#phasing back to tumblr after disappearing only to like this

[tigertofu]

ok i've been chipping away at this Thing for a long time and i think it's finally ready to be vomitted out into the internet. without further ado, here is my

Stupid-Long List of Trevor Headcanons

divided into chronological sections !

((the NSFW shit is hiding at the bottom))

CW's for: mentions of drugs/alcohol, addiction, cannibalism, violence, gross sex stuff. typical Trevor things

and heres a gif of him cuz ig thats the tumblr thing to do idk i never made one of these lists b4 :x

the past

• he's a scorpio and the reason he has a scorpion tat on his hand is bc he's like. very mildly into horoscopes. he was born some time in november

• he doesn't have a middle name cuz his mom didn't give enough of a shit to give him one

• despite playing hockey and golf as a kid, he was never really that into the sports themselves. he only did hockey because he saw it as a way to beat up other children and not get reprimanded for it, and he did both in the hopes of being good enough at something to earn his mother's praise for once (it did not work :()

• hates his dad bc of how he treated his mom and is glad he abandoned him at that shopping mall when he was a kid

• he (w/ Brad's help) would play "pranks" on (aka BULLY) poor Lester during the north yankton days. some fav pastimes included (but were not limited to): pantsing him, hiding his walking cane, and replacing his asthma medication with laughing gas

• was highkey jealous of how easy Michael could get girls during the north yankton days. when he actually was able to convince a girl to come back home with him, he would make sure to be loud as hell about it so that Mike would know he wasn't the only one getting chicks

• all of his hand tats and a lot of his other tats were done in prison, even tho he was only in for like 6 months

• prison was a mixed bag for him. on one hand, anal. on the other, having to restrain himself from arguments and physical altercations so he could get out early on good behavior

• went thru a breakdancing phase in the 90's (i THINK this one might be canon. idk. could've sworn i've heard him try to tell Lamar this in an attempt to impress him. pls feel free to prove me wrong or right)

• one of the scars on his eyebrows is actually the result of getting a fresh eyebrow piercing ripped tf out during a barfight in the 00's. prob for the best that it was cuz we all know that shit wouldve ended up getting infected and rejecting out of his face anyways

• he moved to Sandy Shores not just because it's nice and isolated, but because it was the place most opposite of north yankton he could think of. never any snow. he absolutely fucking hates cold weather and snow because it reminds him of a certain bank heist that happened in '04

• between Ron, Chef, and Wade, Chef was the first one he met after moving to Sandy Shores. they used to cook meth together in a trailer out in the desert (another one that i THINK is canon but im not sure idk. it all blurs together, idk whats canon and whats not anymore, my brain is too rotted from spinning Trevor around in it like the world's most dried out little shriveled husk of a rotisserie chicken for the past three years, the fog is coming, yk how it is)

• he acquired Liquor Ace the same way he "acquired" the Vanilla Unicorn. the previous owner just mysteriously disappeared one day. nobody in Sandy Shores cared tho once word got around that the new owner was gonna start cooking crystal in the upstairs and selling it

• yk how in the game he said that his heart momentarily stopped once cuz he put an axe thru a power cable? he did that cuz the power had gone out in the middle of him watching an Impotent Rage episode he hadn't seen yet. for some reason (was prob very high and very angry) he thought that he could bring the power back by hitting the sparking wire with an axe. it didnt work. he smelled like overcooked bacon for a week afterwards. he enjoyed that part tho

the present

• he makes Ron cut his hair with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors when he needs a trim. he used to go to the nice barber lady in Sandy Shores but got banned after loudly moaning about how good her nails felt on his scalp once

• once smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. Wade witnessed this and found it extremely impressive

• he'll eat pretty much anything but he especially likes foods with strong flavors. salty, sour, super sweet, spicy, etc cuz his taste buds are SHOT from the years of smoking/drug abuse. he abuses condiments, especially hot sauce

• thinks that any restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru is a "fancy" restaurant

• LOVES candy cuz the meth has given him a major sweet tooth, but prefers anything with chocolate over fruity/gummy candies

• has a weird fascination with eating raw meat.....of any kind. except for sushi. he thinks sushi is "fancy prissy city people food"

