#it doesn't really feel like he's left but idk that place is so empty now

[putrid-sex-machine]

KiNKTOBER DAY 28 ❀ LEON

PROMPT: fucking machine, sex pollen & dub-con

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut (obv), dub-con (typical sex pollen stuff), sex pollen, monster fucking, plant monster, leon is a bottom idk what to tell u

A/N: what can i say, i love torturing leon kennedy<3. I'll be honest, the first version got away from me a little... This is how the fic was originally planned to go, i'm not sure how i got so side tracked lol. anyways, hope you enjoy!! (^_^) art is by @citrine-elephant (lmk if u dont want me using ur art here)

check out the alternative version of this fic here

this fic has nsft content. you have been warned.

Leon's only consolation was that he didn't do this to himself. Not this time at least. He was pushed into this. Tackled, really, by a B.O.W. with more limbs than he'd care to count. Or vines he supposes.

And to think things were going smoothly.

He'd been tasked with the investigation of what was rumored to be a Neo-Umbrella lab, and Leon had been too quick to assume safety, assume the place was empty as it seemed. It was open, empty, and the electricity miraculously still worked – practically a cakewalk. Aside from the absurd amount of plant growth that is.

Thinking this would be easy, though, turned out to be his first mistake.

Now he finds himself strapped into what (uncomfortably enough) seems to be a birthing chair, his legs forceably pulled apart to expose him. He'd be more bothered had he not been drunk off his ass on whatever unknown pollen-like substance fills the strange glass capsule hes now trapped in. Worse yet is his body's response to it all. He's hard, unbearably so. He'd find it humorous if the situation weren't so humiliating. He hasn't had a proper hard on in ages, (he can thank whiskey for that) yet this of all things has managed to do it for him. Pathetic.

A robotic female voice rings out, "Stage One completed. Stand clear of the Containment Area and prepare for Stage Two."

Whatever that means, Leon has no interest in staying to find out. He tries to jerk his arms free of the metal cuffs holding him, but its so hard to think, so hard to move, restraints aside. His body feels heavy and hot, betraying his mind and refusing to obey him. Still, Leon refuses to give in. He continues struggling against his binds, searching for some loose piece, something he can take advantage of. Nothing

"Stage Two activated," says the uncannily monotone voice. As if on cue (which, yeah, it probably is) a loud beep fills the capsule, followed by another wave of the intoxicating pollen. Leon hisses, steadying himself. He's already been exposed to the gas -- or whatever this is, he doesn't need anymore. He draws in several fast breaths, rapidly as he can. He then takes as deep a breath as he can manage, starting from his diaphragm to fill his stomach before letting it expand in his chest. He holds it, starting a mental count. He's trained with holding his breath for extended periods before, a useful skill to have in this line of work, but holding your breath on land is a lot harder than underwater. Without the diving reflex to slow his heartbeat plus his lack of preparation time, Leon estimates he has only about 3 minutes left.

But the machine seemingly had other ideas. Two large metal clamps slam down on his ribs, forcing the breath out of him and securing him further to the chair. He's given no choice but to inhale, coughing and sputtering as he fights to take a lungful of air with his chest unable to fully expand.

"Stage Two completed. Beginning Stage Three," Leon distantly hears, suddenly too dizzy to think. All he can focus on is the intoxicating sweetness of the pollen filling his nose, on how painfully hard hes become, on how restricting and hot his clothes are. As if on command, cool metal of the machine dips down to his stomach, running a blade along the cloth and graciously freeing his erection. He groans, hips instinctively tilting upwards as far as Leon can manage, desperate for friction.

Again, the machine seemingly hears his internal pleas, a small whirl ringing out before he's met with an incredible vibrating warmth around his cock, the sensation alone almost enough to make him cum.

"O-oh fuck--" Leon whines, unable to stop himself. His hips jerk up, gasping as he inhales more of that delicious pollen.

There's another whirl, this time followed by a slick, cold prodding sensation against his ass. He whines, allowing his legs to be spread even further by the machine as the artificial cock slides in. When it begins to vibrate Leon knows hes done for, crying out as he cums, barely registering the high-tech flesh-light sucking every last drop up. Even then it doesn't stop, the dildo continuing to pound into him lazily as it's vibrations intensify. It doesn't stop when he cums again either, it doesn't stop when he's crying, screaming and thrashing against his restraints, brows pulled taught as he whines uselessly in over stimulation. His hips continue to jerk up in time with the flesh-light, body betraying him as he fights to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

Every time he thinks he's finished, that he can't possibly cum again he does, that wonderful pollen filling his lungs and hardening his cock with ease. Gradually Leon finds himself drifting off, having lost track of how many orgasms he's had forced out of him, of how long he's been here. He's stopped caring too. He has no thoughts anymore. No perception of time. No worries. Getting out of here doesn't seem important anymore. This is good. This is right. Leon was made for this.

This is his new home.

[timetravellingkitty]

everytime I drive by the place he used to live I just stare at it until it's out of view

[hotpinkstars]

SEEING YOU TONIGHT....

...it's a bad idea, right?

aventurine x fem! reader - in which you're his ex who, after seeing again, felt a desire to have back.

giyssssssss im feeling motivated to write again i feel great!!!!!!!!!!! busy busy weekend tho so idk how much more i can write hmm... but i'm going based off of song titles now lol. btw i deleted all of my past drafts and requests, so if u want something written, please request a song u want to hear with a character/scenario

exes to whatever is inbetween exes and lovers, one suggestive comment at the end, fem reader

he saw you at the bar last night, and that did it for him.

he knew it was wrong, and he shouldn't feel attracted to you anymore. but oh, the way you shine, how prominent your curves look in that gorgeous white dress. it makes him regret that he ever left you.

but you were thinking the same. he looked older now, he looked like he matured a little bit. you found him really attractive, but you were too ashamed to admit that when your friend prodded at your side, asking you what you were looking at.

you had no choice but to brush her off. she was the one who knew about aventurine, the one who had been there for you during the breakup, and the one who doesn't do anything but shittalk his name when he's brought up. that would be a betrayal to her if you were to give into your thoughts.

soon enough, your friend caught on, a dissapointed look on her face.

"seriously, y/n? why are you staring at him as if you just found the love of your life? do you remember what he put you through???"

she shook you by the shoulders and took you off the dance floor before sitting you down at a booth in the back corner of the building.

"you can't get back with him. you're going to get hurt all over again."

you sighed, understanding where she's coming from. you remember everything, all of the details in perfect order, but still are thinking about approaching him.

a couple hours later, the bar was mostly empty. your friend went home, bored of staying in the same place. you promised her you'd get back safe and not have too many drinks, so she bid you farewell and left.

there were a couple patrons left, mostly just drunkards laying wasted on the bar counters and the tables. but one thing you did notice, is that aventurine never left.

you both made eye contact, accidentally staring for a second too long before you turned your head away and pulled your phone out, pretending to distract yourself.

you soon heard footsteps inching closer to the table you were sitting at. you closed your phone and saw aventurine, leaning over your table, his arms planted on the tabletop for support. he gave you a sly smirk and you just kept looking up at him.

"do you need something?" was the only thing that would leave your mouth in that moment. you tried to tell him to back away, leave you alone, but that wasn't what your heart wanted.

"just came to say hi. i saw your stare all night. you weren't very sneaky."

you weren't really trying to be sneaky at all. this was what you wanted to happen. he knew that better than you did.

he soon cleared his throat to break the silence, before continuing to speak.

"but i won't deny, i was looking at you too. i'm sure we have the same intentions."

you looked away. you're also sure that you have the same intentions- those to hook back up. maybe it would betray your friend, maybe it would betray the people who helped him through the breakup, but you didn't care. you were only thinking about yourself right now. and so was he.

"i'm sure we do, aventurine," you decided not to engage too much, not now. you wanted to see where this conversation went. with a smirk plastered on your face, you continued to speak. "but why me?"

he gave his signature chuckle. you knew why he picked you out of every single woman who filtered through this bar tonight. but you wanted to see how far he'd allow you to take the conversation while answering with honesty.

"well, i already know everything there is to know about you. we're exes, not strangers. and plus, i've never not found you attractive. i'd assume we've both changed and matured over the past couple years, and i don't know if i'll be able to see you again after tonight anyway, so why not take my shot?"

good point. he usually went out for business a lot, and you were on the move a bunch for your work, too. so it was rare that you'd end up in the same place.

"fair enough."

you grabbed the collar of his dress shirt, one you'd grown farmiliar with seeing whenever he'd come home from a long mission, and smashed your lips into his. you don't know what took you over, but it was definitely not your brain thinking.

he didn't pull away. instead, he deepened the kiss, turning it into a full blown makeout. you gasped into his lips before closing your eyes, drowning in the moment. it felt so good to finally be back to him. it felt even better to know that you still have a place in his heart.

the kiss felt like it went on for ages before it was broken apart, a string of saliva connecting you two for a split second before splitting as well. you were shocked and out of breath, unable to do anything but stare at him, a content grin on your face. you snapped out of it after aventurine started to talk once more.

"well, how nice. i'm sticking around for the next couple weeks. meet me back here tomorrow night, same place? maybe we can take it to the sheets."

[212-apricity]

mastermind, part four

idk what happened to this part it literally just disappeared but thank God i had it in my google docs still😜😜

warnings: some violence but not graphic or anything

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

y/n’s pov

“Hello Y/N.”

I look up from my place on the grass where I was tying my shoes.

Oh. Him again.

“Hi, Cormac.” I say with a tight-lipped smile, standing up, and walking over to where I left my broom when I was practising.

Cormac follows me like a lost puppy and says, “So uhm how’ve you been?”

It’s been almost four months of this. He comes over to wherever I am and follows me asking pointless questions about the weather or lessons and it would’ve been fine if he wasn’t making uncomfortable inappropriate jokes in between. It’s December now, nearly time for the Yule Ball and I need to shake Cormac off my tail sometime soon or I'll have no hope of finding a date this year.

“Just fine Cormac, what about you?” I say mindlessly, trying to devise ideas to get him away politely.

“I’m good…would be better with you in my bed though…” he says, smoking at me as I give him a disgusted look and stop walking.

Forget trying to be nice, this guy’s a creep.

“Okay Cormac, let's settle this. What’s all this really about? I mean you’ve been following- no practically stalking me for months now, and if it wasn’t creepy enough without the inappropriate jokes, it sure as hell is now. So what do you actually like me or just want to get in my pants?” I say angrily at him, clutching my broom in my hands so hard, my knuckles turn white.

He looks started by my outburst at first but quickly replies and says, “Uhm no, no! Of course I like you Y/N, I just wanted to know if you had a date for the Yule Ball yet?” with the furrows of my brows he leans forward and speaks lowly to me in a more threatening tone, “Sure would be a shame if the whole school found out the truth about your favourite uncle.”

Sirius? What the fuck?

I push him away, “Get the fuck away from me,” I go to leave before he grabs me by my wrist and speaks again, “Come to the ball with me and I won’t say a word about him to anyone,”

“Cormac let go of me,” I say, struggling in his tightening grip.

“Just say yes. Say yes and I’ll let go and no one will have to hear about your uncle.”

“Get away from me!” I shout at him, stomp on his foot and punch his nose the hardest I could, feeling his bones crunching beneath mine. Or maybe it was both our bones.

I hold my now numb hand and leave him on the empty field holding his bloody nose and groaning while I run straight to the castle.

I run aimlessly for about three minutes, turning every which way not expecting anyone to be out in the hallways at this time,

Everyone would be in lessons right now I think, before, to my surprise, I turn the corner and I’m face to face with Theo.

He takes hold of me from my arms before I collapse into him and looks at me in surprise with a cigarette in between his soft pink lips.

I mumble out a quick ‘Sorry’ and move to leave, maybe go back to my common room to look for Hermione but he stops me before I can go anywhere.

His alarmed eyes and lifted brows look down at the tears on my face and the redness around my wrist and knuckles. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, discarding it on the floor before putting it out with his shoe, takes me gently by the other hand and leads me to the hospital wing.

“Theo, no, I’m fine don’t worry.” I try and reassure him, “I don’t need Madam Pomfrey all over me right now, a potion from Hermione can fix me right up, I promise.”

He ignores me and takes me to an empty bed, telling me to rest my hand and sit still, before moving away to find Madam Pomfrey.

When shes checked me over and given me the right medications, he stares down at me but doesn't say a word until I ask, “What?”.

His reply is cold and quiet, “Who did this to you?”

I try brushing the question off, “Don’t worry about it Theo, I handled it fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” he says, looking down at my bandaged hand, and asks again, “Who did this to you Y/N?”

I sigh before answering, “You promise you won’t do anything illegal?”

“I promise.” he says and I extend my pinky on my good hand towards him. His hard expression softens slightly before he extends his and joins our pinkies together muttering another ‘promise’.

“Cormac. He got mad at me because I didn’t want to go to the ball with him and threatened to tell everyone some things about my family.” I say quietly, looking down.

theo’s pov

I don’t say anything as blood rushes to my head, my knuckles already forming into fists, my jaw clenching and my feet turning around to go find the prick.

“No Theo!’ Y/N says after me, trying to grab my arm and stop me from beating the rat up but I hold her hand as gently as I can and ask her to “Please rest Y/N, I’ll be back soon and I promise I won’t do anything too bad.”

“No Theo, please just drop it, it’s fine.” she tries to reassure me.

“What? No it’s not, first of all, he shouldn’t have touched you in the first place, but to hold you like that and threaten you? He’s begging for it now.” I turn to leave again, trying to find him somewhere in this massive castle, trying to calm down before I remember the look on Y/N’s face and all the anger comes rushing back like an extreme storm wave. Fuck this.

I walk around the castle quickly, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs of the snake until I catch something near the bushes.

“No man, bitch fucked me right over. Broke my nose and everything. But I mean to be fair I do like them feisty if you know what I mean.” I hear his voice like venom before he laughs with his friends.

Before I know it, I’m being pulled away by Mattheo and Draco as Cormac’s friends grab him by his bloody torn shirt. Splatters of his blood are on mine but nowhere near as bad as his.

I had stayed quiet during the whole fight, speaking only with my punches and getting my message across.

A huge crowd has gathered by this point and I’m being assisted to McGonagall’s office by Mattheo and Draco patting me on the back with the teacher in front of us. I know I’ll get detention for a month, maybe two, and probably won’t be able to play Quidditch for a few weeks either but who cares.

It was for her and I don’t regret a fucking thing.

y/n’s pov

I walk down the great dining hall with everyone's eyes on me, whispering things to people around them. More than usual.

I take my usual seat next to Ginny and Hermione and look around at everyone, asking, “What’s going on?”. Ron, Harry and Hermione look at each other awkwardly before Hermione speaks up, “You don’t know what’s happened?”

“No?”

“That boyfriend of yours beat McLaggen up so bad he’s had to go to St. Mungo’s,” Ron speaks up against the silence and my blood turns cold as my stomach flips over.

“What?!” I say, alarmed.

“Yeah mate, everyone saw it… he was ruthless. Didn’t stop until the bloke couldn’t stand up by himself” Harry agrees with Ron as they turn to look at the Slytherin table behind and see Theo talking normally with his friends.

“He deserved it to be fair, I don’t blame Nott for beating him up the way he did.” Hermione says before asking about my hand.

“It’s all fine now, nothing major just a few broken bones.” I say turning my wrist and flexing my fingers before turning to Ron and answering his previous accusation, “And he’s not my boyfriend Ron, he’s just a friend.”

“Yeah well Harry and Cho Chang are friends but you don’t see him going around beating Cedric up.” Ron says stupidly, making Ginny tense up and Hermione glare at him from across the table as I take Ginny’s hand under it.

“Hey Hermione do you have a spare paper and quill?” I ask after we’ve all eaten our dinner and most of the people in the dining hall have cleared off.

“Yes of course, what for?” she asks, pulling a blank piece of paper and quill out of her bag and passing it to me. “I need to send a note.” I say vaguely before scribbling down:

meet me in the astrology tower after curfew.

I pull my wand out of my pocket and perform the paper bird charm, passing the note to Theo on the other side of the hall.

We all watch as he receives it, reads it and looks up at me, and winks. He asks Pansy for a quill and writes back:

See you there darling

I smile, putting the note into my pocket as Hermione squeals at me, Harry smiles and Ron makes a face of throwing up. “And that Ronald, is why you still don’t have a date to the Yule Ball. Speaking of which Harry do you have yours yet?” 

“Yep, I do actually.”

“Oh yeah? Who is it?” Ron asks looking over at Harry. Hermione and I give each other a knowing look as Harry says, “Uhm, I’m not at liberty to say.”

Harry gets up to leave to escape the conversation as Hermione and I laugh after him and Ron trailing not too far behind, pestering Harry and threatening him if it's his sister.

Timeskip

“Hey” I hear a soft deep voice behind me as I stare up at the stars from the tower.

I turn around and find Theo wearing a deep red jumper and red plaid pyjamas, holding two cups of hot chocolate coincidently matching with my red plaid shorts and red jumper with my initial on it, courtesy of Mrs Weasley of course.

We smile at each other as he comes close and asks how my hand is, “All better, see” I flex my hand once again to prove it to him and we sit in silence for a few minutes drinking the hot chocolate he’d gotten from the kitchen.

“So,” he starts slowly sipping his hot chocolate and looking over at me in the dim light, “What did you want to talk about?”

I take a breath before answering, “Why did you do that?”

His eyebrows furrow, “Do what?”

I give him a knowing look and he looks away with a smile in response which drops quickly when thoughts of Cormac come back in his mind. “Guy’s a git. Doesn’t deserve you.” He says plainly bringing the cup to his lips again. I look at him for a minute, observing his long eyelashes and soft skin and look away just when he looks at me.

“Have you got a date to the ball yet?” He says in the comfortable silence.

I look back at him getting lost for a moment in his soft blue eyes. I shake my head in response.

He nods, looking down before downing the rest of his hot chocolate and standing up.

He reaches out a hand towards me and pulls me up from my place on the stairs and says, “Would you go with me if I asked?”

I look up at his eyes once again, seeing a hint of fear behind the blue, “If you asked dickhead.”

He laughs at this, nods and kisses me on the cheek before leaving.

“See you later star.”

“Star?” I say in question, my cheeks burning from his touch.

He doesn’t say a word or turn around, but simply holds out his middle finger, flipping me off which confuses me more until I see the silver ring I made him resting at the bottom of it.

I smile to myself as he walks away, leaving my face flushed and heart swollen.

What am I getting myself into.

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

��� as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home. 

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.  

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too. 

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones. 

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate.  He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other? 

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher. 

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel. 

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung. 

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content. 

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all. 

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop. 

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know. 

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do. 

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces. 

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he? 

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does. 

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do. 

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here. 

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean. 

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do. 

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment. 

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted january 21, 2023]

[hibiscesque]

Hi! Idk if Tumblr does what I—hailing from short-form microblogging sites—call a "threadfic", but here are some thoughts about SKK and Dazai's changing valuation of memories and history through Chuuya I had a couple of months ago and shared on Twitter (approx. 1k words):

Chuuya has many little—ah, the word to use in polite company is probably "eccentricities"—from his time on the streets. He empties the napkin dispenser every time they go for casual food because "You don't get it; they're useful!" He pays exclusively in cash even though he now has an address and more than enough income for a card. He can't fall asleep, never ever, unless his back is to a wall.

