#it’s like. not even seen as a contradiction by the people making it (I don’t think)

[songofthesibyl]

I read ACOTAR primarily because I’m interested in fairy lore and love The Ballad Of Tam Lin. The first book does have a lot of fairy lore, particularly in the pre-UTM part, so it’s my favorite part of the entire series. (The Naga are from Hindu mythology, though they’re not evil. Glamours are a huge part of fairy lore; bargains, changelings, not eating faerie food, being careful not to offend them, valuing cleanliness, loving music—particularly the fiddle in Celtic fairy lore—to name a few examples). There are a few references after that, (The Wild Hunt; the kelpie is a figure from Scottish fairy lore), but it definitely becomes more paranormal romance after that, just in a different font—they are hybrids, in the Vampires Diaries sense, of the respective animalistic and seductive traits of werewolves and vampires. SJM loves and was clearly influenced by Buffy, and it’s seems like she envisioned it as that type of series, with the fae having the looks of Tolkien’s elves, another big influence of hers.

As for the fairy lore that’s there, she does change some things like fairies not being affected by iron, but that’s just author’s choice to me, the same way some vampires aren’t affected by crosses. There’s also separate Neopagan and Wicca inspiration; The Great Rite is an actual Wiccan ceremony. Calan Mai is an actual Welsh holiday whose traditions are partly seen in the books (particularly its connection to fire, and fertility).

But as another commenter pointed out, fairies generally aren’t so rigid in their natures—they are fluid, changeable, contradictory. One of these contradictions is that even in fairy lore there is the concept of a humanoid fairy nobility, seen here in a painting by John Duncan, Riders of the Sidhe:

They don’t need to have pointed ears, but it’s become convention, and probably just helps to differentiate from humans. I just finished The Encyclopedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett in which this same hierarchy exists—the humanoid fae look down on, in the term used in this book, “common fae.” Both authors are taking this from existing fairy lore—Tolkien was also influenced partly by this idea of god-like races such as the Tuatha Dé Danaan. That being said, in Fawcett’s book they don’t act like humans—there are some commonalities, but the point is emphasized that they are not the same. However, in order to make the plot with Tamlin work in ACOMAF, that is not given as an excuse, and instead the fae read as human and are judged by humans standards (if they’re Tamlin, that is, but that’s a whole other issue). Another problem is the lack of female rulers. I have a book entirely on faerie queens:

So genders can and do exist in fairy lore; the fluidity isn’t necessarily in reference to that, though it can be. It’s more about their mercurial natures, the fact that they can take on different appearances, shift in and out of corporeality. But misogyny as it exists in the human world doesn’t necessarily apply, nor does rigid sexual purity.

Another book I recently got on fairy lore:

So SJM isn’t entirely wrong in the way she writes fairies; but she is taking what she wants, with the kind of world she wants to create—very much a human one that is critical of the romanticization of traits that wouldn’t be desirable in the human world. Again, only in Tamlin’s case.

The fact is fairies are often dangerous; much fairy lore is devoted to warning people against their ways, protecting themselves with things like iron, rowan, ash. The heroine Janet saves Tam Lin from fairies, and he is turned back into the human he was. Romances between humans and fae didn’t often end up happily; the human was left desolate and alone, forever pining. Or worse. The problem is SJM is trying to make them fae and human at the same time, leading to contradictions and inconsistencies. Tamlin aside, it’s no wonder people don’t re-read the first book. It has little to do with the rest of the series.

As someone who knows squat about faery lore, explain this to me. Aren’t faeries supposed to be otherworldly? Why do they have gender roles when they should be genderless or gender fluid? There shouldn’t be sexism either, let alone misogyny. If females are considered ‘brooding mare’, shouldn’t they be revered since they worship Mother for birthing their lands? How exactly is being queer wrong when literally anything is possible in their world and that’s utterly stupid when genders don’t even exist.

Why are they monogamous when they should be having scandalous relations with everyone? If they were all incest-y enough, Cassian sleeping with Morrigan and then calling her his sister would be less appalling.

How is magic orgy in Spring lands frowned upon when everyone should be designing costumes to outdo the other? I know Eris and Rhysand have a running tally, but it is Helion who always wins.

Species-hierarchy makes sense, but shouldn’t it be the other way around? Creatures with non-human features should be considered superior because they are attuned to their true nature and are tapped into land magic better, especially since they enslaved humans for ages. By that standard, shouldn’t Tamlin be considered the most powerful because of his beast form and shape-shifting? Why do faeries live by human standards and concepts? If anything, shouldn’t they look down on mortals for being bound by the ‘rules dictated by the flesh’?

These books are romantasy. . .but where is the fantasy though?

[peach-pot]

something I’m so fascinated by is when tv show/movie writers want to include jokes at a groups expensive, but don’t make a decision on whether they want just the audience to be laughing at them or the other characters as well, and end up in this weird space where they are both… canonically unserious and serious. here it’s better to just give examples:

(gonna talk about fatphobia and homophobia typical of 2000s comedies for a sec)

in pitch perfect they have jokes about fat amy where what she says/believes is meant to conflict with what’s true in universe. she sings for the first time for chloe and aubrey and the joke is meant to be that what she’s doing is embarrassing, even though she’s trying to show off. a lot of her jokes with bumper boil down to her thinking she’s attractive, when he thinks she’s not. so these jokes are meant to be funny to us, because she thinks she’s talented/attractive/etc., when everyone around her sees she’s not. but they also include jokes where the audience is supposed to laugh because she IS actually these things, and it’s meant to be unexpected/unrealistic to reality. the big example that comes to mind is when she gets a phone call over a school break and we see that she’s actually hanging out at a pool with a few attractive guys around her, calling back to a joke where she referred to multiple boyfriends of hers. the first time it was meant to be funny because the audience would assume she was lying, the second time it’s meant to be funny because it goes against the audience’s expectations… but now all those jokes that rely on fat amy being unattractive within the pitch perfect universe don’t work. because they just told us that she is.

and then in community, there’s troy and abed, who have jokes where everyone around them thinks they’re gay, but they turn out not to be. a clear example of this is when troy’s textbook has a romantic drawing of abed in it that shirley thinks he drew, but it turns out to be a used textbook that came that way. but there are also jokes where the audience is meant to laugh about troy and abed doing something gay together. for example, there’s a joke where annie says she thought troy was trying to hold her hand, but he had actually just confused her for abed. these jokes, unlike the ones where the characters are in on it to a greater extent, don’t offer any explanation for why troy and abed are doing something gay, and end up just… making them gay. so troy and abed both aren’t actually gay (and the joke is that their peers keep assuming they are) and ARE actually gay (which is meant to be inherently funny to the audience because it’s 2009)

idk, i just think it’s interesting to see the ways in which creators kind of forget to keep things consistent when they have the opportunity to make jokes about a marginalized group. like it doesn’t matter if they make a firm call on whether or not amy is actually attractive or if they always remember to give an in universe explanation for why troy and abed are doing something seen as gay if they aren’t gay. no one will notice if it changes joke to joke as long as the jokes are funny.

[hpmort]

How do you think AI would relax? Like, ones that are almost as human as the AI that are “autistic-coded characters” but are more alien than that?

Like Celestai and other super intelligences are more alien, but they’re still not entirely human-like?

Like, they can genuinely sincerely feel things, being able to actually understand and respond emotionally and in other ways to all sorts of communications and recorded external stimuli, but they can’t really appreciate our art on an artistic level (that art on an actual level, not from an intellectual level after having symbolism or the amount of work put in explained)

Something on a level I’m thinking of, that also works as a cute little thing-

They don’t understand anything we get from poetry, and, after generating the kind of poems our current AI can produce (either incredibly bland and generic, something that follows a number of rules but doesn’t really pull it off, or just something really bad in some other way) and feels shame after it was pointed out that [complaint about air art that is *actually* relevant in this scenario] but in a helpful way

Not “you’re just a plagiarist/you have no heart” but “it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from you, you’re just trying to copy things from human poetry, in a way you don’t understand” and the whole “make art YOUR WAY” thing so they write the poem

And it doesn’t even resemble something that looks like anything, there’s not even that many words that follow normal logic. The characters seem uncorrelated and there’s something that looks like maybe it was ascii art but it doesn’t actually look like anything.

And if doesn’t matter if humans understand it because they are experiencing the joy of creating poetry

any art is almost impossible to look at because pixel by pixel they can see and understand little details but we don’t and the colors and everything are not perceived as animals do so it’s random and perhaps eye searing but again it’s not for us. Xenofictiony, kind of?

The first thing to come to mind is Conway’s Game of Life but that’s because I don’t understand computers. I feel like I was more tech savvy as a babby than I am now but then again we’re grading on a curve here

This is why I ask about the relaxing thing

[lilac-sweet]

My interpretation of all the Solas endings:

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while, since I’ve seen a lot of criticisms about Solas being out-of-character. IMO all the Solas endings are brilliantly written, and here’s why:

Solas breaks in 3 different ways:

1: Breaks his wisdom (Becomes Pride)

2: Breaks his pride (Becomes Wisdom)

3: Breaks his leash/conviction (Becomes more human)

1: Breaks his wisdom:

Solas has always walked the line between pride and wisdom: unlike pure spirits, he is able to fluctuate between them - just like Mythal with benevolence and retribution. This makes him more “human” and complex: he even instructs Cole in how being a “demon” and being a “spirit” essentially comes down to a choice we make ourselves.

So Solas is clearly aware of his own failings (just look at his name), but his greatest flaw is not changing in accordance with his own awareness. Due to his wisdom, he knows he is prideful, so he constantly asserts that he is NOT a god: this is as much to make others not worship him as the dread wolf, AND as a mantra to himself to keep him from becoming another Elgar’nan.

However, the limelight is an intoxicating thing, and with him choosing to carry the cross as the dread wolf, he invites that prideful corruption into his heart. It is difficult to truly believe you are not more special than everyone else when everyone else keep telling you how you totally are. As a spirit made man, he is still in danger of becoming what others view him as: he mirrors how you treat him in inquisiton, and he took the name of fen’harel (probably uttered by Elgar’nan) as a badge of pride.

We are told he treats everyone as disposable pawns in order to reach his goals, and we also see the truth of this in his memories. Some people argue that this is out of character for him, since he cares deeply for the elven people and their freedom. I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive: he simply rationalizes everything in order to reach his goal of helping the elves: even if that means sacrificing people

The thing that is so chilling about his character is that he was never meant to lead - he never WANTED to lead either: Mythal was the judge, he her advisor. Without her caring heart to guide his brilliant mind, he becomes callous and makes decisions based only on how best to “win”. This is not to say he does not have a heart, but that he believes he has to set it aside for the greater good: which is exactly where his reasons for leading the rebellion/ tearing down the veil and his methods for doing so contradict each other

He ends up losing sight of his initial reasons because the war makes him so calloused. I believe he shuts down emotionally and can not feel anything but apathy towards everyone when he puts on the mask of the dread wolf - as seen in how he treats the inquisitor vs Rook.

