#now that i think about it he's literally me fr

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #2 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Your life takes a wild turn after discovering what you believe is Seokjin's risqué secret, only for the following nights to leave you doubting your own reality. Was it loneliness and a shattered heart that conjured this delusion? As you try to move on, leaving your assumptions behind, you and Seokjin grow closer—until a late-night slip-up unravels everything... literally. note: it took me almost a month to update i have been busy at work.; i've edited this but there still may be some grammatical errors so apologies in advanced. warnings: roommate!Seokjin being such a green flag, adult content live streaming (camwork), explicit solo masturbation (from jin and also reader POV), voyeurism, descriptive use of toys, dirty talk, reader's emotional turmoil, Seokjin being perceptive and teasing, confrontation, sexual frustration, sexual tension. mild language, some implied sexual fantasizing, jin POV in the last quarter of the chapter drop date: December 20th, 2024, 12:00pm pst word count: 9.6k chapter 1 | chapter 3 crossposted on ao3 here

–

That good sleep that you were anticipating?

Gone.

Were you able to get some sleep last night?

Absolutely not.

Every time you’d close your eyes, all you would see is THAT: Seokjin Kim, sitting in his chair, stroking his cock with slow, deliberate motions, his face caught somewhere between bliss and control while a virtual audience eagerly watched.

Oh god, what the fuck did you get yourself into? 

You can’t just continue living here like you didn’t see that.

Absolutely no way–

“Did you get a good sleep last night?”

The sound of Seokjin’s voice slices through the chaotic mind-fuck cluster of your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. You blink, startled, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to say.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was…nice,” you reply, though your tone is as flat as week-old opened grapefruit Spin Drift you’ve left out on the counter countless times in the past.

Seokjin chuckles, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you a knowing look. “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he remarks before turning back toward the kitchen. You watch him as he grabs a carton of eggs, a frying pan, and other utensils with easy confidence, as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, your head is spinning.

Does he have any idea what you saw? No, of course not. How could he? You clutch your mug of coffee tighter, willing yourself to keep calm and act normal, even though “normal” feels like a foreign concept right now.

Seokjin cracks an egg against the side of the pan with one hand, a skill that feels unnecessarily showy, and tosses the shell in the trash without missing a beat. “So, what’s your plan for today?”

“My plan?” 

“Yeah, you know. Moving in, settling down. Unpacking those boxes.” He gestures with the spatula toward the pile of boxes you had left in the living room yesterday. “Or are you just going to live out of them for the next few months?”

You force out a weak laugh, trying to mask your unease. “I’ll get to them soon. Or well, eventually.”

Seokjin glances at you over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, you sure you’re okay? You seem… distracted.”

Distracted? That’s putting it lightly. You practically choked on your own thoughts all night, trying to process what you’d stumbled upon. Now here he is, looking every bit as composed and charming as ever, completely unaware of how he’s upended your mental state.

“Just a lot on my mind from the shit I’ve been going through,” you say vaguely, hoping he’ll just think about what you’ve previously told him and won’t press further.

“Fair enough,” he replies, flipping the eggs in the pan with a practiced flick of his wrist. “By the way, if you need anything for your room, feel free to let me know. I’ve got some spare furniture in storage if you need extra shelves or whatever.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, staring at your coffee as if it holds the answers to your predicament.

You spend the rest of breakfast in tense silence, with Seokjin humming softly to himself as he cooks. Every so often, you catch yourself stealing a glance at him—his broad shoulders, the black t-shirt that loosely fits his body, his easy movements, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead. And every time, your mind cruelly throws you back to that image from last night.

You barely touch your toast, and when Seokjin finally sets his plate in the sink and announces he’s heading out to work in the office since he has some meetings later this afternoon, you feel a wave of relief so strong it’s almost embarrassing.

As the front door clicks shut behind him, you slump against the counter, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

What are you going to do? How are you supposed to face him every day without your mind going there?

If there’s anything that helps clear your mind, it’s organizing. The chaos of your thoughts seems to calm when you’re sorting, categorizing, and arranging. And thank god you have a lot of that to do right now with all the boxes cluttering your room and spilling into the living room.

Determined to regain some sense of control, you dive into it. First, the essentials—clothing, toiletries, and the work necessities you hope to use again someday. You find a rhythm: open, sort, fold, stack, repeat. The act becomes a form of meditation, letting you focus on the task rather than… other things.

After about two hours, just as you’re folding a stack of sweaters, your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call. Your dear best friend Yunjin’s photo flashes across the screen.

You swipe to answer, her bright, cheerful face filling the screen instantly.

“Hey girl!!” she chirps, holding her phone up at an angle that shows a bustling street lined with shops and people.

“Hey, Yunjin!” you say, unable to hide your grin. “Haven’t seen your beautiful face in awhile. What are you up to?”

“I’m out shopping in Japantown,” she says, spinning her phone around to give you a quick view of colorful storefronts and an adorable bakery. “And I saw this cute Moomin plush keychain. It reminded me of you, so I’m gonna gift it you!”

A Gift?! 

Your eyes widen. “N-No! It’s fine!”

Yunjin’s smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, stop it. I want to. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to go visit you.” Yunjin lives a couple of hours away from you, so you don’t get to see her as often as you used to during college.

Despite her kindness, you feel a pang of guilt. Being unemployed has left you hyperaware of money, and the idea of your friend spending her hard-earned cash on you—without expecting anything in return—feels unbearable. But that’s just how she is. That’s just…Yunny.

“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, even as a part of you knows arguing with her is pointless.

“Too late!” she sing-songs, flipping the camera around to show the tiny Moomin plush with its sweet little face and scarf. “Tell me this isn’t so you.”

It is. It absolutely is.

You sigh, shaking your head but unable to keep from smiling. “Okay, fine. But at least let me treat you to a coffee.”

“Deal,” Yunjin says with a wink before turning the camera back to her. “So, how’s it going with your new place? Settling in okay?”

Your mind flashes to Seokjin, to the events of last night, and you swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. It’s… nice. Just getting things sorted.”

Yunjin squints at the screen, her expression turning suspicious. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

Should you tell her? Absolutely not. She’d think the whole situation was bizarre—and worse, she’d probably call you weird for sticking around to watch him do that. You quickly decide to change the topic.

“Yunny, is there really no way I can stay with you for a bit of time?” you groan, leaning against the pile of clothes you’d been folding.

Yunjin’s brow furrows. “Oh, why? You don’t like your new place?”

“It’s… fine,” you hedge, glancing toward your door as if Jin might somehow overhear. “I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to have you around again like old times.”

The truth is, you don’t want to leave this city. It’s the only place where the kind of opportunities you’re looking for exist. And besides, you love it here—the energy, the atmosphere, the food scene. Nothing else in or out of state even comes close.

But if moving meant getting away from the strange situation you’ve landed yourself in, maybe you’d consider it.

“Uh, well, sadly, no,” Yunjin says with a slight pout. “I thought one of my housemates was moving out to live with her boyfriend, but it looks like that was all talk. She’s staying put for now. They probably wouldn’t be okay with temporary couch surfing either.”

That makes sense.

“Oh,” you reply, deflated. “Okay.”

“Hmm.” Yunjin narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but thankfully, she doesn’t press further. “Well, I can’t wait to see your new place. We’ll do a housewarming soon, okay?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you say, nodding along, though the thought of hosting a gathering here makes your stomach twist. How exactly would you explain Seokjin’s... side hustle to anyone if they happened to find out?

“Alright, I’ve gotta go,” Yunjin says, the bustling noise behind her growing louder. “I’m supposed to get lunch with Hanni and Stephen. Love you!”

“Love you too,” you reply, waving at the screen before the call ends.

You set your phone down, a mix of warmth and guilt settling over you. It’s comforting to know Yunjin has your back, but it also serves as a painful reminder of how far you’ve fallen. No job, no stability, and now living with a guy who… well.

You shake your head, refusing to let yourself spiral. There’s too much to do, too many boxes to unpack. For now, you focus on the small wins—folding clothes, sorting books, reclaiming a sense of order.

One step at a time.