Not that Dazai has noticed any of these things of his own free will. It's just that Chuuya had always been so simply infuriating and bold bright BAM! that it was impossible not to pay attention.

But yes, the habits. Habits on habits on habits. Dazai had never really bothered to tease him about them. There were much better things to make fun of him for, like his height, or his Chihuahua-like yappiness, or his insufferably on-the-nose taste in fashion.

There was always one exception to that though: the photographs. The neverending, unassailably omnipresent photographs.

Most people use their phone to text, or play games, or, you know, maybe even make a call or two if they're feeling spicy. Chuuya? He had always almost exclusively used his to take pictures. Pictures of his friends. Pictures of his men. And worst of all, pictures of Dazai.

"For memories," he'd say, scowling and hilariously failing to hold his phone out of Dazai's reach when he went to snatch it away, "So I don't forget."

It's not like Dazai hadn't gotten where this preoccupation came from. He had. It was just that the entire concept of photography had always been stupid to him, if you'd ever asked him. He'd intended to be dead in the near future, so it'd seemed a bit redundant to try and capture memories when he was not going to be here to remember them. 

It somehow, however, apparently, added and will probably continue to add meaning to Chuuya's life. Dazai could never quite wrap his brain around that. He had been searching for a, any kind of, meaning for years, for his whole godforsaken life, and yet Chuuya lives and doesn't even think about that kind of thing. He finds meaning in everything he sees.

He sees a picture of his piano wire friend, and to him, it's a picture of his piano wire friend. Even after the Flags die—after which the frequency of the photos multiply by a factor of ten, by the way—all he sees when he looks at that same photograph is his friend whom he loved and all he is feeling as he looks at it is whatever things people feel when they think about their friend that they loved who is dead.

Dazai had taken one look at that, a candid shot of Piano Man talking to someone offscreen with his hand wrapped around a drink, and had noticed before anything else that he was looking down and to the right. 

Body language isn't an exact science, but if someone is trying to recall a memory, they tend to look down and to the left. Down and to the right is the direction people usually look in when they are trying to imagine something. Whatever Piano Man was telling the person he was talking to, it was probably a lie.

He'd ponder, whenever Chuuya brought out that photo, about what Piano Man may have been lying about. It's not that Dazai frowns upon dishonesty—he is dishonest as a matter of course—it's just that it's strange. Crazy, even. How perspective can change a recollection. How perspective can change anything. He doesn't like how he feels when Chuuya pulls that picture out. Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya, who somehow sees beauty in this photograph, sees beauty in a bunch of pixels on a screen arranged into the shape of a now faintly recalled memory.

Dazai used to wonder, sometimes, how Chuuya had gotten kidnapped by the government for Project Arahabaki in the first place. Not a frequent concern, more like an occasional irritant when he was feeling particularly maudlin. 

Then one day, he'd been walking to Lupin with Odasaku and Ango, and they had found a child, about five, maybe six, wandering the streets by himself. Odasaku, the bleeding heart, had of course approached him and asked him where his mommy was, introducing himself as a dad of five kids himself.

Though Dazai's mother wasn't in much a position to do this considering their lifestyle, he knew it was common advice that mothers gave their children that if they ever got lost, they should go find the nearest mom with kids. And yet this child had looked up at Odasaku, who had given him no proof of his claim at all, with wide, doleful, completely trusting eyes, and raced into his arms, bursting into tears.

The child had had dark hair and eyes, but in that moment, those had not been the colors Dazai was seeing.

They probably hadn't even needed to drug Chuuya, he'd realized. He'd probably put his soft baby hand in his kidnapper's larger, calloused, adult one and walked to his own doom willingly.

And Chuuya, almost ten years later, had done the same thing again when Shirase had stabbed a knife into his kidney. And again now, Chuuya, over ten years late, still loves people with his whole heart. Mourns every loss of life and friendship to its fullest. Had willingly worked with Dazai, the guy who had blown up his whole life when he was fifteen. This way had seemed like a very painful one to live by to Dazai, for the longest time. He'd had an incapability, of sorts, to see beauty in a life where everything you ever love is lost. To understand that there is still meaning in a life in which you have lost.

He thinks he gets it, now. 

[zerobaseonefics]

BLOOMING DAY

blooming day . . . day three

note . . . I FR STRUGGLED TO POST THIS IDK WHY TUMBLR DIDN'T LET ME???? RACIST BEHAVIOR IF YOU ASK ME . anyways 🥰 i've decided i'll try to post at least every friday. hope it's fine by y'all and you will enjoy this new chapter 🫶🏼 ngl the story starts kinda slow but things will get interesting soon 🫡

taglist open <3 (if you want me to add you, send an ask so i can make sure i saw it!!) . . . @cherriegyu @kpoprhia @vhshyk @hikyeom @mins-fins @juyomiao @dwcljh @invuwrld @beomibeom @sulkygyu @lycheae @huipinkhair @luvseok1e @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan @harus-simp @zhounauts @jiaant11 @articxari @jebiwon @mashihope @taerrrrrae @ilovechanhee @ahnneyong @seok02 @honghongbri @justemalove @mposkyje @zhanghaoed

previous day | masterlist | next day

. . . ᥫ᭡ . . .

you really wondered why hanbin followed you on twitter after this. wasn't it clear you rejected him?

"i'm telling you, he likes being humiliated. the fact he deadass bought that bouquet was showing it", yujin said as she took a bite of her lunch.

"a normal person wouldn't try to talk to you again after you rejected them! what is wrong with him?", you said, agreeing with yujin.

"yeah, i really wonder why he would do that..." mashiro added.

in fact, mashiro was lying, she didn't have any questions about this. why? well, she's the one who told him to do so.

mashiro decided to tell her plan to hanbin step by step. her excuse was that she didn't want him to rush things, but the truth is that she had no plan and her idea was just to make things up little by little. plus, she wanted to toy with him a little. wasn't it the reason she was helping him? for her own entertainment?

you slightly jumped when you heard the sound of someone sitting at your table. that day, the cafeteria was kind of empty. it spring and the sun was shining, so people would rather eat outside then there. so, why would anyone seat at your table when there was plenty free ones? mashiro, sitting in front of you, was smiling in a way that meant no good. you watched as xiaoting greeted a boy you didn't know.

"it's been a while, hao!"

"i know!! since there's place at your table, i kinda dragged the boys so i could eat with you."

you frowned. the boys? zhang hao? you turned to see who just sat next to you, only to find hanbin. at first, you brain didn't get the information right, so you just went back to eating. however, when the realization hit you, your eyes widened. now you remember! xiaoting's close childhood friend is zhang hao. and you knew about hao and hanbin's relationship...

"hey", hanbin simply said with a fresh smile.

"why aren't you sitting next to hao?"

"because he's talking to xiaoting and i'll feel left out... and i'd rather sit next to you if i have the occasion to."

chaehyun coughed to hide the fact she was trying not to laugh at the scene taking place in front of her. you looked horrified and it was hard not to laugh at the face you were making.

"why would you suddenly come to eat lunch with us?" you asked hanbin.

"well, you know hao and xiaoting are good friends. he just wanted to hang out with her for a bit. he's kinda busy these days so he doesn't get the occasion to see her much. i guess he's gonna use the lunch time to stay with her more..."

it was all lies. well, only partly. sure, hao missed his friend, but he had plenty of time to see her only together. he was not busy at all. hanbin used him as an excuse to fulfill mashiro's plan.

after they all finished eating, hao was the first one to stand up to announce him and the other boys were leaving. your suspicious eyes followed the group as they were leaving the cafeteria, and you saw hanbin's arm sneaking around the chinese boy's waist. you rolled your eyes. you turned your attention to xiaoting, who was peacefully finishing her lunch.

"xiaoting."

"yes?"

"you're very close to hao, right?"

"yes! i've known him for years now, and our families are pretty close."

"and when do you plan on telling him that his boyfriend is cheating on him?"

the girls sitting around the table with you were shocked.

"hao has a boyfriend?" chaehyun asked.

"and he's cheating on him..?" yujin added, not sure of where that information came from.

"what are you talking about?" xiaoting genuinely asked.

"hanbin! you know he was flirting with me! that's one of the main reasons why i hate him, he's dating zhang hao at the same time."

xiaoting rested her face in her hands, sighing heavily. she was exhausted at how dumb you are. yujin's eyes were going to you, then back at xiaoting, then back at you again. she was just waiting for one of you to add something.

"y/n, hao and hanbin are not dating."

[nonclassyparty]

man with the plan (j.wy) - chapter 2.

Summary: "Don't forget Pretty, I'm serving life plus one. So if I get busted for attempted escape, I'll throw in a homicide in there as well with no problem, that’s like a parking ticket to me." When your brother ends up in jail for a murder he didn't commit, the only thing left for you to do is to find a way to break him out. But after a perfect plan is set in motion, you don't expect a romantic variable to get added into the equation.

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem. reader, jeong yunho x reader (but if u squint)

Status: in progress

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: idk for this one, still some cursing, nothing too heavy

Taglist: @tinyjuni @hazysan @atinytinaa @tenebrisirae @doggopepper @dazzlingstarrs @lavishloving @cherrypandora @silentcry329 @jeagerist-20 @myunvillage @manipulatedstars @bitteryu @maru-matt @bubbleteakittyy @joonsthethicc

A/N: hi guys! welcome to chapter 2 of man with the plan....i don't really have anything to say so enjoy lmfao!! wait i do!! if u find any plot holes LITERALLY do not tell me i don't want to know kjfgjkdfhgjkf

my main masterlist // playlist // moodboard // ao3

chapter 1 // masterlist // chapter 3

Chapter 2; How’d I get here, sitting next to you?

The sun is high up in the sky by the time you're walking across the gravel, eyes combing through the yard filled out with men in blue prisoner uniforms. The October air embraces you, it's still chilly despite it nearing noon now but the little bit of sunshine makes the whole place feel more alive and less eerie.

"Hello." You greet, a couple of feet away from the wired fence stopping to stand behind a man occupying an empty lone bench with a Calico cat gently held in his arms that he strokes as he watches out at the yard.

He turns to look over his shoulder, faint surprise etched across his features. His dark hair almost covers his eyes, "Hello."

You sniffle, giving him a faint smile, "You're Park Seonghwa, aren't you?"

His eyes scan you from head to toe, not in a lewd matter whatsoever, but more so in curiosity. "Yes."

His voice is gentle. In fact, the man looks entirely misplaced in an environment like this with his soft and pretty-like features. Not to mention the pet.

"I knew your older sister." You tell him, noticing the way his eyes sadden a little at the mention of his older sibling that passed away a couple of months back from lung cancer. 

And well! You didn't exactly get to know her by accident, you purposefully sought her out but Seonghwa here doesn't need to know that.

He pursues his lips, turning to face the yard again and giving you his back, "You knew Nayeon?"

You cock your head to the side, "You mean Sooyoung? Yes, we were members of the same book club. The one in our neighbourhood."

"Ah, the one in Myeongdong." He comments with a nod and your lips quirk up.

"You mean the one in Seongsu-dong? Yes." You bounce right back to him and finally, he turns to look at you again with his own mouth pulling up in an intrigued smile.

"Alright, no more quizzes." He slides around the bench, turning to face you fully with the cat still in his arms, his thumb running across it's head, "What do you want?"

You throw a glance behind you just to notice that there are no guards around before nodding towards the Calico in his lap, "How do they allow you to have it in here?"

"She's not an it, her name is Mijoo." Seonghwa says protectively holding the cat against his chest, "And she's a comfort pet, they allow us to have one or two of those. Only to the ones who are on their best behavior in here, though."

Ah, so he's a goody two-shoes.

You nod with a hum and Seonghwa's eyes leave the cat, Mijoo, as he picks his head up to look at you, "Now you answer my question, what do you want?"

You chuckle, mouth pulling up in a grin as you look to the side in little embarrassment before bringing your attention back to him, "I heard you were Park Ha-ru."

Now, it's Seonghwa's turn to chuckle, "You know, every time they bring a new con in here, he'll approach me and ask the same question," He tilts his head, "Why do you want to know though? Who even are you?"

"I'm Y/N," You motion to the rubble and workers on the other side of the compound, "New supervisor of the construction site."

"Ah," He eyes the building site over your shoulder before looking at you again, "This isn't exactly the place for you, y'know? Surely you must've known that before taking the job and I don't think any boss would be cruel enough to send a young woman to supervise a construction site at a level one prison."

You smile, "I volunteered."

He seems peeved by your response, brows furrowed in deep concentration as he looks you over before sighing.

"Well, I'll tell you the same thing I told everyone else," Seonghwa pursues his lips before placing a small kiss on Mijoo's head, "I'm not him."

Your stomach feels like it's in knots as you stare at him, looking for any signs of dishonesty. Either Park Seonghwa is one hell of a liar or...he just isn't the guy. 

...and you got it all wrong.

You think you'll go with option number one, simply to save your brain from going in overdrive with panic. He has to be the one.

"That's too bad," You sigh with a small shrug, smiling, "It would've been kind of cool if you were."

He laughs at that, "Trust me, no-one is more sad about that than me." Seonghwa snorts, eyes squinting from the sun as he stares up at you from the bench, "Having 1.6 billion won hidden somewhere, waiting for me to get out so I could claim it. Unfortunately, all I have is a re-modelled basement in my parents' house and a shitty car waiting for me when I get out."

You chuckle with a nod as your eyes fall to the grass below your boots, "Right."

"Sorry to disappoint." He adds quietly, eyes burning into your profile.

You shake your head with a smirk, "Didn't disappoint." Taking a couple of steps further back when you notice a guard appearing on the other corner of the fence, "It was nice talking to you, Seonghwa."

You know he's puzzled by you, it's easy to read his face but he doesn't voice it, simply nods. "You too."

You walk up the gravel with your hands dug deep into the pockets of your coat until you near the entrance of the building and let out a low groan, remembering you had an appointment with the warden to help him out with the present for his dear wife.

-

The buzzer followed up by the sound of the door opening and feet shuffling in causes you to look up from the surface of the table in front of you. 

Two guards lead Jongho towards you and cuff him to the table, as per usual. He looks like he's gaining some muscle in there, the color of his cheeks is back and hair is shorter but other than that, he looks like the same old Jongho. The only difference is that your brother looks at you like he's about to give you the scolding of a lifetime.

You're both silent, Jongho cranes his neck subtly to watch the guards walk back to the other side of the room before turning towards you, looking absolutely furious.

"Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?" Jongho hisses out, leaning close to the glass separating the two of you.

You let out a small huff, innocently looking around the room. A full row of glass windows with inmates on one side of the glass with their families on the other surrounded the both of you.

"I don't know what you mean." You tell your brother in a relaxed manner, watching his eyes fall shut in frustration at your purposeful denseness.

"Drop the bullshit." Jongho commands you in a low tone, eyes set in a glare. Except there's no anger in his words but worry, "Whatever it is that you're doing, just stop."

You press your lips together, placing your trembling hands in your lap. "I can't do that."

Your brother watches you in confusion through the glass, mouth lightly hanging open as he shakes his head at you, wondering what you've gotten yourself into.

"Jongho, I only have ten minutes so you need to shut the fuck up and listen to me now." You lean closer to tell him in a whisper, glancing over his shoulder to check on the guards who were still by the wall on the other side. There were too many ears surrounding you even without any wires in the visitations room but you knew Jongho well enough to know that he won't budge until you throw him a bone, so you'll have to speak in your little code praying that he will understand; "Jay is leaving soon."

Complete and utter confusion clouds Jongho's face as he leans even closer, nose touching the glass as he stares at you with furrowed brows.

You bite back on your frustration, "Jay, you remember him?" 

"Jay? You mean m-"  Your brother finally remembers the nickname you had for him when you were a mere child.

"Yes. He's leaving soon. The foster home he's been stuck in, well, they told me the conditions are just terrible," You explain with a soft chuckle while Jongho hangs onto every word that leaves your mouth, you glance to your side where another visitor sits just a couple of inches away conversing with an inmate, "So he's getting out of there."

It takes a second for the words to sink in before the confusion on his face is erased completely and replaced by disbelief.

"Jongho, do you understand?"

He's silent for a short moment, swallowing nervously before his eyes meet yours again, "I understand but...but Y/N, that's impossible."

You give your brother a comforting smile, "Not if you designed the place it isn't."

Jongho's eyes grow wide as saucers, "You're break-"

"Shut up." His mouth clamps shut immediately. "There's no other way."

"Y/N-" Your brother starts again, voice lower but you're too busy noticing that the woman next to you is standing up and with that, the tables on both of your sides will be empty. You lean as close to him you can get with the glass serving as a barrier between the two of you.

"I only have three minutes left, so listen to me." You tell him and he opens his mouth again to interject but you're quicker. The guards are by the wall, unmoving, it's only a matter of time before someone occupies the empty seats. You whisper to him, "The benches in the yard, they have a certain type of bolt in them that you'll need. Use a quarter to unscrew it, you only need one and for fuck's sake, make sure no-one sees you doing it."

"Wait, you're actually serious about this."

You suck in a sharp breath, swearing that if there wasn't the glass in front of you, you would've slapped him by now. "Well, I'm not exactly on vacation here Jongho, trust me."

He looks positively bamboozled.

"Do you understand what we need?" He needs a second before quickly nodding, you nod back, "Good, now tell me, your new cellmate..."

Jongho scoffs with an eyeroll, "It's some guy named Coin. A pain in my ass is what he is."

"Coin?" You question in confusion at the stupid name before quickly shaking his head, "Doesn't matter, can you trust him?"

"Trust who? Coin?" Jongho looks like you've grown a second head before explaining. "If you sewed the guy's mouth shut, he'd find a way to talk through his ass. A thief from what I heard, robbed a liquor store armed and ended up here." He eyes you, "Why do you wanna know so much about my cellmates anyway?"

"Because it won't work without your cellmate. We need him." You whisper back, eyes on the clock as the time ticks away. A minute left.

"There's no way to trust anyone in here, let alone him." Your brother comments lowly. Your eyes fall to the surface of the table in thought before you sigh. He looks at you like you've grown a second head, "You want me to tell him?"

You press your forehead against the glass separating you, the surface cool on your skin as you murmur, "If your cellmate isn't on board, there's no digging and if there's no digging then there's no getting out of here."

"I tell Coin, he'll yapp his mouth off to the rest and then it's over." Jongho mutters back, face set in carefully disguised panic.

"Well, it's just going to have to be a leap of faith then." You mutter to yourself before looking up at him, "Find out if you can trust him first and get the...thing from the yard," You glance at the guards by the door one last time, "I'll tell you what to do next but please, just be careful."

You don't want to even imagine what would happen to him if he were to get caught.

"Y/N, this is too dangerous, you can end up in tr-"

"Don't. Get. Caught." Is the last thing you say before your ten minutes are up and you're standing up from the chair, sparing your brother one last glance before heading towards the exit.

-

You swing your legs lightly from the chair as you watch Doctor Jung write something down behind his desk before he slides on his rolly chair over to you, getting so close that your knees almost brush.

He gives you a playful smile, cocking his head back a little to look at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You went to SNU."