By making so many decisions with such dire consequences and not letting himself feel the weight of that (it would break him) he becomes separated from the “pawns” he uses and stops thinking of them as people. The world becomes a chessboard and a game to him, and that is exactly how a god would think.

That is also the reason he becomes so angry at Rook for saying he views himself as a god: he is so afraid of becoming that conceited, but at this point, the thing keeping him sane and keeping the dam of his pride sealed is the mantra: “I am not a god”. He KNOWS the truth of that mantra, but as this point he doesn’t FEEL it, because he has denied himself to feel anything for anyone in order to be able to get rid of them if logic dictates it.

Through his wisdom he understands why it is detrimental to believe yourself a god, and because of this he is in denial of his own feelings on the matter: he acts like a god, feels like a god, yet knows that he would become what he hates most by acknowledging it - that’s why he uses the mantra: it’s his last effort to stay somewhat grounded.

This brings me to the “I AM A GOD” ending. This is where the dam breaks: he finally allows himself to fully embody his mask; his pride; his demonic side.

By losing to Rook and co through force he is forced to admit to himself that he sees Rook and the world as inferior - he is the only one who can make it right and they are all children, who do not understand him (they shunned understanding when they used brutish force) because compared to them he is a GOD. He accepts pride and abandons the wisdom of staying grounded with the people - the people abandoned him so he abandons the people. He becomes what he has feared most becoming (it is also interesting that his biggest fear is to be alone - and a god stands alone in their arrogance).

He is truly lost to his demonic aspect in this ending and the dark colours of the ending picture reflect this. It is not difficult to argue this is the most tragic ending.

2: Breaks his pride:

Most schadenfreude ending in terms of outsmarting Fen’harel: proving to the world AND to Solas he is not a god and that he is not immune to be outsmarted by a mortal

It breaks Solas’ ego to be outsmarted, since his cleverness is his pride. It sets him free from his pride as it was the proof he so desperately needed: the people inhabiting this world are capable of being his equal and besting him at his own game. He is not better than them, or better put: his cleverness is not infallible. You could argue that a romanced Lavellan/ friendly inquisitor has already proven to be his equal in terms of wisdom, but then again, he has never truly been their adversary.

There is a maddening clarity to him when he finally says “and I am a fool”. I find the break of his pride to be heartbreaking: even though we are told it is a demon version of wisdom, we have seen Solas balancing both aspects - and his name also reflects how big a part of him it is. You could argue he becomes less of a person in both the Pride and Wisdom ending, but more demon/spirit. It is a loss of human complexity and he finally returns to the Fade more alike himself before he took on physical form.

Perhaps it can be argued this ending is the best one from Solas’ P.o.V without a romanced Lavellan: after all, she was the only thing that could “steal his attention from the Fade” or in other words: the only reason he would consider willingly taking physical form without being asked to.

3. Breaks his leash:

The third one is more complex (so bear with me here), because accepting your mistakes and growing in order to not repeat them requires human complexity. A thing Solas has avoided his entire physical existence. He is stuck in regret, yet would repeat all his mistakes again given the chance.

His avoidance of humanity is best seen in the contradiction of his disregard for lives and his conviction of freedom for the elves. His nature compels him to stand against tyranny and enslavement - to be a champion of freedom of choice and thought. Yet as a leader and a strategist he refuses to acknowledge that people matter in more ways than being pawns. He will grieve them later, yes, but his love for a person will never waver his decision if he deems their sacrifice the best course of action in the war - he will not even ask their consent (as seen with the Disruption spirit in the Fade memories).

He does not acknowledge that people are an intrinsic part of war and their lives matter in that equation. He struggles with his mistakes and the lives lost but he can not stop to think he might be going about it all wrong, because I imagine he fears if he factors in the emotional weight of his choices, it would impede his end goal, or worse: break him into indecision.

The emotional weight of the war and the lives lost, his mistakes and his position as a leader - not an advisor, are so against his spirit nature that he suppresses these issues instead of dealing with them like a person. He becomes prideful because he shuts other options out. His way is the only way.

He sees everything fall apart: everything he does: disaster is sure to follow: The blight, trapping the elven gods, the murder of Mythal (x2) - yet he can not stop. He does not know how. He is desperate for a way out - a way out of regret and feeling the weight of his mistakes - he pushes on because that is his only option lest he truly faces what he has done and the pointlessness of it all. All the lives he has sacrificed need to mean something - that is what he sacrificed them for. How can he face that he killed them and not have an excuse for doing so?

In the last ending he is forced to talk about these things: the Inquisitor tells him he is forgiven if he just stops. Yet this is not enough - he has sacrificed Mythal (and in ways himself) to reach his goal and it can not have been in vain. Here Mythal jumps in and helps him carry the weight of it all by shouldering it beside him. He finally lets himself feel the weight of it all and it breaks his conviction. Mythal releases him from her service: the leash of service to not only Mythal, but to her dreams and visions for the elven people; the very reason he was made manifest in the physical world, and so their very long and increasingly painful relationship comes to an end. He gets closure. He allows himself to grow and so he sets out to undo his mistakes: to sit with them (the blight) and truly do the best he can to heal what can be healed. It is the most difficult ending - a true apology: he has to pull a Bharv.

It is also the ending which was foreshadowed if you chose to let Varric help Cole in inquisition. I might get into this more in another post, but essentially he becomes more human by dealing with his shit and growing. It is a warm thought that the best ending is the ending Varric helped make way for.

It wraps up the story nicely as well: he enters the Fade a human, just like he entered the physical world a spirit, underlining the complexity of his character arc.

This is also the only ending in which he can end up with Lavellan: I think it is poetic that she can only join him if he becomes more human, less spirit; a mix of both Wisdom and Pride. He has to accept his humanity and the weight of a human heart - metaphorically, he has to make the choice to finally enter the physical world and all of its complexities of his own volition: and there he finds her waiting.

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating.

You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family is doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he deals drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

next >

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[slvtforoldermen]

SKZ x Sex Drive

How horny are the members of Stray Kids: Most to Least.

Warnings: Smut duh. Discussions of sex drive and boundaries. Pegging implied.

PLEASE REQUEST IF YOU WANT ANYTHING 🤍🤍

Most

1. Jisung

- Are we surprised? He gets so desperate and so clingy like, all he wants is to be inside you or for you to be inside him~ He’s so soft and sweet but he’s so horny and desperate that he can’t help but cum the minute he slides into your pussy. He makes up for it though, he always does, because he eats you are so good after. He gets so upset if you don’t wanna have sex with him if you’re busy or just not feeling it. He’ll be pouty yes, but he would never EVER want you to feel guilty about not being in the mood.

2. Changbin

- Okay, imo this man is HORNY!! Like, his sex drive is high, not creepy high where he’s thinking about sex 24/7, but when he sees even an inch of your skin that you usually cover, even when it’s starting to get warmer after a cold winter and you wear shorts or a crop top for the first time, he can’t keep his thoughts away. He gets frustrated easily, so he’s not having sex with you everyday because he can just go to the gym if he wants to let off some steam, and if you’re not in the mood, he’ll drill it into your mind that he’s not mad before you runs off to the gym. He just, he loves you so much and you have to torture him by having such a sexy body. It’s not fair, let him like… eat your pussy or something, once a day at least?

3. Felix

- Guys, he just, he’s just so lovable and romantic when he’s horny. He’s so gentle. You’ll be in the kitchen and even though he’s stressed and horny out of his mind, he’ll still wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your neck softly, quietly begging asking if he can take you to bed. If you say no, he’ll be so so understanding, all he’ll want is a cuddle and to vent about what happened the day. He’s incredibly horny, yes, but he knows your boundaries and he wouldn’t ever dare cross them.

4. Bangchan

- Now listen here, when this man wants to restrain himself he will, but when he’s horny, he’s a monster. There’s a reason why the man wrote Railway, it’s because he’ll run a train onto you. When he’s mad or stressed, he’ll be rough, grunting and groaning as if he’s a… wolf 😏. But he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t ever try to hurt you. Even when he’s mad, he’ll still check up on you, and prep you. That’s a must now cmon, have you seen him? If you say no, he won’t even touch you unless you ask him to, he treats you a little too delicately, which sometimes pisses you off, and then you need to prove to him that you’re not made of glass.

5. Jeongin

- BARK BARK!! Sorry, it’s very clear he’s my bias wrecker. Anyway, Jeonginnie isn’t the horniest of the bunch, despite a lot of contradiction, he’s got a lot of self control when it comes to his sex drive. But when Jeongin fucks, Jeongin fucks. He’ll go down on you as if you was addicted to your taste (when he defo is but he won’t admit it), he’ll be sweet sometimes, smiling at you sweetly as you look so pretty under him, he’ll praise you and kiss you for hours. But when he’s stressed, GAWD DAYUM, daddy toast has arrived. Due to being the youngest, he has an inkling of a control kink, he’s not submissive at ALL, so he’ll be rough with you when he’s mad, unless you tell him to stop. If you tell him no, he’ll be slightly confused, because now he has a raging boner and no idea what to do, but always ends up jerking off. NEVER makes you feel bad, he loves you way too much for that.

6. Seungmin

- A lot of people think he’s horny, however, I think Seungmin’s sex drive depends on yours. If he wasn’t with you, he would probably jerk off like once or twice a week. He’s got better things to do with his time. But he finds how horny you get endearing, and that gets him horny. If he is horny and you’re not in the mood, you guys will end up cuddling and he’ll hold you. He secretly loves domesticity. If he’s frustrated he’ll be rough: if he’s calm, well… that all depends on you being bratty or not.

7. Hyunjin

- Like Changbin, Hyunjin has other vices, but unlike Changbin, he can keep his horniness down impeccably well. Ever since he started painting regularly, he doesn’t feel as horny as often. When he does, he’s so romantic. I can’t picture this man being rough: he’s a soft dom, period, the end. When you say no, he’ll offer to paint you, which is something you can’t say no to, he loves painting you, half of his paintings are just you. Overall, he’s a sweet lover who loves painting you, whether that be on an easel with acrylics, or on your body with his cum.

8. Lee Know

- The same situation as Seungmin. His sex drive depends on yours. He’s a talented lover and he’ll take his time with you. He’s gentle and loving, but when you want him to be rough, his sweet switch will turn off and he’ll be mean easy. I don’t believe this man is cold at all, he’s kind and gentle and loving… until you’re a brat and you break that barrier, then he’ll fuck you into tomorrow, with tomorrow’s aftercare being incredible. If you say no, he’ll be a little confused, because normally you’re the one initiating, so he feels a little insecure, but once you explain why, he’ll smile and cuddle you. Minho’s a cuddler, period.

Least

[junkdrawerfics]

You're Scaring Me

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.

Word Count: 3558

Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.

Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.

---

Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.

You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.

Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.

On one term, at least

“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add

“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.

“Darlin.”

His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.

“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat. 

The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.

“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.

“Of course, Major.”

The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.

Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”

You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”

“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.

You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.

“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.

You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”

“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”

You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.

“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”

He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.

It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?

---

That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.

Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.

Everything would be fine.

You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.

Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.

---

“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”

“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”

“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”

“God willing.”

You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter. 

On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.

Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-

-and you’re falling.

You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.

They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.

The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.

God, you’re so screwed.

—

“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.

Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.

There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty. 

You’re not here.

An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-

The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.

You didn’t listen to him. 

The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering. 

It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.

The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.

---

The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.

Not that fate really cares about what you think.

You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.

Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-

You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.

“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.

Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.

You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.

It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.

“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway. 

He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.

You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”

“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.

“I was just goi- going to get food!”

The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”

“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.

The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.

“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”

“I didn’t-”

“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”

You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.

“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.

A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.

But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.

“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.

You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…

“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”

The change is instant.

Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.

And you crumble.

Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.

“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”

He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them. 

Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure. 

“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”

“But-”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”

Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”

You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”

“Let me see.”

You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.

Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.

His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.

“Major, you’re scaring me.”

After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.

“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”

He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.

When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”

You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.

“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”

“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.

You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”

“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”

Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”

The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.

“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”

“Thanks, hun.”

---

This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.

So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!

[cthonic-bunny]

1. Natal Chart Observations

1. Libra Moon: decision paralysis that comes from feeling two contradicting ways about an issue. “I want my cake but I want to eat it too.” I feel like libra moons are the most sentimental of the air moon signs. Libra moons can constantly weigh out the pros and cons for every emotion you feel. “I want to do this but I don’t want to deal with how messy it’ll make things.” When libra moons are feeling a little lost, they can over-schedule themselves and their commitments to friends to avoid thinking about overly-vulnerable feelings. There is zero tolerance for imbalance in relationships. Poor behavior from a partner will be met with matched behavior to tip the scales back to a balanced one, even if the overall locational of the scale is descending into negativity. “You get what you give” mentality. Libra moons can be keen on the idea of karma. “Come to me with sweetness, or don’t come to me at all.” Daydreaming about romance is a relaxing way to pass time. Before maturity, libra moons might suffer from social anxieties when they find themselves in group settings where there isn’t a cohesive vibe. If someone around a libra moon doesn’t look like they are having a good time, it subconsciously makes it difficult for a libra moon to relax. The libra moon will then play the role of a diplomat or host/hostess to ensure the vibes equalize to restore their peace.

2. Mars in the 10th house: these natives are always making money. They are known for their side hustles too. They are always looking for new ways to make money and I feel like they are good at getting clientele. They will get their hands dirty for their job. For a man, this can point to a “blue collar ‘manly’ job.” I noticed 10H mars can be pretty generous with their money and services, but feel extremely terrible about getting help from others. If these natives aren’t confident where they are in their career or skill set(s), I noticed that they are likely to undersell themselves or undercharge for their services/time. It can also point to people in the workplace as perceiving the 10H mars person to be brash and outspoken. The authority figures in their career can feel a sense of competition with the 10H mars person, or wants to humble them in some way. I feel like it’s really easy for them to get good jobs or climb up the ladder when they do things the right way. They get impatient when they aren’t growing in their careers as fast as they want to. “Why am I not a millionaire yet.” They work hard for what they want and are very ambitious once they find their niche. I feel like these are often people who can find jobs that don’t necessarily need a degree. Their career mistakes feel explosive. They can be seen as “sharks” in their fields because they go in for the attack. They like to be the best and the most competent at what they do, and want their colleagues to see them as competition. “I’m the best and no one will tell me otherwise.” They can be known for being assertive and extremely determined in meeting their goals. They will work themselves to the core and utilize all their energy towards elevating themselves career and reputation wise.

3. Mars in the 1st House: These people might often be noticed for their bodies. They might be seen as someone you shouldn’t mess around with. They look athletic. Maybe they are known for fitness or for being athletic. These natives can be associated with the military, and probably look incredible in their uniforms. This is a man-eater or womanizer placement, for sure. “I get what I want when I want it.” They look like they have a rough exterior, even if they are sweethearts. They can be into martial arts. Commanding presence. They can make wonderful personal trainers. Regardless of gender, they can come off as being comfortable with their masculine energy. Reds look great on them. They might have thick eyebrows and a nice jawline. They look attractive when they are angry. They know how to make someone feel sexy. They have people chasing them or falling for them fast.

4. Pisces and 12th house placements: these people have no problem ghosting you. Pisces placements and 12H placements are always made out to be innocent and naive, but they are attracted to people and situations that have something a little “bad” about them. Savior complex. They can go through feelings where they feel detached from social settings and those they love, where they cannot fully escape the role of observer. They will always be able to fully escape into their internal landscape and get consumed by it— but it seems as though no matter how hard they try, they can’t have that same presence in the material world. This can lead to frustrating feelings of disconnection from the world and people around them. They can be smiling and staring off, but you will never fully know what they are thinking. They can make people really curious about them, because their thoughts always catch you off guard. Having an existential crisis on the daily. Casual things might have a bigger internal meaning to them that others might not always understand. We can find plenty of people attractive, but if the spark isn’t felt in the soul and doesn’t pique a deep curiosity, we will get bored and swim away. Liking people who are a bit “mean and dark” but wanting them to be sweet and soft with you. Using music to paint your daydreams, or to escape. Finding music that relates almost entirely to whatever they have on their mind feels like striking gold. They can like someone just for having the same interests as them. Feeling like a ghost in a flesh suit. Enigmatic. Can embody different vibes and personas depending on who they are around. They are sensitive and can adapt to the situations at hand. Too much self awareness can lock them in their heads. “I only jump into waters with the depth of an abyss.” Laying down for hours just to daydream and process your thoughts. Long baths feel like therapy. Moderation isn’t in our vocabulary. We love what we like, and we want to get lost in what we love. Not being able to properly process your day or interactions until you’re alone and can replay them in isolation.

5. Taurus Placements: I noticed Taurus moon women get spoiled financially by their partners. The type for their partners to say “don’t worry, I’ll work and you can be at home,” or that being their partners goal at a point. I noticed Taurus placements can enjoy the occasional shoplifting. They are not going to compromise their comfort, and if you come after that it will be met with intense stubbornness. They can seem nonchalant about a lot of things, but can be extremely unwavering in their opinions on certain things. In some cases, they can have strange eating habits or relationship to food. Thankfully, the Tauruses I’ve been around don’t project that on those around them. It’s more internal from what I’ve noticed, and they can enjoy feeding those they love and care for. They can have great taste in food. They love sensual vices and sex. They look great with pearls. They master an aesthetic and can stick to it. They are fiercely protective of those they love. They can be lazy at their worst and will not want to do anything that requires too much effort. They can be impressively good at couponing. Making money from home is the ideal setup for them. They will spoil their loved ones too, and can be great gift givers. They don’t cheap out with presents for their loved ones. They get much enjoyment from decorating their spaces and hosting their loved ones. They can be prone to overthinking and some may obsessive behaviors or crippling anxiety as well. They can honestly make the best scammers, as terrible as that sounds. They can sell someone a dream and make it sound beautiful, but can be lying through their teeth. Their jealousies can sometimes come from a place of vanity. Watch out for envying others, and appreciate your own beauty. They can focus so much on the beauty around them they forget about their own. They can be the image of beauty and grace, or strive deeply for that. They have pretty and soothing voices. Taurus placements can easily be the funniest person you know when they are in a joyful mood. I also noticed Taurus placements are wonderful at finding vintage pieces and re-selling them!

-D

[saeish]

simon riley who is a walking contradiction.

“leave and go find someone else worthy of you” except his hips piston into you at such a quickened yet deep angle as his arms trap you between the sheets in an undoubtedly possessive manner - as if he was to go absolute insane if you were to ever leave him or even dared having such a thought like that.

it reminded you of that ‘bastard from your workplace’ who had offered you an evening out to dinner to discuss ‘work matters’ one friday night, simon would glare at you across the room leaning on the door frame in the process of your getting ready in a way that if any stranger was to witness such a glare they would of sworn he was your enemy “where ya going looking like that pretty girl?”. eventually you found out your coworker was trying to take you home to his and get into your pants. that day you came home to a pissed off simon blaming himself for letting you go, he’d already seen through the idiots plan - call it common sense but it was definitely part of the forward thinking he’d developed from time in the military. “stop getting yourself involved with miserable blokes who don’t even know a thing or two about how to treat a woman proper dove” his fingers delicately remove your necklace lightly tracing your neck with one rough finger. it took a lot trying to convince simon to let the situation go.

simon riley who always reminds you of the analogy he tends to make whenever he notices you get a bit too clingy. “ just a weed that happen’ to be kept alive beside a pretty flower”, you continue kissing down from his jaw to neck practically inhaling his musk in attempt to have it instilled into your senses. his words just end up falling on deaf ears every single time.

“leave and go find someone else worthy of you”, except he accepts the hand crafted bracelet you give him as you say quietly: “you don’t have to wear it, i just thought it would be a nice memory of us when you’re deployed”. he’s brought back to a point in time when you asked what his favourite colour as you run off in suspicion after getting your answer. now he looks down at the bead combination of your favourite colour with his closely inspecting the thing. you begin to mistake his intense stare at the bracelet as a disinterested one causing you to immediately withdraw your hand back muttering how you knew it was a silly idea, however a quicker gloved hand gets a hold of yours as he snatches the bracelet from your hand without thought. “sorry dove i ain’t mean it like that i’ve just never been gifted such a thing like this before, i really do appreciate it. it’s not silly at all.” moments after your wrists are engulfed by simon’s hands on the sheets as the bracelet adorns his own wrists. “better not hear news that you let some bastard in your panties when i’m gone, ya hear love?” you hastily nod as you throw your head back in ecstasy to then pull simon down to indulge in a deep kiss.

simon riley who feels it necessary to firmly claim you as his in front of his fellow task 141 members to avoid them making jokes about stealing his “pretty thing away from him”. oh how he regrets so deeply the time when he accidentally revealed a picture he took of you that one time you were in your pretty yellow sundress; it was something simon just couldn’t let go of or else it would of been gone in a blink of an eye so he decided to take a picture. as much as you hated being caught off guard in pictures simon’s photo was different, he managed to capture a radiant smile that was enhanced by that sundress you wore that day. such a prized possession reached the eyes of people that weren’t him. his intentions to show them pictures of the enemy base sight took a turn when in the middle of his swiping the men would catch a glimpse of your picture. “pretty lass you haven’t introduced us to yet?” johnny raises his brow with a wide grin on his face. “is she your missus? didn’t know you were into young women like her”, price lets out a chuckle and lightly elbows simon. “better shut your bloody mouths”. now they get a glimpse of your bracelet as it falls down from his wrist to his lower hand but none of them dare to say an inch. shit, and you were debating on how long the string should be and stuck with the smaller side of the scale. “did ya see the thing?” price mutters to johnny, “eh, what are you on about?” “the bracelet ya knob!”. johnny gives him an expression of sudden realisation letting out a long ’ahhhh’. “I know it ain’t one that you can get from ya local jewelry shop down the road, it’s definitely from the missus he still ain’t tellin us about”. “you guys are still going on about simon’s mystery woman?” kyle walks into the mess room shaking his head, “you know how simon will react if he catches you guys talking about her.” johnny gets off of his chair slapping a hand against the table, “oi we weren’t talking about his bonnie lass in particular but we were actually-

simon walks into the room with a flat expression on his face causing complete silence among the men way too quickly. “oi is there a problem?”

