well and it takes years of training to not get affected by it.”

The man looked to me in surprise and I was honestly shocked he wasn’t aware of such a thing. Didn’t humans learn about visitors as well?

“Were you not aware of that?” I asked with a melodious giggle, easing the human a little before he sheepishly shook his head.

“No, I always assumed I was just a special breed of coward,” he admitted quietly, the statement getting lost under his mother’s fussing as Namjoon offered to help her down the steep damp stone stairs, the woman accepting his arm with a blush and shy smile, which was an expression especially alien to her face.

“No, it’s called a ghost-lock and it’s common, besides there’s nothing cowardly about being afraid when coming face to face with death,” I whispered conspiratorially, bumping our shoulders together like we were naughty school-mates sharing a secret, “only a fool wouldn’t be scared.”

A youthful expression crossed his face as he grinned at me, and suddenly he looked nothing like a worried fifty-year-old father of a couple of girls and everything like a cheeky boy whose burdened heart finally got the rest it needed.

His fingers flew up to his head, tipping an imaginary hat in my direction as he thanked me for my kind words and for our services, before he turned and jogged down the stairs to catch up with his mother, who was already half-way to the gate, still hanging onto Namjoon’s strong frame.

“- you know, I was against my husband in that regard, and I’m glad I disagreed with him,” she was just chattering to him, and the wolf wore an awkward smile on his face, a quiet discomfort oozing off of him as Jin and Hobi walked woodenly next to her.

“I always told him, I have nothing against those hybrids, and they’re here in the neighbourhood,” the woman continued on totally unaware to the rising unease of her companions, “why drag ourselves through the city, when we can just walk down a couple streets! But he’s a stubborn man, that Jacob of mine. Well, I’ll be proven right, just like I always am, when he meets you and finds out that you’re such stand-up gentlemen!”

There were some half-hearted mutters of thanks, the three men exchanging wide-eyed stares before Mr. Carter finally caught up and took over, grabbing his mother’s hand and gently pulling her away from the tall hybrid, to the wolf’s relief. I saw a flicker of displeasure at being separated from her new-found young love, but she quickly found her own footing and suddenly very speedily made her way towards the gate and out on the street.

I watched them go amusedly, seeing the three flustered hybrids standing there and looking off after the spirited old lady. Well, at least she was one of those old people.

thank you so much for reading, and i hoped you liked the chapter! don't be shy and let me know what you thought <3

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[strawberryflavoredvenum]

Creepypasta mental health hcs

Like always, I am completely disregarding the cannon(and my earlier hcs) ^⁠_⁠^

Also tw: mental illness (duh), self harm, psychosis, depersonalization. Idk tw everything.

Also I hope everyone knows that none of these disorders create these kinds of people. This is all fiction and 99% of people with these disorders don't even get close to this. Ik it sounds obvious but I still want to remind you. I have ptsd, asd, and persistent depression. I also have friends with some of these and they are all amazing people. I mean this for personality disorders/disorders with stigma like npd or bpd as well.

Toby

❤️ schizophrenia

He has an even mix negative and positive symptoms. He doesn't experience them all at the same time. The negative symptoms are more common throughout the day, but the positive ones are more severe. (negative or positive does not mean good or bad. They are terms used to describe whether or not a symptom adds or takes away something to someone's behavior/functioning. A positive symptom can be hallucinations, while a negative symptom may me impaired attention)

His negative symptoms include not taking care of himself, self isolation, alogia (made worse when people bullied him for his speech patterns/tourettes), and anhedonia.

Positive symptoms include scrambled speech (word salad), delusions of persecution, auditory and visual hallucinations. Auditory:voices, name calling, other proxies voices, crying and screaming. Visual: bugs, shadow people, Lyra, hands, visual distortion. He also feels paranoid and nihilistic thinking.

During episodes he is known to hide, lash out, extreme emotional outbursts of fear, paranoia, anger or sadness. He also displays agitation, poor hygiene, and a lack of social awareness.

❤️Pica

Idk but I've always head cannoned him to have this. He is kinda sneaky about it so other proxies watch him closely around objects he's been known to try. Things like paper, paint chips, parchment, or anything with a ceramic/clay pottery/glass like consistency.

❤️tourettes

It's not as severe in my hc as it is in cannon. Still noticeable though. If he could feel it, his neck would be in so much pain.

❤️cipa

This is self explanatory. He has to check himself over with a mirror so he doesn't accidentally leave an injury untended. He finds random bruises he didn't know about all the time. He has to take great care to make sure he doesn't forget about injuries, letting them get infected. He has many scars. Also a couple chunks bitten out of his cheek and tongue.

❤️ He needs more help than the other proxies but has learned to live with his disorders and hold a routine. Toby is willing accept help, but only from certain people that he trusts and cares for. He tries his best every day to be better than the next.

Nina

❤️ manic depression

She has horrible episodes of depression, with intense mood swings. She was originally diagnosed with bipolar. She'll either be in bed all day, flirting/obsessing over Jeff(who is not reciprocating) or getting into arguments and impulsively spending her money. She also struggles with self harm. She hides it behind sleeves or heavy bracelets. Jane worries and checks on her often to make sure she's okay. Bringing her food and trying to get her to take a walk when Nina is depressed. When Nina is manic, Jane tries to ground her and keep her on a routine. She feels very guilty afterwards. Her friends understand. They all have issues.

❤️ hypersexuality

She doesn't have a lot of sex but she has intense intrusive thoughts about it. Especially involving jeff. She doesn't like to open up about it because of the stigma. She doesn't want people to see her as a slut or something. Most of them would never think that of her or anyone with hypersexuality. They wouldn't care if she was a whore to begin with.

❤️ Erotomania

She is convinced that Jeff and her are meant to be. She finds random signs that Jeff is reciprocating in things that don't exist. Jeff doesn't like her very much. Other proxies feel uncomfortable about it and try to keep them separate. (Nina would never cross the line into predatory behavior. None of the proxies are like that.) It's gotten much better but she falls back into old thought patterns during episodes. Nina has learned to respect boundaries and respect Jeff's.