You smile, rolling up the sleeve on your left arm and holding it out for him, "You've been checking up on me."

He shrugs at your comment, rubbing the soaked cotton ball over your arm with one hand while holding the needle in the other, "I like to get to know my patients, I graduated from there three years before you."

Your eyes are on the floor, not being able to stand the sight of him sinking the needle into your arm. You try not to think about it, instead focus on his devastatingly handsome face as you give him a quick smile, "Maybe we met before. Drunk, at a bar somewhere."

"Doubt it." Doctor Jung responds, you can feel him pulling the needle out and placing a clean cotton ball on your arm for you to hold, which you do. "I'm sure I would've remembered you."

Your brow ticks up as a flirty grin makes way to your face, "That a compliment?"

He glances at you, a smile of his own growing on his lips and if your eyes don't deceive you, a flush on his cheeks, "It is if you want it to be."

You just hum in response, gaze not backing away from his face that it makes him squirm and he stands up with a flustered cough. Your smile grows.

Too easy.

"Sit there for a little bit, I'll get your blood tests, they came from the lab an hour ago." He tells you, already heading to the door and refusing to look at you.

Cute.

The moment he disappears from view, you throw the cotton ball on the table next to you and walk over to the drain, pulling out two tubes and hurriedly squeezing out their contents through the slates on the grate.

The smell is strong but the sizzling is immediate and you shove the empty tubes back into the inner pockets of your blazer before sitting down on the chair the handsome doctor left you in.

You glance down at your arm where you placed back the cotton pad, staring at the small bottle inked onto your skin with the words 'Cute Poison' hanging above it.

Cute Poison, rather a mnemonic for copper sulfate and phosphoric acid that you carefully poured into two empty toothpaste tubes the night before in your own bathroom should get the job done as soon as the good doctor here confirms that you are, in fact, diabetic and need daily shots. 

You did a lot of research on it in the months of preparation, never been much of a chemist.

But you did know one thing, when these two chemicals are mixed together, they will react violently and corrode metal.

You cast one last glance at water drainage under the sink before your attention is snatched away by Doctor Jung walking into the room with a clipboard.

He sits down on the same chair in front of you, flipping through the papers on it.

"Hmmm." He lets out and you bring your gaze from the floor over to him where he sits with his brows furrowed as he reads off of the papers.

"What?" You ask, trying not to seem too tense although the way your foot kicks up and down might give you away.

"Your blood glucose is at fifty milligrams per deciliter." Wooyoung says in mild confusion and maybe concern.

"So?" You question obtusely, playing dense being the better option in a situation like this despite knowing exactly what it means. But you're already feeling your heartbeat accelerate at the fact that the pills weren't fucking working.

Why weren't they working? You took one this morning before leaving. Did they need more time to kick in?

Your palms are already starting to sweat.

 "Your body's reacting to the insulin as though you're not a diabetic. Are you sure it's Type 1 Diabetes you got?" He voices out with his attention on you.

You nod with lips pressed together before calmly answering; "Ever since I was a kid."

"Alright." He looks down to the chart again, "And you're not experiencing any tingling sensations, cold sweats?"

You silently shake your head with a sheepish smile, the shaky hand gripping the bottom of the chair you're sitting on.

Wooyoung takes a moment to go through the papers again before the ringing of the phone on his desk cuts through the silence (and your inner panic). He stands up to get it but not before turning to you;

"I'd like to run some tests the next time you're in." Wooyoung informs you with his lips folded in a pout that you think comes naturally to him when he's serious. He might not even be aware of it. Cute. But you're in deep shit, you don't have the time to think about that. "The last thing I want is to be administering insulin to a girl who doesn't need it."

You feign a smile as you stand up as well, "Yeah, sure."

He takes a moment to gauge your face again but the phone keeps ringing. The doctor sighs, glancing at it, "Okay."

You head for the door and towards your small, cramped office feeling utterly worried.

Once you reach your office, you close the door shut and stare at your hand that shakes uncontrollably. If the pills, PUGNAC, didn't work and he discovers that you're not diabetic, the whole plan falls through.

No, no, no. You can't think like that Y/N, you tell yourself, have a little faith.

The guy who got them for you said that they were insulin blockers, the real deal.

So they're supposed to work but maybe they need more time. Wooyoung gave you your first shot three days ago, that's when you started to take the pills each morning. 

Maybe they needed more time to kick in.

They'll work.

They have to.

-

Hongjoong deemed himself as a fairly smart guy.

Sure, he was in prison currently serving two life sentences but he did manage to get away with his crimes for years on years before he eventually and inevitably got caught, that had to count for something, right?

So, yes, Hongjoong was a smart guy.

Which is exactly why the moment they walked him into the visitations room and sat him down in front of a complete stranger when usually, only Jeongin would visit him, Hongjoong knew that something was brewing.

He stays quiet, eyeing the guy who seems to be about his age as the guard cuffs him to the table and Hongjoong sighs in annoyance, so many unnecessary precautions. Where the hell would he even go if he tried to run from here?

The moment the guard steps further away, Hongjoong turns to the stranger.

"Who the fuck are you?" Hongjoong stares at the man's face, trying to gauge if he might know him from somewhere but when he comes up blank, he waits for the man's response.

"I'm just here to deliver a message to you Mr. Kim." The man answers, he's in a suit and tie, all perfectly ironed, hair brushed back and an expensive watch hanging from his wrist. 

If anyone else were to see him, they'd probably think he worked a cozy office job and drank scotch like a pretentious fuck when he visited bars but Hongjoong can recognize a thug when he sees one.

"I'm not taking any messages, thanks." Hongjoong dryly responds, already moving to call the guard over before he gets stopped by the man's voice again.

"You might want to take this message." Hongjoong freezes in place when he sees the photo the guy presses to the glass and it causes him to sit his ass back down on the chair once again.

Thrilled, he leans in closer, observing the photo, eyes stuck on the familiar face that's been plaguing his mind for the last four years.

"Gunwoo..." Hongjoong mutters to himself, eyeing the familiar man in the photo before turning his attention back to the stranger, "You know where he is."

"I don't." The stranger responds and Hongjoong almost deflates about to curse him out until the man continues, "But the person who sent me here, does."

That puzzles Hongjoong and he stays quiet, deep in thought for a long moment. "What do you want? I don't have time for games."

Well, that was a lie. He had two life sentences worth of time but he just wasn't in the mood right now.

"The person who sent me here told me to pass on a message which is that you should speak to Choi Jongho."

Hongjoong frowns at that, growing perpetually more confused the more he sits here.

Choi Jongho was brought in a little over a year ago, Hongjoong remembers it well. 

It's hard to forget a kid that killed the Vice President's brother in cold blood. It was all over the news, spread even through the prison like wildfire among the guards. He was the talk of town when they first brought him into his cell.

But once everyone realized that he was kind of boring, just sticking to his cell and one and the same corner of the yard, everyone slowly forgot about him. He didn't do much of anything else to remain remembered, just a guy that killed someone and was now serving life.

Guys like that are a dime a dozen in here.

So why the hell was someone sending him a message to speak to Choi Jongho?

"And Choi knows where Gunwoo is?" Hongjoong asks. Finding Gunwoo was the most important thing for now, he honestly couldn't care less how he'd have to get that information out of anyone.

Let alone Choi Jongho. If he knew where Gunwoo was, Hongjoong wouldn't even try to play whatever game someone wants him to, just ten minutes alone with him during P.I. time and a pair of claw scissors and Hongjoong would get what he wants out of him.

"No." The stranger responds and Hongjoong has to bite back another groan, growing more pissed off by the second.

"Then what?" He snaps back, eyes set in a glare as his patience starts getting tested. "Who knows?"

"The same person who sent me here and is pulling my own strings." The stranger remarks with his lips pursued as if he's nervous. 

He should be, Hongjoong thinks because if he finds out that all of this is a scam he'll make sure his people find this man.

"When you go up to talk to Choi Jongho, you need to give him something."

Hongjoong can't believe what he's hearing. What the hell is he supposed to give him? Money? For information Choi apparently doesn't have?

"What?" He asks bluntly, agitated.

The man places something on the table in front of him and Hongjoong peers at the small object through the glass before letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

-

Gato was snoring obnoxiously on the lower bunk and it felt like someone was grating Hongjoong's nerves as he leaned against the bars of the cell, peering up and down the long two floors of identical cells until his eyes stopped on a specific one.

Choi Jongho mimicked Hongjoong's position in his own cell on the upper floor opposite of him. His hands hanging from the bar as he stares through the bars to the lower floor, eyes empty and unfocused.

Hongjoong spent the rest of the time in the yard after visitation observing Choi, wanting to see if the younger man would do anything, give him some sort of signal, something. But the kid didn't so much as glance at him. Only kept to his little corner of the yard with his obnoxiously loud cellmate hanging around him.

Did Choi Jongho even know Hongjoong was told to approach him?

Hongjoong stared at the kid's face, his dark hair was curling around his ears and he'd look younger than he actually was if it wasn't for the obvious muscle he was packing under his sweatshirt.

"I should also warn you that if anything were to happen to Choi Jongho...or myself after this visit is over, you'll never find out where Gunwoo is." The stranger discloses and Hongjoong wants to let out a laugh.

"Like I give a fuck, I'm already serving life plus one man, I don't care for Gunwoo." That was a lie but he got caught red handed, Hongjoong's first plan was most definitely to hurt Choi for information.

"I think you have much more at stake here Mr. Kim considering that if Gunwoo testifies, your family hidden in Osaka would be left vulnerable and all the assets that allow them to live lavishly while you're in here would disappear. Isn't that why you're trying to find him in the first place? So all the enemies you've made over the years don't target your loved ones." Hongjoong's face drops and he raises his arm to slap the glass in front of him but before his anger could get the best of him, he leans in closer to the man sitting opposite of him.

"Who are you?" Hongjoong hisses, cheeks flushing in anger as he glares down the stranger.

"I told you already, I'm just someone sent in here with orders to talk to you."

Hongjoong inhales a deep breath, getting tired of playing this silly game.

"I have the people to find Gunwoo myself. I don't need anyone else playing detective for me in exchange for whatever it is they want." Hongjoong states with his arms crossed, not being used to anyone seeing him with his defenses down. Playing the one not in charge was never his forte.

"That may be but whoever is pulling my strings isn't just offering Gunwoo's location." The stranger voices out, leaning in closer to the glass window with a glint in his eye, "They're offering you an opportunity to get Gunwoo yourself."

And well, that definitely peaked Hongjoong's interest.

Hongjoong kicks Gato's leg which immediately stirs him from deep sleep and causes the bigger man to open his eyes. "Wake up, knucklehead."

"What, boss?" The man asks in a gruff voice, lightly sitting up on the uncomfortable bunk bed.

Hongjoong really can't believe that he's about to ask this, as he turns to his cellmate holding out a piece of paper.

"What do you know about making dove origamis?"

-

Your nerves were skyrocketing as you walked down the hallway leading to the infirmary, remembering that the good doctor was supposed to run "some tests" today as he promised during your last visit. 

You were an optimist by nature, always holding onto the last shred of faith no matter how miniscule it was but your brain couldn't help but taunt you, what if the pills didn't work this time either? What if you got the wrong prescription? What if...

Hence the nerves.

"Hello." You greet quietly, walking into the room where Doctor Jung was already sitting with a kit prepared in front of him. 

"How are we doing today, Miss Y/N?" He asks casually, motioning for you to sit on the usual chair in front of him.

Immediately, you find your way over there and plop down on the chair, "I'm good."

He looks at you with a faint smile, honey skin looking healthy and smooth under the sunshine beaming through the infirmary windows. "Everything good on the construction site?"

You barely register his question, too busy watching as he takes your index finger and swabs it, getting ready to administer the test.

"Uh, yeah." You respond distractedly, the fact that needles made you queasy didn't exactly help calm the nerves.

 He gives you a weird look, probably expecting a flirty response but you weren't in the mood today. What happened next could make or break the plan you've spent the last year making and you can only watch as he punctures the skin, drawing blood and applies a testing pad to take the blood from your finger.

You observe his actions, clearing your throat. "How long does this take?" "It used to take hours, but we've come a long way with the new glucose kits. This'll take us about ten seconds."  Doctor Jung explains with ease and you look away in apprehension when he continues to speak; "Slide this strip into the meter then we're ready to go." After he places the strip into the meter, he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm sure you know this but, the average glucose for a non-diabetic is about one hundred milligrams per deciliter. We see a number like that here and we know you've been misdiagnosed."

You're starting to feel ill. What's even worse, you probably look ill. But you can't help but fidget around, scratching the inside of your sweaty palm as you turn your head to glance at the grate under the sink.

You could feel blood rush to your head the more you think about what the hell you were to do if the diabetic excuse fell through. With a soft sigh, you bring a hand up to rub your temple out of habit.  "You seem nervous." Doctor Jung softly remarks, bringing your attention back to the fact that he can see you. Can notice you quietly losing your shit.

How the hell do you fix that?

Turn on the charm again, Y/N. It doesn't matter if you're pale as a ghost. He likes you. Your lips perk up and eyebrows raise in an act of amused surprise, you hope your face is at least a little bit distracting enough for him to let it go, "I do?" To your surprise and chagrin, he doesn't bat an eye though, "You're sweating." You shake your head, mouth pulled in a sheepish smile, "Must be the needles. Never got used to them." The beep of the meter brings your full focus from Wooyoung to the meter itself. "Somehow, with diabetes and that tattoo, I find that hard to believe." He comments quietly and it sends a zap through you, your weird behavior undoubtedly will be raising suspicion if you don't get it together. It also might be harder to have the good doctor wrapped around your finger than you thought. You pull the sleeve of your shirt down to cover your tattooed arm.

Wooyoung takes the meter, reading the results off of it as you straighten up in your chair.

 "Ah. Bad news I'm afraid." You hold your breath, feeling like your heart is in your throat when he turns the meter towards you with his lips pressed together. "One hundred and eighty milligrams per deciliter. You are definitely diabetic."

Relief floods your body with such strength that you seem to forget yourself in front of him as you try to suppress the huge smile threatening to take over your features that you have to lower your gaze to your lap. They worked. The pills finally worked.

But then you feel his curious eyes on you and you quickly straighten out in the chair again. Doctor Jung looks at you with brows slightly furrowed in obvious puzzlement as to why someone would look so happy to find out they are in fact diabetic and you figure that you need to leave immediately. "Do you need anything else from me?" You ask, suddenly feeling rejuvenated and he looks perplexed as he shakes his head at you. "Just an arm to stick a needle in."  You give him a big smile, nodding and getting up. "Okay."

But just as you're about to reach the door you slow down in your steps; the way he was looking at you, the curiosity not sitting too well with you. Because you know there will be a time when you will have to do questionable things, if something simple as this test raised suspicion then there was no hope in the long run.

You had to gain at least a sliver of his trust, grow some type of bond between the two of you where you could act a little foolish and he'd look past it without second thought because he didn't consider you to be a danger of any kind.

Only way to do that though was something you weren't awfully good at; being vulnerable.

You clear your throat, turning to him again to see Wooyoung already going through another pile of papers.

"I am scared of them. Needles." You tell him truthfully, probably the first truth you told him ever since you meet him a week ago. He looks up from the papers in surprise that you're still in the infirmary with him, his hair falling into his face that he has to run a hand through it to get it out of the way.

Wooyoung stays silent, brows stitching together and it's obvious he doesn't quite buy it as he glances down at your tattoos. The thing is, he doesn't know why you're lying but he knows that you are.

Which is a problem in itself.

You follow his eyes that are still stuck on your bare arm as the sleeves of your button up are rolled up to your elbows. You chuckle, folding your hands behind your back to hide them from view.

"It's not the same with the tattoos." You tell him and for the first time around him because you're feeling a little stupid since you can't explain yourself, you blush. "I don't know how but...I mean I think it has something to do with the veins and holding my hands out like this-" You stretch out your arms so your veins are showcased, "It makes me feel at unease."

Wooyoung listens to you carefully, papers long forgotten as he sits at the edge of the table.

"That's the most textbook example of how someone with trypanophobia would feel." He voices out, his attention entirely devoted to you that it makes you slightly shift on your feet. As much as you enjoy his eyes on you, they also make you equally as nervous.

"Huh," You chuckle, glancing away with your lips pressed together in discomfort under his dissecting gaze.

"Well, at least you know that you could never be a junkie." He adds in a lighthearted tone that you almost miss the way the smile doesn't entirely reach his eyes. Almost.

"Right." You chuckle, taking a step back as you deem the conversation to be over. You send him a small wave as you head for the door.

"See you tomorrow." He calls after you and you just keep walking without looking back.

-

When you walk out into the cold morning air the next morning on your way to the construction site, your head instinctively turns towards the yard where the inmates were already released to and spot a familiar figure lingering near the fence closest to you.

Jongho straightens out with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of the same jacket everyone else in the yard is wearing when he sees you walk out of the building and you inconspicuously glance around for any guards.

Once you realize that there aren't any in the vicinity nearby, you make your way across the gravel towards him.

"That outfit really highlights your figure, bro." Is the first thing you tell him with a teasing smirk as you stop to stand in front of him. He chuckles but it has no humor as he looks over his shoulder before turning to you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm not here to discuss prison fashion." He mutters with an eyeroll but you can see a glimpse of an amused smile threatening to pull on his face and your chest warms at the sight. "Listen, I got what you asked for."

He pats the right pocket of his pants subtly where you presume he's hidden the bolt and you nod in approval.

"You really meant what you said, huh?" Jongho asks again, referencing your last visit and you let out another huff of disbelief that he didn't take you as seriously as you hoped he would.

"I already told you, I'm not here on vacation."

He stares at you for a silent moment before clearing his throat, glancing over his shoulder to make sure there's still no-one around to listen in.

"Whatever you got going on, fill me in because I'm still in the dark here." He expresses quietly, eyebrows pushed together as he waits for a response. You sigh.

"Lim and Associates got the contract to retro this place in ninety nine. Four billion dollar contract, head partner couldn't crack it, so he subcontracted out. An under the table sort of deal with a former associate." You quietly explain, turning to stand sideways in front of him to not seem too suspicious while still being able to be on lookout for any guards that might be watching you. 

Although that doesn't seem to be a problem since, with the exception of the officers stationed on the four towers surrounding the compound, most of them are still having their morning coffee in the break room.

 "That guy was one of the partners in my firm. We basically ghostwrote the plan, crossed the t's, dotted the I's, grouted the tiles." You tell him, lips perking up in satisfaction as you watch him digest the information. 

Jongho seems confused as he digests the new information, probably trying to connect what that has anything to do with your current situation of supervising a construction site while planning a detailed prison escape.

"You've seen the blueprints." He concludes before his face turns serious, "If anyone finds out you have copies of them, you'll be in deep shit. They can report you for missing documents at work, Y/N-"

You snort, "They won't find them because I don't have them on paper anywhere."

His brows furrow, "You memorized them?"

"Better than that," You disclose, subtly pulling the sleeve of your coat and shirt underneath to show him your inked arm, "I have them on me."

Jongho stares at the tattoo's lining your forearm with wide eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He hisses, glancing over his shoulder again. You imagine that you always have to be on guard in a place like this. "Am I supposed to be seeing something there?"