You throw yourself into unpacking and organizing, letting the steady rhythm of your tasks distract you from your swirling thoughts. The hours slip by as you arrange books on shelves, hang up clothes, and shuffle boxes around to make the room feel less like a storage unit and more like a home.

By the time the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, you’ve made solid progress. Your room is starting to look presentable—cozy, even. The hum of activity keeps your mind occupied, though every now and then, stray thoughts about last night sneak in.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolts you out of your reverie. A moment later, Seokjin walks in, dressed in business attire, his tie slightly loosened and his hair tousled in that effortlessly charming way that makes it clear why his stream fans are obsessed with him.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as he sets his bag on the counter. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” you reply, wiping your dust-covered hands on your jeans. “Got most of my stuff sorted out.”

He glances toward your room and nods approvingly. “Nice. Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d get it all done before it starts to feel like a chore.”

Seokjin chuckles as he loosens his tie completely and drapes it over a chair. “Smart move. I should probably take a page out of your book. My closet’s a disaster zone right now.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the messy type.”

He shrugs, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s organized chaos. I know where everything is… mostly.”

You laugh softly, some of the tension you’d been holding onto easing as the conversation flows naturally. For the first time since last night, you don’t feel quite so on edge around him.

“Anyway,” he says, taking a sip of water and leaning against the counter, “I’m gonna change out of this and make something for dinner. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, realizing you hadn’t eaten much while caught up in organizing.

“Cool. Give me like ten minutes,” he says with a grin, already heading toward his room.

As he disappears down the hallway, you let out another breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s going to take some time to feel normal here, but for now, small moments like this help.

Back to one step at a time.

Yes… one step at a time.

Jin reappears in casual clothes—sweatpants and a loose tee that somehow still manages to look good on him—and heads straight to the kitchen. You sit on the couch, doomscrolling on social media to consume random content to keep you busy in the meantime.

The comforting sound of clattering pots and pans fills the apartment, accompanied by the savory aroma of something delicious in the making.

When he calls out, “Hope you like pasta carbonara,” you can’t help but feel grateful he’s even making you food. 

He doesn’t have to do this, but it’s nice that he is.

He sets the steaming pan on top of a hot pad on the table, followed by two plates, forks, and a sprinkle of grated cheese in a small dish. “Voilà. Gourmet dining at its finest.”

This actually looks like high quality italian restaurant quality presentation.

You take a seat, eyeing the dish appreciatively. “Woah? Fancy. Do you cook like this all the time?”

He grins as he spoons a generous serving onto your plate. “Not always. I have a rotation: this, ramen, steak, kimchi jjigae, and… takeout. Lots of takeout.”

You laugh, grabbing your fork. “Sounds somewhat balanced.”

“I try to keep it balanced but,” he agrees, twirling pasta onto his fork. “I also work out a bit too.”

“Nice,” 

In your mind, you’re thinking “yeah, you’ve seen him workout alright”

This is really going to eat at you at this rate.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the rich, creamy flavors of the pasta doing wonders for your mood. It feels surreal to be sitting here, sharing a meal with someone who, just days ago, you were convinced would be a terrible roommate.

The meal is delicious, better than you’d expected. For a while, you let yourself get lost in the comforting simplicity of eating—pasta twirling on your fork, the sauce aroma wafting up, the occasional clink of silverware against plates.

It feels… normal. Nice, even. But still, at the back of your mind, there’s a quiet storm brewing.

The night before keeps replaying in your head, uninvited and intrusive, like a broken record you can’t turn off. You glance at Seokjin as he eats, his features relaxed, his posture casual. How can he seem so normal when you know what he was doing less than 24 hours ago?

The mental tug-of-war begins: Should you just ignore it? Pretend it never happened? Or—

“So,” you blurt, interrupting your own thoughts, “what exactly do you do for work?”

Jin looks up, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “I work in marketing,” he says, reaching for his water.

You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Marketing for…?”

He grins, sensing your peaked interest. “Riot Games. You know, the League of Legends company?”

Your eyes widen. “No way! What! That’s so cool.”

That’s actually a pretty awesome career.

And so Seokjin of him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. A lot of campaigns and community engagement stuff. It keeps me busy, but I like it. Games have always been my thing.”

That part doesn’t surprise you. Growing up, Jin was always glued to his Game Boy, computer or chattering about his latest high scores. This career seems like a natural fit for him.

“Of course, I remember that well,” you say, smiling. “Also explains the gaming setup.”

“The gaming setup?” Jin freezes for a fraction of a second, his fork hovering mid-air. His expression shifts from casual to guarded so quickly you almost miss it.

Shit.

You scramble to backtrack. “Uh, I just mean… you seem like the type to have a cool gaming setup, you know? Dual monitors, fancy keyboard, maybe some LED lights?”

His shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes remain sharp, watching you closely. “Haven’t shown you my room yet. How’d you know?”

“I didn’t,” you reply quickly, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a guess. I mean, come on, you work at Riot Games. Wouldn’t you have the gear to match?”

Jin tilts his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips before he leans back in his chair. “Actually,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, “I’ve been a bit shy to mention this, but… I’m also a Twitch streamer.”

You already knew this from prior snooping, so you gotta act surprised.

Your fork pauses mid-air. “Woah? You are?”

He nods, a little sheepish now, which is a rare look for him. “Yeah. My old roommate actually got me into it awhile back. It started as a way to unwind after work, but then it kinda… took off. Nothing crazy, but it’s been fun.”

You don’t think that 200,000 followers is something to not be impressed about. That is a decently big audience for someone who hasn’t been doing it for too long.

That sparks your curiosity. “Really? What do you stream?”

“Well, gaming mainly as you saw,” he says, shrugging. “Some League, Valorant… a bit of variety stuff when I feel like it. My audience isn’t huge, but it’s a solid little community to talk with.”

Audience, right.

Your mind flashes back to last night—the setup, the webcam, the comments streaming on the screen—and your stomach tightens. He wanted to hide this from you but still has more to uncover, but he’s so good at hiding it. Well, at least until you caught him yesterday.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you ask, “Isn’t it hard to balance with your job?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Not really. Most of my streams are at night, after work. I mean, I’m already up, so I might as well do something productive, right?”

Productive, you think, the word ricocheting in your head. If only he knew…

“That’s… really cool,” you manage, keeping your tone even. “Do you think you’ll ever go full-time with it?”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. I like streaming, but I don’t think I’d give up my day job for it. It’s more of a side hustle, you know? Keeps me busy and entertained.”

“Right,” you say, nodding. “That makes sense.”

“I’ll have to show it to you some time. Maybe even let you try the setup if you’re into games.”

Oh?

“Sure,” you say, nodding too eagerly. “That sounds fun. Though I’ve always been a Nintendo girl,”

“I do recall, and that’s fine by me. We could play Mario Kart!”

“That sounds like a lot of fun, Jin—”

The word slips out naturally, before you even realize it. You freeze mid-sentence, your lips parting as the familiar nickname hangs awkwardly in the air. You haven’t called him “Jin” since elementary school. It used to roll off your tongue back when you were kids, when he was just a goofy classmate you exchanged Pokémon cards with and competed against in dodgeball. But ever since reconnecting as adults, you’ve made a conscious effort to just refer to him by his full name, Seokjin. It felt more appropriate. More… grown-up.

And it created a boundary, which now feels undone by you calling him more casually. Curse you getting more comfortable with this man! His eyes widen slightly at the sound of it, his smile faltering for only a split second before softening into something warmer. “Jin, huh?” he muses, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t heard you call me that in years.”

You swallow, cheeks warming as you try to play it off casually. “Oh. Uh, sorry— I just—”

“You just what?” he teases gently, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

You groan, covering your face for a brief moment. “It just slipped out, okay? Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Hmm.” His voice hums with amusement, and when you peek at him through your fingers, he’s looking at you with a fond expression that makes your stomach flip. “I don’t mind it, you know. Kinda like it, actually.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah,” he says simply, shrugging. “It’s nostalgic.”

There’s a pause as the two of you exchange a quiet glance, something unspoken settling in the air between you. For a moment, you swear his gaze lingers on you just a little too long.