❤️ drug abuse

She's been known to abuse party drugs. They are hard to get as a proxy(and also banned in the house) so it's much less severe than before.

❤️ histrionic personality disorder

She feels much more intensely in every way. She believes that her friendships are closer than they are, her emotions have no middle ground, and she has strong opinions on everything. She has some attention seeking tendencies and feels bad when she doesn't receive the desired response. She isn't a liar but often exaggerates when she tells stories.

❤️Nina is pretty receptive to help as long as she isn't in an episode. Sometimes she feels hopeless and gives up but not for long. She watches a lot of online therapy videos since they can't get a therapist.

Jeff

❤️ Antisocial personality disorder

He struggles to have much care for other people or their feelings. He's incredibly impulsive and thrill seeking. This has made him both the best and worst proxy in the mansion. He doesn't see the moral issue with lying. Luckily he's pretty bad at it and can never keep his story straight. His mood throughout the day is either agitated or bored. Becoming a proxy has made his antisocial behavior worse because he is able to justify it in his mind. If you asked him, he would say that he doesn't love anyone. Though he doesn't care for anyone, he likes being around Liu. His brother is one of the only people he chooses to talk to outside of joking or missions.

❤️ trichotillomania

Skin picking was always something he did but it got much worse after the fire. He tends to pick at the area between burned, and normal skin. He does the same with his scars. Putting bandages on his arms can help prevent picking. He tries not to look in mirrors often. Not because he hates how he looks, but it makes him want to pick more.

❤️psychosis

It's how he became "Jeff the killer" in the first place. In the early stages, he becomes more paranoid, disorganized, and stops taking care of himself. During the episode, he becomes mistrustful, agitated, comes to random conclusions/assumptions, doesn't sleep for days, and becomes more hostile. The full episode can last from a week to a month.

❤️ insomnia

He stays up until he drops. He doesn't try to help his insomnia until someone else intervenes. It majorly exacerbates his other problems.

❤️ He's generally not open to change. he could have gotten better if his parents had caught/cared it sooner. Liu isn't going to give up on him though. He doesn't care how much Jeff complains or lashes out. Liu and Slenderman are the only ones able to get Jeff to cooperate or calm down.

Liu

❤️ptsd

He isn't upset at his brother. But he still survived a horrific ordeal because of him. Sometimes when helping Jeff through an episode, he'll accidentally trigger Liu. Liu is determined to help Jeff, even if his PTSD makes it hard. He has bad nightmares about waking up to see Jeff. He tries to isolate when it gets bad. Jeff doesn't notice when Liu is struggling but when he finds out, he tries to help in his own way. Usually giving him space since he knows Liu's PTSD is mostly from him. Liu feels guilty about it.

❤️ codependence

Liu doesn't feel that he has anything left after everything that's happened. Even if Jeff was the one to kill their parents, and almost him, he is all Liu has left. He doesn't like living here but he'll go anywhere his brother goes. He feels responsible. Jeff would never admit this but Liu knows Jeff still needs him.

❤️major depressive disorder

He's had it since he was a kid. He feels empty and his motivation to do anything goes down the drain. His appetite is one of the first things to go. Not because he isn't hungry, but he doesn't feel like leaving his room. He'll sit at his desk staring at the work he needs to do or lay in bed.

Helen

❤️ autism spectrum disorder

He's always felt different. Never really known how to interact with others. He mostly keeps to himself. You don't need to learn to talk to people if you never talk to them. He has a system for everything that makes it easier for him. He keeps most things about himself private because he can be sensitive. Before he became a proxy, he tried to mask but he doesn't care anymore.

❤️Social phobia

All the bullying wrecked his self esteem. He feels that everyone is judging him. The other proxies don't see him much. He would rather sit in his room doing art. He even got a mini fridge so he wouldn't have to leave as much. He has heart palpitations and feels nauseous when he has to interact with the more abrasive proxies(Jeff).

❤️ generalized anxiety

Even before the bullying, he's always been an anxious person. He fidgets and double checks everything around him to make sure nothing will go wrong.

❤️ paranoid personality disorder

He generally does not trust others. It's not completely inaccurate half the time. He feels that others are out to get him. Relationships are really hard because he doesn't believe anyone actually likes him.

❤️ He's neutral about recovery but he needs to let someone in. He won't get better unless he learns to rely on someone else but he's scared.

Jane

❤️ptsd

Like Liu, she also has ptsd after what Jeff put her through. Unlike Liu, she hates Jeff for what he did. She feels angry about it because she didn't deserve what happened to her. She has a hard time letting herself fall asleep and has had panic attacks. She doesn't remember most of what happened and that might be for the best.

❤️body dysmorphia

She had this since middle school but it got worse when she was burned. The fire and left her body burned and scarred. She tries not to think about it but she misses how she looked before. She covers up a lot because she doesn't like her burns being stared at. Also because the burns are sensitive.

❤️she is actually trying her best to get better. She reads books and does meditation.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

yin & yang pt.5

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You were an unlikely pair, everyone could see that. But what happens when you get a glimpse into a future where your differences were too much for you to bear?

A/N: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! Happy Holidays <3

AA/N: Hella OOC. Once again I do not care. This part is shorter than the others and I just made it as random snippets from different episodes in Omniverse. For now I think I'm tapped out from this series but who knows maybe I'll watch another episode and want to write something

s1e3: A Jolt From the Past

Ben was not having a good day. Leave it to the universe to try and give a deep blow to his ego the second he thought things were looking up. He had expected to just go about his day, doing his job when all of a sudden, the universe decided to reward him with a new partner. Just when he was starting to get comfortable going solo.

It was only a couple of months after Gwen and Kevin had moved towns so they could be closer to Gwen's college that you had been made leader of a new task force. Details unknown to him because even though he's the wielder of the most powerful weapon in the universe, he wasn't cleared to know what his girlfriend would be up to.

Not knowing what the task force was about didn't sting nearly as much when he found out it was based on another planet, and you'd be living there indefinitely.

