#juju my love my light my everything

[heymacy]

you + me + chicago + antique shops full of knick knacks???

an antiquing date with my sweetface?? i literally can't think of anything better 🥹 can we stop at one of the many (many) coffee shops i've been dying to try? get ourselves some kitschy lil drinks? take aesthetic pictures for IG before we stuff our reusable totes full of tchotchkes?

[muniimyg]

7.5: the perilla leaf 》 series m.list

note: nah cos why did u guys blow up 6.5??? jus cos it was nasty sex ????? WAS THE MIRROR SEX CH NOT AS HOT ???? 😭 jus kidding … hello to my new readers !! hello to my day 1s !!! i’m so glad u’re here <3 enj this ch as we are near the end … i know i took a hot minute... but now u guys will know WHY. pls lmk ur thots ,, i am in desperate need of validation cos i’m losing motivation 😀✊🏽 mwah ,, wuv u all ,, until next time !

warnings: this ch is lengthy !!! i'm too lazy to do a word count... anyways,, miscommunication (jk & mina, mina & oc, eunwoo & jk & oc, etc etc), rejection (take a wild guess 😛) and jealousy ((take an even wilder guess)) angst & implied smut (((pls do not be like jk,, he’s such a douche in this ch))) oc has mean girl vibes... etc etc👨‍🍳✨

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @bloopkook @suciedad-divina @xelenavazquezx @kyjjk @parkinglot-nights @skzthinker @thisisaburnphone @rrjkive @hyuneyeon @chemicalclub @bbtsficrecs @ronyiboniyy @italiekim

//

When Yuna meets you, she's wearing Taehyung’s jersey. 

You keep your mouth shut about it, hoping if you don’t bring up her situationship with Taehyung—she won’t bring up yours with Jungkook. 

It’s simple girl logic. Something you’ve always loved about Yuna is that even though she is the nosiest human to ever exist—she knows her boundaries when it comes to you. With that, you’ve always felt safe with her. Eventually, you’ll tell her everything. Besides, what fun is being in a situationship when your loving friends come in with their thoughts and concerns? Evidentially bringing the truth to light and ending your delusion? 

No fun! 

Speaking of delusion…

“Oh my god,” Yuna gasps as she makes an effort to block your view. You huff at her, annoyed at how childish she’s acting. She waves her arms frantically, trying to keep you focused on the other side of the bleachers. Isn’t that ridiculous? For someone trying to get you to avoid looking a specific way, she draws all the attention to it.  “Babes, whatever you do, don’t look—___, seriously? Stop! Please, you’re just going to—”

In disbelief, you grumble; “why is Mina wearing Jungkook’s jersey?”

Your own words make you want to throw up. 

What the actual fuck. 

She’s standing a few feet away from the soccer team with her friends. The towels in their hands—at this point should be pompoms—make them look so… Entitled? You don’t even know half of the girls she’s standing with. Yet, you hate them. 

You despise them and the way they look so perfect. 

They’re all wearing a team member’s jersey… Mina just so happens to have Jungkook’s on. It makes you wonder… Did he give that to her? Did they meet after you two fucked? Did he really mean it when he said, “quickie?”

Did he mean anything he said to you at the party? Not that he was making promises... It's just irritating because you almost believed him. 

Believed in being his girl.

... Whatever that means.

His words were sweet but the way he looked into your eyes was his entire tell. They were sweeter. He had a softness in his gaze. It looked genuine—you swear it was. 

“I think the jerseys are from last season… Look!” Yuna tugs the fabric of the jersey sleeve to you and begins to point details out. “See? This is Taehyung’s from this season. It’s made of thinner material and even the colour is lighter! Mina’s is—”

You turn the other cheek, not bothering to entertain the rest of this conversation. What was the use? You’d only hurt yourself with all the overthinking and cause drama between you and Jungkook. Besides, you have faith in him. He knows how you feel when it comes to Mina… He wouldn’t push it, right? And if anything… You can’t seem to think of a reason why he would be upset with you right now. 

The quickie was just a quickie.

Not much to say. He was normal—until he left. Jungkook had left without saying goodbye and it made you feel a little weird. Not even a text? Not even a heads-up? Not even a kiss? Odd of him. 

Again, it’s nothing worth starting a fight. 

… And besides, when were you guys the type to fight over things like this? You two aren’t dating. Communication—in this sense—is it really necessary? 

“Shit,” Yuna nudges you. “She’s waving at us. Wave back so she doesn’t know we’re talking shit—”

“We’re not talking shit,” you hiss. “Who even cares?”

“Okay, jealous era!” Her words earn an eye roll from you. Quickly, you give in and flash Mina a faint smile and wave your hands at her. She giggles and returns to chatting with her friends. 

“Remind me again… Why did I come?” you groan as you take a seat. Ignoring you, Yuna sits down beside you and takes her phone out. You peek over and see that she’s texting Taehyung good luck. “Do you go to all their games?”

“I try to.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Yuna snorts. “Taehyung likes the support.”

You bite your tongue. 

Should you even ask? It’s probably safer to assume, right?

“Do you like Taehyung?” Your words come out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Afraid of her reaction, you brace yourself for her defensiveness. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk.

“Do you like Jungkook?”

Stupid question. 

Just when Yuna thinks you’re about to react to her question, the crowd begins to cheer. You two turn your attention to the field where your Uni’s team and the opposing team all come out and shake each other’s hands. Then, they run a small lap around the bleachers and briefly greet everyone. 

You watch Jungkook in silence. You don’t cheer his name or even wave. It doesn’t matter though. He sees you. 

When he does, he playfully squints his eyes and tilts his chin up. With both of his hands, he makes the OK hand gesture and brings the circle parts to his eyes. Then, he flips one. 

69. 

Your eyes widen. As you throw your head back to laugh, out of instinct, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles and returns your gesture by blowing you a kiss.

Mina watches as he blows his kiss towards you.

Her cheers go quiet. For a split second, you two make eye contact. She smiles at you shyly. You gulp and turn your attention back to the field. Shortly, the game begins. As the crowd cheers, she finds her mood again. Meanwhile, your attention goes back and forth to Mina, cheering on the sidelines, and Jungkook, playing like losing isn’t an option.

For some reason, you feel a little bad. She’s so supportive and cute (you hate to admit it)… And he’s… Well, why does it matter what he is? All you know is that he isn’t hers. 

Yet, he isn’t yours either.  

Jungkook scores the final goal. 

Of course, he does. 

As the crowd goes wild, you can’t help but join in. His teammates run to him, engulfing him like the ace he is. Jungkook pokes his head out and looks at the crowd. When his eyes land on you, you offer him and smile and a thumbs up. He sticks his tongue out at you before he returns to his victorious team. 

Shortly after, Yuna guides you down to the field the minute your area clears. As she does this, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What were you going to say to him? Even if you had already seen and spent time with him today, right now feels a lot different. 

The way to the field isn’t that long of a walk. Suddenly, you’re standing across from him. He’s saying his last few goodbyes to his teammates and hanging back with Taehyung. Yuna sprints to Taehyung, happily congratulating him and teasing his soccer moves. You watch in awe as the two bond and laugh together. Walking to Jungkook, you keep your head high. 

He would be happy you showed up, right? You didn’t text him that you were coming… But this is a good surprise! At least, you hope it is. He mentioned not telling you about the game because he didn’t feel like begging you to come. Well, here you are. No begging and no sour attitude. You’re here for him. 

It’s all shits and giggles until Mina beats you to him.

He’s only a few steps away from you, but in an instant—he feels so far away. You pause, wondering if you should continue to walk to him. It doesn’t matter if he was watching or waiting for you to come to him; you can leave right now. You could turn around and just wait by the bleachers. Or… You could just go home.

Perhaps there’s a look in your eye that gives your thoughts away or maybe, your friends just know you too well. 

Yuna catches you backing away. She glares at you and side-eyes the direction towards Jungkook. In response, you shake your head with a polite smile—a smile that is trying to mask the fact that you kind of want to rip Mina’s cute head off. 

Polite. 

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone grab onto your forearm. Looking up, you realize it’s Eunwoo. 

“When we were dating, I almost always begged you to come to these games,” Eunwoo complains, grinning ear to ear. “Funny seeing you here.”

Eunwoo isn’t on the team.

He doesn’t even play soccer, really. Basketball is more of his thing. In all fairness, he loves sports and a lot of his friends are on the soccer team. When you two were dating, you were almost never together on Friday nights because of these stupid games. He’d beg for you to come with him and you’d reject and promise him your Saturday night. 

“You aren’t even on the team,” you laugh, earning an embarrassed grin from him. “What’s the point of going to a game if your boyfriend isn’t on the team?”

He tilts his head. Suddenly, your words sink in. Did you really just say that?

“I came with Yuna!” you attempt to save yourself. “She always comes to these things… For Taehyung or something.. I—I just thought I’d c-check it out.”

Eunwoo gives you a funny look.

You aren’t sure if he bought your excuse but you’ll pretend like he did just to salvage any dignity you have left. Everything feels so embarrassing right now. Nothing is going your way and you just feel so out of place. 

Is it overstimulation?

You came all this way to see one person—why are there so many other people?

“Are you here to see Jungkook?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. “You know… Since he’s on the team.”

Eyes widened, you shake your head profusely. “Ew! W-what? No! Who said that? I’m here because my friends are on the team and—”

“You’re a bad liar,” he interrupts you. “Always have been. You should stick with being honest.”

You huff at him. Out of everyone here, he’s probably your safest option when it comes to admitting the truth. In a way—in your way—you give in.

“He’s talking to Mina.”

“Oh,” Eunwoo turns his head, seeing for himself what all your fuss is about. When he takes it all in, he turns back to you with a shrug. “She’s cute.”

“She is cute… You should date her.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes before engulfing you in a bear hug. He ruffles your hair, knowing you hate it when he does this. You groan and shove him away from you. As you compose yourself, he sighs. 

“Yah, ___,” Eunwoo lifts his finger and points at you. With a serious tone, he warns you: “Don’t be so obvious with your jealousy. It hurts my feelings that you never acted this jealous when it came to me.”

You smile at him sweetly. “That’s because you’re a well-trained dog.”

“Ouch!” Eunwoo laughs, pretending you hurt his heart. “Yes, it’s true. What can I say? Any day being your bitch is a good day to be a dog… That’s why I’m still begging for you back even though I broke up with you.”

With a whiney tone, you say, “oh, shut up.” 

“Still a no to the whole getting-back-together-with-me thing?” he winks, sightly kidding and slightly not. You cross your arms and shake your head at him. He attempts one last time. “Awh, come on! We can even fake date just to get a reaction out of Jungkook… I have no problem betraying friendship for love.”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

This time, you roll your eyes at him and tell him he’s being ridiculous. You remind him that his little drunken confession at the party was close to meaningless. He knew from the very start that you’re the type to move on when things end. Good or bad, you never look back. You’ve lived your life this way for so long—you can’t recall whether it brought you more luck or pain. 

Eunwoo doesn’t care for your little speech. Instead, he laughs and continues to push your buttons.

“Wow, you must love Jungkook at this point. You know, you can just say that, right? You loveeee—“

You lunge yourself to him, attempting to playfully put him in a chokehold. He’s a lot taller than you so you struggle. Honesty, it’s cute and he can’t resist you. Eunwoo laughs and bends his knees, pretending to struggle as you seek revenge. He gives in, letting you have your way.

Meanwhile, Jungkook can’t concentrate on his conversation with Mina.

The big smile on his face faded as he watched you turn away when you were only a few steps away from him. How could you do such a thing? You walking towards him made him so happy. It was a sight he had been daydreaming of for the past few days. Though he saw you just hours before, he didn’t expect to see you at the game. 

He thought you didn’t care. 

Yet, there you were. 

Shit, how does he even begin to explain how it felt to see you there? How annoying it was when you threw your head back to laugh, and his heart raced like never before? He was obsessed with you. Every little thing you do—he was your number one fan. 

Except for moments like these. 

Where you hesitate as you walk towards him. Where you get distracted and forget about him just because your ex showed up.

Where you give up. 

“... And so, I guess… What I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to grab dinner with me and my friends? And then maybe we could do something after that… Alone? Like just the two of us?” Mina’s voice cuts in, interrupting Jungkook’s thoughts of you. “We could watch a movie at my place? My roommate went home for the weekend so we’d have the place to ourselves.”

He stares blankly, trying his best to process everything Mina is blabbing about. 

“Ohh… Thanks for the offer! You know the team and I usually celebrate with dinner together, right? ” Jungkook says it happily as if he isn’t rejecting her. “Next time?”

Idiot, Jungkook thinks to himself.

No next time. No this time. No nothing.

Why does he do this? Why does he always push things back for Mina when he doesn’t even want to reschedule? He doesn’t want to reject her… But he does.

Within seconds, the disappointment in Mina’s eyes fades when she comes up with a solution. Her eyes light up, believing in the compromise she’s about to pitch. “Then maybe I could join you guys? Taehyung and Yuna already know me and—”

“But it’s a team thing.”

Mina’s eyebrows furrow. Slightly offended, she pushes the conversation. “Oh… But Eunwoo goes. Yuna does too. She isn’t on the team—she’s just dating Taehyung.”

“No, she isn’t,” Jungkook laughs, finding the assumption cute. “At least, not yet.”

It’s not that funny, though. Mina doesn’t laugh and the silence between the two is heavy. Her facial expression drops, indicating her mood shifts to something less enthusiastic.

Annoyance?

Desperation?

Hurt.

“___ isn’t on the team. She isn’t dating you… But she’ll be there, right?” Mina chokes her words out as if she’s accepting her defeat. Saying this is a wildcard, but she plays it anyway. “Or what I mean to say is that she’s not dating you… Not yet. Haha.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s dry and it’s… Nothing. No words, no thoughts.

He can’t think of a defense and he isn’t even really sure what he’s supposed to say. In his lifetime, he has gotten more than a handful of confessions… But for some reason, this one feels painful.

Pitiful.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jungkook breathes. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Mina shyly. “I really appreciate the support—I really do. It’s just… I never wanted yours.”

Mina stares at him blankly.

“Okay, I get that… But… This is what you do when you like someone. You do thoughtful things they never ask for. You sit through their practices even if it’s pouring rain or hot as fuck. You wash your towels with their favourite laundry detergent because they mentioned they're sensitive to strong scents—no, actually… I think you drive them home and ignore the other girl who sits with his friends and waits for him… Right? You blow her kisses from across the field instead of the girl that helped set up for the game.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. 

“Mina—”

“I waited for you and you never came. You didn’t even text me. Do you know how that feels? To wait for someone and they don’t even—god, I like you so much I made myself look sooo stupid.” Mina groans in frustration. She puts her hands to her face, taking a breath in before continuing to get things off her chest.

“I should’ve left. Instead, I stayed and checked my phone every two minutes in case you texted. Then, I thought, okay… At least I can try to bond with your friends. But you know what? All they could talk about was you and ___. I sat there, listening and nodding like an idiot.”

Fuck.

Jungkook wants to sympathize with her, but can’t find the words or the strength to reach out. As he hesitates, Mina gathers her final thoughts and makes her last few moves. Abruptly, she shoves the towel in her hands to Jungkook’s chest. 

“She didn’t even know you joined the team again after quitting. She has never gone to a game until today. She doesn’t even chant your name or cheer when you score a goal. She’s over there, flirting with her ex-boyfriend while you’re here rejecting me.” Mina fumes. “Is that who you’re going to pick over me? If so, fine. Nice choice, Jungkook. I wish you the best. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“You chose to be here. Look at yourself. Why are you even wearing that?” Jungkook points at the jersey she has on. Mina tightens her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She pushes past him but pauses when Jungkook mumbles the words, “You led yourself on.”

Sharply, Mina raises her voice. “She doesn’t even want you.”

Ouch. 

Mina’s words hit Jungkook right in the heart. Right in the spot where his insecurities and overthinking take place—the words strike him. 

They hurt him.

They kill him.

“Don’t speak for her,” he warns, gaze lowered and stern. “She may not have cheered as loud as you during the game, but who fucking cares when she was chanting my name the other night… Or was it before the game today? I can’t remember. Fucked around too much to remember.”

Mina darts Jungkook a glare. “You’re an insensitive asshole. Do you know that?”