• also has a weird fascination with making stews/soups similar to the eyelid one that he tries to feed Michael in that one cutscene. it's the only type of food he knows how to cook. may be a comfort thing for him because microwaving a bowl of canned soup was the most effort his mother ever put into making a meal for him when he was a kid. and she did it like, twice, maybe. he for sure remembers both times very clearly tho and considers them to be some of his fondest memories

• will go for days without eating anything solid before finally sitting down and consuming enough food to feed a family of 5. sometimes he just like. forgets that eating is necessary for survival

• can open beer bottles with his teeth. between that and the meth habit, its an absolute miracle he still has all his teeth

• go-to pizza order is a large meat lover's. he tries to make vaguely sexual passes about "loving large meat" at the poor pizza delivery guys every time he orders delivery. does not tip, but will say shit like "hey, if you come inside i've got a little tip for ya" while the delivery guy quickly vacates the premises

• honestly? i think there is a good 50/50 chance on whether or not he is ACTUALLY a cannibal. maybe he posters as one cuz he likes the reactions it incites, maybe he genuinely enjoys the psychosexual intimacy of consuming the flesh of another human being........ who knows !! not knowing is half the fun :)

• ok ok hear me out u know that stupid tiktok sound that was going around a couple years ago that goes "hi my name is carmen winstead -- HAAAAAHHHGGCHH" ??? look it up if u don't cuz that's what his snoring sounds like. the fucking "HAAAAAHHHGGCHH"

• once he's asleep he is out like a fucking light. guy could sleep thru nuclear war

• is not opposed to drinking hand sanitizer when out of other sources of alcohol. it tastes just like the shitty moonshine Ron makes in his backyard anyways and gets him even drunker so why not !

• hates horror films bc they make him angry. at least, any of the ones where somebody survives at the end. thinks the murderers in them are stupid. starts yelling shit at the TV like "HE'S GETTING AWAY YOU STUPID FUCK,, WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!!!"

• believes baby pink and orange are "his colors"

• will sit on his sofa or bed and try to shoot any cockroaches scurrying around his place with a pistol for funsies when bored sometimes

• enjoys playing darts at the Yellow Jack with anyone who'll play him but absolutely fucking sucks at it cuz of his shaky hands. accidentally threw a dart into another bar patron's head once. will rage and insist his opponent cheated when he loses. will then get physical if anyone tries to tell him its impossible to cheat at darts. is much less of a sore loser when playing with Mike, Frank, or Lamar tho he will still grumble about losing for up to hours on end afterwards

• is an illegal immigrant bc he never became a US citizen. does not own an actual ID, but has several fakes lying around, all with fake birth dates and fake names that are wildly varying levels of believable

• will absolutely flip his fucking lid if Wade comes around him while wearing Juggalo face paint

• speaking of Wade. yk how he has a shitty tattoo of his own name on his arm? (at least i think he does. i tried looking to see if he does and i couldnt tell so now im unsure if thats just yet another detail that my brain completely made up or smth that i actually saw). ANYWAYS, Trevor gave it to him (stick n poke. it was a longggg process but Wade didnt mind too much cuz he was high at the time and consented to it beforehands anyways) when Trevor first "took him in" cuz he kept forgetting his name and got tired of referring to him as "Hey, you" (which Wade did not respond to most of the time anyways)

• is an ugly crier. like, a butt-ugly crier. snot, drooling, wailing, red face, the whole nine yards and he is loud as hell about it too

• loves back rubs cuz ofc he does he's an old man. often makes Ron or Wade give him massages

• his boomer-ass super-zoomed-in LifeInvader profile pic was taken by Ron. it took them a dozen tries before they got it

nsfw

• he sucks at eating out.........kinda? but what he lacks in precision and consistency he makes up for with sheer (sloppy. slobbery) passion. and endurance. can stay down there (and will, if you let him) for hours

• is not much better at blowing. "accidentally" uses too much teeth every time

• ~4 inches. MAYBE 4.5. good girth tho. not cut

• has a thing for chubby/thicc ppl

• is a biter and won't ask before biting so uhh watch out ! part of the reason for the above is bc there's more to bite

• loooooves loves loves to suck on things. fingers, necks, tits, dicks, anything. also looooooves having it reciprocated. particularly likes shoving his fingers in your mouth