"Don't worry about that." You calmly respond, tugging your sleeves down before shoving your hands back into the pockets of your coat, "Your cellmate...how well do you know him?"

"Ah, as well as a man can get to know another man in a week." Jongho sighs, head turning in the direction of a tall guy huddled on the bench conversing with a couple of others. You observe him in curiosity, guessing that's your brother's roommate, watching as the guy glances in Jongho's direction before his eyes stop on you. "We can trust him."

He doesn't look much older than Jongho, you can't gauge his features that well from this distance especially with his dark fringe covering his forehead obstructing his eyes from view.

The guy, Coin, nods at you.

"At first I thought it was a lost cause, he has eighteen months left in here." Jongho states making you turn to him in concern that his cellmate wouldn't want in. If he got caught, he'd be adding years to his sentence. Jongho was already serving life but others weren't, they could lose more than they could possibly gain if they got caught. Jongho grins, "But then he found out his cousin is making a move on his girl the other day and getting out of here become his priority."

You scoff, hiding a smile as you mutter, "Men."

You return Coin's subtle nod and he immediately glances away, like he never even saw you.

"Also," Jongho shuffles through the pockets of his jacket again before he pulls out a small paper object. An origami dove. He glances to somewhere on the yard and you follow his gaze when it stops on a two toned head of hair sitting at what seems to be a usual bench for him and his cronies. "Kim?"

"Ah," You chuckle, not being able to hide a smile as your eyes fly back to your brother who seems peeved by your reaction, "He got my message."

"Y/N, being involved with that guy can't be a good idea. He's crazy." Jongho comments, frustration clear as day on his face.

"Maybe but he's your express ticket out of here." You calmly voice out, glancing at the guards room to make sure the door remained shut.

"How?"

"You ever heard of Top Flight Charters?" You ask him, shivering lightly in the cold air as you watch a group of inmates play basketball on the small makeshift court of the yard.

"Yeah." Jongho nods, confused.

"They operate flights from small air fields. Like the one ten miles from here. They're run by a shell company Kim Hongjoong owns." You explain to him, inching closer to the fence, "We get him on board there's going to be a midnight flight waiting for you the night you get outside those walls."

"You're willing to risk the entire escape on a guy you don't even know?" He hisses, hands curling around the wired fence.

You sigh, "Preparation can only take you so far, Jongho." You tell him, looking up at the Correction Officers stationed on the tower behind his back, "After that you just have to take a few leaps of faith."

Jongho chuckles in disbelief, acting as if you're not understanding the weight of the situation, "Kim is a huge leap of faith, Y/N."

You nod once again, understanding that completely, "Definitely but apart from fixing you a flight, he also runs P.I. Tell him to give you and your new roommate a job there."

"P.I....Prison Industries?" He questions and you nod, glancing over your shoulder to check the guards room once again.

Jongho stays quiet, seemingly lost in his thoughts and you give him some time as your eyes scope out the yard once again.

"Y'know, getting out of here is just the beginning." He utters, "We're gonna need money if we plan on disappearing."

Your head turns to where Park Seonghwa sits, his cat Mijoo nestled in his lap as he softly strokes her. "I'm working on it."

"They'll come for you as well, you do know that right?"

You meet his gaze straight on. "Of course I know that."

That seems to make something shift on Jongho's face, something heavy appearing in his eyes. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do this?" Your brother asks, sad expression on his face as he presses his lips together in anguish, "You're throwing away your life, everything you worked so hard for all these years."

Your eyes start to burn as you clench your jaw, anger burning your insides at his question, acting like he's not your only family. Like he didn't raise you. "I wouldn't have any of it if it wasn't for you so don't ask me stupid fucking questions. You're my brother."

Jongho seems to understand your feelings, his own eyes misting over before he nods, gaze falling down to the soft grass below his feet, seemingly giving up on talking you out of this, "So...what now? What should I do next?"

You clear your throat, "Tell Kim to hire you and your cellmate at P.I. first, he should know what for by now but if he asks anything or tries to do something to hurt you, mention 7th March of next year. He'll understand. It's the date when a witness is supposed to testify against him in court and send his entire empire crumbling down."

Jongho nods again, soaking up every word.

"You're in cell forty, right?"

After another nod, you explain to him as quickly as you can just how he'll use the bolt he stole from the bleachers.

"When you break the wall, don't do anything else. Return the toilet the way it was, screw it back on and wait." You hurriedly finish and he quickly nods in confirmation that he understood before you take a couple of steps back when you see from the corner of your eye the door of the guards room opening.

You can't even tell Jongho goodbye because you're already making your way across the gravel with your head ducked down.

But not before sparing one last glance at the yard and connecting eyes with none other than Kim Hongjoong who now stands by the fence and stares directly at you.

[runningfrom2am]

on the one screen in my town; three

summary:

mason’s life with drew was absolutely perfect, she was happier than ever; until everything came crashing down all at once.

tags/warnings:

drew starkey x fem!popstar!oc, drug and alcohol use, death, grief, these tags are not exhaustive, idk i'll add to this as it goes on.

wc: 2.9k

series masterlist

masterlists

The extremely private funeral was only a few weeks later, and Mason was hardly herself anymore. Anyone who knew her could see she was just a shell of herself, hardly there, even when she spoke.

They managed to get a large, private estate in Washington, near her mothers home town, where Mason had grown up. This was perfect for the service, considering it was remote and by exclusive invite only. The last thing anybody wanted was photos or people showing up to ask questions. The media knows almost nothing at this point, just that something has changed and all of Mason's projects have been postponed. Spare, so far, her and Drew's wedding, which was scheduled to take place in two months and thirteen days.

Mason had been counting them down with a childish excitement, but now, as she stands over her mothers coffin, alone, she's dreading it. How can it go on when her mom won't be there to celebrate with them? She can't even imagine it.

"Mason.." She looks up quickly, turning to see Drew as he walks up to her. "It's gonna rain, we've got to head out." He says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the side of her head.

Everyone else has left, including Este and her family, including Drew's parents, who were kind enough to make the trip from North Carolina, and including her father; and after waiting in the car for her for forty-five minutes, Drew decided enough was enough. He agreed to give her the time alone, of course he did, he wouldn't dream of saying no; but at this point it's not benefitting her anymore. Or him, to sit in the car and watch from a distance as she shakes and stares into space. It's hard to watch.

"Five more minutes?" Mason requests, not having the heart to look up at him.

"Of course." Drew nods, rubbing her shoulder gently. "I'm gonna stay, though."

She nods, leaning her head on his shoulder, lip quivering as she looks down at the coffin, yet to be buried. It's empty, she knows that, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to walk away.

"Jeez, Mace.." Drew sighs softly. He's never figured out what to say, he had hoped it would come to him eventually, but the only thing he's realized is that there is no right answer. Nothing can bring Catherine back, there is not a thing in the world he could do to make her feel better, and he feels so hopeless. "I miss her." He settles on, wanting her to at least know he kind of understands.

"I don't understand... I don't understand why." Mason chokes out, shaking her head and turning to bury her face in his chest, hugging onto him like her life depended on it. It was a car accident, of all things. Wrong place, wrong time. Why did it have to be her?

Drew just shakes his head. "I don't know. She's not gone, though, hey?" He makes sure she's listening, kissing her head again. "She's gonna haunt us like crazy, she could never leave you." He laughs slightly, trying to make her smile.

It works only a little bit, making Mason laugh slightly through her tears. "True. She's gonna be throwing eggs at me if I forget to eat breakfast." She adds, nodding slightly.

"I don't doubt it for a minute." Drew smiles, craning his neck to try and get a look at her smile. He's missed it, she hasn't smiled in weeks. They haven't really talked about any of this yet, but Drew knows he has to wait until she is ready. She's getting there, he can tell. "Can I take you home? I've got to get you fed before Cath uses her ghost powers to try and make you spaghetti or something."

"No." Mason shakes her head. "I hope she does."

"Okay, well, you can explain your late dinner to her so she doesn't come after me." He chuckles, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Three Years Ago

"Mason! I saw on Twitter that you went on a date this week. Twitter! How dare you not call me first!" Catherine says, excitement clear in her tone as soon as her daughter picks up the phone.

"Hi mom." Mason rolls her eyes playfully, dropping her hand to put it on speaker so Este can hear as well.

"Hi Ellen!" Este says, instantly putting her phone down to join the conversation. When they first met, Este had mistakenly remembered Catherine's name as being 'Ellen', and it was just too funny for the three of them to ever let go.

"You can't distract me! Tell me what's going on." Her mom says, making Mason blush and Este grabs the phone from her.

"Oh my god, Ellen, he's a dreamboat! Okay, so, his name is Drew, they met at that premiere I brought her to. That Netflix show I'm working on, Outer Banks? He's in the show. He plays Rafe."

"Oh yes, right. Okay." Catherine laughs, urging her on as Mason buries her face in her hands, shaking her head with embarrassment. "I haven't seen it yet Este but you know it's on my list."

"Yeah, of course! Anyway, you should have seen them, he was like all over her! I'm pretty sure he pretended to 'accidentally' bump into her so they could talk. It was so cute." Este gushes. "Hold on! There's pictures, I'll send them to you."

She grabs her phone again to find the pictures as Catherine fires questions at them. "What did he say? What's he like? Where did you go? Tell me everything I can't wait another minute!"

"Okay, mom, slow down." Mason intervenes. "It was just one date, it's not like he proposed or something."

"Well sorry for being excited! I didn't know that was a crime." She replies with a sassy tone.

"It's not. I just, I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready for another relationship, so I don't know if I'll see him again."

"Oh, shut up." Este says, rolling her eyes at her friend. "He's amazing. Seriously, he looks at you like you're the only girl in the world. Don't push him away because you're scared. Brady was a jerk, Drew's not like that."

"Okay but how do you know?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe because I've worked with him for two years now?"

"No, you haven't, you've worked with Madelyn and Madison for two years. He was just occasionally around."

"Exactly, if there was any red flags about him they would have told me. I know all the tea, trust." Este insists, scrolling away on her phone looking for all the pictures of Drew and Mason from the premiere. "For example, okay, Rudy and Elaine? They're like, totally on the outs. They don't even know it yet but the rest of us can all tell. She's not great to him. Also I knew about Chase and Madelyn's break up before he did, okay? You always trust the makeup artist! I know everything, but with Drew? There's never been anything. No drama, no one has had a bad thing to say about him ever. Also, Ellen, I just sent the pictures to you."

"See! Honey, just give him a chance." Catherine agrees and Mason sighs. "Oh! Oh gosh, these are so precious! He's very handsome, Mason."

"Ugh, mom!" Mason groans, throwing her head back against the couch cushions.

"I'm not giving you a choice. You need to keep seeing him, it'll be good for you. Just one more date if he asks, then you can do whatever you want. Just give him a shot." She says seriously, pleading with her daughter at this point to at least try.

"I'm glad you say that because he did already ask!" Este tells her. "Mason just hasn't called him back yet."

"Of course he did! You're amazing! You're beautiful, you're so kind, I can't imagine that he wouldn't want to spend more time with you, Honey."

Mason sighs, cheeks totally red and she nods. "Okay, fine, mom. You've convinced me. I'll call him back."

Six Months Later

Drew's bouncing his knee rapidly as Mason drives them down the quiet block, on their way to her parents home in a small town in Washington. "Nervous?" She asks him with a giggle, looking over as he stares out the window.

"No, what makes you say that?" Drew replies, quickly ceasing the movements of his leg.

"Just a hunch." Mason shrugs. "But if you were nervous, I'd say 'Don't worry, they'll adore you'." She assures him, turning onto her block.

"This is it!" She smiles, and he tenses up as she slows down, pretending to pull over.

"Shit, okay, I'm scared." He admits, making her laugh.

"I'm kidding. That wasn't even the house." Mason giggles, pulling out onto the road again.

"Screw you." Drew laughs, shaking his head. "That's not funny, by the way."

"Okay, okay. Sorry. This actually is it though." She says, taking a right turn into the driveway.

"Oh god." Drew groans, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. He doesn't even know why he's so nervous, he just wants to make a good impression, but Mason has told him time and time again that they already have a good impression of him based on everything she's told them.

"Watch this. We have about five... four... three..." As Mason counts down, unbuckling her seatbelt and watching the front door of the small ranch home, which suddenly flies open and her mom comes running out, straight up to the car. "Yep, told you." She grins over at Drew, opening her door and stepping out.

"Mason! Oh, I missed you so much!" Catherine smiles, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her cheek.

"I missed you too..." She smiles, hugging her back and looking over to her dad who is standing against the door frame with a smile on his face. He gives her a quick wave which she returns behind her moms back, before her mom is letting her go.

"Oh, you're Drew! Hi, dear! It's so good to finally meet you!" She's quickly at his side of the car, giving him a hug as well. Him and Mason share a look over her head, and Mason gives him two thumbs up as he chuckles awkwardly and hugs her mom back.

"It's nice to meet you, Catherine." He agrees as she lets him go.

"Oh please, call me Cath. Or Mom. Whichever suits you more." She waves him off, smiling up at him. "Geez, Este wasn't kidding, you are more handsome in person. And tall. My goodness."

"Oh my god, mom!" Mason laughs, blushing furiously as her dad makes his way down the stairs.

"What? I just want him to be comfortable!" Catherine defends, patting Drew on the arm and walking around to the back of the car.

"And you think saying that will help?" Mason giggles, quickly walking up to her dad and hugging him as well.

"Well, I don't know I'm just being nice." Catherine insists, opening the trunk to get their suitcases out.

"I've got it! We're good." Drew insists, cheeks still flushed as he joins her, grabbing them out for her.

"I should probably help him, hey?" Miles whispered to his daughter with a smile and she nods as he nudges her shoulder.

"Yes please, dad." She whispers back, laughing quietly as he walks away, and Mason returns to the car to grab her purse out.

"Here, let me help." Miles says, grabbing his daughters pink suitcase off the ground. "Mason doesn't travel light, hey?"

"No she does not." Drew chuckles, shaking his head.

"Something wrong with that?" Her dad asks, serious now as he raises an eyebrow at Drew.

"Oh- no! Definitely not, sir. Gotta be prepared, you know?" Drew says, the blood draining from his face as he tries to salvage the situation.

"Dad!" Mason scolds him, and he instantly breaks character, laughing at the boys response.

"I'm kidding, don't worry." He laughs, patting his shoulder. "I'm Miles, by the way."

Drew laughs awkwardly, clearly getting minor whiplash from the situation. "Nice to meet you, I'm Drew." He says, repeatedly glancing up at his girlfriend.

"Let's get everything inside before it rains, yeah? We don't have all that beautiful sunny weather that you guys are used to in North Carolina and LA." Catherine says, taking a bag from Drew before he can protest and making her way back inside.

By the time everyone else makes it inside, Catherine is already on facetime with Este, who's back in LA. Mason doesn't know who was more likely to call each other out of the two of them. "Gosh, honey, you were right about him he is lovely!" Catherine says, turning as she hears the door shut. "Oh, here they are! Want to say hi?"

"You know I do!" Este grins, still laughing about how quickly Catherine called her to talk about Drew once they arrived. "Hey guys! How was the flight?" She asks as Catherine passes the phone off to Mason.

"It was good. Not too long." Drew shrugs.

"Yeah. I miss you, though." Mason adds, pouting at her friend.

"Well why didn't she come?" Her mom cuts in before Este can reply.

"Work, unfortunately." She sighs dramatically. "But I'm free next week, if you'll still want some more company."

"Yes, of course! Come up here any time, honey."

"You heard her." Mason agrees, smiling at her friend.

"Alright I'll see you on Tuesday, then." Este giggles.

Mason passes the phone back to her mom as she says she's looking forward to it, grabbing her backpack to bring to her room.

"I guess I should give you the tour." Mason says to her boyfriend, pausing and looking around the open living room and kitchen space. "Alright that's about it. My room is down here, same with the bathroom, and my parents room." She says, making Drew laugh as she heads toward the small hallway, Drew following close after.

"It's such a cute house." He muses, looking around at the array of artwork on the walls.

"You can say it's small, Babes. It's fine." She giggles quietly as they step into her room, throwing her stuff on her bed under the window.

"No, I meant like, the decor and stuff. It's very cute." Drew insists, smiling at her and then looking around her room, which clearly hasn't been changed since she moved out a few years ago, to live with Este in LA.

"Oh, well, my mom will love the review so please tell her." Mason smiles, sitting down on her bed and laying back dramatically.

"I don't know what I expected your room to look like, but it was almost exactly like this." He chuckles, standing in the door frame and taking note of all the posters on the walls, mainly Taylor Swift, One Direction, some of her favourites. "Have you met any of them yet?"

"I met Taylor once." Mason says, sitting back up and smiling at her big 'Lover' poster. "She was really sweet, she said she wants to do a song together sometime, maybe grab lunch. I have her number. I feel like she just pitied me, though."

"No way, she knows talent when she sees it. Clearly." Drew smiles, pacing into the room and sitting next to her.

"Leave the door open!" Miles calls after them from the living room.

"Dad!" Mason huffs as her cheeks turn red and she stands up, walking to the door and looking down the hall at him. "I'm not sixteen anymore, I'll shut the door if I want!" She laughs, then pretending to dramatically slam it before she stops it and closes it gently.

"Who'd you bring in here when you were sixteen?" Drew laughs quietly, cheeks turning slightly red as well.

"Guess." Mason laughs, sighing and rolling her eyes as she joined him on the bed again.

"I've got a pretty good idea." Drew admits, looking around again and this time noticing all the music awards on one wall next to the closet, smiling a little to himself. "Brady still lives here, doesn't he?"

"Yep. Him and his new 'girlfriend'." Mason says, using a mocking tone to refer to her. "Well, not new anymore I guess. It's been over a year."

"He's an idiot, if she was smart she would have left him by now." Drew chuckles. "I'm lucky he's so stupid, honestly."

"Me too. I wouldn't have found out otherwise." Mason chuckles. "God, it's so embarrassing." She groans and covers her face with her hands. Drew laughs a little with her, reaching out and running his fingers through her hair. She shouldn't be embarrassed. It's funny to laugh about a year down the line, but it's hard to think about what she went through- when the world was watching. He wants to make sure she never goes through anything like that ever again.

"Mason! Honey, mind helping me with dinner?" Her mom calls from the living room and she sighs, sitting up.

"Coming!"

taglist:@veescorneroftheworld, @totalswag, @madelynie, @cecesrings, @slut4drudy, @mutual-mendes, @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @h34rtsformilli, @maybankslover, @ffgcfff (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[erathene]

New fic idea: Modern Middle-Aged Man in Middle Earth.

His wife and kids have left him and he's alone, low self-esteem, mental health in the dumpster. Slumped on the sofa on a Sunday afternoon, surrounded by wrappers and empty crisp packets, TV on with the Netflix "are you still watching?" banner on the screen. On a nearby table are final demand letters and bills, an eviction notice, and a photo frame with two children at the beach.

Modern Man decides to have clear out; might as well before the bailiffs come and the eviction becomes real, less stuff to move out with etc. He comes across an old PlayStation 2 games console that belonged to his son. He decides fuck it, let's plug it into the TV and have a go.