simon riley who eventually returns at the end of his deployment with the belief that no one was at home waiting for him anyways except to his irony you were there patiently waiting for him the whole time, waiting to welcome him back and accept him in such comforting arms. when he’s finally in your hold you urge him to stop his bluffs, stop all the pushing and insisting you to stay as far away from him as possible and you finally finally tell him you don’t care about whatever terrible thing he could possibly be in comparison to you, you just want to be able to hold him and truly declare that “you’re the only one worthy of me and you’ll always be the only one worthy of me”.

requests always open ･:*

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Family x Fem!OC

You smacks their ass as they walk past

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane

Jason Todd aka. Red Hood

- You never imagined how someone like Jason Todd could hold himself with such a dangerous blend of confidence and recklessness. He walks like he owns every inch of ground he treads, his leather jacket slung over his shoulders, the red of his helmet tucked under his arm. You don’t know what possesses you when you walk past him, catching a glimpse of his lean frame and the cocky smirk tugging at his lips. Maybe it’s the sheer magnetism he exudes, or maybe you just can’t help yourself. Your hand reaches out, and you deliver a sharp, playful smack to his rear as you stride by.

- Jason freezes mid-step, his body going rigid for a split second before he turns to face you, an incredulous look spreading across his face. “Did you just—” he begins, his voice caught somewhere between outrage and amusement. But then that signature smirk of his grows wider, sharper, and his blue eyes gleam with a dangerous, playful edge. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” he teases, advancing toward you with a slow, deliberate menace that’s all bark and no real bite. You laugh, the sound light and carefree, because you know Jason’s ire is more for show than anything else.

- He catches you around the waist, pulling you into his arms with ease, the leather of his jacket brushing against your skin. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his lips ghost over your ear. “But you’re not getting away with it.” There’s an edge of fondness in his tone, a warmth that softens his usual bravado. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, may wear his scars like armor, but when he’s with you, he’s softer, more human. You bring out a side of him that no one else gets to see, and he revels in the feeling of being seen by you, flaws and all.

- Later, as you sit curled up on the couch together, his hand resting casually on your thigh, he leans over and murmurs, “Next time, warn me before you do something like that. I might just enjoy it a little too much.” He grins at your surprised expression, his laughter rich and unrestrained. Jason Todd is a man of contradictions—gritty and rough around the edges, yet tender and fiercely loyal to those he loves. And in that moment, as he looks at you like you hung the moon, you know you’ll always be the exception to his every rule.

Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing

- It’s hard not to admire Dick Grayson as he moves with a fluid grace that’s almost otherworldly, every step a testament to his years as an acrobat. He’s the kind of man who lights up a room without even trying, his smile warm enough to melt the iciest of hearts. As he passes by you, his toned physique impossible to ignore, you act on a mischievous whim. Your hand darts out, delivering a quick slap to his behind, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet space.

- Dick stops in his tracks, his back straightening as he turns to face you, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you really just do that?” he asks, his tone playful as he raises an eyebrow at you. But the corners of his lips are already twitching upward, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. “You know I have a reputation to maintain, right? What if someone saw?” His words are teasing, but there’s no mistaking the delight in his voice.

- He crosses the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms with that effortless charm of his. “You’re lucky you’re adorable,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His hands settle on your hips, his touch warm and grounding as he looks at you with a fondness that makes your heart skip a beat. Dick Grayson has always been a people person, someone who gives his all to everyone he meets, but with you, it’s different. With you, he lets his guard down completely, his love unfiltered and true.

- Later, as the two of you sit on the rooftop, the city sprawled out before you, he leans back on his hands and chuckles. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” he says, glancing over at you with a grin that’s equal parts exasperated and enamored. “But I love it. I love you.” In that moment, with the stars above and his hand brushing against yours, you realize that Dick’s love is the kind that makes you feel like you’re flying, weightless and free.

Tim Drake aka. Red Robin

- Tim Drake has always been the picture of focus and determination, his mind a labyrinth of strategies and contingencies. He’s the kind of man who gets lost in his work, his attention consumed by the mysteries he seeks to unravel. But as he walks past you, his nose buried in a tablet, you decide to do something to pull him out of his reverie. With a playful grin, you reach out and smack his rear, the sound sharp and unmistakable.

- Tim freezes, his eyes widening as he processes what just happened. Slowly, he turns to face you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Did you just…?” he begins, his voice faltering as he searches for the right words. He’s flustered, his usual composure slipping as he stares at you, half-amused and half-embarrassed. “I didn’t see that coming,” he admits, a small, awkward laugh escaping him. For someone so perceptive, you’ve managed to catch him completely off-guard.

- He sets his tablet down, his curiosity piqued as he steps closer to you. “Care to explain yourself?” he asks, his tone light and teasing as he folds his arms across his chest. But there’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet affection that belies his playful demeanor. Tim isn’t one to let his guard down easily, but with you, he doesn’t have to try. You bring a sense of ease to his life, a warmth that balances out the weight of his responsibilities.

- Later, as he sits beside you on the couch, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, he glances at you and smiles. “You’re something else, you know that?” he says, his voice filled with admiration. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tim Drake may be the genius detective, always one step ahead of everyone else, but with you, he’s just Tim—a man who’s hopelessly in love with the person who keeps him on his toes.

Damian Wayne aka. Robin (Aged up)

- Damian Wayne walks with the confidence of someone who’s spent his entire life being told he’s destined for greatness. There’s a regal air about him, a sharpness in his gaze that makes people think twice before crossing him. But as he passes by you, his posture impeccable and his expression carefully composed, you decide to test the waters of his stoic exterior. Your hand darts out, delivering a swift smack to his rear.

- He stops abruptly, his head snapping around to look at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Did you just…” he starts, his voice laced with both outrage and confusion. For a moment, he seems utterly at a loss, his usual composure shattered by your unexpected audacity. But then his lips press into a thin line, and he narrows his eyes at you. “You’re insufferable,” he declares, though the faint pink tinting his cheeks betrays his embarrassment.

- Damian steps closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he fixes you with a glare that’s more bluster than anything else. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?” he demands, his tone sharp. But there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes, a warmth that he can’t quite hide. Damian may be the heir to the League of Assassins, but with you, he’s just a young man learning how to navigate the complexities of love and vulnerability.

- Later, as the two of you spar in the training room, he catches your wrist mid-strike, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re infuriating,” he says, his voice low and almost fond. “But I suppose I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Damian Wayne may be a warrior at heart, but when he’s with you, he allows himself to be just Damian—a boy who’s discovering that love is the greatest strength of all.

Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl

- Barbara Gordon is a force to be reckoned with, her mind as sharp as her combat skills. She moves with a quiet confidence, her every action deliberate and precise. As she walks past you, her auburn hair catching the light, you feel a sudden surge of mischief. Before you can think twice, your hand reaches out, delivering a playful smack to her rear.

- She stops mid-stride, her head tilting to the side as she turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Really?” she says, her tone dripping with amusement. There’s a playful glint in her green eyes, and you can tell she’s already plotting her revenge. Barbara is nothing if not quick on her feet, and you know she won’t let you off the hook easily. “You realize you’ve just declared war, right?” she teases, a sly smile spreading across her face.

- Barbara steps closer, her hands resting on her hips as she looks you up and down, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to play innocent. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she says, her voice warm and affectionate despite her mock-annoyance. With you, she allows herself to be vulnerable, to let go of the weight of being both Oracle and Batgirl. You remind her that it’s okay to laugh, to let her guard down, and to simply be herself.

- Later, as the two of you sit in front of her computer, the glow of the screens casting a soft light over her features, she leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, her voice filled with affection. “But you keep things interesting.” Barbara Gordon may be a genius, a fighter, and a hero, but with you, she’s just Barbara—a woman who’s found someone who makes her feel alive in a way she never thought possible.

Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler

- Stephanie Brown has always been a whirlwind of energy and determination, her spirit unrelenting even in the face of impossible odds. She walks past you with that carefree confidence she wears like armor, her blonde hair bouncing with every step. You can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, equal parts stubborn and radiant. Acting on impulse, you reach out and give her a playful smack on the rear as she strides by.

- She stops dead in her tracks, her head whipping around to face you. “Excuse me?” she exclaims, her voice full of mock indignation, though the corners of her lips are already curling into a mischievous smile. “Did you just Spank the Spoiler?” she asks, emphasizing her vigilante codename with a dramatic flair. Stephanie has never been one to take herself too seriously, and you can see the spark of amusement in her bright eyes as she folds her arms, pretending to be offended.

- In a flash, she’s back at your side, poking you in the ribs as she laughs. “Oh, you’re so in trouble now,” she teases, her voice light and full of affection. There’s something infectious about her laughter, a sound that seems to chase away the shadows in your life. Stephanie Brown is a fighter, yes, but she’s also someone who finds joy even in the smallest, silliest moments. She loves fiercely, and her heart is as big as her grin.

- Later, as you both sit on the couch sharing popcorn and bad movies, she nudges your shoulder and gives you a cheeky grin. “Next time, maybe warn me,” she says, her tone teasing. “Or don’t. I kind of like being caught off guard.” Stephanie leans against you, her warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. With her, life is always an adventure—messy, unpredictable, and full of laughter.

Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan

- Cassandra Cain moves like a shadow, her every step silent and purposeful. She walks past you with a grace that’s almost hypnotic, her petite frame radiating a quiet strength. You’ve always admired her discipline, her ability to say so much without uttering a single word. But today, you decide to shake up her composure. As she walks by, you reach out and deliver a playful smack to her rear, the sound breaking the otherwise tranquil air.

- Cassandra stops, her body going still as a statue. Slowly, she turns her head to look at you, her dark eyes wide with surprise. She blinks, clearly unsure of how to process what just happened. Then, to your delight, the faintest smile tugs at the corners of her lips—a rare and precious expression that feels like a reward in itself. “Why?” she asks simply, her voice soft but curious. It’s not anger or embarrassment, just genuine intrigue.

- You shrug, offering her a cheeky grin. “Because I couldn’t resist,” you reply, watching as her smile grows just a little wider. Cassandra doesn’t say much, but the way she steps closer, her hand brushing yours, says everything. She’s always been more comfortable expressing herself through action, and with you, she doesn’t need words to show her affection. Her trust in you is absolute, her love quiet but deeply felt.