Jungkook huffs, beginning to feel frustrated. “Your feelings are yours, my feelings are mine. So, you don’t get to say shit about ___ to me—not about the way she treats me or her choices. I’m a grown man, Mina. I can figure it out when I need to pull out and how much shit I can take.”

“Mind giving me a few lessons, then?” she asks, eyes beginning to tear up. “I think I put up with yours for a minute too long.”

Everything becomes difficult in that exact second. There’s so much empathy Jungkook wants to express, but can not. He should not. He needs to pull away now or else he would be doing exactly what she’s accusing him of doing—leading her on. 

“I’m sorry, Mina,” Jungkook apologizes softly, truly feeling stuck. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Mina sighs, eyes watery from the tears that threaten to fall. “You’re a grown man, Jungkook. You can figure it out when you need to pull out and how much shit you can take.” 

Jungkook lowers his head, feeling bad for his harsh words. A part of him hates how this interaction went down. He could’ve been kinder. He should’ve been kinder. At the same time, it feels like this is all worth it. There’s no better way to end things than just to cut everything off. 

Still, he attempts one last time. 

“Mina,” Jungkook raises his face and looks at her in the eyes. “Look, I was as honest as I could be. I didn’t know I would like her so much. I didn’t know I’d feel this way about her at all… It just happened. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m so sorry. With my whole heart, I am so fucking sorry."

Mina gulps, a little taken aback by his words. There’s a relief in her heart when Jungkook expresses his feelings to her. At least, there was clarity.

At least, he was honest.

At least, it ends like this. 

She balls her fists and raises them. Waving them in the air, slowly and cutely, she smiles at Jungkook one last time.

Softly, she cheers, “go, Jungkook. Go.”

In the past, the friendgroup seating arrangement was a no-brainer. The order always went: other friends, you, Yuna, Taehyung, and then Jungkook. This was the blueprint. 

Tonight, it’s different.

It earns a few confused looks, but nothing major. No one thinks twice about it. Maybe that’s because they didn’t catch the small moment in between—the one where Jungkook tugged on the hem of your crewneck and you complied. Taking a seat beside him, he keeps his hands near yours.

Though the restaurant is packed and busy, sitting beside Jungkook feels slow. 

Was this even possible? For time to feel like it slows down when you’re beside him? It’s like every gesture he makes, every word that comes out of his mouth, and every stolen glance at you feels mindlessly slow. Yet, your heart races beside him. Even then, you can’t deny how gentle he is. 

How every fingertip brush he makes is intentional. How he eventually hooks his pinky onto yours. How he inches closer and closer to you. Each time, you look away and pretend you don’t notice it. You do. You really do. 

It feels strange.

Back at the field, it felt like he didn’t pay attention to you. Was it because of whatever he and Mina had discussed moments before? He didn’t talk about it when he joined you and Eunwoo. Instead, he kindly greeted you two and excused himself to quickly shower at the locker room before heading out to dinner. You and Eunwoo agreed to wait for him. 

So, you can’t put your finger on it.

He was acting strange, but it wasn’t like anyone else was saying anything about it. A part of you wonders if it’s all in your head. Even though he had acknowledged your presence and excused himself politely—it felt like he was distant. 

It hurt your feelings. 

Why is he acting so weird? The possibilities you make in your head feel limited. The entire way here, you kept replaying moments between you two recently. What could have gone wrong? What could you have done wrong? What about him changed his mind about you? These thoughts flooded your mind so much that you didn’t even realize that he tugged on your crewneck for you to sit down beside him. 

Now, here you are. 

Mind racing with anxious thoughts, sitting beside the man who is the cause.

Your mind is telling you one thing, but his actions are proving otherwise. You don’t know which to believe and it makes you unsure of what to do. Everything is muffled and you can barely make out the small talk happening around you. The only thing clearer than your confused feelings are Jungkook’s gentle touches.

… That is until Yuna and Eunwoo begin to argue. 

“Don’t you usually sit beside her?”

Yuna dismisses him. “Who cares?”

“I do,” Eunwoo protests. “If anyone is going to steal your seat, it’s going to be me!”

“No! You can’t. You can sit beside Taehyung—”

Eunwoo crosses his arms at her. “I thought you liked me. Am I no longer your favourite?”

His words trigger Yuna’s shoulders to drop. She bites her tongue and side eyes Jungkook. Jungkook catches her look and simply clears his throat. Then, he nudges you. 

“Let Yuna sit beside you.” Jungkook’s tone is serious yet casual. You tilt your head at him and give him a weird look. 

“Why does it matter?” you press. In all honesty, you aren't sure of what answer to expect. You're just poking the bear just because you can.

“I’m sitting beside you,” Jungkook points out. “It only makes sense that Yuna sits on your other side. Your favourite people in the world, you know?”

Unfazed, you shake your head. “Be honest… Do you not want Eunwoo to sit beside me?”

“I’m sitting beside you. Focus on that.”

You huff. “It’s yes or no, Jungkook.”

“Or.”

He answers without a lighthearted tone. Without a smile. Without the intention of miscommunicating what he wants. You can’t help but pity him. It’s obvious he’s a little sensitive right now and considering how he left things with you earlier—maybe you should be kinder. Maybe you should cater to him tonight. 

But… At the same time… 

Jungkook is being difficult, so maybe you should run the same play. 

Okay, fine. 

Since the ball is in your court, you shoot your shot. 

“Eunwoo,” you say sweetly, “sit beside me. Yuna can sit beside Taehyung.”

Taehyung, who is sitting across from you, gulps. He instantly feels like he’s caught in the middle. Between trying to please every request Yuna throws at him to catering to his friends—when would this agony end? When could he finally have peace and not get poop anxiety from all this drama?

“But ___—”

You hush your best friend. Yuna pouts and glares at Eunwoo. Truth be told, she doesn’t care if she’s the one sitting beside you or not—she just didn’t want it to be Eunwoo. For Jungkook’s sake; she wanted it to be him. But by the looks of it, Jungkook is in a mood and you’re way too in your head tonight. Ultimately, she accepts her defeat and slumps beside Taehyung. 

Taehyung tries to cheer her up by pointing at her favourite foods. It works. She instantly smiles and sits up with pep. He lets out a breath of relief and shares a look with Jungkook. A, that-was-a-close-one kind that makes Jungkook laugh. You watch as he laughs and can’t help but feel your annoyance begin to fade. 

Okay… It’s confirmed. He’s in a weird mood tonight, but he’s still Jungkook. 

He is still your Jungkook. 

As Eunwoo settles beside you, he strikes up a conversation with the other teammates around him. On your left, you just hear Eunwoo talking your ear off. On your right, Jungkook goes on his phone and goes quiet. Only every so often would he chuckle or make a side comments. 

It’s then that you realize you hate where you’re sitting. 

So, you do the only logical thing you can. 

Flirt with him.

Slowly, you place your hand on Jungkook’s thigh. You lean forward, pressing some weight on him. He puts his phone down and looks up at you. Cutely, you smile at him and take your hands off his lap. 

Patting his head, you softly tell him; “Jungkook, you played well.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair and look into his eyes. You bat your eyelashes a few times, attempting to act cute. Deep inside, you hope this works. You hope you win him over. 

You do.

Right then and there, all his plans go out the window. He will never get used to this. He loves hearing praises from your lips. In complete trance of how you say it, what you say, and why you say it—everything. He craves for you to be obsessed with him the way he is with you. 

So, fuck it.

He could pause his sulky attitude for you. 

Anything for you. 

Jungkook’s lips curve into a half smile. “Don’t be cute.”

“Why?” you pout. “Is it working?”

“Are you trying to entice me?” He chuckles before leaning close to you and lowering his voice. “It’s working, I’ll admit that… But it’s kind of shameless of you to be trying so hard right now. Our friends are here, ___… Don’t start shit you can’t finish, pookie.”

Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “I always finish.”

“Is that so?”

You look at him as innocent as possible. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Jungkook goes dizzy.

As he’s about to make a shameless remark, the waiter squeezes himself in between you two and places water down for the table. Everyone thanks him and reaches for a cup. Jungkook hands you one and you drink it. 

“Thirsty as always,” he shakes his head at you fondly. 

Then, he takes a sip of his water. By complete accident, some water spills and gets the corner of his mouth and a bit of his chin wet. You laugh, put down your cup, and tug on your sleeves. Without much thought, you move closer to him and use your sleeves to dry him. 

“You always spill your drink,” you nag. “Are you a child?”

He stays still, not wanting you to move away. “No.”

You taunt him. “Baby.” 

“Who the fuck is baby?” Jungkook mimics. 

Lowering your gaze, you send him a warning look. He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. As you finish cleaning him up, you sneak in a final comment. “Yah, a lot of girls would break up with you if you do this shit on a first date… Such an ick. Imagine going out with a guy that needs a sippy cup.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at how extensive you’re stretching this out. “It’s charming. I make it charming. My girlfriend would just have to get over it. It’s that simple.”

“Sure,” you agree with a sarcastic tone. “As if I can ever get over it.”

At this point, Jungkook is going to lose track of how many times you’ve made his heart skip a beat. This is completely unfair. How do you say shit like that so easily and captivate him without even knowing? Should he say something about it? 

As he opens his mouth to speak, he loses his chance. 

“___, Jungkook,” Eunwoo chimes in, “Since this is ___’s first time eating with the team… Should we just order our usual?”

Jungkook nods, agreeing with the suggestion. You do the same and state you feel indifferent. Eunwoo then goes on and on about the food. He tells you about the dishes he thinks you’ll like and which ones you should avoid due to your preferences. All the shit he says are things Jungkook has noticed about you before—it just annoys the hell out of him that Eunwoo is telling you all this shit like he’s still your boyfriend. 

He isn’t. 

So, he should shut the fuck up, right?

Jungkook’s thoughts are put on pause when his phone vibrates. He looks at the notification and reads:

Yuna [8:07PM]: stop making that face

Yuna [8:07PM]: idk if u're jealous or need to shit

Jungkook [8:08PM]: lol but like did u see her flirting w me 😌🤘

Yuna [8:08PM]: yes. do u want a medal or smt?

Jungkook [8:09PM]: she wants me fr 🦄💕

Yuna [8:11PM]: is that why she nd eunwoo look like they're abt to kiss?? 😳

Instantly, Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns to you. You're just laughing and talking with Eunwoo. No kissing in sight.

Yuna [8:11PM]: made u look 🤣

Jungkook [8:13PM]: not funny.

Yuna's laughter fills the room. You turn to her, breaking away from your conversation with Eunwoo.

"What's so funny?" you ask.

She shrugs with a smug smile on her face. Pointing at him, she teases, "Jungkook's in a mood."

You look at Jungkook and see him roll his eyes. He sinks into his seat and mutters a few inaudible words. From the looks of it, you can almost swear that his eyes were a little teary. Was he about to cry or something?

"You okay?" you ask him softly. Your concern grows as he lifts his face and looks at you. He looks tired. Exhausted even. "Do you wanna talk?"

Jungkook feels a sense of relief.

You care.

Thank god you care.

In response, he squeezes your thigh. “I’m good,” he promises. “You okay?”

You nod, leaning in. “More than.”

It happens so fast. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you were barely an inch away from his lips. He even dipped his head—and then you caught yourself.

Holy shit, were you just about to kiss him? In front of everyone? When did this become second nature? You want to believe that only you caught yourself… But it’s too late. Jungkook was bracing himself. 

He knew what you were about to do. He was giving in too.

As you break away, his heart breaks a little. Laughing awkwardly, you turn back to Eunwoo and continue your conversation with him. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’s just hangry or purely annoyed with everything and everyone. He feels so alone. He hates that you’re right beside him too. 

He’s so fucking over this. 

When the food arrives, the spread is breathtaking. Maybe it’s because everyone is hungry as fuck and the game was a huge success, but the mood suddenly lightens. The smell of meat being grilled and the sound of the side dishes being passed around was music to everyone’s ears. 

As Jungkook grills the meat, he places the first one ready on your plate. He continues to pile your plate. With lingering eyes, Taehyung groans out in frustration. 

“Yah!” He cries, “that’s unfair. You can’t possibly give ___ all that meat! Give me some!”

Yuna hits him playfully and tells him to let Jungkook be. She reaches over to the other grill and places meat on his plate. Taehyung huffs, and sinks into his seat. 

“Jungkook used to put meat on my plate first.” Taehyung continues to whine.

You all hear him but choose to ignore his words. You aren’t even sure how you’re supposed to act with this. Jungkook was always sweet to you. He has always looked out for you. He has been a gentleman… Now that you’re paying attention to him—you can’t help but feel so infatuated. 

You're drawn to him.

“Do you even eat that much meat?” Eunwoo teases, as he reaches over your plate and picks a piece of meat off. He shoves it in his mouth and you laugh at him. His cheeks are all puffy from the food he stuffed in. 

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can steal it off my plate,” you mutter. “You’re such a thief.”

“I stole your heart once upon a time,” he reminds you. “I’ll be the thief if you’re the cop.”

You cringe at him. “Thank god you broke up with me.”

“You used to love my lines!” Eunwoo jokes, suddenly ruffing your hair like how he did at the field. You shove his hand away and groan at him. 

Jungkook witnesses it all.

The entire time, he feels like he’s being tortured. Sure, you’re allowed to have other guy friends. Sure, you’re allowed to have exes… So why was this bothering him so much? Eunwoo is a good guy too! He’s his friend and it’s not like Jungkook has dibs. If we’re being realistic—Eunwoo had you first. 

Cue Jungkook’s insecurities. 

Do they know how long it took for Jungkook to get to where he is with you right now? How long he had to wait just for him to be able to hook your pinkies together under a table? How long it took for you to sit down beside him without arguing? How long it took for you to accept his presence? How long it took him to get you to act cute?

Too long.

And here Eunwoo is—a mere ex-boyfriend—getting your banters and treating you like you’re still his. 

It makes Jungkook sick to his stomach. He’s losing his appetite by the second.

His thoughts are put on pause when Eunwoo proclaims: “___, look! Our favourite… Perilla leaves!”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge. 

You smile at Eunwoo and practically celebrate with him. As he picks one up with his chopsticks, another sticks to it. As you pick up your chopsticks, you take the other side and peel the perilla leaf apart. Together, you and Eunwoo giggle and wrap the perilla leaf with some meat. Suddenly, he brings his wrapped perilla leaf to your mouth. Happily, you eat what he offered.

“Good bite, baby.” Eunwoo praises you.

With a mouth full, you childishly hit him and scold him for not taking a bite himself. Eunwoo listens and picks up another perilla leaf. You two repeat to peel them a part and—

Jungkook wants to kill himself.

Oh god, he wants to rip Eunwoo’s head off. 

To make matters worse, Yuna attempts to be of rescue.

"Eunwoo," she gasps. "Aren't you being a little too shameless?"

Eunwoo shrugs as he prepares another bite for you. "Yuna, just because there's a goalie doesn't mean I can't score."

That does it. Something inside Jungkook snaps. He wants to be so mad at you—no, he is so mad at you.

How could you do this to him? How could you let Eunwoo say such things?

Don’t you know what this all means? Falling in love. Marriage. Children. A whole fucking nuclear future with someone that wasn’t him. It’s fucking insane you’d let Eunwoo go this far… And right in front of Jungkook? Were you serious? Do you hate him this much?

In a hurry, Jungkook takes his phone and opens his iMessage. He taps on your name— which is easy because it’s pinned—and sends you a text. 

Then, he puts his phone down and begins to shove food into his mouth. He stays quiet and glares at the meat as if the meat did him wrong too. He can’t even begin to express how he feels—it’s just all over the place. He is all over the place.

When his text is sent, your phone vibrates. You glance at Jungkook, a little confused as you see that he sent you a text. Sliding your phone open, you tap on his message.

mfker [8:32PM]: video attachment

Curiously, you tap on the video. As it loads, you turn down your phone volume just in case it was too loud. When the volume icon goes away, your screen reveals a familiar zooming in shot of Jungkook's face. He rolls his eyes and you hear yourself laugh. Suddenly, the angle switches to you holding the camera out at arms length.

You see the corner of your face. Your boobs. Your ass. His abs. His smirk. Him. Naked.

Your hands fly to your mouth, stopping yourself from gasping out-loud.

The sex tape.

Your sex tape with him.