“Well,” you mutter, trying to brush off the sudden tension. “If you don’t mind it, I guess I’ll start calling you Jin again.”

His smile widens into something bright and genuine, then chuckles. “Good! Doesn’t feel too weird anyways since my Twitch chat calls me Jin as well.”

And you were flustered over this for nothing.

The conversation moves on, but every time you say “Jin”, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place. You ignore it though, as his dirty secret continues to gnaw at your mind more than whatever he must be thinking.

Glancing at him as he finishes his pasta, a soft hum escaping him as he collects the plates.

You retreat to your room, bidding Jin a casual goodnight as he mentions his plans for the evening. “Gonna play some Elden Ring with my friends, and then stream a Pokémon randomized Nuzlocke at nine,” he says, grinning. “If you hear me yelling at any ungodly hour, just know it’s the RNG gods being cruel.”

“Good to know,” you reply with a small laugh before closing your door behind you.

Settling onto your bed, you decide to distract yourself with something immersive—Bakemonogatari. It’s been on your list for a long time, and felt like now would be a good time to watch it. The anime’s intricate dialogue and surreal visuals immediately pull you in, though it’s hard to focus completely with lingering thoughts of Jin playing games only a few walls away.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on the screen. As the narrative deepens and the subtitles demand your full attention, your eyelids grow heavier. Soon, the soft glow of the laptop screen and the soothing cadence of the voice acting lull you into a deep sleep.

A good sleep.

The kind of sleep you’ve been craving after a long day of cleaning, unpacking, and organizing—a chance to reset and settle fully into this new chapter of your life.

Until a familiar sensation stirs you awake.

You blink blearily at the clock on your nightstand.

2:35 a.m.

Déjà vu hits you like a freight train. The thirst pulls you out of bed, an undeniable urge. With a groggy sigh, you shuffle out of your room and make your way to the kitchen.

The dim light from the hallway guides you as you grab a water bottle from under the sink. The cool plastic feels grounding in your hand as you twist the cap open and take a long, satisfying sip.

Refreshed, you glance around. It’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft whir of your thoughts.

And then your gaze instinctively drifts toward Jin’s room again.

Not for the wrong reasons! you tell yourself defensively. It’s just… you’re checking on him. Making sure he’s okay!

Right?

Your bare feet make the softest pats against the floor as you tiptoe a little closer to the hallway leading to Jin’s room. Sure enough, a familiar sliver of light leaks from the partially ajar door.

But something’s different this time.

You squint, leaning just enough to peek in.

There he is.

Seokjin sits cross-legged at his desk, headphones on, illuminated by the glow of his monitors. But instead of his usual casual attire or the polished look he had earlier, he’s wearing a pajama set. A blue pajama set covered in cartoon characters. The sight of him in something so unexpectedly cute throws you for a loop.

On the screen, the familiar pixelated world of Pokémon sprawls before him.

“Okay guys, I should end the live here,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying through the quiet apartment. “But I’m almost at the Elite Four! This team I have right now is pretty solid, even if we lost Moon the Lunatone. I’ll get through the rival battle and stop there.”

Your jaw slackens.

Wait, what?

Where’s the camwork? The NSFW content? The explicit… everything you’d stumbled upon last night?

Confusion swirls in your chest as you scurry back to your room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. You lean against it, clutching the water bottle in both hands as your mind races.

What is going on here?

Had you… imagined it? No, that couldn’t be right. The vivid image of last night flashes through your mind unbidden, heat creeping up your neck as you recall every mortifying detail.

But now? He’s just streaming a Pokémon Nuzlocke like a completely normal, wholesome gamer.

Maybe you dreamed it…?

You sit on the edge of your bed, clutching the water bottle as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

Maybe you were just seeing things last night.

The thought plants itself firmly in your mind, and as much as you try to swat it away, it lingers. You were exhausted yesterday. Between moving, unpacking, and the emotional whirlwind of losing your job and your relationship, maybe your mind just… played tricks on you.

Yeah, that must be it.

There’s no way you actually saw Jin doing that.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m losing it,” you mutter under your breath.

Still, the memory feels so vivid. The faint glow of his screen, his movements, the soft noises—ugh, stop it! You shake your head, desperate to push the images out of your mind.

But the scene you just witnessed tonight couldn’t be more different. Jin was just… Jin. Cute pajama set, gaming setup, and an audience of what you assume were adoring fans cheering him on as he streamed his Pokémon playthrough.

Totally innocent.

Totally normal.

You flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your chest tightens as you try to rationalize it all. Maybe the stress and lack of sleep made your brain concoct some wild scenario. After all, you’re in a new place with a guy you haven’t seen since childhood. Maybe it’s just your subconscious working overtime as you’re lacking physical touch.

That has to be it, you convince yourself, pulling the blanket over your face.

And that’s exactly what you’ve convinced yourself to think.

Over two weeks have passed, and from the few times you’ve stumbled out of bed late at night, you haven’t encountered anything remotely similar to what you thought you saw on your first night here.

It became easier and easier to believe you hallucinated the whole thing.

Stress does crazy things to people, you told yourself. You just need to focus on your life.

Still, the faint embarrassment lingers every now and then, but it’s manageable. After all, you’ve been busy with moving-in activities, refining your resume, and applying to jobs. Productivity has been your savior, keeping your mind occupied and away from thoughts of intimacy—something that feels uncomfortable ever since your last relationship ended in betrayal.

Order seems to have been restored.

Conversations with Seokjin (who you now refer to as Jin) have become more natural, the initial awkwardness dissipating as you become more comfortable with one another and you’ve settled into a rhythm. You respect each other’s spaces, and despite the occasional childish banter, the dynamic is easy, like good old friends reconnecting.

You’ve gone shopping together for groceries, evening outings to eat at a sit-in restaurant or even just go for a drive or walk to destress, which usually ends in getting ice cream or bubble tea.

It’s oddly casual, but you don’t mind that. This is how things should be now that you’re both adults.

It’s a Thursday at noon when you hear the doorbell and find a large package waiting for Jin. 

[You: Hey, there's a big package addressed to you at the door? Where should I put it?]

After texting him to ask where to leave it, he eventually responds:

[Jin: Ah, thanks for letting me know. I was waiting on that to come in. Jin:Just put it in my room if you don’t mind!]

[You: Okay!]

And with that, you pick up the box and head toward his room.

It occurs to you as you step inside that this is your first time actually entering his space.

Jin’s room is, unsurprisingly, immaculate—spacious, well-organized, and undeniably him. The decor is a cute mix of his personality: shelves filled with gaming figures, an impressive collection of games, and stuffed animals of his favorite creatures scattered across the bed. There’s even a small shrine to Mario and Kirby in the corner that makes you grin.

You place the package on his bed as instructed and turn to leave, but something catches your eye.

His monitor.

The screen is still on, displaying a cluttered web browser with more tabs open than anyone should realistically have. You almost laugh at the chaos of it—thirty, maybe forty tabs?

But then your gaze lands on one in particular.

A small icon. A name.

Chaturbate.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh. My. God.

It’s like the carefully constructed world of denial you’ve built over the past week shatters in an instant.

No way. No, no, no, this can’t be?!

Your feet feel glued to the floor as your mind races. This can’t be real. Why would Jin have that open? Wasn’t it just a mistake that night? A fluke? A hallucination?!

And yet, here it is. Right in front of you.

Your stomach flips as hell’s gates open again, memories from that night rushing back in vivid detail.

Curiosity claws at you, relentless and insistent. You know you shouldn’t, but the urge to know is overwhelming. If it really is what you think it is… then maybe, just maybe, you can confirm it and put this strange, lingering mystery to rest.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you step closer to the desk. The glow of the screen feels accusatory, like a spotlight shining on your guilt. This is so wrong, you think, but your hand still moves.

You nudge the mouse, waking the monitor from its idle dimness.

The browser window expands to full brightness, revealing the countless tabs more clearly now. You spot the one labeled Chaturbate. Your fingers hover over the mouse, trembling slightly, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you click.

The page loads immediately.

And there it is.

The profile is still open, though it’s not broadcasting live. A banner at the top reads: "Offline – Streams Scheduled 3x a month. Next stream: Tonight at 1:30AM."