When you had left, Ben was in a funk for weeks, refusing to leave his bed, waiting for you to get off work so you could call him, only going through the memories of you he had; the jacket he had stolen from you, a rare framed picture of the two of you on his bedside table and more.

He had just gotten himself out of the house when 'Rook Blonko' suddenly appeared, whisking him out of trouble when he was about to embarrassingly get his ass handed to him.

And while his new partner was beginning to grow on him, Rook still found moments to drive Ben to wits end.

“It's why I'm looking forward to this. I'm anxious to see if Ben Tennyson lives up to the legends.”

“There are legends?" Ben was excited now.

“They can't all be true though, for instance, Alien X, that is just a myth, correct? And your relationship with Proctor (Y/N), that obviously must have been a result of some fan posting rumours on the extranet.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open in offense, he didn’t even know how to respond to that. Was this partner, who he has only barely gotten to like lately, seriously questioning his 3-year relationship with his future wife?

“Both of those things are true!”

Rook turned back with a small look of surprise before it dissolved and he chortled, “This is earth humour, you are being sarcastic, yes?”

“I’m not! Alien X is real, and I’ve been in a dating (Y/N) since we were sixteen!”

Rook took his irate tone in stride, shrugging like a complacent mother would humour her child, “Of course. I’m sure you’re in a relationship with the youngest ever proctor in the entire galaxy. You see, even I am capable of earth sarcasm.”

His jaw dropped even farther, "You're shitting me, right?"

"Well, if you're so insistent, why don't you show me some proof? As I understand, it is common for humans to take many pictures with their partner."

"I would if you hadn't thrown me into the canal!" He exclaimed, fishing his sopping wet phone from his soggy pocket and waving it in his face as water dripped down his wrist.

Rook didn't even blink, turning back so they could walk to the proto-truck, "Convenient."

Ben scowled, more annoyed than ever, trying to switch on his phone so he could try and show him any proof he had but it was in vain. His phone was completely damaged.

Ben stopped in his tracks staring at the now ruined phone with wide eyes. He hadn't backed anything up.

The candid snap he had taken of you while you unconsciously played with the necklace, he had given you as you sipped a smoothie. The text message where you said you loved him AND used a heart emoji. That picture of you asleep, your hair mussed, wearing only his T-shirt as you slept soundly against his chest!!!??

"Aw, man!"

*

Ben was lucky that he had a change of clothes at the Plumbers base. He should have known that when Rook said he wanted to stop by for a briefing, it wouldn't have been brief at all. He briefly considered ditching his partner and going home to take a much-needed nap. There really was something about water fights that tired him out more than usual.

He loitered around the mess area. All of the agents were currently on duty, so he had his feet kicked up on the table as he scrolled through his phone, absentmindedly liking Gwen's story of a picture of herself and commenting 'No one wants to see u dweebus, where's Zedd?'

"You look comfortable; almost like you're dating the proctor of this quadrant."

Ben's neck almost snapped in his shock, nearly falling to the floor in his effort to stand up. You were leaning against the frame of the door, an almost invisible smirk on your face and Ben’s stomach did a flip.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing home so soon?!” He exclaimed and bound over to you, to pull you into a tight hug.

“I asked for a week to spend with you, since I missed you so much.”

His heart jumped, "Really?”

“No.” His face fell, and you chuckled, gently tilting his chin up with a single finger as a tiny apology. He leaned into you like always and you let your eyes rake over him, tracing over every single line of his features before ending at his lips, leaning back when he attempted to kiss you.

“I just met with the Magistrata to give a brief on our progress. Due to the sensitive nature of the mission, we wanted to refrain disclosing any details over the comms." You explained, only feeling slight guilt at the sight of his sunken shoulders when you avoided his kiss again, "I did miss you, though. So, I’m on earth for two weeks before I’m deployed again.”

His face brightened, both at your confession and at the knowledge that you’d be in his arms for the next two weeks.

You chuckled again at the sight of his wide grin, “That happy?”

Ben nodded, finally capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that you intended to be short, very aware of where you both currently were. But when Ben’s hand cupped the back of your head so he could deepen the kiss, you found yourself winding your arms around his neck. It was times like this that you were reminded that Ben wasn’t the only one who was head over heels.

“Missed you.” He murmured against your lips, hand moving to gently frame your face as he coaxed your mouth open with his tongue.

“Ben, I have finished the mission repor—Oh my!”

You pulled away too slowly for your liking, but too quickly for Ben's liking, still keeping your hands on Ben’s shoulders, knowing that Ben hated whenever you parted too quickly as you tried to catch your breath.

Even as your subordinate stood at the door, averting his gaze out of respect but also still not being able to contain his shock, you still felt dizzy from the earth-shattering kiss you had just shared. It had clearly been far too long since you’d been together because while you were embarrassed that your subordinate had witnessed such a vulnerable moment of intimacy, a part of you couldn’t help but want to continue kissing him anyway.

However, you were technically currently off-duty, so you were free to kiss your boyfriend as you pleased. Technically, of course.

Still, you blinked away the stars in your eyes and stepped away from Ben, letting him hold your hand, “Blonko, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“You’ve met before?” Ben asked, pulling you closer by the hand and winding an arm around your waist. He sent a look to his partner that was extremely smug, but you couldn’t quite decipher why.

“I was on the selection committee to choose him. Given my experience with you, we figured it would be best for Magister Tennyson and I to be the ones to recruit your new partner.”

“A little heads up would’ve been nice.” Ben grumbled into your shoulder, now resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“You would’ve complained. It was necessary now that I’m leading the new task force. Besides, Rook is a great cadet; patient enough to deal with your temperament and dependable enough to put his foot down when you get carried away.” You explained, leaning into Ben as he began playing with your hair and interlocking your fingers with his that were on your waist.

Ben mumbled something negligible under his breath and you turned back to Rook who finally managed to compose the look of shock that almost seemed tattooed into his features.

"So, Agent Blonko, I heard from Magister Tennyson that there has been unusual activity in Bellwood. I know I'm off duty, but would you mind giving me a quick brief?"