In a split second, you shut your phone and turn it over. Wide-eyed, you push yourself away from the table and make the effort to excuse yourself. Everyone acknowledges your announcement but for Jungkook. He doesn’t even look up.

As you get up, you turn to him. You utter under your breath, “meet me outside. We need to talk.”

The minute Jungkook slams his car door shut, you get right to the point. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Jungkook settles into his seat, unafraid of your anger. He was unashamed. What he did was reckless, yes, but it was no mistake. 

With a nonchalant tone, he answers you. “What? The video? You told me to send it to you.”

Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. “Not during dinner! Not when our friends are sitting beside us! That was fucking embarrassing. Are you trying to humiliate me? That shit is private. It's us intimate. What kind of game are you playing—”

“I’m not playing any fucking game,” Jungkook controls his rage. “Why are you so embarrassed? Because it’s me fucking you in that video and not Eunwoo?”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

You want to scream. Instead, with a calm and slow tone, you confront him. “So… That’s what this is about?” 

Jungkook sighs heavily, clearly fed up with this conversation already. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he reaches over and opens his glove compartment. As he rummages through, you huff at his avoidance. When he finds what he needs, he aggressively shuts the compartment closed. You watch as he brings his device to his lips. Inhaling, he takes a hit of his vape. 

You glare at him.

“Can you do that on your own time? I’m trying to talk to you.”

He turns to you and blows a puff at you. 

“Jungkook,” you warn him, “stop it.”

In response, he shrugs and takes a final hit. 

“I didn’t even know you vape,” you say quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of your body and shit? As an athlete?”

He chuckles at the label. Athlete. Sure, that’s what he was… But he was also on a break for a good amount of time. He was also human. 

“I’m just stressed,” he admits. “You make me stressed.”

You laugh and take the opportunity to grab the vape from his hands. Without much thought, you open your door and toss it out. He rolls his eyes and just as he’s about to open his car door to retrieve it—you catch his wrist. 

“Can you focus on me?” 

As much as he hates to admit it, your words will always win him over. Even though he hesitates, he surrenders. Jungkook settles himself into his seat again and puts his hands on the wheel. Bowing his head, he shuts his eyes and takes a moment. 

Silence fills the car as you two try to figure out which direction this conversation should go. So far, not so good. 

You attempt once again. This time, you go from a different angle. 

“Why did you leave me earlier today? I know you were busy but… You didn’t even say goodbye.” In all honesty, you hate it when you say shit like this. You feel so weak and like you could let out a sob in between words. Not to mention the fact that you’re rarely in this position. This was new. You have never fought for anyone the way you fight for Jungkook.

“I had a game.”

Jungkook’s concise answer irks you. Was he fucking serious? Could he try even just a little bit?

“I know you had a game.. At least, I found out through Mina’s Instagram post… Which… I mean, you didn’t even bother telling me you had a game. Yuna goes to those—I can too.”

No.

That’s not even what you really mean to say. What you mean to say is: I want to go to your games. I want you to want me to be there. I want you to care if I’m there or not. I want to be the one wearing your fucking jersey. 

Jungkook responds plainly, “I told you… I didn’t feel like begging for you to come.”

“You don’t have to beg,” you pitch. “I would have—”

“You would have what?” he sneers. “Would you have come then? Without me asking? Without me telling you? Or did you come out of spite? Like, the fact that Mina was around me and you weren’t… Is that what brought you to me today?” 

Hilarious.

Wow, what a dick.

“No,” you object. “I came because you came over for a quickie and then left. Without a word. Without a kiss. It was unlike you. I wanted to talk about it but you’re acting like this and I can’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Jungkook, what’s going on?”

At this point, you're practically desperate. You reach for his hands. Eyes searching for his, he shakes your grip off his hands the second you intertwine them. You furrow your eyebrows, completely confused and shocked at his rejection. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

“I hate you.”

Suddenly, your throat feels dry. In an attempt to calm your mind, you search for his hands again. For the second time, he pushes yours away. Then, you brace yourself. What he says next could ultimately be the end… Right? This is where everything is headed. 

The end. 

Then, he says the oddest thing. 

“I hate perilla leaves.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him?”

You blink.

“Who?”

“Eunwoo.”

For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. Was he actually serious? Your question is answered as Jungkook lifts his head and looks at you with a sad expression. It takes you by surprise. Come to think of it—you’ve never seen him upset. At least, not like this. Not sad. Not defeated.

“You’re mad at me… Because of a perilla leaf?”

Your loss for words. Unexplainable. Unbelievable.

He looks at you with despair. “Do you not get it? ___, the next thing to happen after you peel perilla leaves with someone is holding hands with them. Then, you fall in love. Marriage. Babies. What about me? What happens to me, huh? What happens to us? You don't even hold my hand.”

You’re dumbfounded. 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious…”

“He patted your head. Are you a fucking dog?”

Sharply, you mention, “I patted your head too.”

It doesn’t matter. He looks at you dead in the eyes. “Eunwoo is supposed to be your ex-boyfriend, not your fiancé.”

You almost gag. “He’s not my fiancé—”

“You peeled the perilla—no. You let him feed you. Fuck you for that.”

Frustrated, you curse. “Holy shit, do you hear yourself?” 

He doesn't utter another word. Instead, he stays quiet. Then, when you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I hate Eunwoo.”

A beat.

“I hate Mina.”

Just as expected, Jungkook provokes you. 

“What the hell does Mina have to do with this—”

“Everything!” you express rather triggered. "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I’m not going to go to your fucking practices with a towel in my hand ready to wipe your precious golden sweat. I’m not Mina—”

Jungkook cuts you off only to repeat his question. “What the hell does you not being Mina have to do with all of this? How does that justify the perilla leaf?”

At this point, you feel like you're losing your mind. Childishly, you chant: “Fuck the perilla leaf. The issue is that you're all about her. Mina this, Mina that! You’re so fucking annoying with her—”

Jungkook snaps. “Are you this insecure?”

“Fuck that,” you grumble. “She was wearing your jersey today. How do you think that made me feel?”

He glares at you. “You’re fucking insane if you think I rather see her wear my jersey over you.”

“Why’d she have it on then?” you interrogate. “Are you fucking her too?”

Line: crossed.

There's madness in Jungkook's eyes. His chest burns in slow anger and feels like he's overheating from everything you've said and done thus far. He's tired.. He feels like he's losing.

Fuck it.

One last fight.

One last try.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jungkook slows down his words, trying his best not to raise his voice. It’s so fucking hard. He’s so irritated by your attitude and your fucking delusion. “___, I acted like a total douche to Mina today so she’d leave me alone. I feel horrible already, but I also feel relieved. So, stop it. You don’t have to hate her. You shouldn’t hate her. You don’t need to make these fucking assumptions because that’s just out of line.”

Like fire, your own anger consumes you. “Are you defending her?”

“There’s nothing to defend,” he insists, voice beginning to tremble. “Holy shit, I was such a douche to her already so you can chill.”

You glare at him. “I am chill.”

Lies.

“You gave me a blowjob that one time so I wouldn’t make it to my dinner plans with her,” he comments. “That was a pretty bitch move.”

Out of reflex, your mouth drops a little. You can not believe it. Did he really bring that up? “Excuse me?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “It was a bitch move. I didn’t mind, though. Why? Because it felt like you wanted me. Every time you make me feel that way—I can’t let that shit go.”

“So what? Do you want me to say thank you?” you spit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t care if you—”

“You never asked for it, I get that,” Jungkook interrupts you. He takes a minute. Suddenly, he recalls his moment with Mina at the field and feels his heart break a little. So... This is what it feels like to be on the receiving end. “What I’m saying is that I stopped entertaining her because I—well, I thought it would ease your heart. You overthink so fucking much, I'm beginning to run out of solutions. Do you even know how much I hate your jokes? The ones about me talking to other girls? I hate them. I only talk to you. I only think of you. Only you.” 

Your heart drops. 

“I never asked for any of that.” 

Something is wrong.

All your words are wrong. Everything you want to say is not coming out of your mouth. What you mean to say to him is; oh my god. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I feel so seen and heard that you did. 

Jealousy has always been a funny thing. Never has it been triggered the way it is when it comes to you and Jungkook. Though some may argue this to be toxic, it is simply the truth about relationships. Jealousy is a healthy emotion as long as it is expressed and validated moderately. It’s so hard to be upset with Jungkook when his confessions are so wholesome. He did a kind thing for you. He did it to bring you peace. Here you are, acting ungrateful because you can’t fathom the way he cares for you.

Jungkook huffs. “___, that’s exactly it. You never need to ask when it comes to me. Whatever you want, I give. I fold. Tenfold. That’s the fucking cycle we’re in and I’m beginning to get sick of it.” 

A silence falls upon you two. All you hear are the raindrops from the sky begin to splat on his window. For a moment, you get so lost in your thoughts, that your head begins to hurt. After a few more moments of silence, you realize it isn't your head.

It's your heart.

It feels like a knife has been stabbed into it—his and yours. All at once, it just aches. You both feel it. Your hearts grow tired and fragile.

Truly, it's ironic how the gentle silence is ruined by such brutal words. It's then when the knife, that was stabbed into both of your hearts, twists.

"What do we do now?"

"I think we need a break."

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Death, Grief, Blood, Life after loss, Cursing, Mentions of cursing higher power out of anger, Angst.

Word Count: 5.5k

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

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Part One.

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You vividly remembered the day your older brother debuted.

The memory was seared into your mind, a day full of nervous excitement and overwhelming pride. You were only 9, still young enough to idolize him in the purest way, but old enough to understand how much this moment meant to him. The two of you had grown up together, inseparable since the day your parents brought you home from the adoption agency. Hajun had always been your protector, your constant source of comfort, and now, he was going to be a star.

It was a chilly autumn afternoon, the kind where the crisp air nipped at your cheeks and the golden leaves crunched beneath your sneakers. You were clutching your brother’s hand tightly as you stood in the crowded concert hall. The anticipation in the room was palpable, a mix of excitement and nervous energy that buzzed like static electricity.

Hajun had always been the rock in your life, the one who knew how to make you laugh even on your worst days. As the lights dimmed and the opening notes of Eclips3’s debut song filled the air, you could barely contain your excitement. You had seen him practice countless times, but this was different. This was his moment. Your father had you on his shoulders so you could see up and over the barricade, yelling.

"JuJu!" You squealed, holding up a sign with your sloppy handwriting that said: "That's My Brother".

When the spotlight hit him, you saw the confident smile that always made your heart swell with pride, although you were too young at the time to understand that feeling. Dressed in sleek black and white, he looked every bit the star you knew he was destined to be. He danced with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, his movements precise and full of passion. The crowd’s cheers grew louder with every beat, and you felt your chest tighten with a mix of joy and admiration.

During their dance break, when Hajun was at the center, it felt like the crowd was the loudest; but maybe you had imagined it because you loved him the most; maybe you didn't.

But you didn't imagine the excitement in his eyes, and the smile he couldn't even bother to contain.

You remembered how, in that moment, everything seemed perfect. Your brother was up there, living his dream, and you were there to support him. His eyes met yours briefly, and he gave you a quick wink. It was a silent reminder that no matter how far he went, he would always remember where he came from. It was a promise that you held close to your heart.

He loved you and you loved him.

As the final notes of the song faded and the crowd erupted in applause, Hajun waved, his smile never wavering. When he finally came offstage, his face was flushed with excitement and exhaustion. He scooped you up into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

“I don’t, want you to move away.” You mumbled sadly, digging your head into his shoulder, the rush of adrenaline and happiness fading instantly as you realized this hug was unlike his other ones; this was a goodbye. Although temporary for now.

“Don’t worry, Gremlin,” he whispered in your ear, his voice a mix of triumph and tenderness. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. I may be far away, but you can always ask Mom and Dad to call, okay? And I’ll visit, and you can watch my videos and I’ll mention you in them too. I promise, I’ll always be here for you.” He stuck out his pinky, his eyes twinkling, and you gave your gap-toothed smile as you locked your pinky with his. He placed a kiss on your cheek and ruffled your hair one last time.

Little did you know, those words would become a beacon in the storm of your life. Something you would always come back to. And that promise he made would be tested.

Because all things made, are at risk to break.

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Your alarm went off and you just stared at the small black box that had one of those plastic zoo animals hot glued to it - a racoon. The noise was annoying, and sometimes you wondered why you didn't just switch to using your phone alarm, but there was just something nostalgic about using a physical alarm clock.

You hadn't realized it had been going off for almost 20 minutes until your mother walked into your room.

"Sweetie, you up?" Her voice was soft, melodic. A hint of raspiness in it, although it was more pronounced today; you figured due to the time of day and how much she had cried over the past week. She looked as if she was about to go out. She had her bag hung over her shoulder and her makeup done.

"Yeah." You mumbled. Technically you had been up.

Since you hadn't even fallen asleep.

It wasn't like you could get much sleep these days.

"They're announcing it today?" You mumbled quietly, the soft hum from your ceiling fan the only thing breaking the almost unbearable silence. You figured thats why your mom was going out, you had heard her on the phone with one of the ladies from church, and heard her telling her that your father was working overtime at the hospital and that she wanted something to do throughout the day to keep busy.

"They wanted to wait a bit longer; to give us time to grieve, but fans are starting to realize something is up."

"It's only been a month since Kae-Joon killed himself as well. Are you sure it isn't just the company trying to keep their image intact?" The venom in your voice made your mom flinch.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

"Apologizing won't bring him back, Mom." The cool air hit your legs, as you threw off your blanket, causing a slight sting so some of your open wounds. Three hours of constant scrubbing left your skin raw and sensitive, and it had yet to heal. But you didn't want any traces of his blood on you.

"Just like you, I'd rather not watch when they make that announcement." You stood up and made your way to your closet, finding some pants and a sweater to throw on. You could feel the stress your mom was carrying when she sighed.

"Did you at least open the box he left you?"

It was as if you were deaf to her words. After a few minutes of silence, she got up and left, softly shutting the door behind her. You made your way back to your bed and under the covers deciding to not even comb your hair.

What could anyone tell you to do?

It had been a week since you strained your vocal cords, screaming for help, screaming curses at God when you had found your brother bleeding out on the guest bedroom floor.

You remembered seeing Hajun act the same way, when his leader had walked the same path, not even a month ago.

But he had been happy the past few weeks, hadn't he? He had come home, and you had gotten to be with him.

He loved you. He wouldn't do this. Not to you.

You reached towards your nightstand, and your fingers wrapped around his phone.

You powered it on to see a picture of him with you on your first day of high school.

You both had wide smiles, and Hajun was squeezing your shoulders, his chin rested on top of your head as you both laughed.

Your mom and dad had always joked that Hajun loved you more than he loved them.

But the irony of it was that it wasn't a joke at all.

The minute you had come home from the adoption agency, apparently Hajun had been all over you, wanting to hold you, and have your crib put in his room.

Your mother had given birth to a baby boy, but due to complications he died just hours after his birth. Distraught your mother had been pleading that it wasn't true, and a teen mother had heard a few nurses talking about how heartbreaking it was. She was putting her baby up for adoption and having heard another mother's grief wished to ease some of that.

You wondered if it was one of those instances where another's one's trash was another's one's treasure after you had gotten into a huge argument with your mom one night.

But looking back you couldn't have been more grateful to be put into the family you were in, with your mom, dad and Hajun. Your mom had also gotten the daughter she had always wished to have. And you got a love you believed everyone deserved.

You wiped your eyes once it became too blurry to see Hajun's screen staring back at you, and scrolled through the large number of missed calls he had gotten.

Sunwoo Hyung 🤍😂- 47 missed calls

Favorite Hyung 🤠🤓- 92 missed calls

Chris🦘- 4 missed calls

Grumpy Hyung 🖤🐈‍⬛ - 38 missed calls

You could scroll through it all day. Goodbye texts, calls placed in denial.

They were all one in the same, and you subjected it to yourself for the past week, refusing to swipe the notifications away.

Your parent's had seemed to want you to forget most of it, as that was there way of copying. To forget everything; minus the fact that Hajun has left a box addressed to you in his room.

It was hard to accept his suicide when you deluded yourself into believing it was something done in the moment; you didn't know if you could even begin to cope with the pain of acknowledging that he had meticulously planned it. So, you hadn't looked at the box, let alone in it yet.