• loves to involve mouths as much as possible. spitting/being spat on, the aforementioned biting as well as being bitten, eating food off of your body or having food eaten off of him, the type of makeout sessions that involve shoving each other's tongues down each other's throats.. anything that involves mouths and/or the motions of eating drives him fucking wild

• will beg you even when not explicitly told to when he's not feeling dominant. will beg and beg and beg and beg and it's hot but can also quickly become incredibly annoying

• but he LOVES to be annoying on purpose too. via the begging, or by teasing/edging, mocking, etc. loves to get a rise out of you and loves the attention (even if negative.. ESPECIALLY if negative) it gets him

• occasionally cries after sex. will expect you to hold him while he does. will start to angry cry and say you don't actually love him if you refuse

• now ik this one is nothing groundbreaking and seems to already be the general consensus amongst the Trevor enjoyers but im gonna say it anyways. he def has a thing for public/semi-public sex. be careful about sitting next to him while in any public space. he WILL try to touch on you and it WILL be in a way that makes it obvious to everyone in the immediate vicinity what's going on. does he do it on purpose as an exhibition thing? maybe...... does he genuinely think he's being slick about it? also maybe. if ur with him, expect to be banned from multiple establishments

• lowkey has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves to finish inside (not just bc it feels nice but also bc of the intimacy of it) and thinks that pregnant women are hot as hell

• is most likely infertile due to the years of meth use tho

• loves to both overstimulate and be overstimulated. just bc you've both climaxed doesnt mean he wont keep going for god-knows-how-long

..................andd that's all she (i) wrote. ty for reading !! i've got more shit to say about Trevor cuz ofc i do but this is already like 2k words so if u wanna hear my headcanons on anything specific at all,, pls do throw it in my ask box ! <33

[safetycar-restart]

LESTAPPEN!DS AU (Tumblr deleted the ask but I am nothing if not persistent)

Ok I swear an ask just disappeared from my askbox because it was there before I went to make tea and now it is nowhere to be found but I really wanted to discuss it so I'm gonna answer it here anyway so anon who sent that ask, this is for you!

So it was about a poly!lestappen idea that I had for the D/S AU where you're a professional dom in Monaco and you dom both Max and Charles professionally. Except they both want more than that, so badly they want more than that. They don't know you dom the other until they run into each other outside of your offices and they're shocked but end up bonding over both wanting more with you and then eventually realise they actually want each other too, they want to both be your subs and have you be their dom, properly not just professionally.

The ask basically just asked for more info about this AU, how I think it would happen, where it would go after they realise they both have the same pro dom, etc.

Firstly, I think they'd go through a very brief phase of being jealous of each other. Neither of them are happy to actually meet one of your other subs. Knowing you're a professional dom with other subs is one thing, but actually seeing one of your other subs is another story.

So for a while they avoid each other like the plague, until there's a triple header where neither of them have been able to go back to Monaco and they both miss you so much. Charles goes to max, because he thinks max is the only one who would understand that he doesn't just need to submit to some random dom he needs you.

And Max does understand. They sit with each other that whole night, talking about how much they miss you and how much they hate the fact that you're a professional dom and not their own doms, that you'll never collar them.

They become a lot closer after that, but they take a while to tell you that they know about each other. They're both scared that they've broken some unnamed confidentiality rule, that you'd stop domming them if you knew they talked about you to each other.

It's the idea of bringing you to a race weekend that prompts them to finally tell you. It was Max's idea, after the third triple header where they both spend the last weekend curled up together (exactly how you would cuddle them), and max asks what would happen if they invited you to the second weekend in a triple header. Charles perks up immediately, because there's no denying how good that would be.

It's Charles who tells you they know each other in the end, not on purpose but because he's so fucked out and floating deep in subspace that he can't control what he babbles about. You've got him cuddled against your chest, and he's happily babbling away about how happy he is and how good you make him feel and then he just goes 'wanna cuddle you 'n maxy, maxy is so warm'.

You freeze, at first you don't realise who he's talking about but then you realise it's your max. Of course you knew that he knew Max, but considering the amount of NDAs you had to sign to scene with either of them, you assumed they'd never tell each other who they scened with. But apparently not, and apparently they cuddled together.

Charles doesn't even realise what he's done, and you don't bring it up then because it would probably send him right into a drop.