Lord of the Rings: Return of the King has been left in the disk drive. The menu loads up. Modern Man grabs the controller and begins to play as Aragorn getting through the paths of the dead.

The console short-circuits and transports Modern Man to Middle Earth (yes I know I know it's basically Jumanji blahblabhlaja)

He encounters other male characters (maybe in Rohan but idk) and sees how they are men of honour, role models, fighters, doing their duty for their homeland

Cue the CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

He starts eating well, sparring in the training ground and working out. Many, many years of eating junk food and sitting at an office desk haven't done him any favours, but shit it's not like there's much else to do in a world where electricity and desk jobs are not a thhing.

He starts working through some of the Issues that he has avoided for years. Finds out that talking about them helps, a lot.

Figures out why his wife (who is called Penny) left him: he loved her but didn't regularly show it, kept his feelings bottled up, didn't open up to her, made her feel shut out. Reeealllyy want Boromir to help him figure this out, don't ask why. Already knew his missed his kids (called Charlotte and James btw) but now knows he really misses them, would trade anything to hug them one last time.

Participates in a battle. Isn't an amazing warrior but has had enough practice to hold his own. Has a few close calls. But keeps going and keeps going. He starts to tire; he's not invincible and there are so many enemies.

Eventually takes a fatal blow. 😭

Wakes up back in the Modern World.

Realises he's been given a second chance, gets his Shit Together. Hugs Charlotte and James as soon as he sees them (and probably doesn't let go for a while despite their cries of "Daaad, get off!") . Gets evicted but finds a better place to live, closer to his kids. Joins the gym. Makes up with Penny. Things are looking up.

The PlayStation 2 console is packed away..... For now.

There are some bits that are not entirely... original.. But idk, I would read it?? Maybe??? 🤔

[kikufuku01]

I Love You, Always

Sukuna x Reader

Part 11 Toxic in You ♡♡♡ Part 12 Taste of Your Tears series m. list

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

Warnings: Angst, alcohol and weed intake, violence

Taglist is open, just message me if you'd like to be tagged in upcoming posts! Must be 18+!

A/N: Also, idk if tumblr. updated or changed, but in my last post, I've tried tagging some accounts and it won't show at the bottom when I view in the app but if I go to a safari page, the tags will show. So if I tag in this post and it doesn't show, I'm truly sorry!

You’re a wuss. Kaede will be here at any moment, and you really don’t want her to see you like this. You can already picture it. She’ll come here all bright and bubbly, see the mess that you are, feel the horrible vibes and catch on to what’s been going on. You don’t need another person going off on you, so you need to book it. Just standing here has you shaking in what, exactly. Anger? Fear?

You take a good look at what he’s wearing. Sukuna has always dressed up in street fashion, but there’s something slightly different to him. Maybe you’re overanalyzing it, but there’s a touch of Kaede to him. Is that weird? The more you think about it, the more everything just falls into place. There’s something going on for sure, so, while Sukuna’s back is turned to you, you take the chance and run as fast as you can. You don’t bother to look back, and you don’t have to, because unlike before, there aren’t a second pair of feet running after you anymore. Another thing to feel sad about, but that’s okay.

You’re trying to empty your head as you run down streets and alleys, not caring where your feet take you. Your vision is so blurred that it’s hard to see, but you’ve managed to maneuver just fine up until now.

“Oof!”

Both you and the person you’ve bumped into let out the same noise and he quickly reaches out to stabilize you, “careful there.”

Fucking great. Are you stuck in hell or something?! Why do you keep running into people you don’t want to see?

When the man takes a closer look at you, he pouts, “oh, it’s you, angel face. Don’t tell me you’re drunk again, it’s barely seven.”

He checks the time on his phone once more - just to make sure, and then nods at you, “you okay there?”

“I’m fine,” you respond, trying to sound firm.

How did you even manage to bump into this dude? In this area?

You take a closer look at your surroundings, “why are you here?”

Satoru hums a little, “just closed up my shop not too long ago. I was planning to hang out with a few friends, but I think you need some company.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. Go on with your day.”

You dab away the welling tears with your hands as you try to walk past him, but he grabs at your forearm, “come on, angel face. I know a sad face when I see one.”

There isn’t any strength left in you to resist, so you let Satoru drag you to a parking garage. Your eyes light up a bit at the sight of him moving towards a motorcycle.

“You know how to ride?”

Satoru’s grin grows wider, “I wouldn’t have one if I didn’t know how.”

A soft scoff-like laugh comes out at his answer, “true but,” you poke at his back, “rich people like you like to buy everything for show.”

Satoru feigns offense and swats your hand away sassily, “excuse me, but you come from a family of money too. You’re quite privileged, aren’t you?”

“Whatever.”

He sits on the motorcycle and hands you the helmet, “you’re gonna need it more than me.”

You accept the helmet but stay standing, “don’t you need it? What about your eyes?”

Satoru pulls out a pair of goggles from his jacket and giggles like a child, “nah, I got these babies right here. Hop on, I’m hungry.”

You must admit, the start of the ride was a bit scary. At first, you refused to hold him tightly in case you’d end up hurting him, but he insisted you hold on for dear life unless you had a death wish. As a joke, you loosened up your hold even more, causing him to scoff.

“Girl, I don’t have time to bury you. This stomach is hungry,” he shouts over the wind.

You hold his waist tightly with one arm and stretch out the other to feel the velocity of the wind, “just dump me in a ditch or something!”

Right at that moment, Satoru makes a sharp turn around the corner and it makes you squeal whilst your other arm wraps around his waist to keep you from falling. He shrugs, “after I eat, then!”

The thrill of the ride is quite exciting. It made it easier to forget about what had just happened, and you’re thankful towards Satoru for that. He ends up taking you to a convenience store; not that you mind. He mindlessly pushes out the kickstand with his foot and hops off, turning around to help you get off as well. You both enter, not paying any mind to the employee who greets you.

“Pick out anything you want,” Satoru says in a candy sweet tone as he zooms through the aisles.

You don’t pick much, opting for cup ramen and some onigiri. After settling in the seats, you both begin to dig in.

“Sorry I didn’t bring ya somewhere fancy. I was craving this way before I bumped into you.”

“I don’t mind, thanks for paying.”

He takes a bite out of his sausage stick and focuses on the people outside that pass by, “so, you wanna tell me why you were running and crying?”

You sigh, “not really. It’s a long, long story.”

His head tilts to the side as he speaks, “yanno, I haven’t known you for a while but it’s kinda easy to see through you. Instead of making things harder for yourself, why don’t you just talk about it?”

Then his judgy little eyes narrow on you, “don’t tell me you got a kink for pain.”

“Course not,” you laugh, “I wouldn’t even know.”

You take the chance to slurp up your noodles while he continues to stuff his face with savory junk. He swallows the mixed mush of food, “I’m always open ears, if you need it. We’re friends, right?”

My gosh… the ptsd of those words right now. Kazuya pops up into your mind once again and the little appetite that you had has now subsided. Satoru notices your gloomy mood but chooses to keep quiet. He’ll wait for you to talk. Will you take the bait?

“You said you’re close to Sukuna?”

Well, you took the bait, but it’s not what he expected to hear. He sticks his tongue out, “indeed.” He points towards your cup ramen, “you gonna finish that?”

“It’s yours.”

You lazily slide the ramen towards him, “have you hung out with him recently?”

Ahhh, maybe this is going in the direction he wants. Satoru giggles and holds his chin, acting as if he’s thinking, “here and there. Kaede’s always there too.”

He sees the way your eyes light up at her name and continues, “I kept asking about you, but they said you were busy. To be honest, I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Both of your palms lay flat against the tabletop and you can’t help but openly show your true expression, a soft grimace, “wow, you’re really stupid.” You tap his shoulder twice, “only you would be worried over something so trivial.”

Satoru’s jaw hangs open, “that’s rich coming from you.” He shakes his head though and laughs aloud, “why are you asking?”

You’re sick of being speechless. Your left leg is bouncing so fast under the table due to your nerves that you’re afraid Satoru will make fun of you, however, that’s not what should concern you. You drop all of your current waves of emotion and stare at him with dead eyes.

“How do they interact, Sukuna and Kaede?”

This time Satoru does take a minute to respond, as he’s digging deep in his brain to remember each and every interaction. When he’s done searching, he leans on one fist, “they’re kind of playful, maybe like…” he drags out the last word but then chirps up again, “like the day we all met! The haunted house, if you remember. Though they’re a little more playful, other than that, they don’t do anything different from usual.”

Tap… tap… tap…

The sound of your nail taps against the table. Suddenly you feel everything too much. The air conditioning in here is too high and the goosebumps rise on your forearms, the noodles you had were too salty and now you’ve got a bitter taste in your mouth. Like a nightmare, you see the vision of them dancing closely in the club and your heart tightens.

“Are you sure?”

His icy eyes scan over you while his mouth falls to a small ‘o’ shape, “do you know something I don’t?”

Alright, maybe he’s just oblivious, or could it be that Sukuna and Kaede have only recently started acting like that with each other. You force yourself to smile at him, “nevermind what I asked, I’ve been occupied.”

“Oh, that's right!”

Satoru beams brightly at you and leans over, getting all up in your face with his crazy beautiful eyes, “you had a friend that you were talking to. Sukuna didn’t mention him too much, but Kaede gossiped like crazy. It was as if a kettle had broken and all the tea came spilling out.”

This catches your attention and you furrow your brows at him, all while placing both hands on his shoulders to push him back for personal space, “what kind of gossip?”

He sassily waves his hand around as he says, “well, nothing bad, just that you were too busy with your friend, Kazuya–” he cuts himself off to get in your face again, a funny grin on his lips, “to hang out with us!”

“Please,” you end up laughing at his silliness and shove him away again, “I’m sure you had fun either way. And besides…”

You don’t know why you’re about to tell him this. It could be because you need someone to vent to. You blow a few raspberries, “I let him go.”

This is where Satoru is a liiittle confused. He wears a thin smile while his eyes ask for more information.

“Kazuya, I mean. I couldn’t continue with him– and please don’t make me feel like shit for it. I already feel horrible, so please don’t comment.”

“I won’t,” Satoru shifts in his seat, “jeez, I didn’t bring you here to judge you. What kind of man do you think I am?!”

You give him a pout, “I’m sorry, it’s just been a rough day. Do you think you can take me home?”

After helping him to clean his trash, he crosses his arms and looms over you, “that depends. Are you gonna hang on or?”

You sock his arm gently and laugh louder than intended, “please shut up.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ugh, what a headache. Sukuna hasn’t talked to you since that last incident. Neither of you bothered to reach out and that was fine with him. Anyway, what’s up with everyone being late these days? Satoru’s dumb ass didn’t even bother to shoot him a text and now he looks like an alcoholic, buying all this booze for what. When he’s done, he goes back home and lounges on the living room couch with music blaring through expensive speakers.

He waits for another twenty minutes before he finally hears his doorbell and he buzzes him in through the gate from inside. In walks the joke of a man that he is (he’s kidding), round circular glasses hanging on his nose bridge, his hair down loose, an oversized black tank and some sweatpants.

“Sorry, traffic.”

What a shit lie.

Sukuna glares halfheartedly, “shut the fuck up, Satoru.”

The white-haired friend rolls his eyes in annoyance and plops down beside him, “you guys are so mean, you know that?”

He shoves Satoru away from him and sits up straight, “who?”

At the same time, Satoru nudges him, “who else?! You and y/n, for crying out loud. Y’all are always telling me to ‘shut up.’ You shut up!”

Y/n… he doesn’t want to think of you, but it’s kind of hard not to with Satoru yapping away about you. He decides to cut Satoru short, “wanna smoke?”

“Alright,” Satoru agrees.

They sit together with no words, only choosing to listen to the song that plays. Satoru’s head begins to bounce along, “what song is this?”

“Soulchef - Write this Down x Dead wrong. It’s a remix.”

Sukuna skillfully rolls a joint and hands it to him with a stone face. Satoru brings the joint to his lips and lights it, breathing out a puff of smoke. He decides to be a little greedy at first, choosing to take another three puffs before eventually passing it back.

“Let’s drink too,” Satoru sings.

This isn’t a new occurrence. It’s something they do every here and there, just that today, it’s only them two, no one else. They don’t bother to dine first, instead choosing to drown themselves in the bitter beverage and hazy smoke.

Truthfully, Sukuna and Satoru have lost track of time. They’ve been drinking for a while now and they’re probably on their third joint. Yeah, not a really wise choice, but Sukuna felt like he needed it. While he’s seeing tunnel vision, Satoru takes it upon himself to bring you up again, for his own entertainment, of course.

“I ran into y/n not too long ago.”

“Cool.”

That’s it? That’s all he spits out? Where did all the possessiveness go? It’s a question Satoru easily knows the answer to, but it still amazes him how stupid you two are. He tries again, “yup, I let her ride on my motorcycle and then we ate together.”

Sukuna groans to himself, feeling an ounce of irritation at the mention of your name, but he still manages to respond, “where?”

“Convenience store.”

“Pffft!” Sukuna cannot help but laugh out loud. In fact, his laugh is so loud that it echoes all throughout downstairs. It startles Satoru momentarily but he quickly recovers, “what’s wrong with quick food?”

Sukuna snickers, his mood a little delirious due to his haze, “why didn’t you get her something real to eat?”

Satoru clicks his tongue at him and chugs the rest of his beer, “what does it matter, she still ate.” He snatches the joint from Sukuna’s fingers and takes a long inhale, filling his lungs and holding it for as long as he can before releasing. “Anyway,” he continues, rubbing his nose as he does so, “she asked me about you and Kaede.”

“She did?”

That’s probably the quickest that Sukuna has responded all night. He cocks his head towards Satoru, “why did she ask?”

Since Satoru is feeling lazy and wants to bask in this bliss, he’ll hurry up and get this over with. With another click of his tongue, he speaks, “I dunno, maybe because she hasn’t been around much? She also stopped seeing her friend, Kazuya too. Oh, and I forgot to mention, she looked like she needed a pat on the back.”

He huffs a sigh, “her eyes were puffy as fuck.”

Sukuna has no idea why Satoru feels the need to spill every single detail, but he just goes along. At first, he’s fine with what he said, until he rethinks about it. Did he just say you stopped seeing Kazuya? That’s right, that’s exactly what he said. But why is he bothered? It’s not like it matters now.

While Satoru is dazed in his own world, Sukuna reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a baggie. It contains three little pills. Correction, three little happy pills that take him away from reality. His eye flicks towards Satoru and then back to the plastic bag as he ponders whether he should take it or not. He’s already crossfaded, so he should probably put it away. The moment Satoru’s head turns towards him, he quickly slips it back into his pocket and acts as if nothing happened.

“Let’s invite Kaede and y/n,” Satoru suggests with a slur.

He shakes his head, “nah. Kaede’s on a family trip.”

Satoru smirks slyly, “and y/n?”

“No clue.”

“Man,” Satoru lures, “what happened with you guys? One second you’re inseparable and the next, you’re worlds apart.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches and the urge to become violent is on a very thin line. He’s still mad at you. He’s very angry at you. How dare you prance around and act as if it is you who is hurt. The more he thinks about you, the more upset he becomes.

He sends Satoru an icy glare and pops open a new can of bear, “drop it.”

Satoru’s hands come flying up in less than a second and he backs off with a dopey grin. He starts again, “then, what are you and Kaede? You guys seem closer than before.”

“We aren’t anything,” Sukuna confirms, his frown growing deeper.

The white-haired male sends him a sugary smile, but his tone drops to something of seriousness, “y/n seems to think otherwise~”

“That’s her problem.”

Satoru pushes himself off the couch so that he can lean in Sukuna’s direction; so that he can look Sukuna right in his face, “is it now?”

He lifts his left leg and lays it over Sukuna’s thigh, acting as annoying as he possibly can, “think I don’t know about your lovely little wallpaper? You’re not slick, Sukuna.”

Sukuna slaps his hand right above Satoru’s knee and he squeezes as hard as he can, getting an immediate reaction. Satoru’s face scrunches up as he screams, “that hurts, dude!”

“So get your ugly, lanky legs off of me, you blue-eyed freak.” He releases Satoru’s leg after shoving him off, “and quit snooping through my fucking phone.”

“I didn’t snoop!” Satoru retorts.

He snatches Sukuna’s drink and tastes it for himself, “I saw it a while ago. If she isn’t anything to you then you might as well change your wallpaper to something else.”

It’s funny how Sukuna can’t argue back. He doesn’t want to change it. If he does, it’ll be like he’s really letting go but he just can’t stop being angry with you. Every time Satoru mentions you, his ears itch and he feels like punching him for not listening. With one last glare, he takes his drink back, “shut the fuck up.”

♡ ♡ ♡

How long have they been slumped here? Seriously, it’s probably been like, hours. They aren’t crossfaded anymore and have had time to sober up, so Sukuna whips his phone out to stare at the time. This whole time, he couldn’t get stupid you out of his head. And yup, he’s made up his mind.

“You ready to leave any time soon?”

Satoru over exaggerates his frown while crossing his arms, “you are so rude. First you invite me here and now you’re kicking me out. What if I was still drunk?”

“Satoru.”

“Alright, alright, I got it.”

He stands up and huffs, “I’ll leave so you can sulk and marinate in negative feelings, you big ol’ grump!”

Sukuna laughs softly and grabs a couch pillow. He quickly tosses it and hits Satoru in the back of his head, but it hits him harder than he expects.

“Oh no you didn’t.”

Satoru spins around and quickly grabs the pillow. He throws it at the speed of light and hits Sukuna right in the face, “sucka~”

The door opens before Sukuna can get him back and he’s a bit upset that he didn’t get the last hit, but it’s whatever. Back to whatever was on his mind and ah, that’s right. He stands from the couch and marches up the stairs with his heavy feet. He kicks off his house slippers and enters his room.

Is he really gonna do this?

Sukuna sits on the edge of his bed to calm his racing mind. Sure, he’s sobered down, but is he really sure about this? He hunches over a bit and rubs his face with both his hands, “here we go.”

His heart drops with every step that he takes to his dresser but he chooses to ignore it. His fingers latch onto the handle and he hesitates, just for a second. It’s just a fucking necklace, what’s so hard about this? With that in mind, he yanks the drawer open and grabs the little silk bag. His thumb traces over the gold accents while his chest swells from the memory of you first giving it to him. Why did you guys have to become this way?

Sukuna shakes his head and opens the bag, takes the necklace out and then shoves it into his pocket. It’s almost nine, so he should hurry. It’d be faster to be driven to your house, but he prefers to walk. That way he can clear his mind and think it over again.

♡ ♡ ♡

Sukuna stares at your gate. He should really just turn around and leave you be but he’s already climbing over it. “Oof,” he lets out as he lands. There’s a sting to his ankles but he doesn’t care. Should he be more careful so that he’s not seen? Yes. Does he care right now? No.

He takes a closer look around and notes that the upstairs is completely dark, meaning no one is up there. He decides he’ll scope out the area a bit more, just in case you have company. Just as he thought, it’s almost completely silent. He’d question if you were even home, but the living room light is on, indicating you might be there.

Sukuna shoves his hand into his pocket and clutches the necklace one last time before making it back around to your bedroom window. Fuck. It’s locked. Okay, he should go home. Despite thinking that, his hands try it again, lifting as hard as possible.