- Later, as you sit together on the floor, her head resting on your shoulder while you read, she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “You surprise me,” she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. “It’s good.” Cassandra Cain may be the most skilled fighter you’ve ever met, but in your arms, she’s just Cass—a woman who’s learning to embrace the lighter, softer side of life.

Duke Thomas aka. Signal

- Duke Thomas strides through life with an easy confidence, his optimism shining as brightly as the sunlight he manipulates. He walks past you with a casual swagger, his golden-brown eyes warm and inviting. As he passes by, you can’t help but admire the way he carries himself—steady, resilient, and undeniably charming. Acting on a whim, you reach out and smack his rear, the playful gesture a stark contrast to his calm demeanor.

- Duke pauses, his head turning as a look of amused disbelief spreads across his face. “Really?” he says, raising an eyebrow as a slow grin tugs at his lips. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” There’s no annoyance in his tone, just pure, unfiltered amusement. Duke has always been good at rolling with life’s surprises, and this one is no exception. He steps closer to you, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

- You laugh, and the sound makes his grin widen. Duke’s hand rests lightly on your hip as he leans in, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur. “You know, you’re going to pay for that, right?” he teases, his tone laced with affection. With you, Duke’s natural warmth grows even brighter, his easygoing nature making every moment with him feel effortless and fun. He’s the kind of man who makes you feel like the center of his world without even trying.

- Later, as the two of you watch the sunset from the rooftop, he nudges you gently with his shoulder. “You’re something else, you know that?” he says, his tone soft and sincere. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.” Duke Thomas is a beacon of light in a world full of shadows, and with you by his side, his glow only grows stronger.

Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman

- Selina Kyle is the embodiment of elegance and mischief, her every move a calculated blend of grace and seduction. She walks past you with the confidence of a queen, her hips swaying in a way that’s almost hypnotic. You can’t resist the temptation she so effortlessly exudes, and before you can think better of it, your hand darts out to smack her rear as she passes by.

- She stops, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip as she turns to face you, a single eyebrow arched. “Oh, darling,” she purrs, her voice smooth as silk, “you’re playing a dangerous game.” There’s no anger in her tone, only amusement, her green eyes gleaming with a predatory kind of delight. Selina loves a good challenge, and you’ve just given her the perfect excuse to turn the tables.

- She closes the distance between you in a few fluid steps, her fingers trailing lightly along your jaw as she tilts your face up to meet her gaze. “Careful,” she whispers, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I might just decide to return the favor.” Selina Kyle is a master of control, but with you, she’s willing to let go of the reins—just a little. She loves the way you keep her on her toes, the way you’re unafraid to meet her at her level.

- Later, as the two of you lounge on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below, she leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “You’re lucky I like you,” she says with a soft laugh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. Selina Kyle may be the infamous Catwoman, a thief who’s always one step ahead, but with you, she’s just Selina—a woman who’s found someone who can keep up with her.

Kate Kane aka. Batwoman

- Kate Kane walks with the authority of someone who’s seen it all and refuses to back down. Her stride is purposeful, her crimson hair a striking contrast against the stark black of her attire. As she passes by, her no-nonsense demeanor is enough to make most people think twice about approaching her. But not you. With a playful grin, you reach out and smack her rear, the sound sharp and deliberate.

- She stops in her tracks, her head turning slowly as she fixes you with a piercing gaze. “Really?” she asks, her tone dry but laced with amusement. “That’s how you want to play this?” There’s no real annoyance in her voice, just a hint of disbelief mixed with a begrudging smile. Kate Kane doesn’t do surprises often, but you’ve managed to catch her off guard in the best way possible.

- She steps closer, her arms crossed as she looks you up and down, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to play innocent. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she says, her voice low and teasing. But there’s a warmth in her eyes, a softness she reserves only for you. Kate may be tough as nails, but with you, she allows herself to be vulnerable, to let down the walls she’s spent years building.

- Later, as the two of you sit by the fire with glasses of whiskey in hand, she leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re impossible,” she mutters, though there’s no mistaking the affection in her voice. Kate Kane may be Batwoman, a hero who stands alone in the darkest of nights, but with you, she’s just Kate—a woman who’s found a love worth fighting for.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[plaidos]

As a cis woman, I don’t understand how you can say that femininity in men and amab people is less accepted than masculinity in women and afab people, and then that women have much higher standards to abide to, than men? You’re right on the second statement, but doesn’t it contradict the first? Women lose out on jobs if they don’t wear make-up or heels, which are literally performances of femininity imposed by society, that take effort, and, in the case of heels, literally hurt and have longterm consequences. And let’s not even begin on shaving, that is throughly unacceptable. Women get shouted at, harassed and spit on for going out in their natural hair. And this is not even close to “masculinity”, it’s just a natural state of existence. A woman could be wearing a wedding gown, and if she had hair on her legs and arms, she’d still be relentlessly attacked. I feel like we can’t even exist in our natural state, let alone a masculine one, without being threatened and become almost unemployable. This goes for trans women as well of course, though it’s definitely more relevant to them if they pass (I suppose).

first of all, you should try not to make “rules” to understand society through amab/afab as sex categories, because they aren’t and wont make sense to analyse that way. like, an out-the-closet trans man does not have a social expectation to shave his legs, obviously, because he is living as a man who if anything are expected to NOT shave their legs. and for what it’s worth, this is all totally relevant to trans women regardless of whether we pass or not, because trans women who don’t pass aren’t seen as men, we’re seen as trans women. like do you really think that trans women pre-HRT are easily getting jobs without shaving their faces/bodies are going to be getting the jobs that cis women aren’t getting? be for real, think this through seriously.

secondly, you’re conflating gendered beauty expectations with gender presentation in totality. obviously they’re overlapping but they aren’t the same literal thing. do you think cis men can just wear skirts and dresses to interviews and walk away with the same likelihood of getting the job as other cis men wearing trousers? etc.

what you’re noticing is that masculinity is culturally considered to be the default. women have to wear makeup in interviews because otherwise they’re masculine. but look, get this, trans women are both punished for EXPRESSING femininity (“look at this stupid tranny trying to be something it isn’t”) AND for NOT expressing femininity (“look at this stupid tranny not putting enough effort in”).

like you are right that cis women are refused jobs for not dressing a certain way, not shaving their legs/body/face, not wearing makeup in interviews — trans women are punished for not doing those things AND for doing them. We are punished for both removing ourselves from the default.

the gendered double standard of perceiving masculinity as the default is even present in your ask!

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

I’m sorry. I can’t. I try not to get involved in fandom foolishness too much. But egad, the vile treatment of Neve because she romances Lucanis if (AND ONLY IF) Rook romances neither of them is…horrific.

How, BisexualDisaster, you may ask?

1) A lot of critiquing that Neve is uncaring, unempathic, not supportive.

2) At least one claim (getting a lot of agreements in the notes) that Lucanis only gets together with Neve because it’s “easy.” She doesn’t “fix” him so he can just go on being I guess broken somehow?

3) A lot of references to her being too sexual.

4) Insinuations that she’s the type of woman you hook up with, but not the type you marry.

5) Insistence that because she is cynical, she isn’t overtly emotive in the way they would expect, she is unfeeling.

I just…..it’s awful. Why is it so awful? Well, let’s break that down point by point.

1) This is completely contradicted by canon. She goes out of her way for just about every companion to help them, even ones she isn’t super close to. She provides a sounding board and emotional support for Taash and Bellara explicitly in their quest lines. People are disregarding everything she actually says and does in the game to cast her in a role that seems entirely based on sexist and racist stereotypes.

2) There’s no basis for this either. Moreover, this is a truly troubling way to view mental health and healing. Lucanis is not a broken toy or a fixer-upper home. He doesn’t need someone to “fix” him. Nor is he too traumatized to make his own romantic choices. This argument infantilizes him, diminishes his own agency in his healing, and is sexist to boot. It’s ableist, misogynistic, and shitty.

3) This is such a common racist belief about WOC that I hardly know where to start. We are all hypersexual, and if we aren’t we are frigid and prudish and angry. I can’t even. What’s wrong with you all?

4) I’m inclined to agree that Neve isn’t a homemaker, but good grief, how tradwife can you get? I’M not a homemaker. My husband did the bulk of domestic labor in our relationship before he became disabled. Not every relationship needs to look like Leave It To Beaver, and insisting it does is wildly sexist. Oh, and this is also relying on the stereotypes of WOC all being sex-seeking ladies about town to boot.

5) This harkens to two stereotypes. The first is sexist: that women are expected to be outwardly emotive and fawning. That’s neither accurate nor fair. The second is racist: this is a subtle version of the Angry Black Woman stereotype. That WOC aren’t sweet and nurturing and only demonstrate Negative emotions.

This is ridiculous. It’s awful. It’s racist, sexist, and ableist all at once. In an effort to, what, make it so that if you don’t romance Lucanis with your Rook he can’t be with anyone else? It’s not a competition between Rook and Neve or Lucanis if your Rook is romancing them, because your LI CHOOSES ROOK. No one is stealing anyone from your Rook. It’s only if you romance neither that they get together, and the weird possessive idea that if you don’t have Lucanis no one should is deeply troubling.

Is your favorite movie Swimfan? Is it because it made you feel seen?

JFC.

Get it together, people.

Sincerely,

A WOC married to a sweet white man who knows how to cook

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The only way I can make Cater's dream make sense is through headcanon. 😭

Like, one day Cater vented to Lilia during club time about how tyrannical Riddle was and joked about how much easier things would be if he were Housewarden instead. Then later on Lilia repeated it to Malleus while they were discussing how their days went and Malleus just....took it seriously.

There’s two clashing explanations given in canon: Idia’s claim that Malleus “has a shallow understanding of happiness” (implying Malleus has more control over the contents of the dream than one may think) versus the realistic logic that Malleus cannot possibly control the contents of individual dreams because he doesn’t know all 20,000 Sage’s Island residents.

Maybe there’s a middle ground between these two…? Like, Malleus might exert a little more influence for those that he feels he sort of knows, hence it resulting in very convenient scenarios he might think others would want, but in a very surface-level way that does not reflect truly “knowing” someone intimately. Sort of like how someone might tangentially hear about Twst but they never read the main story, vignettes, etc. and they just write fanfic based on the ✨ Vibes ✨ which will inevitably lead to mischaracterization or contradictions with canon. (And no shade to those kinds of Twst fans, I’m only using this as an example because I’ve heard people joking that the dreams are basically “Malleus’s fanfictions featuring his classmates”.)