But later, after he's already left, you can't stop thinking about what he said.

You imagine then together, two of your subs cuddled up all warm and safe. You can't deny that they're both your favourite subs. You know you shouldn't have favourites, that you're just providing a service. But they are both such sweet good boys, and you wish they could be yours so badly.

Maybe Max convinced you to go out to coffee with him and Charles after you didnt react badly to finding out they know of each other and have clearly been talking about you.

You know you shouldn't have agreed to it, it certainly breaks every professional boundary in the book. But honestly... you want to spend more time with them.

Despite them trying to arrange more and more time with you and getting you to come to races, it takes them much longer to realise they actually want each other too. They manage to convince themselves that the only reason they enjoy cuddling and spending time together is because they miss you and know what you're like.

Which just... adorable really.

[vintage-bentley]

I know trying to get genderwoo out of fandom can feel like rolling a boulder up a hill sometimes, but I genuinely do think things are starting to shift! At last!

I'm in a fandom that was so terminally brainrotted by kweer theory I almost never engaged directly. But I still hang out in those spaces and keep an eye on how things are progressing. I view it as a good canary in the coalmine, for wider fandom attitudes. If things can shift there, change will be a-comin' elsewhere.

I've always thought this stuff would start to revert when it reached a saturation point and became boring, in conjunction with becoming uncool in the outside world. The fics that once felt so boundary-pushing will become generic and get less views, and people will go looking for the next exciting thing. And then mockery of twans will start to creep into fandom spaces, especially as Gen Alpha comes of age. When it becomes cringe to be non-binary is when the fics / art work will really start to dry up and we'll know it's dead. There will be a few die-hards still hanging on, but they'll be the people who took it too far and transitioned in real life, so feel too invested to let go. Everyone else will quietly drop the fad and move onto something else.

(I actually think het-fic is overdue for a comeback. They can only suppress themselves so long. I'm already starting to notice a trend of people gender-swapping gay ships to essentially make them het, but not in a trans way. Just straight up "what if one of them was a girl?" This has really taken off over the past year, and people aren't getting crucified for it the way they would have been, as recently as 2022. Another sign the winds of change are blowing. But yes, anyway, my point is classic het fic is making a comeback, and I couldn't be happier. The more people jump off the Tumblr-brainrotted bandwagon of thinking they have to be "gay" to be Good People™️, the sooner normality will return to gay fandom. I very much view the above as a transitional phase these writers are going through while they explore if it might be "okay" to write het fic after all. They're testing the waters. All we need is for some big fandom to provide a het ship they can latch onto, and the Big Name Fans will jump ship to write for it and set the trend. A Twilight for the animation nerds. The stage is set for it. All we need is for someone to come along with the right thing and strike gold.)

But back to my canary in the coalmine fandom. I won't name it, but like I said, this is an extremely immature fandom, which went hard on genderwoo. But I'm starting to notice signs of change. Even there! There is a confessions blog in the fandom, run by some pretty cringe true believers, and I like to use it as a gauge of how things are going. Lately I've noticed a real drop-off in interest in trans-related posts. The irritating MOGAI headcanons fans would once have lapped up will now receive 20 - 30 notes per post - in contrast to posts that are just funny, ship, or character-focused, which tend to get 60 - 100 notes. The same with posts which try to critique the show's handling of trans. Those barely scrape thirty notes anymore. People are clearly still around and watching for good fan content, because they spring to life when it appears, but they're not even wasting their time virtue-signalling with the twans stuff. It's an observable pattern. There is less and less engagement. Even here on Tumblr, even in a fandom that was once all in on the woo. It's dying off.

I'm curious if this is observable in other fandoms too. I suspect it is. In my mind, the trajectory of all this ending looks like:

silent majority becomes put off by it and stops engaging ➡️ interest drops and production of fanworks featuring trans drops accordingly ➡️ the wider mockery of the TQ cult begins to make its way to fandom spaces ➡️ it becomes outright cringe to produce this content ➡️ it begins to disappear and be deleted, with creators either name-changing to start over entirely, or claiming they just want to delete stuff they made when they were younger and don't feel is up to their current standards (or some other polite excuse for purging) ➡️ het fic experiences a resurgence and becomes the majority again, and most fans memory hole this entire era of TQ madness ➡️ as a conservative backlash reduces the amount of actual homosexual representation in media, and the larpers lose interest, gay and lesbian fandom spaces slowly shift back to something more like where we were in the early 2000s.