“Damn it,” he growls, gently punching the glass.

He turns around to leave. One step, two steps, three steps. Sukuna freezes in place and then swivels back around. He marches towards your front door with quick steps and rings the doorbell not once, but four times. He can hear your bitching getting louder, which means you’re almost at the door.

“Who the fuck–”

Your voice dies down the moment your eyes make contact with him. What the hell is Sukuna doing here? Your eyes flutter quickly to make sure you’re not seeing things, but he isn’t disappearing. He’s really here.

Your mind blanks out momentarily, “why are you here?”

Sukuna ignores you and pushes past you to enter. After successfully getting by, he takes the door handle from your hand and closes it, locking it as quick as he can. Your dull eyes become filled with irritation when Sukuna starts walking towards your bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shout as you angrily follow after him.

He gently pushes your bedroom door open and walks in, his fingers flipping the lights on as soon as he can. Shit, his mind is racing as he’s doing all of this. He can barely make out what the hell you’re saying. While he stands near your bed, you stand near the door to keep your distance. Gosh, it’s always you. This fuels his anger once again and digs into his pants pocket.

Without warning, he angrily throws the item at you and your quick reflexes make you catch it. You don’t look at what he threw. Instead, you keep your cold glare, “what is this?”

“The necklace,” he coldly says.

Sukuna turns away from you, so that he can’t see your face, “I no longer need it.”

A sudden burst of energy flows through you and you squeeze the necklace in your palm while angrily stomping towards him. You raise your hand and throw the necklace right at his face, causing it to scratch his right cheekbone, making it bleed lightly.

“Ouch,” he flinches. Sukuna’s hand comes flying towards his face to touch the new wound, “what the fuck was that for?!”

There aren’t even tears in your eyes. You don’t feel sad, you don’t feel like crying at all. What you feel is just pure anger. Whatever you’ve bottled up in all these months just ends up exploding in both your faces.

“Fuck you!”

Sukuna bends down and swoops up the necklace from the floor. He dangles it in your face, “you just cut my face with the necklace!”

Your eye twitches as you shove his hand away from you, “throw it away! Why bother giving it back?!”

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows at you, “don’t you want it?” He looks at the trident with a soft gaze, “last I remember, you liked the necklace just as much.”

The situation right now isn’t funny at all, yet you can’t help but laugh out loud at him.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

The tone of your voice is laced with venom and Sukuna fucking hates it. The eyes that used to stare at you so softly now glare at you as if you’re a murderer, “how so?” he taunts.

“If you liked the necklace so much then why are you returning it? It obviously doesn’t mean shit to you, so throw it away. It’s just a piece of garbage anyway,” you sarcastically argue. You look at the necklace as it hangs from Sukuna’s hand and feel your heart break. At the end of the day, it is just a stupid necklace. One you paid a hefty sum for, sure, but still.

“Actually, give it.”

You snatch the necklace from his hands and spin around to toss it but Sukuna chases after you, “what are you doing?”

Your voice cracks as you answer him, “I might as well throw it out for you. That way you’ll feel less guilty about it, so get out of my face.”

Sukuna tries to take the necklace back, but you dodge him, “I didn’t want to throw it away, I wanted to give it back to you.”

Damn, now you can feel the tears welling up. This whole thing just irritates you even more so you’re prone to cry out of anger and frustration as you argue back.

“Well it’s trash, so I’m dumping it.”

Again, you shove past him. Sukuna is bigger than you in more than many ways, so he easily stops you and steps in front, “what’re you doing?” He tries to reach for the necklace again, “give it back if you don’t want it!”

When he can’t take it from you, he gets frustrated, “give it back, y/n!”

“Why should I?!”

“Because it’s mine!”

You scoff, “not anymore. Did you already forget?”

Your free hand comes to angrily poke at his chest, “are you stupid?” You jab at him again, “is it crack? Is it crack that you smoke?”

Sukuna thinks he might as well at this point. He grabs your wrist and holds it in place, “piss off.”

“You piss off, eyesore.”

Ouuu, he really wants to fucking hit someone or something. Eyesore? Him? You’ve gotta be kidding. All of this is mainly your fault, so how dare you get upset at him. He originally did all of this for you. You’re spiteful and full of jealousy. While he firmly holds your wrist in place, he inhales then exhales to calm himself, “why are you so mad?”

“Shut up,” you softly mutter.

Sukuna stays quiet so the both of you can calm down on your own. With all the shouting earlier, it’s clear as day that neither of your parents are home. He wasn’t completely sure before, but now he is; not that it matters. He sees that you’re still holding the necklace as tight as you can and it’s clear to him that you don’t plan to let go anytime soon.

“You’re jealous of Kaede. Admit it.”

Ugh, you’re so tired of talking in circles now. You look at him with tired eyes, “I am. I’m so greedily jealous, Sukuna.”

Why does a part of him spark up at that? He manages to keep his face the same, “and why is that, hm?”

“I just am.”

This makes Sukuna sigh, a heavy groan escaping his throat, “tell me the truth, be honest with yourself.”

Last time you said you liked him and now you can’t speak up? What the hell is wrong with you?

“What, can’t talk now?” he taunts, “you’re attracted to me, just fucking admit it.”

“I am attracted to you,” you plainly admit, “I’ve always been.”

Great, this is finally getting somewhere. Last time you spoke in circles, saying you didn’t know or this and that. His head dips down, “so why did it take you this long? Why did you wait until now?”

Because of Kaede and Kazuya. Because you don’t know what Kaede is to Sukuna. The tears finally spill out as you speak, “because I’m selfish and greedy.”

Sukuna’s turns to look at you and you do the same thing at the same time. Another tear falls, “because I want you all to myself, even when I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re right,” Sukuna monotonously says, “you don’t deserve me.”

It’s so stupid that your heart continues to shatter but you take advantage of Sukuna’s hold on your wrist loosening to pull your hand back, “I know that you like Kaede, but I just needed to let this out.”

Though it’s a shaky one, you try your best to smile, “let’s pretend like this never happened.”

You’re almost out the door but Sukuna isn’t having it. He takes big steps after you “fuck no, get your ass back here.”

Every memory with you flashes before his eyes and he remembers Satoru’s words. He said you stopped seeing Kazuya, right? Sukuna grabs your forearm, spinning you around and you gasp with the action.

“Sukuna, what’re you– mphh?!”

It happened so fast, the way his left hand reached for the back of your head, the way his right hand that held your forearm pulled you towards him and the way his soft lips clashed against yours while your body slammed against his. The moment you realized what had just happened, you began to pound and punch at his hard chest to no avail. When he finally released you, you backed up to catch your breath.

“What– why did you do that? Why did you kiss me?!”

His gaze softens at you, but his tone is still cold, “why are you acting so shocked? Why do you keep making a fool out of me? Don’t play with me, y/n.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Kaede and what she’ll think of you, and you hate yourself for enjoying the thrilling rush of his kiss.

“I’m not! I was just admitting my jealousy–”

Sukuna cuts you off, “you’re in love with me, y/n.”

He takes another step towards you, “you aren’t jealous in a platonic way. Don’t tell me you’re a toxic lover.”

“I–”

“There’s only one way to find out, sweetheart.”

No. Why does your heart pound faster when he says this? You glance at him with tearfilled eyes, “then what about Kaede?”

Sukuna hates how your voice quivers. He hates that you keep bringing her up. He raises his hands and wipes your tears away while whispering, “what about her? She’s not you.”

@lucyrocks86 @mykyoon @hxlalokidottir @wo-ming-bai @adoraspace @yourusernames

[k1nky-fool]

GREAT CHAPTER!!! Loved every word. FINALLY, they did something about that sexual tension that's been there since day one! They're so fucking cute with their flirty banter, (they've always had it, but now it feels more special. Deeper, in a way). And they just keep adopting kids, Mita is like a magnet. Also, I didn't expect Sevika to be the one to save the girl, nice touch!

My favorite line is definitely: "Like every other time since meeting him, Vander is there to fill the void that her courage has left empty". It describes their relationship in such a beautiful way; how they accept and compliment each other, and how they will always be there for the other, in any way they need it. With trust being the backbone of their relationship, and in a moment as intimate as that, that phrase has a lot of weight. Mita has never had the luxury of relying on someone, much less on an emotional level, but sharing that moment with Vander shows her that she can have that now, unconditionally. Of course, I think she knew that already, but now it's more tangible than ever.

Also love that Mylo shows interest in learning from Mita. I think he's very insecure about his abilities and his place in the gang, so finding something to learn and excel at is great for him. She found her student, and I think she'll really enjoy igniting that passion further within him, knowing it'll be his choice entirely, breaking the cycle she was forced into.

Anyways, I'm loving the fic so far and the direction it's taking! Your characterization is *chef's kiss* and the dialogue is very natural and compelling. YOU'RE AWESOME AND SO TALENTED AND YOU GOT ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WITH FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

Love youuu, take care and drink water! Thank you for such an amazing chapter!!!

@gatnalien always got me

I knew from the start that I wanted a dash of slowburn sexual tension in this, and since Part 6 will be the climax of the story, I knew exactly where to put their break. I plan to have 7 parts total, but the last one will likely be just epilogue.

I knew I wanted to redeem Sevika in some way just because what we do see of her character is fairly complex. Her morals are gray, but we definitely do see things that she stands for and certain places she draws the line. I definitely think she wouldn't stand for this as soon as she figured it out.

Now, idk how many people saw the little easter egg, but the girl that Sevika got out is definitely someone that my readers know. If you've read from other Arcane fics of mine, then the character traits from the other fic and the clues from Least Sane Moments might start lining up a little too well.

I knew from the start of Minute as a character that she'd want to pass her swords down to someone that could understand why they're important. The most important thing to Mita would be the student choosing to study. I think Mita definitely sees potential in him. He's not as physically strong as Vi or Claggor, and I think that he'd have a vague interest in more elegant forms of defense, much the same way he doesn't seem to like using blunt force for most things. (Thinking specifically to the balcony break in, dude was not happy with smashing shit like that).

While I'll unfortunately never get the chance to write what Mylo might be like if he got the chance to complete his training with Mita, do not fret that Mita will never have another student. I do like connecting fics, after all.

I definitely didn't forget to drink water for the last 5 hours whaaaaaaaaaat

[blacklem0ns]

this post was such a treat to read! as an aroallo person myself, i'm always in the mood to hear and talk about aspec interpretations of media. i'll be honest, outside of brook and ana i didn't really read any of the other characters as aspec, but your post definitely made me change my mind.

satan and azrael flirting for fun rather than an actual chance at a relationship is so aspec coded. loving the idea of a relationship but being horrified or uncomfortable when actually presented with the chance or being in one yourself is something i think almost every aspec person can relate to.

queerplatonic charlet actually makes so much sense in hindsight

i'm really glad you brought up scarlet and chase romantic interactions in the middle of s3 bc, as cute as they are, i'd be lying if i said i wasn't even a bit taken aback by the shift in tone within the relationship. like. out of context, the scenes are fine, but within the context of their relationship and the moments they've had before this, the focus on how physically attracted they are to each was quite the turn around. if there's one word i could use to describe those moments, it's that it's very "anime". like very typical, run of the mill, anime romance tropes. the girl takes of her shirt for whatever reason and isn't aware that the guy finds her attractive (or she doesn't see herself as attractive) and is confused as to why he's avoiding eye contact. and i think the main reason why these moments don't really work is BECAUSE it's so conventional. scarlet and chase's main draw as a pair was the emphasis on how much they valued each other as people and saw each other as equals. their relationship (pre s3) didn't have the constant, overbearing sexual or romantic tension that i see so much in media even though their relationship can be read as romantic and i just really liked that! in the s3 finale, they definitely goes back to their roots of showing how much they care for each other rather than idk ✨fanservice✨so i get what you mean when you say it felt “empty”. it was cute but it wasn’t scarlet and chase if that makes sense 😭

now brook, i relate to this boy so much as an aro person it hurts. i feel like people are too quick to shoot down aspec hcs of characters. i remember seeing a comment along the lines of "y'all said scarlet was aro at the beginning of the series and look what happened". and i think that's a pretty disingenuous argument. like you said, brook hasn’t shown any signs of romantic attraction both as a human and a reaper. i feel like it's just amatanormativity at play and seeing experiencing romantic attraction as the default even when there's no proof of a character ever experiencing it. like he MUST have felt it at some point, but being a reaper made him like this (i also feel like it has something to do with the idea that being aromantic is an inherently negative thing and a terrible curse to put on a character but that's a convo for another day!) but back to brook, i think him feeling like he's not as important to scarlet and chase as they are to each other comes from a place of internalized amatanormativity (kinda like with ana). we all grew up in this society where marriage and romance is seen as the superior form of affection and platonic love is inferior. so when arospec ppl see their friends get into relationships, they instinctually start to feel like they're being left behind. listen, i'm not gonna sit here and act like there's never been a times where someone get's into a relationship and ditches their friends immediately (in fact, it happens all the time), but often times arospec ppl jump to that conclusion regardless of if that's the case. bc romantic relationships are valued over platonic ones, friends leaving at the chance to be in one is expected, even inevitable sometimes. however, this isn't the what happens every single time. and we see that in brook's case when he realizes he was cared for and loved by both scarlet and chase (although for scarlet it's more of the audience seeing it rather than brook himself but y'know what i mean).

this panel makes me tear up but it also makes me really happy :D

this turned out way longer than i expected, but yeah, i really enjoyed this analysis! and sorry if you felt any pressure from my comment 😭

ITGR and the Aromantic and Asexual Spectrum

aka a long, pretentious, non coherent, semi analytical ramble I took a month to make about ITGR and how aspec coded it feels to me. Brought to you by someone who re read the series three times in the last nine months

I was originally going to write about how aspec coded every character feels individually in reference to this post but then I realised, I've always found that ITGR as a general narrative and comic had aspec vibes and I couldn't pin point why until recently. So I wrote this analysis (?) dissecting different patterns I noticed with characters and the general narrative themes and why it just feels aspec to me.

Obligatory disclaimers and preface: I will be using "aspec" as a shorthand term for both the aromantic and asexual spectrums (I will use "acespec" when talking about the asexual spectrum and "arospec" when talking about the aromantic spectrum specifically). I'm not trying to claim any of this was intentional on the part of Grave or trying to speculate that Grave is secretly aspec. I know a lot of the things I view as aspec coding could be explained away by a character's trauma or implied mental illness but I'm going to be largely viewing things through an aspec specific lens for the sake of this specific analysis (also aspec people can have mental illnesses or trauma that can feed into eachother and that doesn't take away from the fact they're aspec or vice versa).

This is all just a very aspec centered interpretation of ITGR and I'm not trying to claim it's the "correct" or "only" way to interpret the comic (also i will be sprinkling in aspec headcanons here and there and you will just have to deal with that, sorry <- some characters dont have specific orientations that come to mind for me. they're just somewhere on the ace/aro spectrums/hj). Some of this is based on 'evidence' in the text or like narrative implications and framing and the other half is based on vibes/hj and, I can not stress this enough, just because I headcanon a character with a specific label doesn't mean I think the character would ever use that label or even know what that label is. It's more about finding a term I think generally describes how I interpret that character as experiencing attraction

Word count: 4869

Part 1 : ITGR and the Performative Nature of Love and Attraction

Idk, there's just something about the way love and attraction are represented in this comic that feels aspec? Unlike a lot of other stories, I've read, ITGR kind of portrays love and attraction in such a detached manner I can't quite describe, especially early on. Love's ironically not romanticised and is either portrayed as something fucked up or as something performative with some exceptions (more on those later). Let's start with the examples in which attraction is portrayed as performative, starting with the most obvious example: Satan.

Satan spends most of his time, taunting and toying with his reapers in a number of ways with various levels of flirtation, with Scarlet being the one he flirts with the most. He makes a lot of passes and allusions to love with her because he likes toying with her and is really possessive over her. In some scenes, especially early on, he comes across more like a jealous ex-boyfriend than he does a boss. The way Satan acts around Scarlet and Brook is so interesting because I honestly dont believe Satan actually wants to be worshipped or that he has any attraction to Scarlet. He's just a bored million year old being who's trying to have fun, and he's doing whatever he thinks will make them uncomfortable because that's fun to him. This becomes more apparent with the fact that the only time we ever see him be uncomfortable is in Episode 94 when he's meeting with Ashe. Ashe (at this point) is someone who practically worships him and treats Satan how he implies he wants Scarlet or Brook to treat him. And he hates it.

Its so interesting that when Satan's given something he has been implied to "want" this whole time, he absolutely hates it and is uncomfortable. Which signals to me that he doesn’t flirt with Scarlet or mess around with Brook because he genuinely wants them to submit or because he actually wants Scarlet to fall for him. He does it because he enjoys the fun of getting reactions out of people and he likes being entertained. He likes the chase but I don't think he'd be happy long term if they ever actually completely submitted and did everything he claims he wanted. Something about the way Satan does sexual and romantic coded things in a performative way without actually wanting anything feels so aspec coded to me (diversity loses! the worst person you know is acespec and aromantic coded!).

The other most obvious example to me is Azrael (I have a separate already semi written ramble about the general queer coding in Azrael's character, but that's for another day). He's probably the other only character in ITGR that is as openly flirty as Satan and despite that, all of his scenes flirting with people just convinces me he's not interested in the people he flirts with😭. All his scenes flirting with Celeste and Bernadette feel performative and hollow because of the fact that he doesn't seem to be genuinely interested in them romantically or sexually. He knows how and when Celeste and Bernadette are going to die and I think flirting with them is either a way for him to either please them and make them happy before they die or a way for him to entertain himself or both. Like his interactions don't read to me as "Oh guy flirting with women because he wants to date them/have sex with them because he thinks they're hot." They read to me as "guy who wants to have such much fun as he can and explore as many possibilities as he can with people he knows are going to die." His entire date with Celeste was essentially a way for him to learn more about her and almost 'test' the extent of her loyalty to God because he was curious. When Bernadette dies, there's no romantic element to him comforting her at all, despite the fact he spent so much of their interactions flirting with her.

The only other person we ever see him 'flirt' with is the princess from his time being alive and even there, at no point do we get any narration of how he feels about her or any comments about having feelings for her. It's heavily implied he was only being romantic with her by agreeing to marry her because he wanted her to have one good thing before she died so her death wouldn't be as painful. I have a theory/interpretation that to Azrael, there's an inherent relation between flirting and death and that he only flirts with people if he knows when they'll die (even if the flirting isn't genuine on his part). This idea is supported by the fact that post season 4 and Nyra destroying his ability to see the future and how she'll die, he doesn't flirt with her at all (which also more evidence that his interest in her was never genuine). Anyways, because of the performative nature of his flirtation with different characters, he's aspec coded to me (and he likes men but that's for another ramble).

I think the other example of a character expressing attraction only to reveal romance/sex isn't what they're after is surprisingly Wrynn? I have less compelling case for her compared to the others but I find it interesting that it would have been very easy to just make her in love with Ashe in a conventional romantic and sexual way but no. She doesn't want to date him. She wants to go back to being one with him (something something love as consumption but we don't have time for that). Episode 182 sets them in such a specific way (by giving them a lot of romantic and sexual tension and also an almost kiss) but even then, the reason she's doing all of that is so he can eat her and they go back to sharing a body because that's probably what an ideal relationship is like to her. I guess to me, having a character have so many signifiers of conventional allo (aka not aspec) attraction only to reveal they're actually not after sex or conventional romance and more into their own unconventional form of romance (if you can call it that) feels very aspec to me.