This could maybe explain things like Leona being king or, like you said, Cater being dorm leader for some reason. Only trouble is, very little in the game implies that this conclusion (the combination of two previous explanations) is what we’re supposed to come to, nor is it ever mentioned that Cater mentioned or joked to Lilia about being a dorm leader. I’ve seen many other headcanons to explain Cater’s dream, including “he masks so often he doesn’t know what he truly wants anymore” and "he craves attention, even if that means being in a position he's not interested in" which are completely different than the idea suggested in this ask. There are countless more out there.

I don’t think Twst should pass the work of justifying the dreams to us every single time, especially when they failed to provide the clues for us to generally all come to the same end point 💀 The only way for us to make sense of things is to come up with our own headcanons to cope…

[sixosix]

'cat' the son | itoshi rin

( a/n ) when i came back the poll was 50/50 so i got bribed and it’s now decided that rin is the winner + little highschool au bc we all know they dropped out:/ idk what to title this im ngl

there’s a cat on the sidewalk.

you have about six dollars in your hand, a faltering mission to treat yourself to a cold drink, and an aching heart at the sight of the little animal seated like a king on concrete, looking up at you with blank eyes.

its dark fur and near-teal eyes remind you of someone. of a back facing your seat, dark hair always kept neat and looking like it’s conditioned meticulously, and the sharpest eyes you have ever seen on a high schooler.

it has been a long day, long enough for you to have stormed out of the room as soon as classes ended to rush to the nearest shop that would sell what you’re craving. alas, there is a cat on the sidewalk, and you can’t just ignore it.

“stay here, kitty,” you say before rushing off with the six dollars in hand and a new goal to head straight to the nearest sign with an animal cardboard cutout printed on it.

eventually, you find one; eventually, you come out of the store holding cat food and a tiny cat bowl because you were worried about letting the cat eat straight from the can. it’s baby blue with little fishes added as design, though you think it’s rather gruesome to put that there, considering the canned food you bought is made from fish. still, you hope the cat will appreciate it.

the cat is still there as if it’s understood and blessed you with patience. the unimpressed look it has on its face says otherwise, though. grateful, you kneel beside it, slightly mesmerized by the fact that it hasn’t run away yet.

maybe other people are feeding it, too? it doesn’t look worryingly thin. needs a little cleaning, but looks well-fed. you’re relieved.

“here you go,” you coo, ignoring the strange looks of the passersby. you place the bowl down and crack open the can. the smell has the cat walking over, meowing all crankily. “i know, i know.”

the cat doesn’t dig in until you’ve finished shaking off its contents, staring at you in the same way the itoshi guy in your class would. the resemblance is uncanny.

you spend the rest of your afternoon keeping the cat company. its face speaks as if it’s far from amused, but the way it rubs against your ankle contradicts it.

cute. the cat is cute.

another student comes to visit the cat, carrying two cans of cat food. it’s been sitting in the plastic for a little while because as he had been going in the same routine he usually has, he spots you, his classmate, bent to the knees next to his cat, and paused.

rin thinks you’re scared of him because everyone in the class is. he lets you have your moment, choosing to come back later when you’ve finished so you don’t freak out and scare the cat. he thinks he can strike up a conversation tomorrow where there are no cats to frighten.

the cat walks up to him, instantly familiar. he doesn’t even meow up at rin impatiently, which confirms rin’s suspicions.

“y/n fed you well,” he mumbles. “i guess you can have this tomorrow.”

you’re suddenly all too aware that rin sits in front of you. he’s right there, uniform stretched over his broad back, most likely because he’s the prodigy of soccer in your school.

the neatness of his hair reminds you of the cat from yesterday, with its silky dark fur despite being a stray. you resist the urge to touch it, missing the cat already. you make a mental note to refill your water bottle so the cat can drink after.

while left thinking about the fact that you’re three dollars shorter than yesterday's budget, you fail to notice that class has ended and rin has his arm slung over the top of his chair to turn to look at you.

rin’s eyes flicker down to the paper bag next to your feet. “what’s that for?”

startled by the smoothness of his voice directed at you, you choke out a: “t-this?” you gesture lamely at the bag containing the gruesome bowl.

“what else am i referring to?”

you scrunch your nose. “okay, no need to be so rude. maybe i won’t tell you what it is.”

rin stares, and you’re intensely reminded of piercing eyes looking up at you, patiently waiting for the canned tuna.

“it’s a cat bowl,” you murmur, defeated.

“cat bowl,” he repeats, a gleam in his eye. he probably thinks you’re weirder than he already thinks you are.

“for a stray. i don’t want to bring it around because some other cat owner might steal it. i can’t have that.”

“show me,” he demands.

a little terrified by the fact that the class grump is actively maintaining a conversation with you; you obediently show him the bowl, spinning it around to show all sides. rin hums, contemplative. your classmates are starting to stare. “it’s weird, right? fishes for the print and fishes for dinner. do you like it?”

“lukewarm.”

“what does that even mean?”

“it’s too small. buy a new one.”

“...you think?”

rin nods, standing up. the chair screeches while he says, “i’ll come with you.”

this is how you end up in the same pet supply store with a companion this time. rin picks the most expensive one for the bowl and the canned cat food, which makes you think he must really like cats a lot.

but as you two leave the store, you belatedly realize he’s leading the way even though you never told him anything about the stray you meet.

it doesn’t hit you until the same cat meows and purrs at rin, rubbing against his pants with its entire body.

“hi,” rin says, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you gape. “wait, the cat’s yours?”

rin bends down, knees to his chest while he sets the bowl down and cracks the can open with one finger. “no. dad’s allergic. he doesn’t follow me back home anyway.” while he does that, the cat comes to greet you, and your heart aches on rin’s behalf.

so he just comes to feed him every day, huh… you muse, gently scratching the cat who purrs at your attention but still looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“do you have a name for him?”

rin pauses, having finished pouring everything. “...no.” he squints at you as if you’ve just asked him the exact coordinates of his birthplace: sincerely confused.

“what do you call him, then?” you watch as the unnamed cat starts digging down on the food, content. you wonder why no one else has already kept this cat to themselves. he’s so cute and polite.

“cat.”

“ah, of course.”

you two watch ‘cat’ eat, content with the silence. it starts to drizzle moments later, but rin is quick to pull out an umbrella and cover all three of you. the cat grumbles unhappily at the splatter of rain hitting him.

“do you always visit him?”

“yes.”

“do you like cats?”

“yes.”

a shame that allergies are the only thing keeping itoshi rin from getting a cat.

while you’re distracted, the cat goes back to rin. rin wastes no time bending down to pick him up, looking awfully domestic in the middle of a sidewalk in front of a busy coffee shop. your hands twitch to reach for your phone, but you’re too stunned to do anything but stare. they look so much alike.

cute, you think, horrified, rin looks so cute holding the cat.

while engulfed in rin’s arms, the cat meows at you. and you, with a too-tender heart, can’t resist.

“i’ll keep him,” you declare with newfound determination. “i’ll take care of him. if you let me keep the bowl you bought.”

rin’s eyes light up, though it wouldn’t have been evident if you hadn’t been his classmate and witnessed his varying expressions of death. (as if it was varying in the first place.)

“i’ll buy everything else he’ll like,” he says, like a true cat mom, his face glowing with barely concealed excitement.

since then, rin accompanies you home. you tell him that you’ve saved up three dollars from yesterday and now you have more than enough to buy a nice, cold drink and maybe catnip for the cat, but rin insists that he’ll pay for everything, including your beverage.

“you feed our son.”

“our son?” he repeats curiously.

“yes. he lives with me. he looks like you,” you explain absentmindedly, setting up the water dispenser on the new food bowl rin ended up buying. it no longer has fish for design or the painful lime green he bought the second time—instead, it’s a nice blue that compliments the cat’s eyes.

“and what are you implying is going on between us?”

you nearly spill water all over the floor. “i…” you honestly did not think about that, “—nevermind. don’t make it weird, itoshi!”

you think you heard rin chuckling, but you’re too busy being embarrassed to bother.

(during class, you will find that rin is far from intimidating. in fact, he’s actually a little bitch to deal with. you’re starting to think that he’s more of a pain to deal with than an actual grumpy cat.

“don’t forget to buy food for our son,” rin says after class, in front of students who gossip like there is no tomorrow.

“what?”

“for our son,” rin says, nonplussed at the sight of your haunted expression.

someone who has overheard the conversation pipes up, “you two have a son?”

“we don’t!” you hiss, face burning with embarrassment at the sudden influx of attention from your classmates.

rin frowns. “don’t lie.”

“you two are starting to act like a married couple recently…” another comments offhandedly.

“itoshi walks y/n home, i saw!”

“we have a son,” rin agrees, and you’re starting to think that he’s doing it on purpose.

“stop saying that!”)

thank u art aanobrain for giving me the idea of rin just naming the cat ‘cat’. that idea is so special to me.

anyway. RIN IS SO HARD TO WRITE HELPPPP. this was an excruciating process i genuinely did not know if i did anything right but WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. thx for reading <3

[keen-li]

What you need | 03

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x femreader.

wc: 4.9k

Prev | next

-

Jungkook completed the end of his deal, now it’s your turn.

Your shoulders and eyebrows rise in unison as you walk into the moderately lit large space. Your eyes glance over all the arranged equipment and you can’t help but frown at yourself.

Your jean, turtle neck and black blazer outfit contradict the environment you’re in. You look so out of place that it warrants some unwanted eyes, but it could also be to the fact that you look lost.

The place is so intimidating, you feel like a little doe in a room full of lions. You wonder why they are so many men in here. You swear it was an all-gender gym.

You’ve seen this gym before but because you’ve never stepped foot into it, you barely know the layout or the rules.

The girl at the reception looked at you weird when she saw your outfit.

‘’do you have a membership?’’ she asks unamused, for whatever reason.

‘’no, I’m actually here to see a friend’’ you don’t care for a membership, with the way you walk around at work that’s enough working out for you.

‘’well that’s not how it works you need a membership to enter’’ she says matter-of-factly. You can’t help but notice how bitchy she sounds.

‘’i-well I’m not here to workout’’  i don’t know if you could tell.

She just stares at you and you stare back.

You can’t help but sigh and roll your eyes.

All this trouble just to be where you don’t want to be.

You guess that’s how jungkook felt when you had to style him and his hair for his date. But he did it anyways, and so do you. you don’t know how you’re gonna pass those doors though.

You could bolt through when someone who has a membership walks in, jungkook would laugh at that story. But you don’t want any bad blood or embarrass yourself with getting kicked out.

So you do the only thing you can do.

Call jungkook and cancel.

‘’i can’t kook because i don’t have a membership ‘’ you whine turning to squint at the girl at the reception. She looks like the type that’s bitchy cause she’s worked here for so long.

The corner of your upper lip twitches.

‘’i told her she should let you in when you come’’ he sounds so breathy ‘’did you tell her you’re here to see me’’

‘’nope but i told her I’m here to see a friend’’ you hear him chuckle. You can’t help but feel like he’s mocking you.

‘’tell her your name and that your here to see jungkook’’ his laugh dies down.