I really think it's starting to happen.

I really hope you’re right!! And I think you probably are.

I’ve always thought too that right now, we’re just seeing a trend in action. It’s almost definitely a result of the “tumblr model”.

It started out with tolerance for gay people, then glorification in the form of “omg my gay babies, look at me writing so much fic about gay boys, they’re just so cute and perfect!”. Then the appropriation comes in with the straight girls saying “actually I’M a gay boy!”. Then fanaticism with the craziness of gender ideology, and intolerance with “cis gays (actual homosexuals) are so awful and transphobic, I hate them!”. In my opinion, we’re currently in a combination stage of those last two both in and outside of fandom. And I think this model is missing a stage, since we haven’t quite gotten there yet. That stage would probably be something like “disinterest”, which is when the fanatics completely lose interest in the thing they glorified and appropriated. And like you said, that’s already happening.

So much of the gender stuff in fandom seems to be people trying to be as outrageous and Revolutionary as possible. It’s all a big performance of “fuck you, mom! I’m different!”. That’s how the glorification of gay relationships started in fandom! It was a dirty little secret for these straight fans.

Now, the way they’re “revolutionary” is just by making gay ships straight. That’s going to have to get old eventually, and the only further step I can see is to just go over to actual het relationships and claim it’s some sort of unique rebellion. I can see it now: “I’ve always wanted to be a fan of straight ships but I was made to feel so ashamed of it! I know it’s not very popular but I’m going to be brave and special and declare my love for straight ships in the homonormative fanspace!”.

And I agree, I think that’s a really good thing. PLEASE, go take the het shit to actual het ships!! I am so tired of seeing various forms of “straightening out” gay ships.

The thing that scares me is knowing that however the fall of gender ideology happens…it’s going to take LGB acceptance down too because of how successful the TQ+ have been at forcing an association with us. There’s going to be conservative backlash, and while all the straight Kweers are going to wash out the hair dye, take the pronouns out of their bio, and enjoy their straight marriages…LGB people are going to be left receiving all of the blame for the mess those straight Kweers created. The silver lining is that at least LGBs will once again be able to create our own spaces, on and offline, without straight people trying to overtake them.

Anyway, I completely agree with what you’re saying and I think it’s a pretty accurate prediction of how things might play out. Being Kweer is a trend, and like all trends it will die. I’m just not looking forward to the mess LGB people will be left with.

[thecallofthecrow]

Two Tarot Draws (And a Mystery)

FIRST DRAWING

Question asked to: The Morrigan

Question asked: Will my partner receive the blessing she is looking for?

Card pulled: Nine of Pentacles

Meaning: Prosperity, Accomplishment, Self-Sufficiency, Empowerment

Implied Meaning: I don't know anymore. We thought the draws meant good was to come but it never came. The job listing disappeared. We really thought she'd get it. Not even an email. I want to take this to mean we're yet to be surprised but I don't know. We're really down right now, and I don't know how to help her. The Morrigan knows how important this is, and she wouldn't lie. Good things have to be on the way... Right?

Beginning of the Mystery

After that pull, I did a ritual. Just a short one, nothing major. Or at least I thought. Then I felt an unfamiliar presence enter the room as I lit the candles. I couldn't place it.

It wasn't comforting and soft like the Morrigan had been up til now.

It wasn't the "all business" approach Brigid took with me.

And it wasn't the overpowering and terror Rhiannon instilled in me.

Instead it was just odd. Weird, alien. Use any word you want to. I don't know who - or what - it was. All I know is that unless she was playing a funny prank, it was NOT the Morrigan. You know why?

She didn't pick her favorite bell.

Isn't that a bit of an overreaction to a different bell being chosen?

No, you don't understand. She loves her favorite bell. During rituals with her, she will always choose the favorite bell first. The one on the right, the one with the handle, the one I know, I felt was her favorite. I don't know why she likes it; the sound, the shape, even the image printed on it. It's her favorite. And from the moment whatever-it-was chose the left bell I knew something was wrong.