I've just noticed this consistent pattern with characters performing acts to signify attraction only to subvert that but either implicitly or explicitly showing that sex or romance isn't what they're after and it'd be one thing if it was one character (i'd still argue that this hypothetically character would be aspec but it'd be an isolated case) but the consistent pattern is borderline fascinating to me? It just creates such an interesting narrative and almost world? In a lot of media, romance and sex are just considered normal or expected but here, in ITGR, they're really not. Characters can perform attraction but that doesn't take away from the fact that more often than not, they're usually interested in something else and I dont know, I've always found it interesting.

Part 2: ITGR and the Horror of Attraction

I feel like a lot of media treats romantic relationships and attraction as generally good things that can be fucked up but usually when it is, it's framed an isolated event and I find it interesting how ITGR highlights a lot of the more fucked up aspects in romance and relationships. ITGR doesn't frame love as something inherently good or benevolent and I think there's something about that just feels aspec to me. I'm not trying to say romance or sex are inherently bad or fucked up. I just think that, like with anything, there is a certain amount of horror that can be drawn from and created from the concepts of attraction and I feel like the potential horror of romantic relationships (not necessarily even abusive relationships. Just the horror that can be drawn from the concept of being in a romantic/sexual relationship or being in love), or the ways love can be warped and turned into something terrifying is something that stands out more to aspec people than allo people if that makes sense.

I feel like ITGR frames love and attraction as something capable of being bad and hurting people as much as anything else. Jordan, the first sinner Scarlet ever kills, uses romantic flirtation as a weapon to lure women and kill them. It highlights the darker flipside of flirting and how flirting, something very common in romantic and sexual situations which is usually seen as positive or alluring, can be used to lower someone's guard and commit harm and violence. The reversal of using something romantic/sexual that is usually used to make characters look cool or charismatic only to use it highlights how dangerous it can be in a specific context has aspec undertones to me.

Another example is how ITGR deconstructs parts of the tsundere trope in Chase's past in Episode 15 and showcases the darker aspects of being in love. Here, love isn't framed as a good and positive emotion, it's framed as something fucked up that can leave you vulnerable to abusive and harmful situations because of the ways it can make you idealise someone which can make you blind to their abusive behaviour. I find it interesting how ITGR deconstructs some parts of the tsundere trope (aka a trope where a character acts cold and hostile to their love interest but gradually opens up) by showing how someone who is constantly mean and demeaning and physically abusive to you can be harmful. I find it interesting specifically because I feel like tsundere characters' hostile actions are sometimes justified by people using the fact they're in love, which implies that just because they're in love, it justifies them hurting someone, therefore framing love as a benevolent force that can excuse certain bad actions as long as they're for the sake of love. (BTW I feel like saying: I don't think the tsundere trope is a bad character trope. I think it depends on the execution and just find the way ITGR handles it to be interesting T-T). In this episode, ITGR instead implicitly claims that love can't justify bad actions, which further its grander treatment of viewing love as an emotion as any other, instead of putting it on a pedestal or treating it with extra importance like a lot of other media.

I think the other main example of ITGR highlighting a fucked up side to the concept of love is Liam's entire character. Liam's spiral after he realises Ana is dead is both terrifying and tragic. Liam killing an innocent man so he can be with her takes something that in some contexts would be seen as romantic (the fact that someone would be willing to go to such great lengths for someone they love) and twists it to an extreme to highlight how terrifying it is that love can be so all consuming that it warps someone's values and makes them do terrible things in the name of love. I feel less strongly about this but I also feel like there's something mildly horrifying about the fact that he's willing to do this for someone might not returns his feelings. Something about him assuming they were meant to be, despite never asking her, kinda also hits that "love as something horrific" horror spot but I feel like that's a weaker point.

ITGR just consistently frames love like another other emotion that has the capacity to do harm and in contrast to the way most media places extra importance or goodness on love and relationships, ITGR views it in a very detached perspective that feels very aspec to me and I hoped I managed to express that idea with these examples.

Part 3: ITGR and OOPS! THE MAIN COUPLE'S REALLY QUEERPLATONIC AND ASPEC (coded)!

Okay so up to this point, you might be thinking "Wait, what about Scarlet and Chase? They're the main characters and they're in love and are explicitly sexually attracted to each other" and to that, I say "Well yes, but no, but yes"/lh. I'm going to preface this by saying that this is probably going to be the most incomprehensible and hard to explain part of this analysis (?). When I said there's a few exceptions to ITGR framing love as something performative or fucked up, they're one of the main examples (I WROTE THIS BEFORE VER AND EVERETTE OOPS). Chase and Scarlet's romantic and sexual feelings for eachother are framed positively and tragically, you're supposed to be rooting for these two little doomed by the narrative dorks. That being said, they're both aspec as fuck 😭 sorry, not sorry, the aspec agenda doesn't end I'm afraid. I'll start with Scarlet because my interpretation of her is a lot more based on tangible evidence (while Chase is half based on vibes tbh/hj). She reads to me as demisexual and some flavour of arospec (greyromantic or even demiromantic). I think it's largely the fact she doesnt really seem to experience sexual attraction towards anyone, including Chase, until way later on. You could argue it didn't even start appearing until after she left the 9th layer (so it took her 25+ years to start experiencing sexual attraction towards someone she has romantic (?) feelings for). I know that you could probably argue that it's a trauma thing but that doesn't take away from the interpretation (demisexual people can have trauma and still be demisexual).

I feel less strongly about her being greyromantic but I still feel like that's another possible interpretation. It's mostly because I can't really see her being attracted to anyone? I think I know why scarlets orientation is hard for me to pin down. I think it's because I can't really imagine her being interested in men or women?? Like, I'd make sapphic jokes about her but I honestly just don't think she'd be interested in women. Or men. Honestly I feel like she's not attracted to any gender. If she ever is "attracted" to someone it's because they're someone who gets close to her and she's grown an attachment to them. Like she'd still be in love with chase if he was a girl. But also, I don't think she's attracted to any specific gender or any gender in general but also has the capacity to like any gender and I feel like calling her pan just doesn't fit so. Um. Yeah, I hope you enjoyed my unlabelled Scarlet side tangent. All of that being said, her not really feeling attraction for anyone except one person and it has to be someone she's formed a pre existing strong bond with…. Yeah. Need I say more/hj. (The unlabelled demisexual arospec Scarlet agenda is real)

Now onto Chase, also known as the vibe check. I'm going to be honest, something about him screams aromantic allosexual to me in a way I can barely convey. I think it's maybe the way when he talks about his ex, he talks about how hot she is, instead of talking about what parts of her personality attracted him to her. Also, I might be projecting but something about him canonically having a lot of failed relationships also just kind of contributes to the aroallo vibes I get (I'm not saying every aroallo person is going to inherently have dysfunctional relationships but I am saying it's not an uncommon experience for aromantic people to have a lot of past relationships that didn't work out due to "something" feeling off. Gestures). There's also the fact that while Scarlet takes a while to show any overt signs of physical or sexual attraction towards him (I was gonna say, this is except for her blushing when she sees him shirtless in Episode 13 but I went back and no she doesn't so demi Scarlet is so real), he does it a lot sooner than her and I don't know, there's something about how his feelings for her derive more from the fact he sees her as his equal or even above him while he struggles with human connection and attachment with most people and how his expression of romantic love isn't really conventional which feels very aromantic and queerplatonic to me. I guess I've always interpreted Chase having queerplatonic feelings for Scarlet that are romantic adjacent (Not saying all queerplatonic relationships are the same as romantic relationships, it heavily depends on the people in the relationship and how they feel and I just think Chase seems like a romance favourable aromantic person who'd label their queerplatonic feelings as romantic <- I don't think any of these characters know what the aromantic spectrum is, much less what queerplatonic relationships are. I just feel like, if we wanted to be technically, Chase's feelings for Scarlet, to me, aren't really romantic but I think he'd feel comfortable labelling them as such. I hope that made sense). To be fair, in a comic where like, over the half the main cast is heavily coded with at least one cluster b personality disorder/hj (I might make a post of how many characters in this comic have cluster b coded traits or symptoms as someone with two cluster b disorder but that's for another day), it makes sense that a lot of the connections and attachments characters make feel unconventional because a lot of these characters have issues related to attachment but even that, I'd argue that doesn't take away from the aspec reading.

Ever since I started reading ITGR back when season one and two were coming out, I'll never forget just. Not seeing the romance between Scarlet and Chase at all and being jumpscared when it became overtly canon because there was always something about their romance that felt, for lack of a better word, empty (NOT IN A BAD WAY) to me? And I just couldn't articulate what it was about their interactions and romance that felt so off and unconventional to me until now. I think it's partially also because of the way all their romantic scenes pre the season three finale focus more on affirming how much they care about and are attached to eachother as people, rather than how "in love" they are? And also the way their main forms of affection is hugs or physical touch and there's not really any "OMG O////O ARE WE ABOUT TO KISS???/!??@?@?" moment. Even in Episode 42, when we get a bit of a kiss tease, there's not blushing on either of their ends and Chase is talking more about how much he cares about her as a person and how much he's come to respect her and how even he, someone who in a way views himself as superior to most people and tries to position himself as someone worthy of deciding what's just and what isn't, has come to view her the ultimate judgement and he respects that (THAT WAS MORE INTIMATE THAN ANY LOVE CONFESSION BUT WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT). And even when he says he wants to see her in the eyes when she kills him, it's more about wanting to see her as a person before she dies. There's love there but it feels different than romantic love to me. Like, it's so intimate and unconventional and something about how we're four seasons in and they haven't kissed yet and the way their entire relationship is written and the way they express love and attachment to eachother has major queerplatonic undertones to me.

There's just something about how the main romance in this comic has a surprising lack of emphasis on romance. Anyways, I love my little murderous aspec people in a romantic QPR/lh.

Part 4: ITGR and The Aromantic One and the One That Wasn't (aka ITGR and the Devastation of Amatanormativity)

Amatanormativity is the common belief and societal assumption that everyone desires to be in a monogamous romantic and sexual relationship and marriage and it has caused a lot of pain to a lot of people but aspec people specifically (it's similar to heteronormativity and gay people). There are two examples of ITGR critiquing amatanormativity and highlighting how much pain it can cause, one indirect and one direct. Critiques and depictions of the harm amatanormativity causes are generally hard to find in most media and are mostly confined to media explicitly centered around aspec people and that's why it's actually surprising to me that (while I don't think it was intentional at all), on top of all the aspec undertones ITGR has, it also directly and indirectly critiques a societal expectation that inherently hurts and deeply affects aspec people.

I'm actually surprised I made it this long without talking about Brook at all. That being said, there's actually one character I need to talk about before I talk about him: Ana. Despite Brook being the explicit and more blatantly canon example of an aromantic character, Ana's backstory indirectly represents a common issue aspec people face. I know it's later revealed by Liam in Episode 48 that the man Ana married was a man she hadn't met prior but I still think there's a way to interpret her backstory through an aspec lense (Misogyny definitely has a part to play in Ana's backstory but I don't think misogyny being a factor takes away from an aspec interpretation of it and vice versa). There's just something quintessentially aspec to me about Ana's horrified face in episode 11 when we see her and her fiance as she remarks that she "didn't feel anything".

Her entire life fell apart because her abusive parents pushed amatanormativity onto her. It's the way she literally tries to tell them she doesn't want to get married or have children (implying she was happy being single and pursing her writing career) and they dismiss her and call her stupid and tell her that every woman wants to get married. They dismiss the notation anyone (any woman specifically) could be happy without marriage, or a relationship. Ana decides to do what they say and I know it's never explicitly shown but I think she wanted to believe they were right and that she'd develop feelings for her husband and be happy eventually if she just conformed and did what they said. It's possible she could have felt like she was wrong (or. broken/hj) and that she wanted to believe that marriage would "fix" her and make her happy (because society and amatanormativity consistently pushes the idea that marriage = happiness) and that would explain the horror in her face when she realised she didn't feel anything. It's also further supported by her line "Where was that happiness I was promised?". Her parents, society and amatanormativity literally kept telling her that she couldn't be happy if she stayed single and childless and sold her the idea that getting married would fix her and make her happy and that destroyed her life and, regardless of if Ana was supposed to represent an aspec struggle, it still stands as indirect commentary on how amatanormativity can hurt people who don't want to be married (or in relationships) (semi related but I personally headcanon Ana as aroace or arospec asexual ^^).

And with that said, let's move onto the only actually canonically aspec character in this comic: Brook, who's canonically aromantic. Also Brook being aromantic is canon regardless of it's explicitly said or not. I could go on a whole tangent about queer representation and the double standards between other queer rep and aspec rep when it comes to needing authorial intent to be seen as "real" rep but the short of it is that Brook's aromantic, not only because he said he's not interested in romantic relationships but because, on a fundamental level, he doesn't understand what romantic feelings are like and how they work. He's confused by the concept of romantic feelings, because he doesn't feel them. I don't think there's another way to interpret that. He's literally textbook aromantic. I'm not saying that trauma hasn't maybe influenced that and vice versa but you can be aromantic and have cptsd. I also feel the need to debunk the idea that Brook's time as reaper "made him detached from romantic love so he's not really aromantic" because that doesn't make sense. Yes, Brook's time as a reaper probably made him even more detached from human connections than he already was but there is no indication that he felt romantic feelings before being a reaper. He quite literally shows no interest in romance at any point in the comic, even before he died (also, again, while his lack of general ambition in anything could be interpreted as the product of some kind of neurodivergency or mental disorder, but that doesn't mean he can't also be aromantic). The fact he doesn't understand romance to begin with heavily implies he's never experienced it and doesn't experience romantic feelings in general, hence that he's aromantic.

Now that that's established, I want to talk about how ITGR depicts the feeling of isolation that can sometimes come with being aromantic, which in itself is kind of caused by amatanormativity. There's several scenes in the comic (Episode 176 being the most obvious example) where Brook laments getting attached to Chase and Scarlet because they're in love (well. Wellllllll, adajcent anyway/hj) and he feels like he'll never mean as much to them as they mean to eachother. He feels like because he's not romantically with either of them, he'll never the first priority to them (I personally headcanon as Brook having mild queerplatonic feelings for Scarlet but its not relevant right now and we don't have time for that). I feel like it's very common for aromantic people to feel isolated as a lot of their friends gets into relationships and because of how romantic relationships are seen as "superior" and it's nice of ITGR to represent that in a way. I feel like we do sometimes get canonically aspec characters in media but usually, if they're not the main main character, we don't really get much about how being aspec affects their lives and relationships? Or what their specific relationship to being aspec is? I feel like a lot of media ignores the complexities of being aspec which is why I really love Brook as a canonically aromantic character. While in most media, the aspecness of a character is more of a footnote and is usually treated as a label that's simply slapped onto a character, Brook's aromanticism doesn't exist in isolation and it directly ties back to several parts of his characters. It informs some of his feelings and thoughts. It feels like something tangible. I think it says a lot about how the writing that Brook is written so much like an aromantic character and his struggles with not feeling romantic attraction are treated with complexity that I genuinely forgot it's not explicitly ever said he is aromantic. I don't know, I really like him as aromantic rep.

Part 5: Bonus Headcanons + Conclusion

I didn't have any specific sections to put these headcanons in so I'm just going to through a bunch out there. Ashe is so greyromantic and greysexual to me. Like he definitely had feelings for the wife he's implied to have had when he was alive but I like to think he doesn't really feel attraction outside of that one specific person. Nyra screams arospec asexual lesbian to me. That's it. Send post. Need I say more? (I'm never getting over how her date with Azrael just convinced me that neither of them are attracted to the other's gender/lh). Oddly enough, I don't have that many headcanons about Bernadette. I'd say she could be ace? Vibes anyway. Scarlet's unnamed childhood best friend is so aroallo to me (vibe checked). I wrote a lot of this before Ver and Everette's interactions were revealed so you can either interpret them as the token allos or they can be acespec as a treat/hj.

With all of that done, thank you to anyone who actually read this whole thing. I am so sorry I'm insane/lh. I hope you enjoyed hearing out this interpretation. I feel like this analysis (?) has finally allowed me to be able to articulate why ITGR has always read to me as an aspec heavy piece of media despite only one character being canonically aspec, it's a combination of several things but mostly just the way the comic views love in such a detached and unglamourised way compared to a lot of other media. Love and attraction are still in the comic but the forms of love we see are unconventional. It kind of creates a world where genuine love and attraction aren't really the default, like out of the most openly flirty characters in the comic, most of them have ulterior motive and their flirty is performative and I find that so interesting. I don't think this is necessarily the only way to interpret a lot of the characters and themes but I hope I've opened your eyes to the aspec ITGR reading ^^

[momiji-bookhouse]

I forgot to add 🤦‍♀️ That I'm requesting for a oneshot heh!

A couple more details, I promise!

- Reader avoids everyone, specifically Kazu, like the freaking plague (how?? On a ship too?? Kazu is an expert in finding people?? idk) and after the fight, she goes dead silent. She doesn't even communicate with Beidou, her childhood best friend. She tells herself that she has no rights to speak. She still does her work though, just.. really quietly. Until one day (weeks after? Days after?), Kazu catches her, per say. (Yk, the classic.. wrist grab, kabedon.. I'm a sucker for clichés I'm so sorry)

- I don't remember if I mentioned this but she left her comfort space (Liyue) for him, so...

Also if this is too complicated for you, just any simple angst to fluff will do!! So it's easier for you if you find it difficult to write. ((: My apologies again if I'm all over the place.

Scent of the Earth

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x Fem!Reader

genre: Hurt/Comfort

words: 2.9k

summary: A few words won't be enough to undo what he said, but he will spend a lifetime making it up to you.

a/n: Stan Beidou

part 1

Kazuha doesn't need to hear the wind taunting and berating in his ears to know that he messed up. He has become aware of that fact as soon as he leaves the Alcor, but the maelstrom of anger and worry and disbelief still swirled in his mind, preventing him from going back to you less he says something he doesn't mean to.

A low sigh escapes his lips as he remembers your reaction, unable to get your stunned and shell-shocked expression out of his mind. His gut twist when he thinks about the things he said to you. He shouldn't have been so calloused, he should have been gentler and calmer.

But just thinking about it makes him remember seeing you on the ground with the Whopperflower looming over you. He remembers how a hole had suddenly open up in his stomach and how his heart stopped and became nothing more than a lump as fire burns around him. He remembers feeling the wind urging him forward, but a darker part in his mind whispers into his ears and telling him he will never make it in time.

Bile rise to his throat, and Kazuha clenches at his kimono, feeling the erratic thumping of his heart against his bandaged hands. He doesn't even want to envision what would happen if the Traveler hadn't been there.

He takes several deep breaths in and out to regulate his breathing and let the sounds of nature calm his nerves. As soon as he gets his thinking straight, he will go back and hopefully talk this out with you, unwilling to let this argument simmer.

He wants to make things right, especially when it comes to you.