The alias catches your eye immediately, bold and unmistakable at the top of the page: "BigTunaManXOXO"

Big Tuna Man?

You have to chuckle, though the sound feels unnatural in the stillness of the room. Well, he did mention he likes tuna when you two had sushi two days ago. You shake your head in disbelief at how absurd the situation is.

Scrolling a little more, your heart races as the tags and content descriptions appear on the screen. Tags like casual play, NSFW, punishment, and even interactive fill the list, confirming everything you feared—and hoped—was true.

What did you expect? you think, eyes scanning the content. His previous streams, unlocked for paid viewers, show glimpses of what you had seen—shirtless moments, fan interactions, and those subtle teases. Some comments from regular viewers flash on the screen: "You’re so cute, Big Tuna. Gonna get your next stream tonight?"

A pit forms in your stomach as you scroll further, seeing the balance of gaming content mixed with something... different. There are a few VODs, some marked with glowing red icons and some tagged with things like solo play, toys, edging and private sessions. Your breath catches in your throat as you click on one of the unlocked streams. It starts to load, and before you can stop yourself, you’re staring at a past broadcast.

Seokjin.

In a black Alo Yoga hoodie and 5” inseam black shorts. The camera angle is different now, the lighting softer, more intimate. His voice comes through clearly, playful, teasing. You watch as he interacts with the chat, joking around with his viewers, and then... he moves the camera just enough that you can see the lower half of his face for a moment—barely anything though, but enough to confirm it’s him to you, who has been seeing him every day since you moved in with him.

His usual smile is replaced by something softer, more relaxed, more... flirty.

And then, there it is.

The content, the movement—just like you saw that first night. The subtle, slow gestures that make everything come rushing back, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

You harshly click the tab shut, returning to the previous tab it once was. Quickly, you leave Jin’s room, making sure not to disturb anything else. The echo of the laptop snapping shut still rings in your ears, and your hands are trembling slightly as you step back into the hallway.

You hope it doesn’t look like you lingered too long. The last thing you need is for him to know you were snooping around, even accidentally. You slip back into your own room, shutting the door behind you, and lean against it, exhaling shakily.

This is too much.

You now have undeniable proof. Solid, irrefutable evidence that the man you’re living with, sharing meals with, and chatting about Pokémon and pasta with... is a cam boy. A cam boy doing porn and who’s managed to keep this side hustle hidden under layers of casual charm and everyday normalcy.

It’s not the fact that he does that kind of work that bothers you, not at all. If anything, it’s more… personal than that… The memory of what you saw—his expressions, his movements—lingers in your mind like an unshakable phantom, making your body feel uncomfortably warm and restless. You sink onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as if that will somehow erase the imagery burned into your brain.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

But curiosity—it’s a relentless beast. The harder you try to shove it down, the more insistent it becomes. Questions start to pile up, each one more intrusive than the last.

Does anyone recognize him? Do his fans know?

You grab your phone, desperate for answers, and open Reddit. If there’s one place on the internet where secrets can’t stay buried, it’s here. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you type: Gamer Jin and BigTunaManXOXO Reddit.

The search yields only two results. Two. A drop in the ocean of online gossip and speculation, yet still enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You tap the first thread: “Jin and BigTunaManXOXO: Double Life?”

The original poster’s comment pulls you in instantly:

“Okay, is it just me, or doesn’t he sound like this cam boy BigTunaManXOXO? Literally has the same voice, same mannerisms... someone tell me I’m not crazy.”

The replies are a mix of disbelief, humor, and outright denial. Some users dismiss the theory as absurd, calling it disrespectful to Jin. Others joke about the sheer randomness of the comparison, adding memes and GIFs for good measure.

But a small minority entertains the possibility.

“I mean… I’ve seen his streams. The way he laughs does sound kinda similar…”

“I don’t think it’s him, but if it were, that would be WILD.”

One reply makes your stomach churn:

“Not saying it’s him, but I subscribed to BigTunaManXOXO just to fantasize about him being Jin. No regrets.”

You stare at the screen, your mind spinning. The majority of commenters don’t believe the theory, dismissing it as pure coincidence. But they have no idea how close they are to the truth.

And now, neither can you unsee it.

Seokjin arrived home that evening with a bright smile and the unmistakable aroma of takeout wafting through the apartment. The bags he carried crinkled as he shifted them in his arms, his voice ringing out cheerfully, “Guess what I got? Bao buns! And a few other things, but mostly the bao buns—because I remembered you mentioned them earlier this week.”

You hear a knock at your door a moment later, and you pause, nerves prickling under your skin. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before opening it. Seokjin stands there, still dressed in his work clothes but with his usual easygoing grin.

“Dinner’s here. Come eat,” he says, gesturing toward the living room with the bags.

You nod, smiling back, though it feels a little forced. “Thanks, Jin. That’s really thoughtful of you.”

His sharp eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and you know he’s caught the slight edge in your tone, the nervous way you’re holding the door. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression shifts—subtle, curious. He doesn’t push, though; that’s not his style.

Instead, he leans back casually and adds, “I figured we could eat and watch something. Maybe an old favorite of yours?” He raises a brow, the corners of his lips tugging upward knowingly. “Bleach? I noticed you have some merch on your bookshelf.”

Your heart skips a beat, both from the thoughtful gesture and the fact that Seokjin’s perceptiveness always seems to catch you off guard. Does he see right through me? Does he know what I found?

“Bleach sounds good,” you say quickly, hoping to steady yourself. “Let me just grab something, and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Cool,” he says, his voice calm but tinged with something else—maybe a touch of inquisition. He walks off toward the kitchen, leaving you alone for a moment.

You close the door softly, leaning your head against it. Why does he have to be so…—you search for the right word—attentive? It’s like he has a radar for when something’s wrong. And now, dinner and your childhood favorite anime feel like a test of your ability to act normal.

A few minutes later, you join him in the living room. The coffee table is already set with the takeout containers: bao buns, lo mein, orange chicken, and fried rice. Jin is on the couch, flipping through streaming options until he lands on Bleach. He looks up and pats the cushion next to him.

“Sit. I already started the episode where Ichigo reunites with Rukia and the other Gotei 13 soul reapers. Start of my favorite arcs.”

You sit, the warm scent of the food making your stomach growl despite the anxious knot twisting inside you. Seokjin slides a plate toward you, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—eating, watching, occasionally commenting on the nostalgia of the show.

But the tension lingers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at you between bites, as if trying to figure out what’s on your mind. And you wonder just how long it will take before his curiosity outweighs his patience.

As you both finish up the episode of Bleach, Seokjin turns to you, his gaze warm yet inquisitive. “So, how was your day?”

You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts. 

What to say? What did you do today before your world got flipped upside down… Oh right… the job interview. “Busy,” you say with a small laugh. “I had a second interview earlier for a job.”

His eyebrows lift, impressed. “Oh? What’s the role?”

“It’s for a coordinator position at a small fashion house,” you explain. “It went… great, actually. But I don’t think I’ll get it though.”

Jin frowns, leaning slightly closer. “Why not? You just said it went great.”

You shrug, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling, I guess. Fashion’s cutthroat, you know? The people in that industry are quick to judge if you don’t fit the vibe they’re looking for. You can have all the skills, a good background, everything—but it’s still not enough sometimes. I don’t think I got what they want.”

He watches you for a moment, then sets down his plate and reaches across the table. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You are good enough. I know it’s hard not to overthink, but you have to believe that you bring something special to the table.”

Your chest tightens at his words, the sincerity in his tone. His thumb brushes your knuckles gently, and that nervous feeling blooms again, tugging at the edges of your thoughts. There’s something so familiar about this—like nostalgia wrapped in uncertainty. It’s comforting, but it scares you all the same.

You blink, pulling your hand back as casually as you can without it seeming abrupt. “Thanks, Jin,” you say, your voice tight. “I… I should probably get ready for this international networking seminar I have. It’s later tonight so I’ll be up for awhile.”

He tilts his head slightly, concern flickering in his expression, but he doesn’t press. “Right. Well, good luck with it. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Right back ‘atcha,” you reply quickly, standing up. You gather the disposable utensils and plates in a hurry, tossing them into the trash before he can say anything else.