So I chose that bell. Whoever was present wanted it, so I gave it to them. What else was I to do? I'm a simple Witch in the middle of all this.

So what did you do?

I went forward with the ritual. I wished for my partner's success, that she get this job despite all odds, that she pull through, that she may not have to sub and these stupid schools anymore because she gets a better temp position. I've all but run out of hope. I told her to wait until Tuesday, and guess what day it is. Tuesday, 3:35 AM at the time of writing. In 3 hours and 25 minutes I have to be at a car shop to get my car dropped off for repair. It's stupid to be writing this Tumblr post but I have to catalogue what happened.

So what happened after the ritual that got you so shit scared?

I was between worlds. I was still in the physical world, but on the edge of it. My friend, who I was in communication with, called it phasing. It was uncomfortable to say the least, and incredibly unpleasant. I usually only enter this state when someone has a message to deliver. But nothing came; only the phrase "Feed the flock."

Now, this is a normal phrase after a ritual, but this time it was so intense I couldn't put it off. I got my bird seed, and when I got outside at this - for lack of a better term - unholy hour, I was instructed to leave it at a specific tree. Why that specific tree? Beats the fuck out of me. But I did as instructed.

"The Flock is Fed!" Came the call of the flock. And thus I was granted peace. But I didn't phase back into the physical world entirely yet.

I stayed between worlds, sitting in my bed, trying to calm down and find a way out of this mess. I talked to my friend half in a daze. He got me to get salt and sprinkle it on myself and on my altar. Moments later, I fell back into the physical, tactile world. I feel totally at my senses, other than the feeling of exhaustion.

So what?

So? I had a terrifying experience, and I don't fully feel the presence gone. They won't identify themselves either. They're still with me as I write this post. It's uncomfortable and alien, but if it was demonic or spiritual I think it would have left by now. I think I lack the knowledge to know who it is, and that's why I'm in this mess.

So, I did what anyone would do, or at least what my dumbass would do, and drew a single draw tarot card.

So after all that, you're just gonna leave us with the second Tarot draw like that and expect us to believe all this?

Be in disbelief all you want. For all I know, I'm having a schizo episode and I hallucinated all that. Fuck if I know, but I know what I felt. So here's the next draw.

SECOND DRAWING

Question asked to: The Presence

Question asked: What do you want?

Card pulled: Six of Pentacles. You know, that card I drew before.

Meaning: Generosity, Charity, Financial Balance, Security, Justice, Fairness

Implied Meaning: What the fuck am I supposed to gather from this? Does it want something from me? If it did it would have channeled something through me by now. It has me in it's envelopment. It could do whatever it wants to me. Does it want to help me? Does it want me to help it? I don't even know. I feel like I'm going fucking nuts.

I dunno, I'll figure it out in the morning, unless I start phasing again. I just want to sleep. I don't want to mess with the occult right now, I'm so tired. Gods, someone help me. The Morrigan, the Phantom Queen, please save me. Please. Find it in your heart to pull me out of this and give me respite. I'll do whatver you want, just get this thing away from me. Please.

Alright buddy, calm down there, you'll be fine; just get some sleep.

Thanks random strawman argument I pulled out of my ass - I think I'll do just that. Wish me luck. Good night - or morning rather. I'll be up in three hours to clean out my car.

Blessed Be. I hope I get out of this mess. I'm slowly feeling Her return to me.

Kuro.

[doodle-pops]

omg!!!!!! i would’ve loved to hear ur thoughts on the angsty mortal x immortal😞 sorry tumblr is being weird for u!!

but to be fair, in my defence!!! i would’ve frozen up and panicked if an elf confessed to me. imagine it’s someone’s as great and respected like glorifindel. like don’t get me wrong, he’s a great statue of a man. but i personally would’ve believed he would be lying to me and playing some sick joke 💀💀 like how can you THEEE balrog slayer like some nothing of a human being 🤔 r u sure you’re not making a mistake here⁉️⁉️

but personal grievances aside, in terms of plot sake, let’s just make it angsty!!! i can see that reader might be coming from great insecurity, as you said, and is not thinking right. imagine being a bystander and watching that go down 😭 omg id cringe so hard, it’s like watching a public proposal and the person being proposed to says no outright and now….everyone is just frozen stiff with awkwardness. now what???