In a weird way your parents wanted to know. To find closure you figured. They hoped his suicide note would be in that box, and the battle you had gotten into with your parents when your mom had brought up the possibility did nothing to help aid in the hurt you all were facing.

Your father had been out at work every day, refusing to take bereavement leave so he could distract himself from his eldest child's death. It hadn't helped he had worked the shift Hajun was rolled into.

Your mom had been packing up the house in a move that you knew would be inevitable. None have you been anywhere in the house much rather than your bedrooms, ordering food in, using the bathrooms on the highest levels of your home, and completely side stepping any area of the house where your brother held his presence the most.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and tightened your own embrace, as you felt more tears begin to form.

"I miss you."

Your family has always been an affectionate family - Hajun the most - and since his death that all seemed to sever. Your mom had barely touched your father, let alone you. It seemed everyone's version of coping was isolation, and that just made Hajun's absence even more noticeable.

He always had to have skin ship with someone. Most of the time it was hugging or sitting close enough to someone their legs were rested by each other's, with you he would rest his head on your shoulder, or pinch your cheeks telling you how adorable you were, and 'how could you not be when you have the most handsome brother in the world'?

It had been an ongoing laugh in the industry and in his fandom that he was his own dating ban. Due to his inclination to hug everyone he met, his company had to deflect rumor after rumor, to the point where they eventually had no choice but to make an official statement. Thirteen separate articles had speculated about his love life, each one feeding into the frenzy that surrounded him. His warm nature was both his charm and his curse, a constant point of speculation in a world where even a simple smile could spark a scandal.

But now you knew better. You knew the real reason behind that warmth, the desperation behind every hug, the way he clung to people as if they were his lifeline. He had always been the light in every room, the one who could make anyone smile even when his own smile never quite reached his eyes. You used to marvel at how he could be so kind to carry so much of the world’s weight on his shoulders, his friend's, his family's, and still manage to hold his own.

You were selfish to never realize that the weight was slowly breaking him down, piece by piece.

Maybe, it's my fault... You had wondered while sitting the hospital waiting room. Maybe if I never complained, maybe if I solved my own problems instead of looking for him to solve them.

After the leader of Eclips3 had taken his life shortly after being involved in a trafficking scandal that had led to the death of four separate women, and the group went on an indefinite hiatus which sparked Hajun's homecoming, that light had dimmed even further.

"I could've saved them. If I would've known..." He repeated over and over.

You saw it every time you looked at him—the way his once vibrant energy now seemed forced, his laughter a hollow echo in the house that had once been filled with genuine joy. You tried to reach out, to be the rock for him that he had always been for you, but he would brush it off with that same reassuring smile.

He had gone through a few of these ruts prior. You once had mentioned to your mother he seemed more tired than usual, but soon enough after a break he was back to normal.

Two nights before he had ended it all you laid in his bed as he spoke to you softly.

"Sometimes...I wish I never chose this life." He had told you.

"Then quit. Come back home. Mom and Dad will take care of you."

He had pinched your nose. "How could I when I make so many people happy? I can't just throw away God's gift to me hmm?" He laughed quietly. "Besides, who would buy you all the things you want if it weren't your big brother?"

The breath you had released betrayed your true feelings about the situation.

His eyes would always betray him, and the pain in them at the moment was so deep that it made your heart ache. Yet you didn't say anything.

"Just a break, Gremlin," he whispered, ruffling your hair like he always did. "I’ll be back to annoying you in no time." His eyes would always betray him though, and the pain in them at the moment was so deep that it made your heart ache. Yet you hadn't said anything.

If I said something, would he still be here?

The break never ended. Instead, it shattered into a silence so profound that it consumed you, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. Wrapping around you just the way Hajun's arms had so constantly wrapped around you, tight, secure, an unbreakable hold.

You were alone now, in a world that had lost all its color, where the joy that once filled the rooms was replaced by a deafening quiet that you no one could escape. Every corner of your home felt empty, even though it was still filled with the remnants of his life—his clothes still in the coat closet, his favorite mug still on the kitchen counter, his music equipment still set up as if he might return to use it any moment.

Sometimes in the quiet hours of the morning when your brain shut off momentarily, you believed he would walk through the door, the gentle hum of his voice accompanying the staccato patterns of his keyboard.

His room, once a sanctuary of music and late-night confessions, now felt like a tomb. The posters on the walls, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed to mock you, their bright colors dulled by the memories they carried.

The posters of countless amines you had forced him to watch on his tours were hung up, the corners curling inwards from the stagnant air in his bedroom. His guitar, propped up in the corner, was still out of tune, left that way after the last song he played—a song you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to again.

Everything was frozen in time, preserving the last moments of his presence, moments that were now too painful to revisit, yet too precious to let go, and too blaringly obvious to set aside in hopes of a happy future.

But you had to. You had to go through his things, even if every object you touched felt like another stab to your already shattered heart. You needed to feel close to him, even if it meant opening the wounds that hadn't begun to heal even further. You couldn’t just leave his room untouched forever, as much as it felt like disturbing it would make his absence all the more real.

So, you managed to pull yourself out of your bed and make the walk to the end of the hallway.

The black paint he had painted once on his doorway was peeking through a part of the peeling white paint that your dad has used to cover it up.

Your hand slowly grasped around the doorknob, and you stood there for a minute, an hour- or maybe it was seconds. Time was foreign in that moment.

You stood in the doorway, the air thick with the scent of his cologne, the memories clinging to every surface like ghosts. You inhaled, and it almost seemed like he was standing right next you, or behind you, hugging you and telling you how he was proud of everything you had done, or telling you how much you meant to him, or how grateful he was to have a baby sister.

Your steps were hesitant as you crossed the threshold, each footfall extra loud in the stillness; the snapshot of a life that had been cut too short. You couldn’t help but feel like an intruder, as if you were trespassing in a space that didn’t belong to you, even though it was now yours by default.

And even when your brother had been around, he had always left his door open for you; if not physically metaphorically. The bed was still unmade, the sheets tangled from the last night he had slept in them. His desk was cluttered with notebooks, sheet music, and pens as well—tools of a trade that he had dedicated his life to, tools that he would never use again; tools that you pinned some of the blame on.

It was while you were rummaging through the drawers of his nightstand that you found it—a small, weathered box tucked away with a pile of old notebooks that he had countless lyrics written in. Lyrics to songs that would never be released.

Your mom had told you that there was a box in the nightstand, but out of respect to Hajun's wishes, she didn't touch the box as it was addressed to you. Just informed you of its existence. Constantly.

Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled the box out, your fingers trembling slightly. The box was unassuming, just a plain wooden box, but it was heavy, as if it carried more than just the objects inside. You knew your brother’s handwriting well, and the simple label on the top read, "For Gremlin, when you need me the most."

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You sank down onto the floor, the weight of the box in your hands almost too much to bear. What could be inside? What had he left for you? Was it really a suicide note? You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever it was, but you couldn’t not open it. Not now. Not when you decided that it was time to acknowledge whatever he had left behind. The box felt like a connection to him; a connection that you weren’t ready to sever, even though it had been only days since you last heard his voice.

But it would be even longer without hearing it now.

With trembling hands, you lifted the lid, your breath hitching as you revealed a stack of envelopes, each one labeled with a different emotion—“Read when you’re sad,” “Read when you’re scared,” “Read when you’re mad.” There were fifteen in total, each one written in his familiar handwriting, each one a piece of him that he had left behind for you.

They still smelled like him. And the ink still smelled fresh as well, as if he was in there moments ago as he was writing them.

You wondered if he had waited until the morning before to write them, or if he sat at his desk, with his desk lamp, writing them in the moments the ones he loved most slumbered.

Did he feel even more alone in that moment?

Did he feel as lonely as I feel right now?

The tears that you had been holding back for so long finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you ran your fingers over the envelopes. The reality of his absence hit you all over again, like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. He had known. Somehow, he had known that he wouldn’t be there to help you through the hardest moments; that no matter who he turned to he knew he wouldn't be able to defeat the biggest demon raging in his mind; so, he had left you these pieces of himself, a way to still be there for you, even in death.

Your vision blurred as the tears continued to fall, your breath non-existent as you tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.

It was so like him—always thinking of you, always wanting to protect you, even when he couldn’t protect himself. He had been hurting so much, more than you could have ever known, and yet he had still found the strength to think of you, to leave behind something to comfort you in your darkest moments.

Why couldn't he have focused on himself? Why did he have to worry over me so much, that he couldn't reach out for help? He could've have been dialing a number, talking to a therapist- mom, dad, me - instead of writing these and admitting defeat. Why couldn't he worry about himself for one moment?

It's my fault. You told yourself over and over as you looked through the envelopes, a weird anger boiling in your stomach at how kind your brother was that it aided in his own neglect.

You were about to put the envelopes back in, when you saw something flash in the bright lighting of his room.

At the bottom, beneath the envelopes, was a photograph. A tiny polaroid that had been taken in what you had assumed was a party, or a club. It was dark, but you could tell the photographer had used flash.

You pulled it out, recognizing only one face in the picture—your brother and another young man that you had assumed was Hajun's age, both grinning widely, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

Their smiles were both wide and white, and you instantly could tell just by the way the man smiled - his eyes nearly disappearing and his nose scrunching up slightly, that they had to have gotten along extremely well.

The young man was familiar, his face one you had seen before, but couldn't pinpoint. You were more than sure he had to be another idol, since Hajun didn't have many friends outside the industry - unless they were back home - due to the safety concerns and harsh restrictions of his company.

You flipped the photo over the photo out of habit, not expecting anything to be there, but slightly surprised when you saw a somewhat messy penmanship on the back, an unfamiliar handwriting that had engraved the words in fine tip sharpie, “Call me when you get lost.”

And beneath it your brother's familiar chicken scratch:

You'll be okay.

He knew. He planned.

And a hatred burned in your heart, but you couldn't bring yourself to accept that anger.

Why did you leave me?

Your hands shook as you held the photo, tears slipping down your cheeks as the reality of what he had done washed over you.

He had left you more than just words. He had left you a connection, a way to reach out to someone who might understand, someone who might help you find your way out of the darkness you were drowning in.

But how could you?

How could you listen to your brother's instruction when he had delivered you the worst kind of betrayal.

How could you listen to his instruction, listen to his words and believe them when you had once believed in a promise that he so easily broke.

How could you reach out to someone when you didn’t even know how to begin to heal? The thought of calling a stranger, even one your brother had trusted, felt impossible. Yet, as you sat there, surrounded by the remnants of your brother’s life, you knew you couldn’t do this alone, you didn't want to admit it, but you had to.

The photograph slipped from your fingers as you collapsed back onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You laid against the cool hard wood of the floor, trying to grasp anything that could keep you tethered to reality.

The pain, the grief, the overwhelming sense of loss that you had been trying so hard to keep at bay finally broke free, and you were powerless to stop it.

The sobs that tore from your throat were raw, primal, a sound of pure anguish that echoed through the room, through the house, through your entire being.

"Mom! Dad!" You cried out. "JuJu."

The house remained silent, your parents out and about. Staying away from anything that brought them back to that moment.

"JuJu." You croaked. "JuJu..."

It felt like the world was crumbling around you, like everything you had ever known was being ripped away, leaving you with nothing but emptiness. How could he be gone? How could the one person who had always been there for you, who had promised to never leave, be gone? The thought was too much to bear, too painful to comprehend, and it left you feeling hollow, like a part of you had died with him. You wanted to die.

You couldn't end up like him, you couldn't.

But you couldn't even fathom living without that support.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, curled up on the floor, your body wracked with sobs that seemed to have no end. Time had lost all meaning, and you were trapped in a cycle of grief that felt like it would never end. But eventually, the sobs began to subside, leaving you drained, exhausted, and aware of your utter loneliness.

With shaking hands, you wiped at your tears, but they kept falling, as if your body was finally letting go of the grief that had been festering inside you for so long. It brought almost a physical relief, being able to release that second half of tears that had seemed to stop when the gravity of Hajun's death had hit you.

The photograph lay beside you, the words on the back blurring through your tears, but you could still make them out.

"Call me when you get lost."

The words echoed in your mind, and for the first time since your brother’s death, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back.

You found a tentative belief in Hajun's last promise; a belief knitted together solely by desparation.

With trembling fingers, you reached for your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you dialed the number scrawled on the back of the photograph. The line rang once, twice, three times, and for a moment you thought it might go to voicemail. But then there was a click, and a voice on the other end—a voice you somewhat recognized in passing. But would be at a loss if needed to pinpoint who it belonged to.

"Hello?" The voice was tentative, cautious, as if the person on the other end wasn’t sure who might be calling. It was laced with an Australian accent, a deep and rich and prominent tone. You could hear the sound of music playing faintly in the background, and the voice of multiple people speaking, a reminder of the life you had once known through your brother, the life that was now so far out of reach.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a jagged breath escaped. Your throat felt tight, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst. But then, as if sensing your hesitation, the voice on the other end softened. "It’s okay," he said, his tone gentle, reassuring. "Take your time."

And somehow, those simple words were enough to break through the wall you had built around yourself. The tears started flowing again, but this time they weren’t just tears of grief. They were tears of relief, of release, of finally letting go of the pain that had been eating away at you for so long.

"I miss him," you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "I miss him so much, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to live without him. And- And I found this- and you said call me wh-when-" You gulped for air.

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment you thought the call had disconnected. But then, the voice came back, stronger this time, yet still harboring an immense amount of sadness as well.

"You're Hajun's little sister, aren't you?" The voices in the background quieted, as the man on the other end moved to a quieter spot.

"You don’t have to do it alone," he said, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart ache with a strange mix of pain and comfort. "He wouldn’t want you to go through this by yourself. And neither do I. So, whenever you’re ready, I’m here. We’ll figure this out together."

And in that moment, for the first time since your brother’s death, you felt a glimmer of hope. It was small, fragile, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the darkest of clouds. But it was there, a guiding you toward the hope of a future that, while uncertain, wouldn't be so terrifying anymore.

You had lost your brother, and nothing would ever fill the void he had left behind. But maybe, just maybe, you could learn to live with the pain, to carry it with you as you moved forward. And with the help of the person on the other end of the line, the person your brother had trusted enough to leave you in their care, you knew that someday, you would find your way out of the darkness.

Maybe not entirely, but right now you figured a life with any light- even if only seen at a distance, like the exit of a tunnel, would be better than whatever the hell you were going through at the minute.

"I-I'm Y/N." You stuttered out, your tears coming to a slight halt. There was yet another silence on the other end, and you wondered if he had hung up; but somehow you knew by just talking to him for a moment, he wasn't the type to do that.

"I'm Chris. Hajun was one of my closest friends. And I'm sorry." His voice was choked with emotion for just a slight second. "But I promise, I'll do my best to help you. It's what he would've wanted."

"I... I don't know. How can I escape this. I can't...what if I can't?"

"If you can't escape, then know that I'm here. Know that you can call me, tell me where you are - whether in a deep anger or sadness tell me -and I'll come find you."

Even in a moments time, you trusted him. You trusted those word's he said. You were lost, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you were found. Because no one did that for Hajun. No one found him until it was too late.

Maybe it's a promise he wished he could make to Hajun.

But now Chris was making you that promise. A promise that you prayed to God he would keep.

Because you didn't know if you could handle another broken promise.

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If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

988 - USA Suicide Prevention Hotline | 24 Hours 111 - Helpline UK | 24 hours 1393 - Suicide Hotline Korea | 24 hours

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@0325tiny @resi4skz @soaplickerrr

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[foreingersgod]

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.3

“You know, you could try actually folding your clothes.” I lean against the doorframe as I watch Liam struggle to keep the pile of sweatshirts from falling over and landing on the floor.

On the other side of the room, Kieran balances precariously on a chair while trying to tape his drawings to the wooden panelling. “He could, but then he’d just be setting unrealistic expectations for the rest of the year.”

Liam abandons the clothes, distracted by a basketball. “You’re just salty because you got the desk where the drawer sticks.”

“I give you both a month before everything in here sticks.”

“Eww, Juju, don’t be gross.” Kieran laughs and jumps off the chair, just as Liam launches the ball straight at me with a grin. I manage to duck, letting out a half-giggle, half-yelp.