Seokjin stays seated on the couch, his gaze lingering on you as you retreat to your room. The moment you close the door behind you, you exhale sharply, pressing your back against it.

Why does he have to be like this? So supportive, so perceptive, so… kind?

This is not the Seokjin you imagined when you decided to move in here!

You shake your head, trying to refocus your thoughts. You have work to do. The seminar is important, and you need to be prepared. But even as you sit down at your desk and open your laptop, you can’t shake the image of Jin’s hand on yours or the soft encouragement in his voice.

It’s almost enough to make you forget what you saw earlier today. Almost.

Would it do you any good to force yourself to forget? Pretend that the tab you saw was just a fleeting mistake, an inconsequential moment in time?

Or would it be better to confront this unsettling curiosity head-on? Maybe, if you understood more about his “side hobby,” you could find a way to desensitize yourself. Make it less of a big deal. Normalize it in your head.

The thought gnaws at you until you’re lying in bed at 1:28 a.m., the glow of your laptop casting a dim light across your room. You’re wearing your old blue track shorts and a faded YMCA T-shirt, the kind of comfort wear you don’t expect anyone to see you in. You thought the seminar would last longer, but with some guest speaker changes, it ended right at 1am.

So now you’re doing this.

The chat on the pending livestream is already alive—rows of messages racing up the screen, eager fans buzzing in anticipation of “BigTunaMan’s” arrival.

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

You glance at the clock again. One minute to go.

Then, he appears.

The camera flicks on, revealing Seokjin—or BigTunaMan, as his audience knows him—seated in his chair, the warm glow of soft lighting the only facially visible part of him: his lower half of his face and the subtle curve of his smirk. He’s wearing a loose tank top, the kind that clings just enough to hint at the lines of his shoulders and chest, paired with pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. His demeanor is relaxed, confident, and undeniably captivating.

“Hey there, my army of lovers,” he greets, his voice lower, smoother, each word deliberately stretched out as if he’s tasting them. The chat floods instantly with messages, adoration pouring in from every corner of his audience.

“BigTunaMan, looking gorgeous as always!”

“Omg, talk slower, I can’t handle it.”

“Take all my money, please.”

Jin leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he reads through the comments. “You’ve all been so patient tonight,” he purrs. “So how about I spoil you a little?”

He picks up a small bowl of strawberries from beside him, holding it up for the camera. The way his fingers brush over the fruit feels intentional, sensual, as though he’s fully aware of the effect he has on the people watching.

“Let’s start simple,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the chat, teasing. “A little ASMR snack to set the mood. And of course, I’ll be saying your names—if you’ve earned it.”

The screen lights up with donations almost instantly, usernames accompanied by desperate messages and heart emojis.

He picks a strawberry from the bowl, holding it delicately between his fingers, and bites into it slowly. The sound is soft but amplified, deliberate, and his eyes never leave the camera. He chews thoughtfully, his tongue darting out briefly to catch a stray bit of juice.

“Thank you, PurpleHeart94,” he whispers, his voice silky and intimate. “You’re so generous tonight, baby.” He takes another bite, his gaze steady and smoldering. “And you, HentaiPrincess420—what a sweet name. Thank you for spoiling me when I should be doing that to you.”

Shit… He’s so smooth.

The chat goes wild, messages pouring in faster than you can keep track of them.

He takes his time, naming off more donors, each one met with a sultry thank-you, his tone dripping with playful affection. By the time the strawberries are gone, the tension in the air feels palpable, even through the screen.

Jin leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he speaks. “Now that we’re warmed up,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “how about we move on to something… a little more sexy?”

Your breath catches.

“The touching session,” he says simply, his hand trailing down his chest slowly, almost lazily. The camera angle shifts slightly, framing him in a way that feels more intimate, inviting, as if he’s closing the distance between himself and his audience.

You’re not sure whether you should close the laptop or keep watching, but your fingers remain frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

The chat explodes:

“YES, PLEASE!”

“Touch me instead!”

“PICK ME CHOOSE ME BigTunaMan!”

Jin chuckles, the sound low and resonant. “Patience,” he chides softly. “We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

The camera zooms in slightly, drawing your focus to the deliberate, almost hypnotic movements of Jin’s hands as they trail over his skin. His voice, smooth and sultry, seeps into your ears like honey, wrapping around your thoughts and making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“Do you like this?” he murmurs, his tone so intimate it feels like he’s speaking directly to you. “Tell me how much you want it.”

The chat erupts in eager replies, but they’re a distant hum compared to the pounding of your heart. You can’t look away.

Though he keeps his face just out of view, it’s his voice that captures you, that low, velvety timbre punctuated by soft, breathy moans. They’re unintentional, almost reluctant, but they strike something deep within you.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, as your eyes remain glued to the screen. The way his hands move—slow, teasing, purposeful—sends heat coursing through your body. Every movement is a study in precision, a dance of tension and release that makes your breath hitch.

You feel your body responding in ways you didn’t expect. Warmth pools low in your belly, and your thighs press together instinctively. Your fingers hover near the trackpad, ready to click away but unable to follow through.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?” he continues, his voice breaking into a soft groan that sends a shiver down your spine. Why is this actually feeling…good. You can’t stop yourself from imagining those hands on you, guiding you, making you forget everything—your ex, the breakup, the shitty job market, the confusion of the past weeks.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over you. Your fingers inch lower, hesitating, as you let yourself get lost in the moment. You’re not thinking about the consequences, about what this means. You’re thinking about him—his hands, his voice, the heat building inside you.

The guilt simmers beneath the surface, but it’s drowned out by the relentless pull of desire. The screen lights up your room, but it’s his voice and movements that light you up inside. You barely notice the chat anymore; it’s just you and him in this moment, an unspoken connection through the glow of the laptop.

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as your hand moves on its own accord, slipping under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes again, imagining his hands instead of your own, his voice murmuring your name instead of the ones flooding the chat. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, you let yourself feel without holding back.

In this moment, nothing else matters. Fuck the breakup you had with Mingi. Fuck the stress of job searching. Fuck the awkwardness of living with him. And most importantly, fuck the consequences of watching this. It’s just him, the way he makes you feel, and the heat that consumes you completely.

Your breath hitches as your hands wander further, slipping under your shirt to tease at your nipples, fingers rolling and pinching lightly. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, but it’s not enough—not compared to what you’re watching on the screen.

Not like Jin’s movements at all.

Jin’s hands move with expert precision against his dick, his body shifting slightly as he leans into the motions. His moans, soft yet intentional, echo in your ears, spurring your own need higher. You slide your shorts down your hips, the cool air kissing your skin as they drop to the floor.

Your fingers dip lower, grazing over the slick heat pooling between your thighs. It’s good, but not nearly enough. You want more. You need more.

With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself away from the bed, heart pounding as you open the drawer of your nightstand. Your fingers quickly locate the toy nestled among your folded underwear. It’s a guilty secret you’ve kept for moments like this, though none of those moments have ever felt as charged as this one.

You crawl back onto the bed, the glow of the screen casting shadows over your skin. Jin’s voice fills the room, low and enticing, as he murmurs, “You want me to keep going? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at his words, your hand trembling slightly as you press the toy against yourself. The first vibration jolts through you, a gasp escaping your lips as your body arches into the sensation.

On the screen, Jin leans back slightly, his voice dipping even lower. “Just relax,” he says, as though he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Let me make you feel good.”

You follow his lead, letting the toy work against you as your free hand resumes teasing your chest. The pleasure builds steadily, your movements syncing with his as if he’s guiding you through the screen.

Every sound he makes, every deliberate motion, heightens the sensation coursing through you. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a soft moan slips out despite your efforts. The rhythm of the toy against you matches the cadence of his voice, and it feels as though he’s right there, coaxing you to the edge. You feel yourself almost reaching your orgasm.

But then…

The darkness in the room is lit by the various colored lights and monitor screens as Jin’s chest rises and falls. He begins to slows his movements on his cock, his fingers curling reflexively against his skin. For a brief, unguarded moment, his mind conjures your image—your laughter from earlier at dinner, the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt when he reached out to reassure you.