The first thing Kazuha notice when he steps aboard the ship is the look on Beidou's face as he glares at him. He unconsciously gulps at how stormy her ruby eyes have become, arms cross over her chest and lips a thin line as she stares him down. Surely this is what the sea monster Haishan had witness before it was slain by her great sword.

"Captain." He tries to keep his voice even.

"Kazuha," the stoic way she says his name makes his heart skip a beat. "I need to speak with you. Now." She emphasizes the word and turn on her heels, not even sparing a glance to see if he is following her. She leads him to the bow of the ship, where there is no one on deck except for Liushi on the crow's nest, but he is too high up to listen to their conversation.

"What in the name of the great dark sea were you thinking talking to (Y/N) like that?" Beidou half-yelled as her eyes narrowed. "I want you to explain to me this instance, and depending on your answer I'll decide if I'll throw you off this ship or not."

Kazuha swallows, knowing full well that she isn't making an empty threat and will throw him overboard without hesitation.

He recounts the day's events to her, faltering when it comes to the part where you were almost burned by the Whopperflower. There is only silence as he finishes, and when he meets her eyes the storm is still there, although he now also sees hints of resignation.

She sighs heavily. "Look, I don't know how much you think your words affected her, but when I came in, she was having a panic attack. She couldn't breathe, Kazuha."

It feels like the pit in his stomach has open up again, bubbling with anxiety as his eyes widen. "What? Where is she? Is she okay?"

Beidou lays a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "She's fine, I got her to calm down and she's currently resting. Kazuha, how much do you know about her family?"

"I know she doesn't have the best relationship with her parents and siblings." His eyebrows furrow. "She told me that they're going around Teyvat adventuring while she stays in Liyue."

Beidou purse her lips. "I'm afraid it isn't as simple as that. I don't want to get into many details, but (Y/N) didn't have the best childhood. Her family has never made her feel like she's enough, and it only got worse when it turns out she's the only one in her family without a Vision. Growing up, I remember (Y/N) coming to me crying whenever her parents would tell her she's worthless. A burden." The brown-haired captain tightened her hold on him as the faint sound of lightning crackle in the air. "She didn't chose to stay in Liyue. Her family abandoned her."

Kazuha's blood boil in fury while simultaneously feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of you being treated that way by the people who were supposed to love you the most. He has half the mind to track them down and show them how amazing you are without them.

Then, he remembers everything he tells you during your argument and it's as if though a lightning bolt has struck him down.

Beidou inwardly sighs at the look of horror and realization on the young man's face. "Now you see how your words have affected her. It may have been things said in the heat of the moment for you, but it wasn't like that for her. (Y/N) is currently resting in my cabin for the night, and I don't want you to disturb her. See to it that you make it up to her in the morning."

Before she leaves, she smacks him on the back of his head and gives him a hard look. "And Kazuha, if you talk to her like that again, I will throw you off overboard myself without letting you explain yourself."

Kazuha has all the determination in the world to apologize for everything he's done to you and more. He'll even get on his knees if he has to, filled with guilt at how he treated you.

The gods, unoblivious to his determination or wanting to mock him, makes the task extra hard for him.

One of the crewmates of one of the smaller ships of the fleet has gone down with a contagious disease, and you were called in the middle of the night to take care of her. Since the risk of the disease spreading is high, that entire ship was quarantined and he had to spend days not being able to see you.

No holding you in his arms. No sneaking around and making excuses to slide into the same hammock with you to cuddle. Not being able to see the way the corner of your lips curve into a beautiful smile that makes the world seems brighter. No whispering cheesy lines of poetry and musings into your ears and hearing your laughter that makes his heart melt. Not being able to walk around hand in hand with you or kiss you on the lips and see that gorgeous shade of red splashed across your cheeks.

The other crewmembers notice how listless he has become – the carefree Kazuha always with an easy smile on his face now performs his task methodically and robotically. The poetry and flowery words that used to flow easily from his lips have essentially ceased, his wellspring of inspiration have dried up without you, his muse, around.

Kazuha finds his eyes directed towards the ship where you're at a couple of times a day, even in the middle of doing his work.

Are you faring all right? Are you eating and sleeping well? Please don't get sick.

Please come back to me.

He is lost in thought until he hears Juza scolding him for neglecting his duties.

Finally, when everyone has recovered from the sickness thanks to your efforts and the period of quarantine is over, Kazuha feels a flicker of hope in his heart. However, that hope is quickly dashed when Yinxing tells him that you're at the Bubu Pharmacy, occupied with something. And even before he could ask if he can go, Beidou and Juza have began to pile duties and tasks on his shoulders.

The Crux is preparing for another trip to Inazuma to deliver some important shipment, and all hands are needed on deck to arrange everything. The captain works everyone to the bone, to the point where at the end of the day all he wants to do is slump down and sleep the night away.

Before he drifts away, however, he notices the empty space of your hammock and curls into a ball, aware of the cold chilling him to the bone without you there.

"Please, Captain." Kazuha entreats for the second time, standing ground against Beidou's stare. He woke up that morning with even more conviction than before, doing all his work with time to spare by using his Vision to boost his speed. He will talk to you today, no matter how much the gods want to make it hard for him.

Beidou, not oblivious to the dark circles under his eyes and the forlorn expression on his face that he only shows when he thinks no one is looking. It makes her shudder to be reminded of how much it is similar to how he used to act when she first take him on.

"All right," she acquiesces. "You can go, but I don't know where she is."

"She's at the Bubu Pharmacy," Yinxing joins in. "I think (Y/N) said something about a job offer."

Beidou's eyes widen, this information new to her as well. She's just about to say something when a breeze blows up her hair, and when she turns around all she sees is the faint image of autumn leaves drifting down.

Kazuha has never run so fast in his life, even faster than the time he has to escape the Shogun's forces. His Vision shines and rattles as he concentrates Anemo energy onto his feet to boost himself forward. All the while, the wind – or his own mind – sneers into his ears.

Will you make it this time, wanderer? Or will she too slip through your fingers?

He sprints through the streets of Liyue, stirring up a gale wherever he passes, but he disregards the surprised shouts and yells of the people. He only has one destination in mind, and he has to make it. He has to.

Even when his legs beg for him to stop and his heart is just about to beat out of his ribcage, Kazuha does not stop running until he finally arrives at the flight of stairs leading up to the pharmacy. He halts to catch his breath, and when he lifts his head he spots a familiar head of (h/c) hair.

You stare at him like a prey being cornered, and before he can even say anything you have already dash down the stairs and sprint toward the path leading to Mt. Tianheng.

"(Y/N)!" Kazuha screams and run after you, not even minding the curious looks the others are giving him. He silently curse under his breath, wondering how he doesn't know you can run that fast. But he still does have the blessing of the wind on his side, and soon enough he is able to catch up to you.

"Wait! Please!" He grasp onto your wrist as gently as possible, but not loose enough that you'll be able to run away from him, as even now you're struggling to escape from his hold. "You don't have to say anything, but please, just listen to me." His eyes are pained as you turn your back to him, obscuring him from being able to look at your face.

"I know what I said was wrong. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, no matter how angry I was. I should have been calmer, should have been gentler with you. I was just–" Kazuha feels like a lump is caught in his throat. "I was so scared when I saw you there on the ground. Almost everyone dear to me has been taken from me right in front of my eyes, and I couldn't bear the sight of you being in danger. Losing you would mean the death of my soul, and the world will become dull and gray."

He keeps going, briefly noticing how you have become still for a moment. "Even so, that does not excuse my behavior. I made you feel like you are less than your worth, and for that mistake I can never forgive myself. You are enough. You are more than enough. No matter what people say, you are brilliant, remarkable, extraordinary, that and more. The other crewmembers would not have recovered from that illness if not for you. After every celebration everyone would have been hungover until the end of time if not for your miraculous hangover cure. The soldiers at Watatsumi is thankful for your help in tending to the wounded. Even I would not have gone through that fever without your caring touch."

You still don't say a word, but he is more than willing to pour his heart out to you. "Do you want to know one of the reasons why I love you? It's these hands." His fingers leave your wrist to hold your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. He breathes a sigh of relief when you don't flinch away from his touch. Kazuha shivers at finally being able to hold your hand after days without you. Your hand is small in his, but he knows the hidden strength behind them.

"These hands that have picked and plucked flowers and dug into the ground for roots. These hands that have pounded and mixed herbs and ingredients tirelessly until they became paste. These hands that have soothed and wiped away sweat and tears. Countless wounds and injuries have been dressed and tended to by these hands."

He holds back the desire to raise your hand to his lips and kiss each of your fingertips. "You are worthy. You are irreplaceable. No one can compare to you."

There is only silence as he finishes, and Kazuha's stomach twists into knots the longer you remain quiet. "(Y/N), you really don't have to say anything. You don't even have to forgive me if you don't want to. But please, will you look at me?"

Another moment of silence pass, this one making him even more anxious than the last. He opens his mouth to say something when suddenly he hears your voice.

"Those Duskblooms are said to have cooling properties that can treat burns," you say softly. "You've been telling me that your burn has been bothering you lately, so I was hoping that I can develop a new kind of ointment that can help with that."

His mouth drops open and his heart skips a beat, not only from finally being able to hear your voice, but also due to the rush of guilt overwhelming him.

"By the Archons," his voice shakes. "I really don't deserve you."

You finally turn around, but your eyes are still downcast. "I'm sorry."

Kazuha shakes his head vigorously. "I should be the one saying sorry to you. I'm sorry for making you feel like a burden. I'm sorry for comparing you to the Traveler. I'm sorry for implying that I don't want to travel with you anymore."

You raise your head to meet his eyes and is immediately struck with the sincerity and remorse swimming in them. But there's a far more important emotion that you see.

Unbridled, unrestrained, ardent love.

You choke back a sob as you let yourself fall into his chest, letting yourself be swathed in the warmth that you have missed so much. He immediately wraps his arms around you, feeling like he can finally breathe normally again.

"I was so scared–" You tremble in his embrace. "I was so scared you've finally realized I'm not worthy to be by your side. I was so scared you realize you can do much better than me."

He holds you even closer, completely enveloping your small form with his. "Never. Never, never. You will always be the one for me. There will never be anyone else that I want to fall in love with. You are my muse, my inspiration, the light of my life. You help anchor me to the ground when I find myself lost in the clouds, but you never hold me back." He's aware of the fact that your tears are making his kimono wet, but he doesn't care. For tears too, are falling from his eyes. "A place is not home to me if you're not there."

Kazuha let you empty out all your emotions while he run his fingers through your hair and occasionally whispering affectionate and reassuring words into your ears.

"I promise I won't place myself in a position of danger so recklessly again," you say once your crying dies down.

"And I promise to always protect you and never make you feel anything but less than yourself." Kazuha kisses the top of your head. "You are, and forever will be, truly wondrous in my eyes."

"And perhaps, if need be, some people say running is the best thing to do."

He laughs lightly at your attempt at a joke. "You, my dear, have certainly proven yourself to be a fast runner indeed."

The Alcor's crew's ears perk up at the sound of your laughter, mixing in with Kazuha's airier one. Some of them peer overboard to see the two of you walking along the shore hand in hand, lost in each other's eyes.

And all seems right with the world.

[acozysoulwrites]

He can’t dance | B.H

Description: Billy Hargrove asks you to go to the snowball dance, but he can only take so much of it before he's ready to bail, so you dance to a couple of songs and end up driving out of Hawkins to stargaze after.

Warnings: cursing, spicy, not smut

His blue jean jacket lays loosely over my bare shoulders. When I breathe in I can smell the slightest remanence of smoke, weakly covered by a ton of cologne. It smells like home.

Billy stares into the stars blankly, I can't read his expression right now, not like I usually can. He takes a long drag of his cig, turning his head away from me as he exhales.

"You have fun tonight?"

I blink, bringing myself out of my head. It's rare that he starts the conversation. It's usually me scraping the corners of my mind just to get him to speak to me for more than a few minutes. He's been so withdrawn ever since that night. I get sick thinking about it.

I nod, wrapping his jacket tighter around my chest. "Yeah, I did," I say softly, glancing at him.

"Okay"

I chew my bottom lip nervously, "Did you?" I dare to ask, inching closer to him, our shoulders touch and he turns, looking at me suddenly.

He's silent for a minute, and I think that maybe I've asked too much.

"I can't dance" He speaks, frowning back to the sparkling sky.

He can't dance? That's not what I remember. I smile to myself, remembering Billy's eyes the moment he let the music take over. How free and colorful he looked, how he spun me around, how we owned that corner of the gym to ourselves, how it was just me and him in that huge place.

"You did a pretty good job" I laugh, my heart is still racing. I'd never seen him in such a ... normal... state before.

I get lost in my thoughts when it goes quiet again.

Suddenly he rolls onto his elbow, now towering over me.

"Billy?"

I watch, frozen to the hood of the Camaro, his bigger figure blocking out all light of the moon from my face. When he leans over me and his lips brush against mine. Everything stops.

"Why the fuck do you make me feel like this?" He asks, he sounds angry and desperate, but really, he's just confused as to why he's feeling any other emotion besides anger or emptiness. My heart clenches as he eyes me with longing, confused eyes.

He hesitates from kissing me, pulling back so that he can see my face again. "I don't like it" he whispers as his fingers run along my face. It's like he's studying me, trying to find any explanation as to why he wants more from me than a casual fuck every now and then.

"You sure about that?" I ask, glancing down. I trail my hand down his chest and stomach, stopping at his jeans loop.

He groans "Stop it", but his tone isn't demanding, not how it usually is, telling me everything I need to know to keep going. He doesn't want me to stop, we both know that.

"You know that you're the prettiest fucking boy I've ever seen?" I ask, my fingers sliding just inside the top of his jeans.

"What?" He chokes, his voice lowering to a whimper.

"You heard me, god Billy if I could show you how you look in my eyes..."

His emotions are everywhere, so instead of remaining calm, Billy does what he does best.

"Just shut up" He begs, grabbing my hand from his hip and pinning it above my head.

"You're so fuckin pretty in my jacket" He whispers, kissing my neck.

I don't bother trying to get the sensitive side of him back, he's gone for tonight. Now, all that's left to do is watch Billy. He's all worked up, tired from a night of horrible dancing, and overstimulated with compliments. His hair becomes damp from the heavy thick air and I can't stop staring.

-

(Literally what is the ending, anyways idk this is just another drabble of how mad Billy drives me sorry)

[sunshineistyping]

HIII I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SMMMM

Uh,, is it okay if i have moon x reader who are honestly a night guard taking over Vanessa's shift for the night (she had to go somewhere), so after like an hour of going around, she takes a break at the main stage before going on it to experience what it's like. Then she kinda just.. start playing music on the speakers, (idk what happened to me these past few days but i am rn obsessed with Sway by Michael Buble!) And started like slow dance on her own on stage! Moon maybe is admiring her or even suddenly joins her by slow dancing together GSHSNSKHD I'M SORRY I JUST LOVE MOON SM

Also! I just realized i used she/her pronounce for reader but you can make it gn if you prefer that! Please have a nice day!

Thank you so much, you’re so sweet! I love that song, pairs well with the story!

Swoon

Pairings: Moondrop/Moon x Fem!Reader

There's no way Moon doesn't call his partner Lamb, Darling, or Doll, it just feels right man

Au: None

Warnings: Slightly suggestive dancing?

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You would’ve preferred to be anywhere but here right now. You’d picked up Vanessa’s weekend shift as a favor and it was much harder work then you thought. A constant patrol of this massive building for six hours? Yeah, not very kind to your feet. It didn’t matter what you tried to do, everything brought you right back to the main stage. Maybe you’d just been going in circles. You glanced at your watch in hopes that you’d only have an hour left, but no, you still had four. It’s not like the security bots can’t work right? You have time for a little break. You make your way to the large stage and immediately flop down onto it.

The cold floor pressed beneath your back as you stared up at the ceiling. What could you do to pass the time? There was always scrolling on your phone but it would probably die faster. You could make a pizza? Eh, you’re not all that hungry. You also don’t really feel like being mauled by Chica today. Hm, I mean, the place was empty of human life aside from you. So what could go wrong with a little dancing? You made your way up to the third floor, there had to be something to connect your phone too. A few speakers or the main stage lights? You could play out one of your fantasy’s!

Would you be in a giant ball gown and be a princess? No, but you’d be dancing on a stage with beautiful lighting! You connected your phone to the speakers, flicking on a song you’d been listening too nonstop. It was definitely more of a two person dance but who said you couldn’t dance alone? There’s enough sass in your hips for two people. You flicked off all the other lights that you had access too in the main hall before turning on a single red light right above the stage. Oh yeah, just the look you wanted. There’s nothing wrong with a little flavor as your background. You made your way back to the stage, replaying the song and setting your phone to the side.

You started with a steady one two beat, swaying your hips gently from side to side as your legs kept the beat. Your upper half slowly loosened up, allowing you to incorporate your arms and the way your hair moved to the song. You didn’t know it, but lurking not too far away in the dark was Moon. He’d been watching you dance for only about a minute but he was so utterly fascinated with your movements. In every shift of your hair, swish of your hips, and rolling of your wrists. He couldn’t even stop himself as he came up to the stage. He didn't speak, instead he offered a single hand. You didn't even hesitate to take it.

You’d blame it on the energy the song gave you, but for now, you were too focused on the way this animatronic kept up with you. You knew Moon just barely, but you're pretty sure this kind of dance wasn't in their programming. Let alone any dance at all. You're almost shocked at how easily he moves at the same pace, keeping his hands on your waist as you both moved together. Your arms wrapped around his neck. You didn't mind being this close to him, not at all. I mean, especially not when he was controlling the rhythm of your movements. What had started as a simple solo dance had turned into a duo and you couldn't even complain. He didn't hesitate to hold your hand and allow you to circle him, didn't hesitate to shift your weight and lightly toss you between his arms.

He let the music control the both of you, whatever pause would happen would just be a time to pose you in his arms. When the music got louder he’d hold your hips tight as you rolled them, deeply enjoying how pleased you were with something this simple. Was it just that he was dancing with you or just that you loved to dance? It didn't matter all that much to him. At last the song ended and Moon had dipped you, one arm still on his shoulder and the other lightly thrown back in one of the most dramatic dips you've ever shared with someone on the dance floor. Did he just fall in love with you from one dance? Yes, he's pretty sure he did. Did you suddenly want to get to know this animatronic better because you were feeling butterflies? Also yes.

“Hey, I didn't know you could dance like that.” You speak as he lifts you up and places you right back on your feet. Your hand running through your hair lightly. He shrugs, leaning all his weight onto one side.

“Didnt know you danced when you were supposed to be working.”

“As if you didn't dance with me just now.”

“Perhaps, but I'm never going to acknowledge it.”

“And why not?”

“Id have to admit I enjoyed dancing with you, not doing that after tonight.”

“Hah! So you did enjoy it!”

“I don't know, did I, Doll?”

“You did. That's why you're going to dance with me again.”

“Oh? I am?”

“You are, aren't you?”

“I suppose I am, if you insist.” He chuckles and let's you grab your phone to play a new song. Your cheeks are warm and you've never been more glad to be in a red light, with a deep sigh you chose another song. If you were gonna be stuck in this building, you might as well do something fun.

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