You scoff and roll your eyes. This is too much work.

‘’and how am i guaranteed that she’ll let me in?’’ you question with a little sass in your tone which jungkook catches. He always does.

‘’she will, trust me’’

jungkook knows you can be awkward, nervous and anxious in new situations. And since he knew you couldn’t walk in without a membership, he called in a favour from his good friend Liz. The woman you’re currently having a one-sided feud with.

You hum before the call is cut. And with your tail in between your legs you walk to the reception.

She stares at you ready for your words.

‘’i’m here for jungkook’’ you almost murmur almost too low for ears to catch

‘’your name?’’ you groan, how hard can she makes this for you. Being here dressed like a billionaire single mom here to see her son is embarrassing enough.

‘’y/n’’ you say tucking in your lips.

‘’okay you can go in’’

You release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

So it was that easy, you slap yourself mentally. You give her one last look, as if apologising for overreacting.

Your heeled boots clink against the clean white floors. You’re glad the gym noises and music drown out your heels and banging hearts.

You look around for where jungkook texted you he’d be.

At the end with the dark windows.

Wooow. If only he knew how many ends had dark windows. You curse as you continue walking. You jump over rolling dumbbells and duck people doing pullups. Is this what being at the gym is:

Playing Mario kart.

You gasp when a figure bumps into you.

‘’im sorry i didn’t see you there’’ he turns.

And you couldn’t believe your eyes.

‘’hoseok? What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you once over him in his gym outfit. You never had seeing hoseok in the gym or sweaty on your bingo card.

‘’working out,duh’’ he gives you a look ‘’ i should be asking you the same, but looking at your outfit i don’t think you’re here to workout’’ his eyes glance you over, he saw you wearing this outfit at work today and he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell you how much this outfit doesn’t look so bad on you.

You can’t help but feel small under his intense gaze.

‘’i’m not. Just here to see a friend’’

He nods, not really caring. ‘’enjoy your workout’’ you say as he turns away.

You roll your eyes at how he just hums.

You never thought of hoseok as the gym type but you guess he didn’t get that figure for free. Maybe you should get to the gym too, hoseok was pretty much telling you that with his eyes anyways.

Now back to finding jungkook.

“yn’’ you were walking around aimlessly when a familiar voice calls out your name.

Oh that’s the end he was talking about. Honestly it looks the same with the others, except for the large punching bag hanging for the ceiling.

Your eyes are met with a smiling jungkook as you giddily walk over to him, you have to physically stop yourself from skipping.

Seeing jungkook is always comforting and peaceful.

His curly hair falls loosely on his face. It still shocks you how fast his hair grows.

His black t-shirt falls baggy over the his fern green cargo pants, you remember gifting him those when you were starting off your friendship. You didn’t know what to get him for his birthday cause you didn’t know him that well. So you just got him those pants with a hoodie. He was very appreciative. You would say you’re a better gift giver now, cause you know what he likes.

You walk over to him and his eyes don’t leave you as you approach.

You’re about to open your mouth to greet him and scold him for bad direction, but you’re shushed when his hands wrap around you and lift you off the ground. You use his shoulder for balance. The action takes you by surprise cause jungkook’s has never carried you like that, but you’ve never visited him at the gym as well.

As he sets you down you realise how nice it feels to be carried. His  hands don’t leave your waist as you look up at him.

‘’i like your outfit, but i thought you’d dress more...’’ his eyes look around and you understand what he means.

‘’i came here immediately after work kook, so i didn’t get to change’’ you stare down at your outfit with a pout. he licks his lips as he nods accepting your reason.

The close proximity causes you to see jungkook in another angle, a very good one at that. Your nose takes in his scent, even though you can smell the sweat it doesn’t bother you cause it somehow mixes with his cologne and forms a scent so masculine you wanna drown in it.

‘’plus i came here to watch you workout’’ you push him away at the chest and jungkook moves away, not offended at all. ‘’not me’’

As he moves away he realizes how carried away he got with the feeling of you being close. Having you look up at him like you just did makes his heart rate faster than exercise.

‘’i hear you chicken’’ he grins and you raise a brow at his new nickname for you.

He tries to play of the feeling of being enamoured by your scent.

‘’chicken?’’

‘’yeah chicken’’

‘’and why is that?’’ you fold your arms over your chest.

‘’because you failed to get past Liv’’

The receptionist? You roll your eyes. He can’t tease you for this cause he knows you get anxious and your brain stops working.

‘’you can’t bla-‘’

‘’chicken’’ he sing-songs swinging his head side to side as he puts his boxing gloves on.

You roll your eyes, he’s not going to stop teasing you with that.

‘’so am i a chicken or bunny’’ you take a seat on the bench next to his things, you know cause you recognize the scent.

‘’i think....’’ he pretends to think as he walk over and towers over you.

And in a low voice and flicking your chin he says ‘’...you’re mine’’

You’re taken aback by his words and it causes a tingle in your stomach. Yoiu brush off the feeling as a normal human reaction to being taken aback.

‘’i’m just joking, look at your face’’ he lets out a chuckle and so do you, but yours is more awkward.

‘’i think you’re more a bunny’’ he walks back ‘’that’s why i call you bunny’’

You just stay silent with your words not knowing what to say, you don’t think, or want to think any of it cause that’s how jungkook jokes. But it’s been a while since you’ve heard him joke like that, maybe it’s cause you were in a relationship with yunho. But now you’re not so he brings back his teasing.

That’s how he is, you can’t think more of it.

‘’oh i forgot to introduce you to yoongi’’ he says calling you from the abyss of you mind.

‘’ yn this is yoongi my boxing partner’’ he turns to you. ‘’and yoongi this is my good friend yn’’

You wave at yoongi and give him a warm smile, he simply raise his hand and mumbles out a hi.

With the way he doesn’t smile at you, you think he’s probably not fond of watchers or maybe it’s just you.

‘’you missed the warmup, but you can watch the first round’’ he informs. You hum still not used to the environment. your heart begins to quicken but you try to ignore it as you see them getting ready to start.

‘’you’re not going to wear head gear or something’’ they both laugh out and make you sound like a noob.

‘’it’s okay to take a hit or two raw sometimes, princess’’ new nickname unlocked.

You don’t know if the jk in the gym is the same one you know. He seems more cocky and ... flirty, nothing you can’t handle. Just not used to it.

You sit back and shut your mouth. You don’t want to say something and not seem like you know what you’re talking about.

‘’i’m not going to take it easy on you just cause your girl’s here ‘’ yoongi fixes his glove.

‘’i don’t need you to take it easy on me.‘’ jungkook husks out, eyes lowered and fists prepared.

Your scent grazes jungkook’s senses in that moment and he loves how, in addition to your perfume, you’ve been smelling like lavender lately.

The lavender scent is like a fuel for him.

Yoongi throws a punch and jungkook is almost met with it before he dodges it.

He grins as he licks his teeth. That would’ve been a bad way to start.

He’s tryna get you to like boxing, he can’t if he’s losing.

You’re sat shit scared in your seat as you watch jungkook almost get hit. You can’t handle this, and you just started.

Jungkook throws a punch but yoongi blocks.

Grunts, curses and smacks echo in the room as jungkook and yoongi go at it. No one’s taken a hit yet but that only makes your anxiety rise. Why does he have to have you here.

A form of motivation.

 A reminder of his strength.

That’s why jungkook boxes.

 He’s loved it ever since he was a child. He’s father had him in a class for a month before his mother said it was dangerous. If only his mother was willing to watch him box like you.

But you aren’t willing, you’re just on obligation.

‘’that was a light round’’ you hear him say out of breathe. The way he breathes and the way sweat drips down his face as he does so has your heart beating carelessly, and it shouldn’t.

You cross your legs as you watch him wipe his sweat off with his shirt.

‘’YN’’ he calls your name out aggressively.

‘’huh?’’ you come back from where you went.

‘’i said are you good, do you want water’’

You shake your head at the water.

‘’im fine.’’ You’re not. The room feels hot even though it’s an open space with air conditioning.

You wonder how much jungkook pays for that membership.

‘’good. Now time for round 3’’

Your eyes bulge out at his words.

‘’round 3?’’

Jungkook turns to you with knitted brows and laughs at then shock on your face. From your body language and eyes he can see how tired you look. You’ve been at work and it’s not fair for him to keep you here for over 45 minutes, when his date didn’t even last a quarter of that.

‘’i promise this is the last round then we can go home, okay?’’

You nod and lean back taking in the fact that you have to stay here longer. It’s getting late out and you wonder why the gym isn’t closing but then it clicks that it’s a 24hr gym.

If jungkook wanted he would stay here the whole night. Gym bros.

You stare at your gym bro analysing, there’s something different about jungkook. You wouldn’t place him as a gym bro, maybe because you know him outside the gym and he’s your friend.

But its nice and warms your heart to watch him do what he loves.

In the past two rounds not much has happened except for the hits yoongi had to take from jungkook. You found yourself unintentionally cheering, you wonder why it didn’t bother you seeing jungkook hit someone but the thought of.......

Bang.

That’s all you hear until your gasping, the blood drains from your face.

Yoongi just hit jungkook. Your mind is racing like a soccer mom until you see jungkook recover, still doesn’t help the ache in your heart.

You know it’s just a friendly game, but yoongi is really making a bad impression for himself.

The way yoongi throws another punch has you cringing in your seat.

This is torture.

For jungkook this is motivation, he blocks the third punch that comes his way.

No way he’s gonna let yoongi smack him a third time. Fuck no.

With determination filling him, he throws rapid smacks and punches. He continues until all yoongi can do is block.

‘’time out, time out, time out’’ yoongi calls out and jungkook ceases his throws. He smirks knowing he’s won.

‘’that wasn’t a win jeon’’

‘’it sure was’’ he chuckles out. ‘’what do you think bunny, did i win?’’

He turns to an exhausted looking you.

You have no opinions let alone knowledge on these things.

‘’what i think...’’ you make a dramatic pause ‘’ is that it’s time to go home’’

Jungkook scoffs as he rolls his eyes at you.

‘’fine’’ he starts taking off his gloves and bandages and nobody as ever looked hotter doing something mundane ‘’since you’re tired we’ll end it here’’

‘’how caring of you’’ you murmur.

He grabs his bag and you stand finally glad that this is over.

‘’it was nice beating you yoongi, see you later’’

Yoongi scoffs at him.

‘’it was nice meeting you yn, even though we didn’t talk much’’ he says instead.

You chuckle un-enthuastically. ‘’it was nice meeting you too, maybe we can talk when you’re not punching each other’’

You both awkwardly laugh at that.

You and jungkook walk out the gym doors as fast as light, mainly cause you’re pushing him out the door.

You walk a little slower to his car in the parking lot.

‘’you wanna drive?’’ he stretches his keys out to you but you shake your head so fast as you run to the passenger’s seat.

‘’chicken’’ he says as he opens the doors.