Woah, what.

Why am I thinking about her right now?

The thought crashes into him like a freight train, shattering his carefully constructed cam-boy persona. His rhythm falters, and as he shifts back abruptly, his elbow knocks into the small Mario figure perched on the edge of his desk.

The figure wobbles, teeters, and then tumbles, the plastic base snapping cleanly off as it hits the hardwood floor.

“Shit!” Jin hisses, his hands flying up to stop the disaster that’s already occurred.

He quickly reaches for the webcam, clicking off the feed and muttering a quick excuse to his audience. “Hey guys, I’ll be right back. Technical issue. Don’t go anywhere.”

The chat floods with reactions—some disappointed, others supportive—but Jin pays them no mind. He gets himself covered up, with his focus no on the broken Mario figure in his hands.

He turns it over, the damage glaringly obvious. It’s just a silly little figurine to anyone else, but to Jin, it’s so much more. You’d given it to him during a Secret Santa exchange in elementary school. It was back when you were both just kids, long before life got complicated and your paths diverged.

He’d kept it all these years, quietly treasuring the memory of that moment, even if you probably didn’t remember.

“Damn it…” he mutters under his breath. He needs super glue—immediately.

The thought strikes him like lightning: you bought super glue just the other day to fix a keychain. You even mentioned it offhand while you were unloading groceries together.

You must have it in your room.

Without hesitation, Jin stands, his mind racing with urgency. You’d said you’d be up late for some seminar, so you’re probably awake. There’s no time to text or knock; he can just explain in person. You’re a few steps away anyway.

He pushes your door open, stepping inside in a rush, only for the world to come screeching to a halt.

His eyes widen as they land on you—sprawled on your bed, your shirt rucked up to expose bare breasts and heat, your shorts kicked off and forgotten. The unmistakable hum of a vibrator fills the air, the glow of your laptop illuminating your flushed face.

Holy shit, he just caught his new roommate and childhood rival… friend? masterbating.

Your hand freezes mid-motion as you look at him, your expression a mixture of shock and mortification.

For a moment, neither of you moves.

“I—” Jin stammers, his voice catching in his throat. His gaze darts away, his face heating up so fast it feels like it might combust. “I—oh my god—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Your own voice fails you, a strangled moaning sound escaping your lips as you scramble to pull the blanket over yourself, fumbling in a panic.

“W-What the hell, Jin!” you manage to croak, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

“I needed super glue!” he blurts out, clutching the broken Mario figure in his hands like it’s the most important thing in the world. “For this! It’s broken, and I—”

“This couldn’t wait?!” you snap, the mortification only growing as his words fully sink in.

Jin takes a step back, clearly flustered. “I didn’t think—! I mean, I thought you were—”

He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes darting to your laptop screen. His breath catches as the realization washes over him.

That’s my stream.

For a moment, the room is suffocatingly silent, his wide-eyed gaze flicking between you and the unmistakable paused screen of his cam boy persona on your laptop. You're watching me? The thought echoes in his mind, equal parts flattered and horrified.

Jin had sensed something was off earlier in the evening, even before all of this unfolded. After dinner, when he’d returned to his room, he’d noticed the Chaturbate tab—closed.

That was odd.

He distinctly remembered leaving it open before leaving for work this morning. He’d scheduled some exclusive content for his next stream and had moved the tab to a less conspicuous window. He figured maybe he’d closed it in a rush and forgotten.

But now, as he stood here, watching your flushed face buried in your hands, it started clicking into place.

Your awkward behavior during dinner—the way you fumbled through your answers, the slight tension in your laugh. He’d assumed you were just jittery from nerves after your job interview, but this? This was something else entirely.

How long have you known?

The realization settled in his chest like a slow-building weight, pushing him further toward clarity. His gaze softened, not with pity, but with a blend of intrigue and confusion.

“Y/N, you’re watching my camming stream?” he finally says, his voice low, incredulous.

You groan, your hands flying up to cover your burning face. “Oh my god. I can explain—no, wait, I can’t explain. Just—” You trail off, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. Your voice is muffled through your palms as you mutter, “This isn’t what it looks like at all!”

You're kind of cute, all flustered like this, he thinks to himself.

Jin crosses his arms, leaning against your doorframe, and his lips quirk up into a lopsided smile. There’s amusement in his eyes, but also something more—interest, maybe? He tilts his head slightly, watching you squirm.

Maybe he should tease her a little, like old times.

“Wow,” he finally says, his voice low and teasing. “Have you been that lonely?”

Your head snaps up, your face somehow growing hotter. “What? No! I mean…” You falter, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. The breakup was actually that bad and um…but this—this isn’t about that.”

He takes a step closer, his smirk softening into something gentler. “You could’ve told me.”

“Told you what?” you ask weakly, your heart pounding as he stands just a few feet away now.

“That you’ve been feeling like this. That you needed…” His voice dips, and his dark eyes flicker over you, lingering just a little too long. “Some help...”

Your breath catches, and you swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seokjin, I don’t—”

“I could help,” he interrupts, his tone soft but unmistakably suggestive.

The weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your mind racing. Is he serious? Does he mean what you think he means?

No, like why would he? What does he gain from this? Even he himself wonders.

“You could help?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would shatter whatever fragile tension exists between you.

His eyes lock onto yours, and the look he gives you is steady, confident, and almost daring. “Yeah,” he says. “If you’d let me.”

He doesn’t think you’ll actually accept it, if anything, this is probably time for you to officially kick him out–

“Then help me, already.”

–

–

–

a/n: this is really long chapter because i really wanted to add some psychological warfare going on in reader's head + some character development as these two "childhood rivals" start to befriend each other now in their adult lives. i hope you enjoy this chapter. happy holidays!! thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[elainsgirl]

no cause im tired of everything.

I'm sick of people talking about gwyn like shes the most important character ever. like yall don't actually care about her. they only like her cause shes involved with a batboy which is ridiculous. ("pro gwyneth" like be so fr... we barely know anything about her??? Like I like gwyn but stop making stuff up about her and saying shes saving the world.) that girl didn't show any romantic feelings towards him, so stop forcing it. (not to mention they never talk about emerie... interesting)

why is azriel getting shipped with everyone?? "gwyn is azriel's mate!" "no, its eris" "no, its bryce" "no, its mor" "no, its rhys dead sister" I LAUGH SO HARD AT THESE CAUSE WHERE ARE YOU GETTING THIS FROM???? I bet if azriel breathes next to anyone, they will automatically assume its his mate! leave the guy alone, my gosh.

"his shadows hate elain" just shut up. like fr.

"elain can go to the spring court and be with tamlin while az gets with gwyn and lucien gets with vassa" BAHAHAHAHAH. bro i cant even say anything to this because its ridiculous.

"if az finds his real mate, he will leave elain in a hurry" BRO. why do you guys think this man world revolves around wanting a mate so badly???? yall think so low of him its weird. if he wanted a mate oh so badly... he wouldnt go for elain! get that in your dumb heads!

now with the bonus chapter (elain and az part) im iffy about it. its good at the start but rhys and az argument gave me the ick but I understand what he meant either way. I can see why people didnt like azriel here. but to call him entitled is just WILD! he wasnt wrong questioning the cauldron. like why is he having all these mate behaviors towards elain when she has a mate??? I'd question the cauldron, too. feyre was so real when she said "why not make them mates" because they lowk fit no matter what anyone says.

now this was really irks me. "3 brothers and 3 sisters is so cliche" cliche??? bestie- do you see what we are reading??? the answer to the riddle was "love" out of all things. shut up with that dumb excuse. we have never seen 3 brothers and 3 sisters yet- well I havent. im pretty sure most of you havent either. if you read the BOOKS, you will understand that sjm uses the word 3 a lot. this is just common sense, people love to twist stuff.