Rook immediately took you up on your offer, eager to be recognized by proctor of this quadrant and the two of you conversed about the weird sightings that had happened as of late.

Ben didn't pay much attention to your conversation with Rook, already preoccupied with the way your thumb was running gentle circles over his knuckles. At first, he pulled you closer to prove to Rook that you were, in fact, in a relationship but he also was ecstatic that you were in his arms finally after missing you so much.

He wanted to keep showing you the affection he’d been holding back for so long, but Ben knew that if he kissed your neck right here, you’d slip out of his grasp—so he resisted the urge.

You heard his lips part and immediately responded, "Do not bite me or you're going to sleep on the couch for the next two weeks."

When you turned your head, sure enough, his teeth were inches away from your unmarred skin and he pouted, affronted, "It's not my fault you're giving him all your attention after we've been apart for 2 months!"

You rolled your eyes, casting a cautious glance at Rook before you were whispering, "Behave and you may bite me all you want back home."

Ben was all too happy to shut up and let you finish your conversation.

You certainly regretted making that promise two weeks later when the other agents in the taskforce asked what exactly you had done over your holiday to warrant marks all along your neck and collar.

***

s3e6: Frogs of War

You were outnumbered, outgunned; you knew that. The safety of the civilians was top priority and while their Freedom was priceless, saving their humanity meant nothing if the Earth was blown to smithereens.

Ben fighting against the Incurseans for longer could have taken down a couple more ships, but you knew it wouldn't take long for more to appear. Where was Paradox when you needed him?

A surrender really was the only option for the food of the humans and living organisms still remaining on the planet. You knew that. But the price of a peaceful surrender came at the forceful exile of the love of your life.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to go down fighting.

But fighting would only bring more destruction.

And while the thought of him living as a prisoner for the rest of his life tore you to shreds, you couldn't put his life above the countless citizens who needed you to protect their best interests.

"(Y/N)," He whispered helplessly, trying to convince you to take his side. You bit your lip, turning your eyes downward and his shoulders sank. This couldn't be the end; you didn't want him to leave with the sting of your betrayal.

You stepped forward, wary of Princess Attea that glared at you, waiting for the moment you stepped a hair out of line to kill you in your place. Heart beating wildly against your ribs, you moved toward Ben, coiling an arm around his shoulders and framing his face with your other hand before bringing him down to a passionate kiss.

Ben inhaled deeply, holding onto your waist in an iron grip, tilting his head to kiss you deeper. This was it; you were saying goodbye, the taste of apologies and pain on his lips. He didn't want to stop kissing you; he never wanted to stop kissing you. But ending the kiss meant goodbye, and he didn't want to say goodbye.

Kevin looked away uncomfortably at the sight of your tongue pushing past his lips.

You pulled away finally, lips wet but eyes dry. Ben didn't try to chase your lips like he usually did and that hurt more than you had expected it to, "I love you."

He nodded, mouth locked shut.

He was shackled shut in the escape pod and you watched with bated breath as the door shut in on him, catching a final glance through the foggy glass.

The sad smile you had meant to be reassuring had wobbled at the sight of his cheeky wink, trying hard to hide the upturn of the corner of your mouth.

*

His name was Bullfrag.

Only he could come up with something so imbecilic that it ended up creative. You had forced yourself not to laugh at the absurdity of it when he had introduced himself to you; appearing along with the other rebels in order to break you out of your holding cell.

You wanted him to embrace you, but he was hiding his identity for a reason, so you had to bite your tongue and meet his gaze through those stupid shades.

He knew that you knew, it was apparent in the tenderness of his touch, by the way he gently nudged you behind him, but the gestures had flown over Kevin's head, which made you question your time spent as team babysitter. Clearly, he hadn't been babysat enough. Personally, you blamed Ben for claiming all of your attention.

Once Magister Tennyson was rescued, he revealed his identity—a revelation that came as no surprise to either you or Gwen.

You didn't try to hide your relief when Ben transformed back. It might not have been obvious to many others, but it was apparent to him, judging by the immediately relaxing of your spine and your boyfriend, who knew you too well, pulled you into a hug before you could pretend like you weren't interested. Ben could feel every tense muscle in your body begin to ease once he had his arms circling your waist.

Your fingers immediately found the short hairs at the nape of his neck, heart reaching for him the second he sighed and surrendered to your hold. You exhaled, hiding a kiss to his shoulder by pressing your forehead to the fabric of his shirt.

"Are they gonna make out again? Because it was uncomfortable as fuck the first time"

Ben rolled his eyes, lifting his head from the nook of your neck, "That kiss saved my life!"

"Yeah, yeah, lover boy." Kevin drawled.

"No, seriously!" Ben argued, pulling out something from his pocket, "My amazing girlfriend passed a skeleton key in my mouth! It's how I was able to get out."

You gave him an unimpressed frown, he really should have been babysat more often in your early days, "Did you really think I would kiss him like that in front of his grandfather?"

"I mean, if you thought you were never gonna see him again?!"

You simply tutted at him, holding your hand out for the skeleton key, which he happily returned, not without a kiss to your hand and fingers, "I love you, too."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

[ripplestitchskein]

I’ve been mulling it over and I think where the Octavia storyline falls apart a bit for me when it comes to understanding and empathizing with her character is that the valid reasons for her to be upset aren’t what she’s upset about and we have no indication that the major reason she would be in the frame of mind she’s in during the final confrontation ever came into play.

Stella and Andrealphus haven’t really hidden how they feel about Stolas. Octavia knows his punishment, all of hell does. She knows that he’s been trying to reach out to her, Stella takes her phone and then loudly and for a very long time laughs about how he’s been repeatedly trying to reach her for a month. Like it would make more sense if that had been hidden from her, but it wasn’t, she has been shown that he is trying to reach her. They could have taken the thread that she was mad that he took awhile to reach out to her, Andrealphus even comments on it in the scene, and we the audience saw Stolas too caught up on his own shit and then realizing “oh shit I need to call Via. “. A perfectly logical route to take, we’ve seen it on screen several times that Stolas’s first impulse is to act and then remember he has responsibilities after. But Via doesn’t seem to be mad about that aspect.