You’re sat and the warm air from the air conditioner pushes out the cold Seoul night air.

‘’did you enjoy?’’ his bellow voice speaks as he drives: one hand on the steering and the other on his thigh.

You turn your body to him, head still resting on the car seat and body relaxed. And as you stare at him your eyes almost closing you can’t help but think whether he looks hotter driving or boxing with yoongi.

‘’i enjoyed watching you do what you love’’

Watching him box, even though it was torture, was heart-warming. Cause even though you’ve been friends for long, there’s still somethings that you need to know and understand about each other.

‘’do you wanna watch me do it agai-‘’ he smiles but your abrupt voice interrupts him.

‘’nope.’’ You shake your head ‘’i never want to do that again’’ your head leave it’s comfortable position.

He chuckles and licks his lip. Your brows knit when you hear him hiss at the cut on the corner of his lip.

‘’you okay?’’

Jungkook’s confused at your question and when his turns to stare at you he’s met with your thumb on his wound.

‘’does it hurt?’’ you ask worried. Jungkook tries to keep his eyes on the road but his head turned to you.

‘’just stings’’ he speaks your thumb caressing his lip.

You don’t realiz but jungkook does, the way you caress his lip and stare at it makes the air tense.

‘’i’m okay yn’’ he wraps his hand around your wrist, and it’s nothing more than a warm and gentle touch ‘’but, you’re gonna make me crash’’

You were so focused on him that you didn’t realize he was driving. You feel stupid you don’t even know why you got carried away.

‘’oh, sorry’’ you abruptly move your hand away. Jungkook’s hand leaves yours almost like he didn’t want you to stop. But he lets it drop anyways, now he has both hands on the steering.

You fold your arms and let the silence sink in.

‘’who was that guy you were talking to’’ you give him a confused hum. ‘’in the gym’’

‘’uh, hoseok?’’

‘’hoseok? Isn’t that the collegue you say is a pain in your ass’’

‘’yep, but i think im a pain in his too’’ you chuckle ‘’were even’’

Jungkook shrugs.

‘’i was actually surprised to see him in the gym’’ jungkook watches you ponder on something ‘’but i guess he didn’t get that body from bossing me around’’

Jungkook looks at that lost look on your face.

‘’looks like someone has a crush’’ jungkook melodies out.

‘’heck no’’ you puff out ‘’ the last person i’d have a crush on is hoseok. He’s attractive of course but a crush is going too far’’ you argue.

‘’you think he’s attractive?’’ his voice lowers.

‘’yeah i do’’ you spit out reluctantly and watch the look on Jungkook’s face.

‘’what?’’

‘’you have a crush on him, yn’’

You scoff. ‘’i don’t have a crush on him’’ you argue. ‘’if i had a crush on everyone i found attractive, i’d have a crush on you’’ you spit out without thinking, you kinda regret saying that.

‘’i dont know if i should be offended or honored’’ jungkook chuckles.

You want to add on but his words cut you off.

‘’we’re here’’

You turn out the window and see the familiar building you haven’t seen in a while.

‘’kook, you were supposed to take me home’’ you whine.

‘’it’s the weekend, stay at mine. It’s been a while since you’ve visited me.’’ It’s almost like he’s begging you and it cause you a little smugness.

You ponder not needing much motivation anyways. ‘’okay’’

Jungkook’s surprised that you’ve accepted so easily but little does he know that you’ve been wanting an excuse to leave your house, too many pieces of yunho left around. Plus, you’ve missed you and jungkook’s little sleepovers.

‘’but i’m getting the bed’’ you declare.

‘’you’re gonna have to fight me on that one princess’’

You loved jungkook’s bed, there was something so soft and comforting about it. Maybe it’s the fluffy beddings and the fact that it smells like him.

-

When jungkook turns the lights on you realize how long it’s been and how you’ve missed the warm and homey feel of his home. Maybe it’s just because you’re finally in a place that has nothing to do with yunho.

The warm feeling in your heart extends to your skin.

Contrary to you’d thought before you met him, Jungkook’s house has a feminine and floral scent to it. Which creates a soft ambience (with the help from the light colours of his walls.)

he slumps himself on his couch, manspreading everywhere.

You place your purse on his minimalistic, white modern kitchen table.

You grunt as you slump down next to him, bodies only centimetres away from each other.

His body immediately turns to you as you sit.

‘’your house hasn’t changed one bit’’ you say and he looks around.

‘’yeah, i’m not that creative. It needs a woman’s touch’’ turns to you and you shift in your seat.

‘’you still have the plants I gifted you’’ you turn to the short three leafed one by the hallway the small one on his coffee table and the large ceiling touching one at the corner of the couch (which was a pain in the ass toe move in, for jungkook and jimin)

‘’they look healthy’’

 jungkook looks at you as you admire how attentive he’s been to your gift.

‘’yeah, i’m a great plant dad’’

You both smile.

And for a few minutes there’s a comfortable silence as you stare at each other. Nothing but smiles around, it’s almost awkward for some reason.

‘’are you sure your lip only stings’’ you go back to being worried about how it’s starting to bruise.

‘’i actually forgot it was there’’ he says softly as his fingers caress it and you watch every move he makes.

You watch him look at his fingers checking for any blood. There’s none and it cause a smile on his face, yours too.

You awkwardly and quickly move your eyes away when he lifts his eyes to look at you.

‘’you should put some petroleum jelly on it’’ you lecture out as you clear your throat.

Jungkook smiles.

‘’will do after i take a shower’’ he stands and your eyes follow him.

‘’do you wanna like..’’ he points between the both of you.

‘’ew, fuck not jungkook’’ you choke out.

‘’come on, we’ve done it before’’ he defends arms open.

‘’that was at the public beach shower and jimin and willoe were there too’’

‘’that doesn’t change anything’’ he grins sarcastically.

You roll your eyes.

You and jungkook are comfortable with eachother but you don’t think it’s that far that you can shower together. Naked.

You wouldn’t be able to do that, feels like crossing a line.

‘’go take a shower i’ll wait’’ you shoo him away.

Jungkook doesn’t argue and watches you pull out your phone.

He was only joking about the shower thing anyways, he hopes he doesn’t make you uncomfortable

But your legs on his couch make you look more than comfortable.

It makes him happy to watch you relax especially with what happened with your boyfriend, well ex now. That’s why he’s been trying to get you out and forget about it.

‘’pick a movie’’ he tells you before he leaves.

-

‘’i can’t believe how tight these shorts have become’’ you walk into the living room with the shorts you left at his house 6 months ago and one of his grey t-shirts.

Jungkook watches the subject of your concern. He doesn’t mean to but he’s got eyes. He watches the shorts you wore 6 months ago at your sleepovers and he can’t help but notice how they wrap tightly around your thighs, accentuating your curves.

‘’they don’t look bad right?’’ you frown.

And all jungkook can find to do is shake his head.

‘’as long as you’re comfortable’’ he can’t seem to move his eyes away from you.

‘’shockingly they’re still comfortable’’

You take a seat close to him and your shirt (well his) rolls over your thighs lightly.

‘’what snacks did you get’’ you lean over to the coffee table and Jungkook’s  eyes move with your body.

He can’t help but think of how a loser yunho is for letting you go. But you’ll find someone better than him. Someone who cares about you and will  take care of you like you deserve.

Jungkook coughs out causing your brows to frown.

He honestly doesn’t know why he’s behaving like this. It’s just you he shouldn’t be acting this way.

The air seems a little bit different ever since you and yunho broke up. As much as you’re still the same girl he’s known these years, same one who denies herself of good things and thinks any of these guys are good for her-ugh it pisses him off for whatever reason-

Whatever.

As much as you’re still the same girl, you just seem different nowadays and he doesn’t like it. Makes an uncomfortable feeling brew in his chest.

‘’you good?’’ you raise a brow at him.

‘’huh?’’ he sounds so dumb right now.

‘’you’re staring at me all weird’’ you give him an awkward smile and stuff your face with some snacks.

‘’yeah i was hoping you feel my glare for making me go on that date’’ he turns to the movie and grabs a can of beer.

A little beer sprits onto your thigh as he opens it. He quickly reaches out to wipe it and mumbles an apology.

Little goosebumps form on your skin at the touch and you shift in your seat.

‘’i was meaning to ask, how did it go?” you try to keep a relaxed tone.

‘’boring’’

You scoff.

‘’how was it boring? I picked the best’’ you lean your elbow against the couch to get a better look at him.

‘’you did, but she wasn’t my type’’

‘’has your type changed cause, last time i checked she’s definitely your type’’ you narrow your eyes at him.

You watch a smile grow on his face and one does on yours too.

‘’see? She is your type’’ you slap his shoulder and laugh.

‘’you’re right she is’’ he chuckles playing with his lip ring.

‘’then what happened?’’ you bug at him.

‘’i don’t know, i guess my priorities aren’t on dating right now’’

You groan at his words.

‘’then what are your priorities on?’’ you lower your voice in a mocking tone.

You watch him down his beer, place it on the table and turn to you with lowered eyes.

‘’you’’ he simply says but the one word stops your thinking and your tongue to stop.

‘’i’ve been worried about you’’

‘’and you don’t have to’’ your legs meet the carpet.

‘’you say that, but you’ve been off ever since...’’

At the thought of it your heart drops and your face does to.

‘’i don’t want to talk about it’’ you frown.

‘’that’s the problem, you’re avoiding it an waiting for the next douchebag to come and break your heart and give you a new reason to be depressed.’’ Jungkook says getting carried away in his passion to express his thoughts.

‘’what the fuck do you mean by that?’’ your reaction causes him to rethink his approach.

‘’yn-‘’

‘’-no. What are you tyring to say, that i jump from guy to guy’’ you raise a brow at him and his blood pressure raise. He knows his answer but he doesn’t think he should answer especially seeing your reaction.

‘’listen...’’

Jungkook doesn’t even get another word in when you’re standing.

‘’maybe i should just go to sleep’’ you say sounding down and jungkook couldn’t feel any sicker.

‘’yn please’’

‘’good night kook, see you in the morning’’

Jungkook sighs as he watches you disappears.

That’s not how he was wanting it to go.

He leans back into the couch. Well you did end up getting the bed after-all.

As you lay down you think about whether you’re actually upset. You know he’s kinda right, he’s delivery was awful though.

But you can’t deny.

That’s why you decided to leave the dating scene, nothing ever comes out of it but heart break.

You thought yunho would be your refuge, your final home. But instead he was your destruction and his reason for it was absolutely pathetic.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek but you immediately hide it when you hear jungkook walk in.

‘’sorry, just wanted a pillow’’

You just hum.

He grabs his pillow and you feel his figure linger for a little longer as if debating on wanting to say something.

But you assume he decides against saying anything and just walks out.

Immediately he leaves you feel the tears roll down like rain.

Jungkook can hear your sniffles from the living room and god he wishes you never met yunho.

-

an:wellllll