Now dont get me wrong, I'll go for elucien or elriel. I dont care. but these gwynriels made me dislike az and gwyn together. like I used to go along with it but now they force it so badly "READ THE BONUS CHAPTER" "DID YOU READ THE BONUS CHAPTER" "maKe suRe yOu rEad iT cArEfuLly" "he chuckled with her" "they glance at eachother" "az and gwyn are going to save the world together" "i hope nesta, emerie, gwyn and az leave and make their own court" < (I fr saw someone say something like this) sister... I literally cringe! just please stop.

btw elriels gwyn isnt evil. stop saying that.

im so sorry for this rant. it just had to be said.

lmfao the need to vent is so real. This fandom TESTS your patience at times.

I think one of my biggest annoyances with Gwynriel is the fact that Gwyn doesn’t even like Azriel that way. Instead of focusing on how far she’s come, her accomplishments etc everything seems to go back to Azriel. If you ever truly look At gwynriel theories and headcanons the focus is always on Az and Gwyn doesn’t have much of a story by herself, she doesn’t lead a story. She is a follower/tag along. I will always say this again and again: If she was that important to the point of having anything to do with the prisons, trove, TT/Gwydion she would have been introduced earlier on in the series. It’s that simple. She has nothing to do w the prison, Koshei or even the daggers/made objects. Everything about gwynriel is forced - from Gwyn and Az having feelings for each other to their plot. Barely anything of that ship makes sense when you truly start to unravel it.

Az is getting shipped with everyone except who he truly wants and thats just comical. I guarantee you, If Az interacted with any other woman - gwynriel shippers would split so fast and some will start shipping him with the new woman.

“His shadows hate elain” … why were they ready to strike Nesta all because she insulted elain? They also speak so can’t they literally just tell Az “hey man, we dont like elain”. Then part of this claim comes from the fact Elain made his shadows skitter which is something Az does himself.

I so want Elain to go to Spring and mention how she finds it stiffling/claustrophobic. Elain going to spring to live there is ignoring everything about her character and only focusing on the fact she likes flowers and by their own logic, Nesta should go to Day and Feyre to a more artistic court.

If Az soley wanted a mate and was so desperate for one - why on earth is he pining for someone WITH A MATE. It literally defeats the purpose of him getting a mate. Also its such a stilt to his character for him to want a mate and then get one. It doesn’t allow character growth and makes the idea of “mates” seem as a prize instead of this romantic connection. If he wanted a mate so badly, this man would be going after women with no mates. Not one that has a mate. The logic behind this arguement is so stupid,

Azriel’s bonus to me parallels Feyre’s whole scene where she questioned the cauldron because of Azriel. It was Sjms way of bringing it back and reminding us of it. Telling us “look! Another character is doubting elucien’s bond! Why is Az questioning the cauldron” etc. The only part of Azriel’s bonus where I got the ick aside from his and gwyns’ awkward conversation- is when he said Lucien doesn’t deserve Elain. I get where that statement was coming from but he isn’t someone to decide who deserves who. This is what doesn’t make sense: antis call Az entitled for simply WONDERING why Elain was given to Lucien, he hs made no move to break elucien up. He hs not forced anything onto Elain. He doesn’t dictate or control her interactions with Lucien, the fact he hadn’t planned a future for them either all show he is far from acting entitled. But eluciens needed a way to make Az seem bad and lucien better hence why latched onto this argument when it doesn’t make sense given what we know about Azriels character, his thoughts, actions and what he said in the bonus.

“3 sisters and 3 brothers is cliche” whilst reading a romantasy series ( a genre filled with repetitive cliches) by an author who claims to be the queen of cliches. Every single fated mates ending up together? Cliche. Omg the trainer and his trainee fell in love? How unique. Its not like that is also a popular trope. I cannot give you any book/s in which 3 sisters end w 3 brothers, I however can pull out multiple books with the fated mates/warriors/trainerxtrainee tropes.

Too bad. Mass loves the IC - There is no reason why Nesta/valkryies and Az would go to another court. Wait - but the night court is Azriels home. Its where he belongs, unlike Elain who has to leave…but now they want Az to leave too? One thing you can trust antis to do is be consistent with their inconsistencies. Honestly, I was open to the idea of gwynriel but genuinely none of their theories or HCs make sense. In a general sense gwynriel is a good ship sure but you can generally ship any two characters together from the series. It doesn’t mean it’s happening & they’ll be endgame.

Gwyn definitely isn’t evil. However I do think she has the potential to become morally grey which im all here for.

[starryemeralds]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE TWINS, DIPPER AND MABEL 🩷💙

Bonus Comic Below

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[cluescorner]

Long Post about Savage Opress because I am Normal

Savage Opress, you are everything.

You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love. You had to participate in a battle royale and subjected yourself to a fate worse than death in order to protect your brother. You were forced to kill the brother you fought so hard to protect, your last words to him as he begged for his life were 'You make (me) weak'.

You are Frankenstein's monster, a kinslayer. You just have to live with that. Your mistress isn't giving you a choice in the matter.

You were placed under the control of a cruel master/mistress twice in the span of like a week. You were forced to betray your master and (under your mistress's orders) you killed two jedi, making you an enemy of the two most powerful entities in the galaxy. You made these enemies against your own will. You were lightning spammed and abused to the point that you were able to break free of your mistress's control.

You are then attacked by these two random jedi you have never met. They seem intent on bringing you in. They stand besides each other and fight to protect each other. You are reminded of how you did the same for your own brother. You killed that brother.

You run to the only home you've ever known, the same home that treated you as lesser-than and transformed you into what you are now. Your home is destroyed, all of your sisters are dead. You are upset by this. They were the cause of your suffering, but they were still kin.

You are told that you have a remaining brother, one who can make you strong enough to protect yourself. You decide to travel across the galaxy to find him. You killed your last brother, you will do anything for this one.

You seem to create trouble everywhere you are now. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you become. You become hatred. You had love once, but everything that you loved is dead. Except for your remaining brother. You do whatever you must to find him.

You find your brother. Your brother is delirious and half-dead, but he is your brother and you found him. You can fix this. Your brother sees you too, or at least he sometimes does. You are a reflection of him, of what he was meant to be. You are strong and powerful. Your brother is not anymore, but he will be soon.

Your mother, the same woman who took you and warped you into a monster (that is what everybody calls you now), fixes your brother. Your brother grabs your face and twists it, painfully examining your every pore. You don't begrudge him this. You have done the same to it. Your face isn't yours, but it is the only face you have.

Your brother screams for vengeance against Kenobi, he must have revenge. You must stand by your brother, he is all that is left. You embark on a quest of vengeance against a man you only briefly met.

You become everything your brother needs you to be. You are his protector, his sword, his second-in-command. You have love again and you will do anything to keep it this time.

Your brother is a terrible person. Your brother will massacre a village for the sake of getting Kenobi's attention. Your living brother is nothing like the one you killed. You aren't sure this is a good thing.

Your brother lures Kenobi to the village and you both capture him. Your mistress shows up and immediately sets about belittling you. You are the monster she and your mother created. You are not her thrall anymore, you can fight her now. You do exactly that.

Your mistress and Kenobi retreat, your brother chooses to bide his time. You will wait with him.

Your brother and you infiltrate a ship, finding a fortune of credits. You are happy with this, you have never seen this much money in your life. Your brother's only fortune is the downfall of Kenobi.

Your brother calls you apprentice, decides that is what your relationship is now. You don't see the need for dominance, you are brothers after all. Your brother disagrees and you will subject yourself to this for your brother's sake. You are a reflection of him, of all his past flaws. You are devoted to those you love and able to feel things other than vindictive glee or hatred. Your brother is not anymore, he might never be again.

You think your brother is incapable of love. You love him all the same.

You and your brother next run into Kenobi with another Jedi Master. You do not know her name nor anything about her. You kill her, goring her with your (far larger than they should be) horns and running her through with your lightsaber. Your master is not forcing your hand this time, you can finally choose to make an enemy of the Jedi. You would have been their enemy either way, but the false choice is comforting regardless.

You and your brother corner Kenobi. You think for a moment that you have gotten the upper-hand, then Kenobi cuts your arm off. Your body leaks green magic. Your mother's magic still holds power over you even after everything. You wish it didn't.

Your brother shoves Kenobi away from you and decides to retreat. You aren't sure if this is a sign of affection towards you or if this is a strategic move. Your brother speaks as if it's the latter. You see no reason to believe otherwise.