And this isn’t a misunderstanding where we the audience see Stolas trying to contact her and she doesn’t know he is. She did see him calling, she heard that he was repeatedly trying for a month, so I don’t see how her major issue is him leaving her when he kept trying to get in contact with her and then showed up at her house putting himself in extreme danger to do so.

I could see her being mad that he got himself banished because of his choices, not knowing the reason it was brought into court was because of her Mother and Andrealphus. Stolas did break the law for Blitz, and doing so resulted in his exile, but she doesn’t mention that in her final speech either.

The episode talks about the cheating and the broken family aspect but Octavia doesn’t even mention that, we see it in her song, her house crumbling around her, but that doesn’t seem to be the issue when she confronts him. She doesn’t mention that he destroyed their home. It’s heavily implied she’s upset he destroyed the image he built up but because of the addition of the antidepressants it comes off as being more about that than the actual cheating and divorce.

We see Stolas being willing to die for Blitz and leaving her that way, he doesn’t in the end, but she would still be understandably hurt by him just being willing to make that choice. I thought for sure that was going to be the crux of her issue after Mastermind. But she doesn’t really even focus on that aspect of the situation. She never really mentions it at all outside of the same nebulous you promised you wouldn’t leave me, you chose him that has been her issue since LooLoo Land. A “You were willing to die and break your promise to not leave me” would have made more sense to me than “You faked your way through a relationship with my mother and lied about being happy all these years”.

Like Stolas’s actual issues we’ve seen are NOT what Octavia seems to be ultimately upset about. And they could have been if we leaned into the precautionary heir aspect of it but they really haven’t.

I know she’s a teenager, but I have a hard time believing the impulse to learn that someone you love was so unhappy for so many years they just faked their way through it and had to be medicated to cope, and then be mad at them for that? Like, isn’t that a very obvious act of love? Like someone being willing to make themselves unhappy for you for so many years is at its crux a sacrifice. I understand what they were trying to convey, that she feels like he had to use medication to carry out the obligation of being her dad, that she believes that the whole time he was just putting on a show of loving her like he put on a show of loving her mother, but without the tie in of her being a duty he had to perform and “get through” it falls a bit flat when she never mentions that detail, when we’re not even sure if she knows that is why she exists. It would have been a much stronger motivation if she did. If Octavia had found out that Stolas didn’t necessarily want to have a wife or a child, that he was forced to by duty and obligation, and that he had been medicating himself and faking it the whole time and as soon as he had an out he took it, would be a far stronger case for her rage than what actually happened: her finding a box of medicine bottles.

I think we had a strong setup in a variety of directions but in the end they didn’t really commit to any of them. I’ve seen a ton of “I relate to Octavia because I too come from a home where a partner cheated.” Or. “My parents also divorced and that sucked”. And the show was heavily implying that was her issue, with the client having a parallel to their situation, but in the actual confrontation it’s more about the idea that someone taking medication is using that medication to create emotion and feeling where otherwise it wouldn’t exist, but why that fails for me as a reasoning is that just the act and willingness to do that, to force yourself into a loveless marriage and to do everything you can to maintain that facade implies love and care from the outset.

Maybe I’m just too old and being a parent with a now adult child skews my perception, but there were a number of much better reasons than what they ultimately went with, imo.

[evelynvipah]

what is your thoughts on the argument between vi and cait in episode 8 of season 2 ? Like when vi first of all blamed cait for not trusting jinx and daring to lock her up when she saved her life (which is something cait would never have done - I mean obviously - as vi reminded her). I understand that vi is upset because she knows that her sister has changed but I find that it is really unfair that she told cait all of that. I notice that no one talks about this single sentence but I still find it very important because it proves that vi is far from innocent in her relationship with cait given what she told her

I enjoyed this scene a lot because many people think Vi just trusted Cait right off the bat because she called her Cupcake, but really she still didn’t know where Cait mentally was even after.

I think during that scene Vi’s faults or flaws come in when she’s angry and she feels like she needs to get it all out before someone else. She’s not actually hearing or understanding the other person because she’s focused on why she is angry. We see this way back when she’s talking to Mylo and he’s validly criticizing her taking Powder everywhere they go, and it being a liability. Also the talks with Vander and her taking action herself getting other people in situations.

We know Vi cares for Cait a lot, but when her sister is in the question, she’s not going to tolerate anything getting between them. Like you said, she’s seen Jinx change or embrace more of who Powder was through Isha and Vander again. So, to let it be known how much that meant to her and find out that Cait “put” her in a cell (prison trauma for vi), it must’ve been so jarring. She also knows that Caitlyn understands how damaging prison was so she probably freaked out thinking Cait was still on that streak of putting people in Stillwater where you are only to be left broken and isolated.

Now about the fair part, I’m not sure I really understand what you mean (if it’s her telling information abt Jinx or just saying she didn’t trust her) but I think Vi having Jinx apart of another plan was just a smart move because the last time she knew Caitlyn—like she thought she did—the girl wanted to flat out murder her sister and was going to do whatever it took. I don’t blame Vi for giving Jinx the opportunity to either subdue Caitlyn or Singed because her father, and two sisters (if you count Isha) are now on the line and her love and loyalty to her family comes first.

I don’t think I fully answered your question, but I want to say I do love how Cait called out that she did have two plans working simultaneously because it does show where both characters are in their relationship. I think it’s less of Vi’s innocence and more showing that she is not that trusting person she once was with Cait. Things truly have changed between them.

EDIT: Anon if you mean it’s unfair that Vi expected Cait to fully trust Jinx then I definitely agree. Jinx had been terrorizing Caitlyn directly for a whole season, it’s completely understandable that she isn’t able to believe in her the way Vi does. Once again I think Vi expects everyone to see things from her point of view because she feels like she knows better than them (not in a condescending way). We obviously see it in the way she repeatedly tries to convince Cait Jinx has changed, and we also see it when she tries to convince Ekko of the same when he’s been the one going head to head with her for seven years.