The ball barely misses me, and continues straight through the open door. My eyes widen in panic, already imagining it hitting some poor unsuspecting person – or worse, something expensive.

Instead, there’s a soft thud as the ball is perfectly caught in my mother’s outstretched hands.

“Really, Liam?” she says, her tone carrying that mix of exasperation and amusement my brothers always seem to evoke.

Behind her, my father rubs his forehead. “I see you’re feeling right at home already. The campus tour is about to start. Will you be joining us, Julia?”

“No, I’m going over to Foxbury to meet a friend since I’m here anyway.”

Kieran pulls me into a hug. “Foxbury? Don’t tell me you’re fraternising with the enemy?”

“None of your business, boogerface.”

He doesn’t let me go straight away. “Love you, Juju. We’ll see you at home for Winterfest, right?”

I squeeze him tightly, fighting the burning sensation behind my eyes.

“Of course. Love you too.”

Most people have already left the party, but some are still dancing even though the volume of the music is significantly lower than a few hours ago. It’s getting late and the bright lights from the DJ booth swirl like melted neon in the dark when I move my head.

Marten leans against the wall, his cheeks a bit flushed. “So, what do you think so far?”

I shrug. “Honestly? It’s pretty much what I expected. I’m not sure this is the best learning environment though, it’s a bit chaotic.”

Marten grins. “Yeah, I guess this isn’t exactly representative of the more academic side of things.”

“Are you saying there won’t be beer pong and a DJ during all lectures?”

“You won’t find out unless you enrol.”

I shove him playfully and he almost stumbles.

“Hey, easy there, breakdancing isn’t until the midterms.”

“Oh, then I’m definitely out, sorry. Different learning styles and all that.”

“Pity. I really think you’d do well here.” There’s something like disappointment in the way he says it. I lean closer and turn his face towards me.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me here for more… selfish reasons?”

It’s meant as a joke, or at least I think it is, but my chest feels strangely tight and my voice is husky, barely audible over the music.

Marten’s eyes become much too serious, and I can’t look away.

“I want you to do whatever you want to do.”

His words hang in the air between us, heavy and charged. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and for a second I expect him to break character and laugh it off as usual, but his hand reaches up, fingers lightly brushing along my arm. I can feel the heat radiating from him against my cool skin and the contrast gives me goosebumps.

I take a deep breath. He’s standing so close, his blue eyes locked on mine, waiting, almost daring me to make the first move.

“Jules…”

His gaze drops to my mouth, and I don’t let him finish. I close the space between us, pressing my lips to his. The kiss is warm, delicate – almost too delicate for how much tension has built up between us. But then, Marten puts his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me in closer, and the kiss deepens.

There’s nothing playful about him now. His lips are firm, commanding, and there’s a raw hunger in the way he kisses me, like he’s been waiting for this moment for a long time and now he can’t get enough.

It’s incredibly arousing.

My body is trapping him against the wall, and I can taste the faint remnants of beer on his lips, but more than that, I can sense his desire, his determination. His heart is racing and there’s a slight bulge in his jeans already. He’s clearly not as unaffected as he usually pretends to be.

We break the kiss for just a moment to catch our breaths, and I desperately try to regain some sort of control over the situation. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually want me.”

A grin spreads across his face. His hand stays on my waist, holding me close in a way that feels possessive, and he looks at me with that intensity that makes my heart skip.

“Want you? Fuck, Jules, I never wanted anything the way I want you. If you could read my mind every time I look at you, you wouldn’t be here, you’d have run away long ago.”

“Is that so? You know, you never showed me your room.”

“How very rude of me.”

He kisses me again. As he takes my hand and we walk towards the doors, someone cheers drunkenly, but I don’t care. In a way, the fact that everyone probably knows exactly where we’re going only makes me more excited.

Marten’s room looks more or less like I expected. Typical boy’s room, a few empty cans and dirty dishes, his computer featured prominently. A small robot stares at me, its eyes glowing creepily in the dark. Marten rests a hand on my thigh, and I wish he’d continue kissing me, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me, studying my face.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you here,” he says, his voice low, teasing, as he runs his thumb over my lip and I shiver, desperate for him to do more. But it’s like he’s savouring the moment. The way he kissed me felt like he’d been waiting for this forever, but now he’s in no rush.

“Really? I honestly thought you weren’t interested. You kept insisting we were just friends.”

“We are. Were. And I wasn’t sure you’d be looking for a nerd who’s into robots and talks too much just after dating… a celebrity.”

I appreciate that he doesn’t say the name, I don’t want to be reminded of that right now. I gently shove him backwards.

“It’s true, you do talk too much.”

“Can’t help it, you’ll just have to shut me up.”

I kiss him again, and his hands finally start exploring my body.

“You’re so fucking sexy”, he breathes, and it feels like electricity coursing through me. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.

I’m straddling his thigh, moving my hips desperately to get as much friction as possible. His erection is poking into my hip and he breathes in sharply each time I rub against him.

Neither of us is going to last long like this and I wish he’d hurry up and just fuck me, but he seems determined to tease me, see how far he can push me.

My patience runs out. I sit up, tearing off my top. There’s a small snap as the elastic band in my hair breaks and flies off into the darkness. Marten smirks and throws his own t-shirt to the floor after it.

We’re both frantic now, and when he reaches out to grab a condom from a drawer, I realise with a twinge of shame that I hadn’t even thought of that. Some daughter of a doctor I am.

Then he’s inside me, and I forget everything else. The friction from riding his thigh already brought me close, and we’re both surprised by how quickly I come. But I’m still wired up and I want more, bucking my hips against him, meeting every thrust while I wonder if his housemates can hear us.

Soon, too soon for my liking at least, Marten throws his head back and groans, moving in and out a few more times before collapsing on me.

Still breathing heavily, he rolls off.

“Fuck, Jules, that was… You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Maybe you should have let me know sooner.”

“I didn’t have to,” he says with a crooked smile, “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

I nestle into his arms, feeling content. Wanted.

When Marten speaks again, his voice is low, drowsy, he’s almost falling asleep.

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

My stomach flutters, and I let myself sink into his certainty.

Maybe this could turn into something great.

Maybe it already is.

navigation / previous / next

[lgchyoseop]

LGC5TH GIFT FROM CHA HYOSEOP, CHA SORI, KIM CHERRY AND JUJU!

wow... has it really been so long? five years is a lot of years, i've come and gone a couple of times, but soon i'll have a muse turning three years ! (congrats cha hyoseop, my idiot, i love you). this is an incredible community, i've gotten so many friends here, and i've had so much fun, me and my muses truly love legacy <3 as a gift for you all, i've gathered a bunch of quotes (around 200-ish), then given the quotes a number and used a randominzer to pick which quote each muse should have, so it's basically fate giving you this quote! thanks to legacy, the mods and members!

(you can use ctrl+f to search for your muses name)

ahn jaehwa “you have not failed, until you make failing stop you”

ahn yein “don’t let life discourage you; everyone who got where they are, had to begin where they were”

bae heejin “tough times never last, but tough people do”

bae nathan “define success on your own terms, achieve it by your own rules, and build a life you’re proud to live”

bae sojin “take chances, make mistakes. that’s how you grow. pain nourishes your courage. you have to fail in order to practice being brave”

baek byeongkwan “there is nothing on earth that blooms all year long. nature wasn’t created to do that and neither are you.”

baek seona “some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go”

carter jaejin “focus on the step in front of you, not the whole staircase”

cha hyoseop “sometimes our limitations tell us when to stop. but sometimes they can show us where to look next”

cha sori “it is not our abilities that make us who we are, it’s our choices”

chae rua “the only time you should ever look back, is to see how far you’ve come”

chen maylin “i wasn’t afraid to fail. something good always comes out of failure”

cho iseul “if you really want to do something, you’ll find a way. if you don’t, you’ll find an excuse”

cho minkyu “make failure your teacher, not your undertaker”

choi junkyu “i’d rather attempt something great and fail than to attempt nothing and succeed”

choi kai “in youth we learn, in age we understand”

gong hyejoo “there’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in” 

han hyunhee “do not fear mistakes, there are none”

han jisoo “a failure is not always a mistake, it may simple be the best one can do under the circumstances. the real mistake is to stop trying”

han noeul “hope is being able to see there is light, despite all of the darkness”

han rowon “if you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you’ll never enjoy the sunshine” 

han seunghyun “one that want the fruit, must climb the tree”

hirawa emi “if you focus on results, you will never change. if you focus on change, you will get results”

hwang minki “rise above the storm and you will find the sunshine”

im yunseo “nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘i’m possible’”

ito mio “you learn more from failure than success. don’t let it stop you. failure builds character” 

jeon haru “doubts kill more dreams than failure ever will”

jo eunwoo “the secret of getting ahead is getting started”

kang maximillian “success is a state of mind. if you want success, start thinking of yourself as a success” 

kang minjun “remember, you can regret things you did not do”

kang sarang “i hold it true, what’er befall, i feel it, when i sorrow most. tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”

kang yojoon “to be a champion you have to believe in yourself when no one else will”

kim cherry “i have not failed. i’ve just found 10.000 ways that won’t work”

kim jinhyuk “if you look closely, most overnight successes took a long time”

kim jinseo “turn your wounds into wisdom”

kim jinyoung “the best way to make your dreams come true, is to wake up”

kim nayoung “failure is a detour, not a dead-end-street”

kim sehun “only put off tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone” 

kim seyoon “don’t be pushed by your problems, be led by your dreams”

kim yujin “always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. try to be better than yourself.”

kuramoto misaki “follow your dreams, they show which way to go”

kurosawa akio “in order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear for failure”

kwon baekhyun “life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced” 

kwon hyuntae “the only thing that doesn’t change in life, is that thing changes” 

kwon sena “the sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore”

lai wenjun “being lost is not bad, as it is what happens before you find your way”

lee hyunsoo “the elevator to success if out of order. you’ll have to use the stairs… one step at a time”

lee jiho “if opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door” 

lee minji “don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds that you plant” 

lee yushin “time you enjoyed wasting, was not wasted” 

lim sanghyun “i will either find a way or make one”

liu yuxi “to lose is still to learn”

mae jasper “if you can’t fly, then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving” 

min chaeyeon “i can’t change the direction of the wind, but i can adjust my sails to always reach my destination

min hanbin “failure is simply the opportunity to try again, this time better-knowing”

min soyoun “some people want it to happen, some wish it to happen, be someone who makes it happen”

moon hayoung “don’t be afraid to give up the good to go for the great”

moon jiah “success only comes to those who dare attempt”

moon jino “you can’t connect the dots looking forward. you can only connect them looking backwards, so you have to trust that they will somehow connect in your future”

moon somin “do not let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do”

nam gyuri “the best way to predict the future is to create it”

noh areum “it is best to act with confidence, no matter how little right you have to it”

oh eunhye “life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards” 

okamoto kentaro “life isn’t about finding yourself, life is about creating yourself”

park chaekyung “we may encounter many defeats, but we must not be defeated”

park hyukjae “don’t wish it was easier, wish you were better. don’t wish for less problems, wish for more skills. don’t wish for less challenge, wish for more wisdom”

park seojin “exhale the past, inhale the future”

park sujin “scars only show us where we’ve been, they do not dictate where we’ll be”

park taeha “be not afraid of storms because you are learning how to sail your ship”

park zoe “difficulties are meant to rouse, not discourage. the human spirit is to grow strong by conflict”

seo minseo “sometimes good things fall apart, so better things can fall together”

seo nina “it does not matter how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop”

seo yura “your life does not get better by chance, it gets better by change”

shin jieun “in three words i can sum up everything i’ve learned about life: it goes on” 

son nabi “you need to let go of the past’s hand so you can catch the hand of the future”

su parker “you don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step”

sung haneul “if you fell down yesterday, stand up today”

takanashi asami “fairytales are more than true: not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten”

watanabe miyu “let the past take care of itself, and let the present move towards the future”

won yeonwoo “tomorrow is a mystery, yesterday is history, and today is a gift, that’s why they call it present”

xu lili “asking for help isn’t giving up, it’s refusing to give up”

xue yichen “never give up on a dream just because of the time it’ll take to accomplish it. the time will pass anyway”

yamashita ichika “anything is a journey if you start somewhere” 

yang aeri “you cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.”

yoo haemin “dreams do not have an expiration date, you can always keep trying”

yoon bitna “aim for the moon. if you miss, you may hit a star” 

yu milan “getting lost is part of the journey” zheng leo “don’t let the fear of losing be greater than the excitement of winning”

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 8 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here where it's still in need of love, if anybody is feeling kind *sobs* ;))

Chapter Eight

Eddie POV continued

“You kissed? And now you can’t wake him?” Robin perches beside Steve on the bunk then rounds on Eddie—genuinely baring her teeth. “I shouldn’t leave you alone with him. It’s like you’re cursing him or something.”

“Woah! Are you accusing me of satanist shit now?” Eddie stops pacing the floorboards, claws his hair.

“Steve? Steve! Oh God, please!” She gently pats him, sinks her face into a hand. “Sorry, Eddie. It’s just… totally unexplainable.” She looks up sharply. “That’s exactly what we should be looking for, right?”

“The unexplainable?” Robin nods. “I should be dead. Steve should be bright and breezy—”

“—and it’s not anything to do with the Upside Down.”

Eddie hums uneasily. Should he share the new theory he’s got brewing? “I dunno. It blows to be a cynic, but—"

“Come on, Eddie! There are so many other possible explanations. If the Upside Down is real, who knows what else is? You’re a maestro of the D and D underworld—work with me here.”

They bounce ideas off each other, including that Steve might’ve succumbed to bad beer. Neither of them buy that one.

“Maybe Steve has some sort of regenerative power,” she says, “like Doctor Who. And you’re leeching it out of him, or something.”

Eddie hoots: “It’s my fault again?”

“No! Look, I sometimes get kinda papa grizzly where Steve is concerned, which is odd, because otherwise, I have almost zero protective instinct. We can’t deny the pattern, though—last time you two got mouth to mouth, he performed miracles and then went downhill fast. This time, uh…”

“I slurped the life out of him again?” Eddie sinks down on the opposite bunk. He thinks back to the kiss, which had been so mind-blowingly awesome. Until it wasn’t. Time to test his number one sucks-balls-squared theory of the day.

He slowly peels his shirt—or, rather, Steve’s now extremely grubby t-shirt—off over his head.

“Ew! Save it for the boys, Munson.”

He runs his palm across his midriff, glances over his shoulder, then hurries closer to the window for better light. Holy shit. “I was still covered in scars yesterday. Even earlier today, there was too much pink among the ink. Now there’s diddly-squat.”

 “So, Steve is still healing you?”

Eddie scrunches the shirt and hurls it across the room. “Yeah, and at this rate, my payback’s gonna kill him! We’ve been so fixated on Steve—what if I’m somehow a font of crappy juju? The big bad wolf the whole world believes I am, after all.”

“No.” Robin strokes Steve’s arm. Eddie’s dying to be close to him, too. Shit, he doesn’t dare! “It’s the water. It gives him some kind of power, and he’s passing it on to you. I mean, it doesn’t explain everything, but…”

Eddie retrieves his shirt, grabs her lifeline and clings to it. “It’s as good an explanation as any.”

“Ooooh!” She turns super-excited. “Perhaps there are fairies in Lover’s Lake? Water nymphs? Or aliens landed there! I’m still mightily suspicious about those clouds and the choppers, because—”

“This is getting absurd, Robin.” She sneers at him, shrugs anyhow. “Look, if we buy the lake theory, what can we do about it? It’s not like we can drag him there. We left the car practically in the next county, and he’s too sick.”

“I could fetch water and bring it back here?”

“Given my recent form, I think it’s best for you to stay with him. Eddie the Banished will don his armour and head once more into the breach.”

“Shakespeare? You listened in English Lit?”

Eddie puffs out his chest, conjuring a bravado he so doesn’t feel. “Still gonna be my year, Buckley.”

His armour is chiefly the shelter of the forest, during several hours of tedious trek. He cycles the last part of his journey, pulling his bandana over his face. When he makes radio contact with Dustin, however, his journey feels more than worth it.

Eddie arranges a meet with the Wheelers at Skull Rock. At least, he believes he does. Dustin communicates in one of his more baffling codes. Eddie is blown away, therefore, when he spots his fave lil’ dude approaching their liaison spot. Dustin defiantly wears his Hellfire Club t-shirt, despite everything.