You manage to escape, but are left adrift in space. You are freezing and slowly running out of oxygen. Your home was warm and full of breatheable air. You are alone with only a brother who calls you 'apprentice' for company. Your home was filled with brothers who called you by your name or by 'brother'. You are alive. Your home and brothers are dead.

You next wake up in an unfamiliar place. You smash all the equipment around you. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you have become. Your brother informs you that his plans have changed, and now you two will be working with Deathwatch. You have no idea what Deathwatch is or who your brother just made a deal with. You will follow him regardless.

You stand up and hit your head on the lamp above you. You were supposed to be shorter than you are now. Your body is wrong. You look in the mirror and you are not yourself. Your body isn't yours, but it is the only body you have.

Your brother takes over Mandalore. You watch as your brother marches Kenobi into the throne room and prepares to execute the Duchess of this planet.

Kenobi offers sympathy. Kenobi recognizes that your brother never had a choice in joining the dark side. Kenobi had gone to your village and seen what it is like for the nightbrothers. Kenobi, despite everything, is trying to be kind.

You hear your story in Kenobi's words. You never had a choice in any of this. You never stood a chance. Your body isn't yours, your mind has been warped and twisted into serving the goals of another. You only wanted to protect your brother.

Your brother kills the love of Kenobi's life. Your brother has stripped himself and you of any possible chance to take the olive branch Kenobi was extending. You ask if you should kill Kenobi now. You know that stewing in grief and guilt can be a terrible fate. Your brother decides to keep him imprisoned. Your brother is counting on the Kenobi stewing in his grief and guilt. Your brother wants to drag out his suffering for as long as possible.

Your brother is in charge for less than a rotation. Your brother panics and bows before a withered old man, calling him 'master'. Your brother lies and fawns to his master. Your brother's master does not care.

You have never met this man before. You have no reason to fight him. Your brother is terrified of him. Your brother grovels before nobody, but he bows before this man. You don't have to do this.

Your brother needs you. You draw your weapon.

You manage to get a hit in on your brother's master. You are one of very few in the galaxy who can say that. You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love.

You are stabbed in both your hearts. Your efforts to protect your brother, your pain and suffering, your love and affection, you, Savage Opress, you don't matter. You didn't know it, but you were fighting the most powerful being in the galaxy.

You never had a choice. You never stood a chance.

You die thinking you were unworthy of your brother. Your brother never said or did anything to make you think otherwise. You die calling yourself apprentice, that is the relationship your brother wanted. Your brother holds your hand as you die, it is trembling. You aren't sure if it is from grief or hatred. You decide it must be the latter. Your brother is only capable of hatred.

You knew your brother was incapable of love. You loved him all the same.

You don't know that you might have been the only thing your brother cared about besides his vengeance. You don't know that when you are unconcious he calls you by your name, he calls you brother. You don't know that he nearly killed the Death Watch soldiers, but stopped when they threatened you. You couldn't know. Your brother never told you.

You don't know that he uses his grief as fuel for his duel with Sidious. You don't know that he switches his ire away from Kenobi and decides that his former master is a more pressing target of his hatred You don't know that he spends the rest of his days trying to find a new apprentice to fill the hole you left and that it never works. You will never know. You are dead.

You died realizing you were nothing like your brother. You never were. Your body shrinks down, you finally look like yourself again. You can't be happy about this. You can't take relief in the fact that all the magic which ruined your life has been dispelled. You can't feel anything. You are dead.

You are right. You are nothing like Darth Maul. Your brother is motivated by hatred, you are motivated by love. Your brother will die having found peace, you died having found nothing but pain and grief and yet more pain.

You are my favorite magical girl and you have suffered so much more than Jesus.

[artsfavoritehorn]

Drinking wine rn and just thinking about art the clown like I love him sm you don't understand 😩😩😩

*insert the clip of Murr from Impractical Jokers singing "blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol* iykyk😆🥲

[doodle17]

Art thou as irked as I am when hearing people complain about Raz’s personality change from the 1st game to the second?

Like… the kid went through 2 whole games worth of trauma, including thinking that he had been abandoned to die by the only truly supportive people in his life up to that point.

Of COURSE he mellowed out. Of COURSE he doesn’t push back against the other interns. He recognizes they all earned the right to be there too and (unlike the campers) they’re all significantly older than him.

(Sorry, this rantier than I meant it to 😅)

Me who is one of the people who kind of complains about the personality change

I definitely see what people mean with all those points, especially the interns being older and stuff

But I dunno! It still bothers me!! I don't know why but it does and I can't turn it off

[quokkabite]

hi for absolutely no reason whatsoever u should show me what han pcs u have and also ones u like and want just for research purposed yk

i have not nearly enough 😭😭😭

and honestly there’s no han pc in this world i wouldn’t want 🥲 i’m v v v v v so normal about him honestly one hundred percent 🙂

[edge-oftheworld]

see the thing about boy is that while it's 'i'm an addict who gets angry and punches walls' 'i hope i die in my sleep, no one would care, but instead i'll live in this fantasy' 'i miss my family and don't know how to communicate my love for them that feels like it's not getting out of me while i'm on the other side of the world' 'i regret my entire life and all the time i've lost' 'i'm replaceable and feel this semblance of being alive sometimes, you're so steadfast and i'm just surviving in the habitat you create' 'this life is nothing but pain and lost love and i can't feel connection without pain or vice versa' 'i've been bought and sold and it fucked me up and i'm self destructive and don't trust myself'

but it's also 'embrace yourself and everything you've done without judgement' 'embrace that feeling of love you have it's magical, live in the moment and chase it where it wants to go' 'i can have so much love for people so far away and love it here too' 'i've got regrets but i'm living in the moment and yes it means feeling them too' 'hey i can feel alive being calm and find magic in the simplicity and just sit with all that even if i'm feeling existential and nature is pretty' 'this is a good life and when i can't see it i have people who love me and their memories to remind me' 'sometimes you meet people who bring you back to life take the chance with them it can get better'

and it's just so unapologetic in both ways and i think that's what i love the most. so much maturity mixed in with childlike innocence, truly nothing has been left out and there's just no shame only pure acceptance and it's really hard to find that in any kind of art let alone something so beautiful and well done

[kuromi-hoemie]

why is it always the forbidden fruit that entices me the most (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

[hadrianblackwaters]

!! DRUMINDOR SPOILERS IN TEXT AND TAGS !!

Listening to Drumnidor as a Hadrian girlie is not easy. My god they're assassinating his entire character and taking away his life purpose right in front of us! They're reducing him to a stupid comic relief character with no depth and no real influence on the people around him (to a greater degree than they ever did before) and they're taking away all his greatest achievements and attributing them to someone else to fit the plot! His main character status has been revoked and he's now apparently merely a supporting character in someone else's story. Please, everyone, a moment of silence for my blorbo 😔🙏 Rest in peace mr. Blackwater. At least they let you pull some impressive-arse sword moves, you looked really cool... but I am so sorry they did not let you be a practising hoe in this one 🥀

[apathyfairy]

.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

My mom told me the other day that it was gonna seem like I was trying to date my friend if I payed for her ticket to a show, so maybe you should try and pay for his food and that’ll indicate your intentions lol 😅

LMAO fuck maybe I could try that 😂

[sassy-assassin]

Realizing I'm literally cycling through the 5 stages of grief because of that episode

[exactoknife]

its just so.... like idk after that milatequila 1d video last week i have been listening to their music a lot idk bc i was nostalgic ig. but i also went through my whole 1d tag on here and was just reminiscing abt that era and what it meant to me as a teenager. they were *sooo* important to me at one point in my life and their music was even more important to me omfg as commercial and corny as it was. But still. it meant something and it really truly shaped my music taste. and even some of my friends at that age, i wouldn't have rly bonded w them without being a fan of 1d. honestly i wouldn't have been introduced to a lot of things or exposed to stuff without being a 1d fan... tbh they are partly why i even joined tumblr in the first place so. idk. who would i be without 1d. i don't know. this news just doesn't feel ???? it's just so out of nowhere and Tragic i feel so sad for his son :(