[shychick-52]

It pisses me off, because Roland's recognition of Cedric at the end of 'Cedric's Apprentice' (both when he saved Sofia and when he pulled off his invisibility potion) was the most sincere and earnest it's ever been prior to the end of 'In Cedric We Trust' and the finale; almost every other time seemed kind of half-assed compared to that (yet poor Cedric, desperate for any scrap of recognition, always eagerly lapped it up). And I imagine both Cedric and Sofia truly thought that Roland finally saw what a great sorcerer Cedric was at the end of 'Cedric's Apprentice', and that his attitude of him would finally change; and when his reputation around the palace didn't change or he would still get blamed for freaking everything, I imagine how deeply disappointed and hurt Cedric must have been... almost feeling like a fool for daring to have hope. Because no matter how many times Cedric proved himself, Roland seemed to go "Oh cool, good job ig" and then nothing would really change. I imagine it almost cheapened the sincerity of Roland's show of respect and praise in 'Cedric's Apprentice.'

Even Amber and James (especially Amber) went back to treating him like a second-rate after 'Cedric's Apprentice'. It wasn't until 'Substitute Cedric' (and in the start of that episode, Cedric and Sofia talked about how nobody except her thinks he's a great sorcerer) that their views of him finally changed- and seemed to actually stay changed- once and for all. And I'm sure that Sofia and the kids totally told Roland and Miranda all about how Cedric helped them save Royal Prep and then spent the rest of the day teaching them magic (and I LOVE your hc that he regularly tutored the kids in Sofia's sorcery class), so you'd think Roland would have been really impressed by that! (Also, it's interesting to note that at the end of 'Substitute Cedric', Cedric no longer had any desire to finish his potion to make his face appear in every mirror in the kingdom so that "all will finally behold my true greatness whenever they fix their hair", and it was greatly implied that he no longer cared what anyone else thought about him since Sofia and the other royal kids- and even the three Good Fairies- thought he was a great sorcerer... yet, he would go back to caring about what everyone else thought of him).

Although- like I said in another post- we didn't see Roland and Cedric interact much for most of s1 after 'Cedric's Apprentice', so in the early s2 episode 'The Enchanted Feast' when Roland apparently had enough confidence in Cedric to perform (in front of the other royals in the Tri-Kingdom Area, no less) and Cedric likewise felt confident about doing so (instead of nervous, like he would have been before), it's easy to speculate that they were both still influenced by the events of 'Cedric's Apprentice'. Which is why it really bothers me that Roland (and Amber) were VERY quick to immediately dismiss Cedric and go back to thinking he's a failure as soon as it seemed that his spells failed (without even giving him a second chance)! Although, tbf, Roland was surrounded by other royals, so his reputation was likely his first priority, which still isn't an excuse but is still understandable... but even after Sofia emphasized/confirmed in front of everyone that Cedric used his magic to save them all from "Sascha's" vines trapping them at the end (and I definitely hc that Sofia also told them all about how Cedric played a huge part in defeating Miss Nettle, tho we didn't see her do so), Roland would still revert back to overlooking and doubting Cedric until the next time he saved the day/help saved the day, rinse and repeat.

HOWEVER, all this inconsistency and messy development with both Roland and Cedric may have been frustrating from a story-telling pov, but it makes it all the more realistic and fascinating, proving just how flawed and complex both men are (both themselves/individually and their history/dynamic)!

@bettathanyou @fantadym

You know how at the end of 'Cedric's Apprentice', Roland was so sincere in seeing what a great sorcerer Cedric was after all? Well, since Sofia had wanted to show him and everyone what a great sorcerer Cedric really was, do you think she felt bad when Roland and everyone else went back to disrespecting him after that (you just know Cedric must have felt like shit)?

Also, Sofia should have told Roland what she learned from Cedric- that his mistakes around Roland was really from his nerves (from his lack of support and faith, resulting in a vicious circle).

@tookishcombeferre

[egophiliac]

I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.

Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?

oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D

I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!

I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)

the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!

personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.

it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!

(blue - thirds, red - half)

and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):

(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)

other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:

and frame and control the focus:

honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!

NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

I'm starting Mission to Zyxx Season 5 now, and I have feelings about that.

First, it generally scares me when people hype anything up at all because there is no guarantee that anyone values the exact same thing I do to the same degree. Even if I trust the creators of a thing to value something and try to do right by it, that doesn't always necessarily mean it will be successful, especially if that involves doing something wildly different than what made it good in the first place (I have been burned this way before). I guess I'm just hoping they continue the format of goofy improv shenanigans for the majority of it with something more planned and emotional in the finale if they want, like they've been doing all along. I'd think they would, and I've heard nothing bad about the ending, but I guess it still makes me nervous because I'm so close to the end and I want it so badly to stick the landing. I'm setting my expectations on the floor so I can be surprised instead of disappointed, but honestly, I don't need it to be better, I just need it to be on par with the rest.

Second, and more briefly, I'm happy it's (hopefully) ending before it has a chance to decline. I am so on board with that philosophy. But on the other hand, finishing a thing that I really, really like and knowing there's not another one out there gives me a special kind of heartache. Like, I know there will be other good media, and stuff that's good and unique in other ways, but I know for a fact that there are no other podcasts out there that have the same mix of a balance of off-the-wall improv and structured narrative, quality comedy, fantastical sci-fi setting and loveable characters, and high quality production. There are other things out there with many of those qualities, but nothing that checks every one of those boxes. It's a lightning-in-a-bottle thing that very much feels like the right people had to be in the right place at the right time to do it. Attempts to do it again would feel hollow because it had to be born out of necessity and passion and the talents of the people involved, so if you switch out the people it loses the reasons it's great, and if the same people tried to do it again it'd feel tired. That makes me so, so grateful it exists, but also so, so sad that it doesn't, and I'm 80% of the way done. When it's over, it's over.