Dustin throws down his crutches. Eddie rushes forward and flings his arms around him.

“Eddie! You son-of-a-bitch! You scared me so much!”

“Yeeeah, I was pretty scared myself.” Eddie hugs him tight, squeezes his eyes tighter. Tears leak anyhow. “But I’m alive and…” He pulls back, drinks up the sight of Dustin, who sniffs and rubs his red face. “God, it’s good to see you.”

Somebody clears their throat. Eddie jumps a good two inches in the air.

“Hey.” Nancy Wheeler stands a few yards off, offering a sheepish wave, which Eddie returns.

It’s not really surprising she’s there. Someone had to give Dustin a ride, and help him limp through the woods. Sitting beneath the rock, the three of them discuss possible explanations for wtf is going on with Steve.

“Okay, let me get my head around this,” she says. “You think Steve derives some sort of regenerative power from Lover’s Lake? And he’s sick? Right now?” She frets her lip. “I should go to him.”

“Uuuuuh, no need. We’re coping all right.” Eddie almost laughs out loud at how badly he doesn’t want her anywhere near Steve. He’d never in his wildest dreams have believed he would go toe-to-toe as a love rival with Nancy Wheeler.

She shakes her head. “There’s gotta be a connection with the Upside Down. This is bad. Really bad.”

“Not necessarily,” says Dustin. “I like Eddie’s hypothesis. There’s no logical reason why all the supernatural shit in this town, let alone this world, is evil.”

“It was Robin’s hypothesis,” admits Eddie.

“Whatever,” says Dustin. “If a bad alternate dimension can bleed into ours, maybe a good dimension can too.”

“I suppose,” said Nancy. Eddie nearly agrees with her, but can’t quite be that gracious. “Either way, if that lake fixes Steve somehow, we need to act quick.”

Nancy heads off to collect lake water. Once she’s gone, Eddie feels able to share his other Steve-related issue: “Didn’t want to divulge this in front of Wheeler, but… Uh, Steve and I got mouth-to-mouth again.”

“You had to perform CPR on him? I had no idea you knew—”

“There’s other reasons that lips meet.” Eddie puckers his lips and crosses his eyes, totally silly. 

Dustin stares at him, his mouth hanging open. “Oh!”

“Yeah. Theeeeen… he basically passed out.”

“Whut?”

“Look, don’t ask me to explain it! I mean, I like him. I really like him. Equally implausible, I think he likes me, but…” Aargh! His feelings for Steve are more tortuous than pleasurable right now. What’s more, the distance between them makes armouring his heart a teeny-weeny bit easier. 

“But?” Dustin bobs up and down on his butt.

“If I’m making him sicker, I should make myself scarce. I still wonder if I’m the bad apple here. Flayed… or whatever. It would neatly continue the sordid tale that is my life. Plus, if Hopper’s back, I bet he can get Steve off the hook for aiding and abetting, or whatever. Steve can go home, get the help he needs.”

“Hopper’s got his own problems, dude.” Dustin scratches his head beneath his baseball cap, kinda nervy. “There’s this army colonel in town, O’Sullivan, who’s pretty much Vecna levels of evil. He knows about Brenner and Hawkins Lab, and… Long story, cut short. He’s out to kill Eleven.”

“You gotta be shitting me!”

“That was my line when I found out. Hopper and El are hiding out, waiting for a safe opportunity to get outta Dodge. The band of the banished gets bigger every day.”

“Well, this exile should return to being a solo act. Steve and I absolutely would not work in the real world.”

“Huh?” Dustin wrinkles his nose. “You’re different—that’s what makes it fun. Even Suzie and I don’t like all the same music, for example. She’s got a real downer on Debbie Gibson.”

“Then maybe I should date Suzie,” mumbles Eddie, avoiding Dustin’s scrutiny. “In reality, Steve and I are from different planets. I’ve seen his house—his folks are loaded.”

“You can’t hold Steve’s parents against him. They’re literally never there for him. His Dad travels tons, and they stopped taking him with him when he was, like, eleven, because…” Dustin’s jaw drops again.

“Because what?” prompts Eddie. 

“Steve stopped travelling with his parents because he started getting sick every time.”

“So, he got travel sick. So do tons of kids. So what?”

“I honestly don’t know! But it supports your theories concerning his proximity to the lake. Sort of.” Dustin whacks his cap against the rock. “Jesus-mother-effing-son-of-a-bitch! I am literally dying to return to a world where I can trust the laws of science.”

Steve POV

1979

Getting himself up in the morning, getting himself to the school bus-stop alone—that only sucked.

It was the emptiness of the night that freaked him out.

Steve stayed up too late, of course he did. He was nearly twelve years old, with nobody to tell him what to do. He ate sweets and watched grown-up television, which got boring pretty fast. When he finally plucked up the courage to go to bed, he’d huddle under the covers, muffling his ears. It never drowned out that horrible, screaming quiet.

Who knew silence could be so loud?

He missed his mom, and it hurt, too. Knowing she chose to leave him behind. 

He’d hated travelling, because in the last year, he’d always got ill. Like, not just travel sick, but fevers and chills and headaches and stomach cramps, always “ruining” his father’s trips. 

Inevitably, his dad decreed that he must stay behind, and the first couple of times, his mom stayed home with him. Then she’d told him his father needed her more. What did that even mean? Steve really, really needed her, simply to be there. Somewhere in the house.

She wasn’t. 

The hours would stretch on, while he was too scared to close his eyes, until…

The monsters barged out of the closet, rioting through his nightmares. Then THEY arrived, with their smooth, smiling face and whirlpool eyes. That wordlessly singing voice, trickling through the waters, reassuring him everything would be all right…

In the morning, shuffling to the bus-stop, he remembered them. Clearer than the monsters, even. Oh man, he could be so childish and unhip sometimes.

“Steve? Steve! Please wake up! You’ve been asleep for hours.”

A groan escapes him, and then: “Momma?” Somehow, he knows it’s not her. “Dad?”

He opens his eyes. 

Oh shit. 

No, that’s not where his life is now. He’s sure as hell not eleven-years-old! Robin looks faintly amused, and also like she wants to thump him: “Gonna give you a pass on that this once, Steve, then go bleach my brain.”

Part 9

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 10 Part 11

[xmariiitamiiix]

A fly caught in a Spider's Web: Suguru Geto x Reader: Chapter 4

We are about to have our next face to face with Geto next chapter

𝓨𝓪𝔂

Now with that out of the way please enjoy this chapter

“Now listen, I am not trying to insinuate anything, but I am curious,” your mother says as she sits across from you, eating the hamburger you made. “Why did you come to my house at midnight?” she asks, her eyes looking you over as you eat a fry.

“It’s complicated,” you reply, your eyes cast down on your plate. Your mother lowers her head to meet your eyes.

“Hello, Y/n, I’m right here,” she says. You meet your mother’s eyes, and she smiles. “I’m your mother; you should be able to tell me these types of things.”

You nod. “I know, it’s… it’s really just complicated, Mom.”

Suguru Geto—he was a tall man, almost about 6’0", but man, did he have the prettiest long black hair you’d ever seen. It looked so silky, even from the stage where you were watching him before he confronted you and showed how much of a crazy man he was. His facial features were sharp, and his eyes were a lovely violet color, but those dark blue gauges showed you that he knew how to have fun. Though now that you were thinking about it, he probably had too much fun.

The light flickers.

“Hm? That was odd,” your mother says as she looks at the dining room light above you two.

“...Right,” you reply as your eyes also go towards the light. Your mother looks back at you for a moment before she starts to rub her shoulder.

“Those lights are new—just got them changed,” she says as the lights flicker again.

“Ugh,” she sighs, continuing to rub her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, concerned.

“Nothing, it’s just my shoulder has been aching a lot lately for some reason.”

You frown. “That sucks.”

Your mother nods in agreement and smiles. She folds her arms against her chest. “Yeah, that sucks alright.” Her eyes drift to the couch, then back to you. “You know, maybe you should go back home to get more things,” she says as you look over at the couch, then at her.

“To get more comfortable,” she clarifies, shaking her head. “You were so excited to move and go out deeper into the great city. It would be a shame to have you cooped up here in Momma’s nest again.”

You nod as your mind drifts to the flickering dining room light from a few seconds ago. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I’ll be having work tomorrow anyway,” you reply.

I don’t want any of my bad juju rubbing off on Mom, you think.

After leaving your mother’s house, the drive back to your place is rather uneventful—for the first time in a while—that is, until you unlock your door.

“What the…” your kitchen chair is in the living room, and the recliner chair is faced toward it. Your eyes move to the television stand, where you see the picture frame of you, your mother, your sister, and her kids at the beach. You close the door, not daring to go inside just yet, as you let out a deep sigh and rest your back against the wall.

“Why me?”

After a moment of collecting yourself, you place your hand around the door knob again, but before opening the door, you look down and find a card on the ground.

“A card?” You bend down and pick it up.

The Ascendant Star Order?

You fold up the card and enter your apartment, closing and locking the door behind you. Tossing the card into the trash, you take a look around your kitchen. Pots and pans are on the stove. You walk in, peeking inside them, finding nothing. Your eyes shift to the dining room, where all the chairs are in their proper place, except the one kitchen chair still in your living room. The random placement of your objects makes you curious about your bedroom. You grab a pair of scissors and start your venture.

Your eyes scan the white walls of the hall leading to your bedroom. On the way, you open the closet door, angling the scissors upwards just in case, only to find nothing. You move on, walking into your bedroom with a frown.

You always close your bedroom door.

Everything in your bedroom is exactly how you left it, minus the picture frame still in the living room. You get on your knees and look under the bed, finding nothing. You move towards the closet, look around, and again, nothing. You go to the bathroom, inspecting it, but everything looks to be in place.

“I’ve got to change my locks.” You walk back to the apartment door. “Fuck what the landlord says,” you mutter as you grab your keys, phone, and bag, heading to your car.

On your way out, the apartment building hall light above you flickers once, then again. You look up at the light.

“What a shitty apartment.” You swing the apartment building door open and head to your car. “Can’t wait to leave this apartment.”

You reach for your car door handle, but halt as you spot another card on your windshield. You pick it up and turn it over.

The Ascendant Star Order. Feel free to call us at XXX-XXX-XXXX.

“Tsk, again.” You open your driver’s door and enter your car, crumbling up the card into a ball and tossing it behind your seat.

The drive to the hardware store is uneventful, as is getting everything you need to change the locks on your apartment door. Thank God for how-to videos.

It doesn’t even take long before you’re done installing the new locks. Now, you’re sitting on your couch in the apartment, greeted by your not-so-friendly house guests, as the smell of rot returns.

“Damn it, I really should have just stayed at my mother’s place,” you groan. “I could have just... fuck.” You look at your television as it turns on.

“I’m not interested in TV, screw off,” you say, and the television turns off. You chuckle lightly, but it soon fades as the apartment lights flicker. You stand, looking at the lights before glancing towards the kitchen as some cabinets fly open. You take a deep breath.

“Home sweet home.” Your lip wobbles, but you suck it up and enter the kitchen to close the cabinets. “I pay too much in rent to be scared of some ghosts,” you say, your voice shaky as you rub your shoulder. “Stupid.” Your voice wobbles again as you kick the last lower cabinet shut.

“You know, maybe you should go back home and get more things,” your mom’s voice says from behind you. You turn around.

“You know, maybe you should go back home and get more things.” You turn forward.

“You know, maybe you should go back home and get more things.” Your head turns to your left, then your right, as you start crying.

“GO AWAY!” your mother’s voice yells as you run to your bedroom. You close and lock the door, jumping into bed, crying.

“Why, why, WHY?!” you scream into your pillow.

You have a hard time sleeping that night. The sensations of being watched and the soft buzzing intensify each time you close your eyes, along with the overwhelming sense of something approaching you. That sensation stops only when you open your eyes. It gnaws at you, and the fact that someone got into your apartment, even though you changed the locks, doesn’t make things easier. You close your eyes again, only to be greeted by the grotesque image of a dark figure with large eyes and a smile. It tilts its head as if trying to get a better look at you before you open your eyes.

“Okay, Miss Cranky Puss, who peed in your Cheerios today?” Rita asks as you look over at her. “Damn girl, did you even sleep?” she leans forward.

“No, I haven’t gotten any sleep at all,” you say, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“Now, I remember telling you that the last conversation we had was far from over, so...” Rita opens her palm toward you. “You got the stage, lay it down on me.”

You look back at your computer, then at her. “Are you sure you want to hear my mess?”

Rita nods. “You hear mine all the time, why not?” she responds.

You nod in agreement. “I guess you have a point.”

Rita swats at your arm. “You weren’t supposed to agree,” she teases, and you laugh.

“I just... I think I’m being haunted, basically,” you reply.

Rita nods. “...Okay then…” She drums her fingers against her thighs. “Well, what’s making you think that?” she asks.

“Well, I have these sensations of being watched, you know, by something. Then there’s this smell of rot that I couldn’t get out no matter how hard I scrubbed my floors. Then there was...” You pause.

I can’t talk about the voices. She already seems turned off from this; I don’t need her thinking I’m crazy, you think.

“But also, I found some furniture in my apartment moved around, and it wasn’t me. Nor did I have a friend house-sit. I was at my mother’s because she was lonely,” you fib.

Rita leans back. “Y/n, that is scary as hell. What do you mean, stuff was moved in your apartment and you weren’t even there? That’s insane.” Rita leans in again. “Are you sure no one tried to steal from you or something?”

“Everything was untouched, besides the things they did move,” you respond.

“So someone broke into your apartment—that’s what it sounds like to me, besides the other weird shit, right?”

You nod in agreement. “That’s how my life is going right now.”

Rita nods as she remembers something. “Oh yeah.” She stands and goes to her cubicle, then hands you a card. “This really hot monk guy gave me this card and told me to give it to you. I don’t know why, but there.”

Your heart drops as you read the card.

The Ascendant Star Order. Call us now at XXX-XXX-XXXX. From, Geto.

You gulp. “You said a really hot monk guy?”

Rita nods. “He had long black hair, smoldering violet eyes, tall and lean. I’d jump if I wasn’t on my way to work.”

You snort, but anxiety pools in your stomach at the description. “He didn’t tell you his name or anything?” you ask.

“Geto was all that he gave me,” Rita says.

You crumble the card into a ball and toss it in the trash. “It’s no good.”

“Hey, that was the number to reach the really hot monk guy!” Rita whines as she fishes it out of the trash. “Here, in case you change your mind. It’ll be in my junk drawer,” she says, placing it in the bottom drawer of her desk.

“I’d have to be very desperate before I’d ever use that,” you reply.

Rita frowns and sits down at her desk. “What? You got a thing against hot monks?” she sasses.

Yeah, if said hot monk is that crazy bastard, you think, as you reply, “He probably wasn’t even that hot anyway.”

Rita shakes her head. “Trust me, if you saw him, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

You frown this time. Geto was hot, but he was crazy. And while crazy and hot was, well, hot… this was real life, and things don’t end up well with such a combination.

“You know, he was kind of prissy,” Rita says. “He was all like, trying to keep his distance from me like I was sick with the plague or something.” She mocks Geto, holding her arm out and leaning back. “But he was hot, so I’ll let it slide.” Rita smirks.

You shake your head, smiling. “Hot people have to have some flaws, don’t they?” you reply, and Rita hums in agreement.

After another tiring day at work, you walk out to your car. As you reach for the driver’s side handle, your eyes zone in on a card. You let out a sigh and grab it.

The Ascendant Star Order. Call us now at XXX-XXX-XXXX.

You scoff and crumble it up. A voice whispers against your ear.

“Might want to give that phone number a call.”

You jolt and turn around, only to see nothing.

“Come on, don’t you want to make all those nasty spirits disappear?” the voice nags. You turn towards the direction of the voice again, but once again, there’s nothing.

Make them disappear?

You enter your car, gazing down at your steering wheel.

Right, that Suguru Geto guy can make them all disappear.

Your hands clench your steering wheel tightly.

But why him? Why, out of all who could help me, does it have to be them?

You close your eyes as the sounds of the distorted whining of cursed spirits surround you. You place your hand on your upper arm, rubbing it where Geto had grabbed you the first time you met.