Anyway. Now that that's all out there, I'm just gonna finish listening and have fun. Wish me luck.

[rpfofficial]

character wrapped 2023 💥

tagged by @davidtennantpussytulpa ^-^ i didn't know how many to do so i copied tara and did top 10. i know the severance guys are Four Of Them but i can't separate them theyre all equally important to me

will graham (hannibal), em haywood (nope), aziraphale (good omens), mark & dylan & helly & irving (severance), hawkeye pierce (mash), martha jones (doctor who), ivan karamazov (the brothers karamazov), kim kitsuragi (disco elysium), stewy hosseini (succession), ruescott melshi (andor/rogue one)

i will tag... @fagician @britomart @libraryfag @roadwhores @majorbaby @globuspolski @hadleyfraserfaggot @tenderscience if u want to ^-^

[karliahs]

I'm caught up! and can reclaim my £4.99 a month. more liveblogging below the cut, including some manga ending spoilers:

that mic line..."our buddy's already lost an eye and a leg. Let's make sure he gets to keep his good memories of you." holding this next to "that's for making my buddy cry." the fact that when they need to give mic a motivation they so often reach for his love for his friend. I'm really normal about it

camie's line about hawks being a "rizzcake" and how if he died she'd enter her "grief era" made me have to pause the episode and laugh until I cried. I took so much psychic damage hearing the word "unalive" that all I could do was screech-laugh helplessly, and it wasn't even over yet. this is the best line of dialogue in the entire show (sorry to reigning champion "some people have arbor ardor but I'm a city kitty, ya dig?")

shinsou...god. I have too many thoughts to really explain. how does it feel to sit watching videos of 200 year old unstoppable supervillain so you can learn his voice. how does it feel to stand quietly and hide and wait during the battle for your world's survival. how does it feel to be attacked and start to drown and be voiceless and know a monster will tear the world apart without your voice. you are sixteen years old. you have had zero (0) actual hero classes. fucking christ.

I full sobbed twice this season. once was touya. and even through that was marvelling at how visually incredible his animation is. I can't explain my thoughts because I'm just 😭😭😭

and the second was toga. again idk how to talk about this. I paused with 2 eps left because I felt this heavy sadness after dabi and then seeing it was toga eps up next, with the knowledge I had about the ultimate fate of these characters, it took me a bit to push through that.

and idk. provionally I think...these are pretty well-written tragedies. and the thematic implications of them all being tragedies, all ending like this, is so...man.

made it pretty hard to focus on the all might mech stuff, I will be real. I have a bias against the Mech Thing that I will maybe get into at some point

from a quick glance of chapter titles, I think I'd only need to read like...3 volumes? to go from where season 7 ends to the end of the whole thing. I will probably do that at some point, since I already have so many ending thoughts just having consumed it through vague spoilers. I should at least be annoyed in an informed fashion

okay I'm tired of paying for crunchyroll so I'm being god's bravest little soldier and actually watching a show I claim to like despite inexplicable anxiety. season 7 in progress!!

[amelikos]

Sango being a loudmouth who goes at her own pace and often questions orders, yet cowers at any sign of an authority figure intimidating her is such an intriguing contrast in her character.

She quickly complied and behaved when Hamber asked her and Onyx if they were protesting his orders in HZ024. Kaede glaring at her and scolding her after she made a mess of the cooking competition in HZ047 actually worked, and Sango felt cornered enough that she decided to leave. Kihada explaining the battle rules to her in HZ055 and Aoki telling her that her personal rules don't apply in society got her frustrated and upset enough that she just ended up leaving the battlefield.

There are just many recurring instances of Sango reacting in similar ways towards authority figures. They don't necessarily have to raise their voice at her, yet Sango feels easily intimidated and overwhelmed by implied threats and criticism.

[autism-disco]

the unending cosmic horrors of the universe versus A Song

[aq2003]

almost forgot. ten's run episode ranking (nine ranking here)

some stray thoughts and opinions under the cut

my overall ranking for the series so far would be 4 > 1 >= 3 > 2. donna sweep babygirl

"i have brain damage" tier would've been called "the qpr meth has gotten to me" but then i remembered how absolutely glued to the screen i was for sound of drums <3 all of the other episodes there are either donna episodes or episodes where ten goes through horrors specifically bc donna isn't there and sound of drums is the exception lmao

by default i think simm!master is the best main villain in ten's run. he is still very goofy like the cybermen and the daleks (and 98% of the villains in this show really) but simm!master has that toxic doomed yaoi backing him and that means everything in the world. rtd drop your simm!master spotify playlist

it is SO CRAZY how an episode called "planet of the ood" can make me cry. but it did. and i love it for it. i love the ood so much. they are my little guys

stolen earth/journey's end was my least favorite arc in main series 4 - which is just a testament to how much i loved the rest of it lmao. like i still rly liked the finale, and the scene of davros pointing out that ten turned their friends into soldiers and how it was framed almost like they were being put on trial. Was so fucking juicy. but it felt overall like the story was doing that "trying to include everyone" thing and the pacing felt off as a result. like i rly needed the donna mind wipe scene to be longer it was goin so fast i couldn't process it

42 goes so crazy and i love it so much bc to me it is the defining tenmartha episode. you have that showcase of deep inherent trust, of swearing to save each other, of being the person the other needs bc is there anyone else. but you also have ten screaming at her to kill him so that he won't hurt anyone and then at the end, deflecting and refusing to talk w her about it. "burn with me martha" is like that previously-unspoken-now-brought-to-front undercurrent to their whole relationship and ten says it while being possessed by a rageful vindictive sun. waow

i really dislike the temporary companions (astrid and christina in voyage of the damned and planet of the dead respectively). not the characters themselves but the timing and role they have in the story and how they're framed. i do understand that part of ten's character is that he gets attached very easily and can't stand being on his own, but also for astrid this was directly post-martha where ten's realized he's been fucking up her life by acting the way he did. and for christina this was post-donna and pre-time-lord-victorious. forming a friendship that ends w/ tragedy or ten pushing them away i can see, but romantic tension is pushing it HARD. which leads me to my next deranged point

ten is aroace to me i'm so sorry society he clocked the aroace meter the minute the story decided to introduce donna and then in series 4 make them the soulmates of all time while there isnt a HINT of romantic tension between them. and there is something so narratively aspec about ten being created by and for love but sometimes his love isn't enough/isn't the right kind and everyone will leave or find someone else. being an alien can be a metaphor for being aroace if i'm crazy enough about it (and also if their humanity is a constant theme to their arc that is hammered in time and time again)

i forgot i was supposed to talk about the episodes hold on a second

one of the most out of body experiences i had was watching love and monsters, really quite liking it (despite finding the ending weird) because it's a grounded and solid episode w strong characterization and really great jackie and rose moments, only to find out this episode is nearly universally despised by the dr who fanbase. help girl

the human ten arc probably has the most underrated villains in the show. i just really love that concept of monsters that need to eat timelords in order to survive, and ten giving them one chance to be spared of his rage and die peacefully by turning himself into a human for a hot minute. it's just really neat idk.

time lord victorious my babygirl. like oh my god i was wondering for the entire time how the fuck does ten go from "vain/overconfident but at heart always driven by his love for others" to "god complex" and the answer to this question is "you take away everyone he cares about and make him watch more and more people die in front of him until he just fucking snaps". at the end of waters of mars i was almost expecting him to knock 4 times on the tardis door himself and was so glad it didnt happen. etc etc. i'm also really glad that it doesn't last for more than 5 minutes. what he does essentially haunts him for the rest of his (short) life and that's so so important

end of time part 2 doesn't get a ranking. it is simultaneously the best episode and worst episode. it made me cry my eyes out three separate times. like it's not even an episode anymore it's like an experience. specifically one akin to watching a good friend you made over the course of 16 days die in front of you. i felt my soul being sucked out and i wont ever feel anything again (until the 60th anniversary specials fix me). god fucking bless

but pairing up martha and mickey out of nowhere was so so fucking bad and i need to actually murder whoever made that decision

[annabelle--cane]

"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"

yes! it did!

"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"

not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."

"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"

SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:

for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart

it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.

here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms

here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.

here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.

once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:

the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.

chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.

klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.

EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.

an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.

an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.

the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.

EDIT II:

here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.

here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.

(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)

once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.

[agatharkn3ss]

Nicky's Rio son too.

I feel there were so many lines that imply this and the finale is starting to make more sense - especially because the dandelion in the trial!

Jen explains that Green Craft™ is about the cycle of all living things - growth and decay in constant flow. So it's not just about dying but being born too.

So it would track that Rio's love for Agatha was so strong that it actually created life - Nicky. However, there would be consequences to this because proper balance had to be maintained somehow. Rio probably even warned Agatha about it, but Agatha always believes she is above the rules so in her head she probably thought she had every right to Nicky (maybe even her "prize" that she alludes to in their final confrontation). This would really add to Rio's hurt - Nicky was her son too. She thought she was giving Agatha a gift of life, but instead Agatha sees her as this cruel "evil" that "gave her nothing". To her Rio is the one who just "took."

It feels like it is also implied by Rio at the start of the episode when she says "This walk with another woman's son on a road that doesn't...". She could be referring to Nicky being her son.

But I think Agatha finally accepts her truth during the final trial when she sees the dandelion seed in her cameo. She even says "Out of Death - life" as she grows it because she finally understands the literal implications of that phrase.

That Dandelion is representation of Nicky. And sure enough, as soon as the flower grows and blossoms, it quickly enters the final stage - when it turns into the seeds that can be scattered by the wind again and continue the cycle of life. Because guess what, "dandelions produce seeds asexually by apomixis, where the seeds are produced without pollination, resulting in offspring that are genetically identical to the parent plant".

When Nicky is born, we could probably assume it was indeed asexual reproduction - Agatha says she didn't use a spell or incantation, but instead he was made from scratch (obviously a clever nod to his name). On one hand it could be read like Agatha is astonished how something this magical could happen without actually using any witchcraft. However, this also feels like a suggestion that maybe she is just amazed at how he could possibly exist. Kathryn Hahn in her recent interview alluded to how the witches didn't need men, babies were just born. So it was Rio's "dandelion seed" that made it happen.

It is the second characteristic of dandelion species is what seals the deal for me - "the offspring being genetically identical to the parent plant". Nicky as the offspring of Death needs bodies to survive in this realm. During his birth Rio says she can offer only time, because she can maintain the balance, as long as Nicky gets his bodies.

That's why she hates Rio and calls her evil - not because of Rio herself, but because of what her "genetics" did to Nicky. Agatha would rather have people believe that she is this evil witch killer that traded her child for the Darkhold, than anyone to know the awful truth that it was Nicky who was the cause of the killings.

In the flashbacks, there are those remarks about how they haven't "eaten for days" and that whenever Nicky was poorly he said he was hungry. Agatha said she couldn't create the food for him (and protect him from what's coming). She could've cooked that goat they had with them if they were really that hungry (btw, I still believe that goat is Senor Scratchy), but that wasn't the "food" that Nicky meant.

And just like Billy, Rio couldn't just take Nicky. He had to "turn himself in". It was his choice not to kill any more witches. On the day Nicky dies, he says "My mother needs me home". I think he is talking about Rio here, since he usually calls Agatha "Mama". This is the moment the decides for himself and goes home to Death.

I feel like this opens the possibility that we will indeed see Nicholas Scratch in the future (and have a role similar to the one in the comics). That maybe even he might not have "died" because he is an offspring of death, so he just exists in some Underworld realm, where he no longer needs bodies to survive. Maybe Agatha might have hoped that by killing more and more witches, she will bring Nicky back to life/this realm?

And the Ballad really was a protection spell she made for him too?

This would also be a more plausible explanation why Agatha went to kiss Rio when Billy asked "Is this how Nicky died?". I feel this was more of an apology to Rio for hating her for Nicky's treatment, because she finally understood why she had to do it?

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~