“Shit.”

Should I go?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Honestly if I were in their shoes I would have already been shitting bricks by now so yeah.

[creepy--claws]

Creepy. SexymanStuck AU.

it's like.. Set in 2013 and the game is fully released to the public.

The kids n trolls(4 now):

- Onceler (knitsWit [KW] ), Prince of Light (huge thanks 4 Ziin for helping meh with this)

- Junko (aphroditesBitch [AB]), Witch of Rage

- Queen (digitizedDiva [DD] ), Rogue of Void

- Popee/Hanabishi (lunaticPierrot [LP]), Bard of Heart

- Nagito (muttsAmbition [MA]), Prince of Hope, Cobalt.

- Scourge (hemoglobinUnguis [HU]), Prince of Blood, Olive.

- Bill (psychadelicArmegeddon [PA]), Lord of Rage, Purple.

- Jessie (serpentineVanity [SV]),Knight of Heart, Violet

-Reigen (metaphysicalPhony [MP]), Thief of Mind, Teal

-Tony (kronossVexation [KV]), Heir of Time (thanks again Ziin!), Jade

- Marceline (vampiricRocker [VR]), Knight of Blood, Rust

The Guardians + Dancestors (4 now):

-Mettaton (Queen's dad)

-Isabelle (Onceler's mom)

-Nichiteru/Papi (Hanabishi/Popee's dad)

-Mukuro (Junko's sister)

-Kaworu (Nagito's dancestor)

- Joxter (Scourge's dancestor)

-Yosano (Jessie's dancestor)

-Cecil (Bill's dancestor)

-Homura (Tony's dancestor)

-Marshall (Marceline's dancestor)

-Cedric (Reigen's dancestor)

Ancestors (4 now):

- The Fake Idol/Gromaeda (Kaworu & Nagito)

- The Huntsman/Bokutachi San (Joxter & Scourge)

-The Swordswoman/Peko (Yosano & Jessie)

Random funny facts! :

- Hatsune Miku is the Nic Cage of this whole fuckin thing

- Junko and Onceler met on moviestarplanet, Popee and Queen met on a Vocaloid RP forum

-The Fake Idol and Huntsman are doomed boy yuri. this ends up making their descendants either love eachother or be best friends

- everyone, if not most of them calls Onceler "Hatfreak"

-Nagito's typing quirk is 4 and Kaworu's is 12. Why? Because 4x3=12

-Nichiteru and Mettaton worked together once at a show

- There's a running joke where Nagito ends up headless one way or another, I mean his dancestor IS Kaworu after all

- sometimes, Vocaloid songs are used as symbolism.

- Onceler's mom is homophobic so he knits in his room in secret because he didn't want his mom to think he was a sissy.

- order of who connected to who:

Onceler > Junko > Hanabishi > Queen

- Scourge dresses emo

- Onceler has Dirk's splinter problem (again, thank you Ziin)

- Sans and Papyrus are the cherubs in this and their juju is actually a fucking rocket pop

- I have a fucking hs weekly account of 4$ale (Onceler♠Nagito) on TWT and I post there on thursdays.

Playlist thing 4 Ancestor story:Voices of Svaahaa, Alice of Human Sacrifice, Song For Great Satan, Sleepyhead, De Kieru and Ballooon Syndrome.

So basically Gromaeda starts a cult, a few members find out what's been going on behind the scenes and in the end Gromaeda execution by beheading. this is also the reason why there's a running gag about Nagito losing his head alot.

misc songs I associate with this: You In The Building, Ekoroshia, Fun Escape From The Human Flesh Forest, Cotton Candy, Dancing in circles until my little clown feet fall off, Neri Chika & ZONED.

Hoooky shir dude. This is the longest I assume idk

n e ways hope u liek it!!

[● Going to pretend Junko isn't in this

Also I'm going to assume Scourge is from Warrior Cats and if that's true, holy piss that's funny and awesome (I am a huge Scourge fan bc he's just like me fr)

This is kind of epic and I like the 2000s/2010s world building you've done to make it feel like homestuck, and sort of make it feel realistic in a way

I also appreciate the care you gave into everything, like selecting the dancestors and ancestors for the characters, selecting their chum/trollian handles, and even the Gromaeda stuff. I also appreciate the song associations you made, I only recognize like 2 but I think they're very fitting. Thanks again for this epic post!]

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

thoughts on the retcon? (admittedly this is an excuse to share my own opinions and see how someone else feels about it)

I personally loved it, but I feel like the landing wasn't quite stuck. To me it felt like Terezi's arc, a very important moment for her to refind her purpose, and it ended with Vriska doing her job as seer and coming up with the whole plan. It doesn't help post-retcon Vriska with what happened to ghost pirate Vriska right after her finding the juju (my favorite Vriska moment in the whole comic)

but I get the point is that Vriska's a thief of light and is therefore stealing the spotlight, I guess a frustrating bit of Homestuck is that its will to follow meta rules and logic like this can shoot itself in the foot sometimes.

i have, like many others, mixed feelings about the retcon. but my own feelings over the years have slid towards the Aggressively Neutral side. it is a Thing that happened in homestuck.

honestly, i wouldve warmed up to the idea more if we had time to explore these versions of the characters more, because as homestuck has drilled into my head, each timeline is distinct from each other and the characters we followed from previous timelines still exist. we didnt get much time with the new dynamic of the meteor crew and vriskagram was an obvious "im vriska making this video and me being alive made everything better see?"

and i definitely agree with you that terezi got badly snubbed with the planning part of the final battle, but i think her monolog before [s] terezi: remember kind of highlights that. terezi is codependent on vriska and has difficulty saying no to her or speaking up with her because of her guilt over almost killing her. she feels inadequate and i cant blame her for not feeling confident enough to be the one making the preparations for [s] collide.

it also definitely hurt vriskas character development, which is a shame because i found (vriska) to have a VERY interesting character arc. vriska post-retcon is actually WORSE than before because she also has the inflated ego of the knowledge that paradox space folded in half to allow her to live.

and im like, ok no yeah, they dont HAVE to have satisfying character arcs, they dont have to become "good people," its remarked right before act 7 in-universe that theyre "people not arcs."

but the retcon to me is just like. a Thing that happens. an important thing that changes a lot of the characters, yes, but. A Thing.

and i guess like. i can appreciate the closed loop of it all. vriska is killed by terezi. aranea is brought back to life and abandons meenah. aranea is killed by an alternate version of meenah. vriska is brought back to life by terezi.

these girls and their toxic codependent homoerotic teen friendships

[kiankiwi]

girlDad!felix taking the girls out for a spa day and him joining in 🎀

Oh he LOVES when we get our nails done and everything so his heart swells on JuJu's very first valentines day where she's big enough to come with her momma and be included in the girls day!

**

We wake up to a giant iced coffee, our favorite expensive chocolate, and a bouquet of flowers by our bedside and Felix gets back into bed to wake us up with kisses and cuddles and we're so excited because it's a day of love and we can't wait to shower baby girl with so much love!

We walk into the kitchen to find Felix had set up JuJu's valentines basket for us and HIS valentine to Juliet is HUGE (on purpose)

"Y'know where we're gonna go today sweetheart?" Felix asks as he leans down to kiss our shoulder. "Where?" We whisper, still a little sleepy but his kisses cause zings of energy to erupt under our skin.

"All three of us are going to the spa to our nails done. Unless you want it to be a girls day with you and just the bubba. Then I'll stay here. By myself." To tease you, Felix huffed and pouted at you, turning his puppy dog eyes up to 100. He wanted to be included you were sure.

"No baby, please come, Juliet would LOVE for you to come with us." You whispered.

Just then you heard the telltale pitter patter of tiny feet come towards you and seconds later, your daughter stumbled into the kitchen with her blankie trailing behind her. Felix's eyes lit up with absolute love and he ran and scooped up his sleepy daughter. "Hi good morning, princess!" He pressed his forehead to Juliet's and gave her a kiss. "Happy Valentines day my love!"

"Dank 'oo!" Juliet mumbled sleepily as she laid her head on her daddy's shoulder. "Here, look baby, look what daddy made for you!" You gestured to the Valentines basket Felix had set up for her. "WOAH LOOK MAMA!" Juliet yelped as she rifled through the basket, looking through all of the goodies. You smiled and rubbed her back "I see baby! That's all for you!"

After eating a couple pieces of chocolate, Felix tickled her to get her attention again. "Juju, guess what we're doing today?"

Juliet looked up to her father with those big bug eyes that matched her fathers, chocolate already all over her face. And it was only 8:30 in the morning. "Hmm?"

"You, momma and daddy are going to... THE SPA!" You gasped in excitement, "We can do those face masks that always make daddy look so funny and get our nails and toesies done!" Juliet's eyes lit up at the mention of getting her nails done. She LOVES having her nails painted. "YAY MAMA!" Felix smiles hugging onto his bubba.

Two hours later, Juliet scrambles up into the big chair at the nail salon + spa and smiles so wide, just happy to be included in a "big girl" activity. "Good job, what color would you like sweetie?" The nail tech asks. Juliet knew that you usually asked Felix his opinion on the colors you chose for your nails because he liked to be included so she turned to her daddy and asked, "What color daddy?" Felix smiled. "Hm, how about purple munchkin?" Felix chose his babys favorite color on purpose. She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, porble pwease!" Juliet yelled.

You ended up getting a light purple as well to match Juliet while Felix chose a baby blue on his fingers. Juliet was just happy that all 3 of you were doing something girly together.

"Guess what's next Juju!" You said as someone brought over a jar full of a mud mask. "GOOPY FACES!" She yelled.

3 hours later, all three of you had fresh faces and painted nails and you all felt so pampered as you came home. "How was that Juju did you have fun?" Felix asked as she cuddled into him as he brought her into the mansion. "Yeah... was fun." She said quietly as she nodded off on her daddy's shoulder. "Good, should we go find your blankie and have a nap?" He asked. Juliet couldn't answer, she was already passed out.

**

I hope this was okay :)

[s10127470]

My Upcoming Fics and Feedback Requests

Hey there folks!

As I'm sure any of you who has visited by blog page know that I'm a writer on Archive of Our Own.

And so far, I've shared two of my works here.

Those being Disney Mirrorverse: The Series and X-Men: The Next Mutation.

Well I'm here today to announce three upcoming fanfics I have in the works right now.

Not sure if anyone has ever done something like this on Tumblr, but hey, there's a first for everything.

First we have "Maximum Marvel"!

Based off DeputyRustArt's AU of the same name, this series will serve as a commemoration of the 85th anniversary of Marvel Comics.

Heavily inspired by media such as Justice League Action and even Marvel's very own Adventures series, the series itself focuses on the adventures on the various heroes of the Marvel Universe.

And like those two pieces of media I just mentioned, it's more light-hearted and comedic than most Marvel entries, but still has a lot of action!

The series will be sort of a back-to-basics.

Bring many of the Marvel characters back to familiar roles they haven't been in for a long time.

Another major draw of this series will be that'll it essentially MAX out the Marvel characters.

(it's in the name)

And that'll be by either giving them some kind of new power, ability or equipment, or shedding light on skills they canonically have but rarely ever showcase.

The series will be premiering next Friday (August 31st).

Next we have The Nicksquad.

Set in a universe where the Nicktoons co-exist with each other in one big world (and specifically in a huge city known as Nicktropolis), the series focuses on the misadventures of The Nicksquad.

The Nicksquad itself consists of the main stars from the following Nicktoons:

-SpongeBob SquarePants

-The Loud House

-The Fairly OddParents

-All Grown Up!

-Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

-Avatar: The Last Airbender

-Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius

-Invader Zim

-Hey Arnold!

-Danny Phantom

-My Life as a Teenage Robot

-El Tigre

-The Mighty B!

-As Told by Ginger

-ChalkZone

-The Wild Thornberrys

-Sanjay and Craig

-Tak and the Power of Juju

The best way I can describe this series the feel of this series that it's a mix between MTV's Downtown, Mission Hill, The Powerpuff Girls, Regular Show, Static Shock, Jellystone and The Boondocks.

The series will be premiering sometime this fall.

And finally, we have Spider-Man: Family Values.

In the universe of this series, our family neighborhood Spider-Man is finally in an area that we've been wanting to see him in for nearly 20 years now....

BEING A FAMILY MAN!

Yep! Peter is HAPPILY MARRIED to Mary Jane and is the father to 5-year old Mayday Parker!

The series focuses on Peter and Mayday's adventures across the much bigger Marvel Universe alongside the rest of the Spider-Family.

Which consists of Shadow Spider (Miles Morales), Venom, Agent Anti-Venom, Black Cat and Silk.

Essentially this series will be like a mix between Goof Troop and Batman: The Brave and the Bold.

If you couldn't tell be now, this series will have a prominent theme about family.

The series will premiere sometime in November.

Yeah, I wanted to have it premiere alongside Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, similar to how Next Mutation premiered alongside X-Men '97.

Also, the November premiere fits perfectly with the theme of family.

Ya know, Thanksgiving and all that.

Well, those are my three upcoming projects for you to keep a lookout for!

But before I go, I wanted to share the main reason I made this post.

I know may of the people who know about me have checked out the two fanfics I have out.

Since I did make posts that shared the links to each one.

And after nearly six months, I figured it was time to ask for some feedback.

I'd really love to hear your thoughts about the fics.

Answer any questions you may have about them.

And most of all, for you guys to express some hopes for the fics and even share some ideas you have for it.

In regards to both the current two and the three coming later this year.

Anyway, that's all I have for now.

A short post, I know.

But something to get my thoughts and hopes across.

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

Black. Everything feels so dark. My heart is as empty as the city night sky.

I guess that’s how Juju felt before we met. That insistent pain pricking my soul and weighing on me like a whale struggling to get back into clean waters after being washed up on shore.

Suffocating, painful, heavy..But the moon..The moon sometimes shines whenever it’s not shrouded by storm clouds and its’ glow is so comforting..so soft and gentle. To me, it’s the hope that holds my sorrowful heart’s being in its’ embrace as the darkness attempts to surround us with its’ menacing blackness.

The moon..that hope..it reminds me of two things ; the Hanukkah song

‘We have come to banish the darkness,

In our hands light and fire.

Every one is a small light,

And together we are a strong light.

Go away darkness,

move on blackness!

Go away before the light!’

And the second thing that the moon reminds me of is my JujuBear’s silvery eyes 💗🎑

May our hope for happier, more peaceful and loving days be answered with pure heavenly light!

[nrdmssgs]

Guys, I usually say 'lets read the good stuff', but this is something new. I want you to read and learn with me today. And we will be learning, how Russian literature functions and what can you steal (and stealing as an artist is quite a skill and a good thing) from it to make your fanfiction. Before we jump to it: I know next to nothing about Juju, so any of my assumptions may be wrong. I also used a term 'stealing', but by no means do I hint on Juju stealing anything!! They clearly grew up in a very rich cultural context, they read a lot and it shows. The reason, why we will be stealing things is that I will try to a quick dive in Russian literature without forcing you to read Russian classics.

Russian literature loves existential reflection.

Jujus world is full of little lively details, yet it's so cold and lonely there. The cold, oppressive environment mirrors the introspection of the reader, symbolizing internal struggles and a yearning for connection. Colorful windows are there, but they don't warm us up, we are still alone out there. The narrative constantly reflects on the emptiness and desolation of the world, even as it acknowledges the signs of life around. And this is something that you find in Dostoevskys Saint Petersburg. The duality of existing in a world teeming with life, but feeling utterly alone is very common for Russian culture and Juju demonstrates, how can you bring this piece to your fanfiction.

Rich descriptions.

Russian literature revolves around them. Be it Tolstoys page-long sentences or "Purpur twilight with glitter of snow wraps itself around another building that forgot it used to be white." If you want to bring this tingle of Russian classics to your story - treat your environment as a character that need as much description and dynamics as your OC.

Focus on human connection and longing.

Even when everything you talk about is a cold-cold world around - don't forget the real reason behind this all. The longing for another person (Nikto) and the comfort of shared warmth is central to the story. This focus on deep emotional bonds, despite an external environment of coldness and detachment, is often found in Russian literature (like in Lermontovs poetry where his characters are usually very confused guys, trying to figure out what are they missing so hard and finding out, its simple human bonds)

Symbolism.

You want to enrich your story - season it with symbols, you want to make your story full or Russian doomer-like vibes - make these symbols about imprisonment and freedom. The description of snowflakes as "inmates that weren't lucky enough to escape" does the trick perfectly.

Complex emotional depictions.

Despite a popular archetype characters in Russian literature are not these always screaming, laughing, bear-fighting daredevils. Usually, they are guys that try to relive 20 different emotions at once and not make it too obvious. The interplay of subtle emotions, such as the hesitation, longing and quiet warmth shared between the reader and Nikto, reflects the emotional nuance often present in Russian literature. Characters rarely express their emotions directly. Instead, their feelings are revealed through small gestures and actions, much like the "subtle smile" that "lights up his face and evaporates."

Melancholic tone and acceptance of suffering

Look, Russian classic authors love angst and hurt with no comfort. So even in the fluffiest fluff they would write something like “Harsh cold kissing you with the passion of death personified. Something you're familiar with.” Because you, the reader, coming to the text raised from Russian culture are doomed to suffer. You are a stoic now, you embrace suffering as an inescapable part of life. And this is something that happens with every second character in Russian literature.

Ok this was not just a good stuff, this was a journey. Thank you Juju!

Hey, @nrdmssgs, sorry for annoying you, I'm mostly tagging you not for the text, but for the video. I just... thought you'd get it, you know? Sorry in advance if that won't really do anything for you.

It's just a little Nikto x reader something.

Song: Раньше в твоих глазах - Кино

Hot exhale turns into dampness on the cloth covering your mouth when it comes into contact with the cold air outside. Thick knitwear protects tender insides, but irritates skin around your lips, so pulling it down brings short relief before frosty wind bites into the vulnerable wet patches. Wiping it off with your sleeve is futile, wooly coat already covered in prickly snowflake crystals that melt against your skin, so you end up letting it go. Harsh cold kissing you with the passion of death personified.

Something you're familiar with.

Grey bumpy wall of a panel house with a cage wart of cellar maintenance entrance, frozen lock defying gravity and utterly useless with rusty hinges that will come off from a little nudge, protects you from the calm blizzard; little flame from your lighter licking at the end of your cigarette and successfully lighting it up first try. Orange light powers up with your first drag, shining just as bright and useless as the warm street lamps along the alley.

It's the cold, white ones, exposing every little snowflake incoming like icy missiles of the sky army, that actually do something to the darkness. Barely afternoon and it already feels like the middle of the night.

Smoke turns into purple mist when you breathe it out into the illusive air with the moisture of your lungs.

The world feels empty as you walk. It's undeniably riddled with signs of life, yellow windows of apartment complexes with a few pink or purple sprinkled in, crows cursing the cold, God - or maybe even you - hoarsly, crunchy snow pressed into a slippery surface by dozens of boots that walked in since the snowfall started. And yet you're filled with the peaceful feeling of being completely alone.

Funny how that makes you going out to the streets useless - before you exited your apartment, you were gearing up in warm clothes to meet someone. As soon as you stepped outside, liminal world of non-existent time - dawn, dusk and afternoon all at once - claimed you into its twilight mist.

Purpur twilight with glitter of snow wraps itself around another building that forgot it used to be white and pushes you between your shoulder blades. Same whirlwind moves a children's swing on a playground, fresh layer of snow where there's no one to sit anymore.

There's no one to lend you gloves as your fingers grow stiff, clutching an unflavoured cigarette. To your right, an endless stone wall with barbed wire on top drags along. Fluffy snowflake conglamerates get pierced by the spikes like inmates that weren't lucky enough to escape.

A bright white street lamp works as a floodlight in this one-person prison, sharp shadows softened by the twilight.

Crows notice him first. Shoulders slightly slouched to brace against the wind, hands deep in the pockets of a worn jacket with thick padding, heavy steps sinking into the fresh layer of powdered diamonds - a beast treading the zone. Grumpy birds scatter away, flapping their ashy black wings, unsynchronized choir of curse caws rolls off the man's broad shoulders with snow.

He notices you only after you drop what's left of your cigarette on the ground, barely warm butt burrowing itself into a tiny black dip, and take off. His steps stutter, then pick up again, and by the time you slam yourself into his sturdy chest, Nikto is already prepared for impact and doesn't even sway, catching you.

His hands are securely protected by thick black gloves, yet you still feel the desperation his fingers dig into your back through all the layers of winter clothes.

"Komu veleno bylo doma sidet', zhdat'?"* Voice muffled by his mask, he scoffs at the way you blatantly ignore his question, and leans even more in to brush what's left of his nose underneath against yours.

"I just wanted to meet you halfway." You shrug and roll your eyes as you see him pull off his gloves. A moment later your hands start boiling - fluffy insides of Andre's gloves accumulated so much warmth that your fingers prickle as they warm up.

"And I hoped I'd get fresh tea as soon as I come home." He chuckles, reaching into your pocket unceremoneously and fishing the cigarette pack and lighter out.

You escape the prison floodlight brightness and under gloomy protection of thickened twilight and grey concrete he exposes just his mouth to light the cigarette and take a drag.

"I boiled some literally a few minutes ago. And made pirozhki. A fuckton, actually, just in case someone comes home really hungry."

It's impossible to miss his subtle smile once you learn to catch it in the mere seconds it lights up his face and evaporates, like a shitty lightbulb at the stairwell of your building, reeking of old cigarette ash from the cat food can people use as ashtray at the bottom step. Nikto tilts his head up, letting the wind take his smoke and add it to the clouds that turn water into powdered sugar on the ground.

"S chem?"*

A panel house opens its maw, letting you both inside.

You stomp your feet in unison on the dirty, wet communal carpet, adding to the melted snow on it, before you move to the elevator.

"With love."

*Komu veleno bylo doma sidet', zhdat'? - Whom did I tell to sit and wait at home?

*S chem? - With what (filling)?

[nataywrites]

Hello there! I hope you are well today. It's cloudy here, but bright too. The clouds are faintly yellowed by the dust and illuminated by the sun shining through them. So bright that the glossy, emerald leaves of the maple tree outside my window reflect back the hue of the clouds where the light catches them. The wind gently tousles the leaves as if it was a giant hand running fingers through hair and the boughs bounce with the shifting air.

I haven't been outside yet today. Everything I see is through the glass of my window, which is spotted with fingerprints and dust. I know there are things I need to be doing, but it is so hard to lift myself from this spot. Executive function is not always my strong suit, and right now is the perfect example of that fact. I'm not lazy, though I know some others might describe me that way. Others that have no more perspective into my life than the bright clouds above.

What needs to be done can wait, because right now I have something more important that needs attending. I must tell you about yesterday. I must tell you, because it will do you, my friend-family, some good and I can begin the slow process of grasping the intimate act of submitting to strangers my very insides. The parts of me that not even I have seen the inside of. A place as alien to me as the moon, and yet I needn't travel so far to reach it.

Yesterday, I woke at 2:30 with my first alarm. It was still dark outside, and the birds wouldn't start chirping until about 4am. I waited the fifteen minutes until I could start the second half of my prep, a foul concoction so sweet it made my jaw clench as I gulped it down by the glassful. The most disgusting lemonade I've ever had- it is hard to ruin lemonade! Propylene Glycol is very good at ruining lemonade. It is also really good at emptying a person. I finished the prep and waited until it was time to wake Addie for the drive.

When we left, I wanted to drive past my parent's house so I could wave at the window. Even though I knew they were likely busy preparing for their trip and wouldn't be in the family room, I still waved. Sometimes we need to say goodbye to someone, even silently, for our own sake. Not a permanent goodbye. I needed to say goodbye to them because it is my act of loving them from afar and wishing them a safe and delightful trip. We embody and manifest what we believe and uphold. Mental hygiene and good juju. As if my wishes for them influence the energy of the world, even though I know that things happen as part of consequence and coincidence rather than fate.

The sky was blue with streaky clouds as if someone decided to blot at it with whiteout high above where the big, fat, puffy mashed potato clouds sit. I did my best to sleep on the way down, napping between semi trucks and speeding weekend warriors. The funny thing about the road is that it is one of the few places where everyone is equal- the working man in his fancy suit, the road tripper with the backseat mounded with snacks and wrappers, the elderly man that can barely pull his chin up above the steering wheel, and me. Traveling to get answers, my wife at the wheel steering me towards them with tenderness and care. I was her precious cargo.

We took our seats in the waiting room of the joint urology/ GI advanced specialty clinic at the town-that-is-a-hospital after I checked in. There were plenty of other people there. A sweet little elderly woman and her daughter. An older gentleman tenderly pushed his wife in a wheelchair to the counter. A younger woman, like me, waiting for a chance to be seen. All of us were there for different maladies, but we were all looking for the same thing: answers.

My pre-op nurse came out to get me. She took me to a room and sat me on the exam table, then left so I could change. My new uniform was a gown and grippy grey socks. I didn't take the pregnancy test. I had nothing to give them. My body was empty but for the last remnants of prep that still lingered in my rectum. When she returned, she brought with her another nurse that wore her experience on her face in the form of carelines. She took her time with the IV, which she inserted into a vein in my hand. I was terrified. It takes a lot of my energy to stay calm for shots, labs, and anything that involves needles.

After speaking first with the anesthesiologist, then the GI physician and his nurse, I was wheeled down a long hall and into a large, frigid operating room. There were noisy machines and viewing screens, and people in gowns preparing for me, the guest of honor. Things were already surreal. I didn't know any of these people, but they all knew of me. A nurse put a cannula over my head and placed it into my nose, then had me roll onto my left side. A bite guard was placed in my mouth, a blue silicon thing with a wide open circular hole in the center, then over that an oxygen mask. Every step was described, every action forewarned with spoken word. The anesthesia nurse briefly stroked the top of my head in encouragement. A numbing medicine was mixed into my oxygen so that it would dull the pain of the sedative entering my arm from the IV. My head spun and I registered the distant burning of the sedative as it blazed a path up the highways of my circular system. Before I knew it, I was awake again. Addie sat in the corner of the room, loyally waiting for me two return and wake up. Hers was the first face I saw, and I was so grateful for that. Waking from the sedative was like waking from my sleeping medicine at home: trying to claw my way to consciousness.

I have lots and lots of polyps. There were benign growths in my stomach and large, complicated polyps in my duodenum and small bowel. I will need an additional surgery to remove those. No noticeable signs of cancer, but they sent plenty of samples to pathology just in case.

We went for burgers at a place called the Hollander Cafe (it was fantastic!) in Wauwatosa, then poked around in a lovely little bookshop called The Little Read Book. The rest of the day was spent resting and reading one of the books I picked up for myself. I have a lot to think about. Results of the biopsies and what the implications are. I'm in Limbo again. Part of me knew that having the scopes wouldn't actually give me comfort, but I am glad that I went. The next visit is at the end of August with Dr. Peterson, my colorectal surgeon. We will discuss the journey that will be my colectomy and recovery.

Thank you for your patience and care! I truly appreciate you, my reader, and the support you give me. May you have the best health and beautiful days. You deserve them! Much love!

[clubsmarties]

His eyebrows knitted together almost like he was about to tell her no need. "Hey," he brought up her chin to make her look at him. "I love that you two have a sister bond. I really don't mind you talking to each other forever when you're together. I love you being loved in one of the purest forms of friendship you formed with her. Sure beats Jenny." A callback to the one person who he had such an ire against. Even now. That gained her a smirk and a quick head nod. "Don't I know it. It really doesn't take much to make your knees weak." he kissed her and made a pop sound. These last seven months really had done a number on her and on their sex life. Which he had no complaints about. "True. The place three blocks down from Aaron and Juju is up for sale. Want to see if we can make it work?" With his pay raise he knew that budget wise they'd be more than okay if she wanted to ever move. He'd do everything in his power to make wvery dream of hers come true.

"Shame that you didn't get to post your Cinderella posters. I would have loved to see it." The nickname still made him smile remembering a time where they barely had begun to know each other. A time where he realized she had always been welcomed into his orbit. "Hey, no. That lead me to my future." One hand caressed her cheek as the other played with her hair. "If I didn't go through that then I'd not have met the Phillips nor would I have met you. I can't think of a timeline I'd be okay with not knowing you." A shrug of his shoulders told her he wasn't bothered by it anymore. "Besides, I earned about two hundred dollars a night. That's how I paid for tuition."

He smiled and chuckled softly. "I am inclined to say ditto, baby. I think that's a great idea. He'd love to see you I do guess. Before you can't waddle yourself out there on your own." Eli made a light joke but not meaning any harm. She was one of those happy glowing women who thought creating life was joyful. "Still my favorite memory." It was one of the main reasons they had purple flowers all over their home. "You'd just be sitting pretty directing all of us in the room. Get this, you'd get to boss Isa around. How fun is that?"

"Afraid so. Baby girl Phillips Thorn. Has a nice ring to it. But honestly, none on the list albeit short, is calling out to me. Mila was okay just not her name. Who knew naming a child would be this hard. We could do that. How about Cecilia? As a middle name?" Where he pulled that one from was a mystery but he didn't think it was horrible. No on Anne. Got it. Besides there's only one. We kind of also don't want to jinx our baby girl so early on. I read it in that book you fell asleep with that giving the same exact name to a child gives them the bad jujus."

"We just always have a lot to talk about, sorry babe," she apologized with a sheepish smile on her lips. "But, you know there's a few ways to always get my attention." Listing those items was not necessary, she knew he was well aware. "I am pretty lucky that you and Aaron are getting along, gives me and Juju more time. The boy cave could be fun, but we'd need another room." And, another place.

His amused smirk reminded her so much of her love for his smirk, even in their early days. It always made her just a bit frazzled. But, it was no secret between them. She had been a bit of a stalker, but Laurel had never hidden the interest she had for him. "Two details that led me to you. I was so close to making missing posters of my Cinderella." The nickname she affectionally bestowed upon him after meeting. Their past was full of ups, downs, and lessons in between, but their early days still amused them beyond understanding. Maybe, because they were so young. Though, she withheld the teasing remark about him lying, he still caught on to her. Hm, he knew her so well. Laurel's gaze landed on his eyes while he spoke. She knew talking about his time before the Phillips was not easy. Any time he did share, she listened carefully. "That sounds terrible, I'm really sorry they didn't value you the way they should've." She couldn't help but sigh. The way he was treated growing up upset her each time. Knowing it wasn't possible, but wishing she could've somehow protected him from all of it. "You have so much more to offer than opening bottles. Hm, you were very interesting in my eyes already. For one night? One night was all I needed to be hooked on you anyway."

Watching his eyes crinkle as he laughed made her smile grow, her hand resting on tops of his as he touched her belly. This was happiness, she was certain of it. "Me, complaining? Never. Not a complaint, more so reminiscing," she teased. Laurel hummed completely amused by his enthusiastic yes's comment. Teasing was all she could do these days anyway. "Oh yeah, you heard right that day." Their adventures were always pleasant memories. "We've given each other a lot, but you, without a doubt, changed my life."

"I'll text him, maybe join him for dinner before babygirl arrives." Since he remarried, she hadn't visited super often giving her dad space. "Might be good to see him, get some last-minute parenting tips from him," since she couldn't really ask her mom. A thought she quickly shook from her mind. "I'm so glad the Phillips changed your mind, I'm forever grateful for that." It wasn't lost on her that things might've gone very differently if he had not been open to love. Laurel snuggled closer to his chest, looking at the colors on his phone screen. "I do like the lilac, makes me think of the flowers you'd put in my hair. Oh, and the Care Bear is so cute! You're right about that." Of course he was offering to do it over if she hated it. "No, having to do it over would suck and I don't think I'll be much help. I am leaning lilac, I think."

The topic of names pulled a laugh from her lips. "We're just going to keep calling her babygirl forever, aren't we?" It didn't help that Laurel's list of vetoed names was longer than her list of names she liked. Vetoed names included people she didn't like, some poor barista that had once flirted with him, amongst other names. Some vetoed names had silly reasons, but she couldn't contradict her emotions lately. "We have a small list, but maybe we scrap it and start over? Or maybe we start with a middle name and work backwards? I've heard that helps sometimes. Except Anne, I'm adding that one to our vetoed list." Her own middle name, but she just didn't want to pass that name on.