maybe to add another layer and dramatic flare to it, what if it was an enemies to lovers dynamic? maybe that’s why reader would he adamant about being against the confession 🤔 they just fully believe that they won’t be good together—constantly bickering and arguing. there’s no common ground! so why now, of all times, did this elf fall in love with them? for what purpose? some twisted and cruel consequence that is love? (heavy desperation included BTW maybe both sides are mutual, but one is more on extreme denial while the either is just grasping at straws atp)

also side note, if the elf in question was someone insane like IDK faenor during that phase of his, it’d be reasonable that reader would try and run away from them 😞😞 that man is fine…do NOT get me wrong. but he ain’t my damage to carry 😫

Tumblr is being very weird. I also hate that new feature where all the coloured text are underlined. Like??? Ew no, the aesthetic is ruined 😭.

I agreed with that Feanor statement. Like yes Mr made with perfection in mind, body and soul you are fine but I'm not carrying your baggage 🤚. Deal with your issues before stepping to me angry fire boi.

For the whole idea of the elf out of nowhere confessing their undying love for a mere mortal reader, it would be a scary experience. "Who are you and what do you want from me?" Insecurities will be kicking us hard in the head when the comparisons are being made. A great elf courting a mere mortal 😳. "Sir, are your eyes in need of being checked? 20/20 vision?"

This post is so coincidental because last night I was teasing @lamemaster about plotting a Maedhros enemies to lovers angst fic 😈. I like the idea of watching people lose their minds over the back and forth mutual pinning and hating. And I absolutely agree with you on the "suddenly out of nowhere they realised they love me!" Like what do you mean love? When you despised me?? And we were at each other's throats??

Being a bystander leads to secondhand embarrassment. I would be screaming in lowercase for reader to disappear. This leads to another #huh? #cringeworthy #isheforreal? #erupickupyourson

Conversely, I do enjoy the idea of reader and elf enemies to lovers troupe stem from two houses feuding. Generational feuding that transcends through history and they're the ones who decide whether they end it or continue. That's interesting though, an elven house feuding with a mortal house 🤭. Not only insecurities get introduced but superiority and egotism to drive the dislike they contain.

For a plot twist, I would enjoy if reader and elf still didn't end up together. After all the turmoil and biting at each other's throats, they remain neutral #friendzoneforlife 😗👉👈

[niemernuet]

Where's that post about tumblr moots gracefully ignoring it when you're going through another unhinged phase when you need it? Anyway, thanks for letting me exist.

Rating: E pairing: Franjo von Allmen/Arnaud Boisset characters: Franjo von Allmen, Arnaud Boisset length: 1'500 words warning: pwp

Probably the biggest irony in life is how little a person can really learn from someone else’s experience. Arnaud remembers Justin’s bitterness a few years ago. He was still sitting at the kids’ table at the club championships then, sipping at a sickly-sweet ice cooler while across the room the older members stacked empty wine bottles as high as they could.

“Nobody fucking cares. They say they do, they promise they’ll look out for you when you come back, but it’s all a lie. You’re forgotten as soon as you’re out of their sight.”

Back then, Arnaud was at the very beginning of his career, done with school, armed with impressive results from youth championships, and ready to take on the whole world to fight for his place. He would not turn out like Justin.

Silence falls over the small garden of their chalet as the rest of the team disappears one after the other. Arnaud has pretended to follow them inside but now he stops by the door, and looks out into the night again. The bottle of beer in his hand is empty, the condensation on the glass has long since dried. When he leans against the weathered wood of the house he can feel the crinkly foil move in the pocket of his jeans. 

And now that Justin is singing an entirely different tune and is literally the life of every party, Arnaud finally agrees with his assessment from back then. People don’t care, especially people who hold your future in their hands. Sport is a business, and at the end of the day who you know matters more than what you do. 

Of course, Arnaud’s personality prevents him from shouting the anger in his heart from the rooftops; unlike Justin he bottles up his rage. He hides behind a shield of easy composure and good-natured humor, even as he prepares for another year on the second rung with only empty promises for the future.

In the house, someone turns off the light in the kitchen, dousing the patio where Arnaud is standing in darkness. Only further ahead the light shining out of the open windows on the first floor illuminates the sickly grass. Ralph is calling his family, his voice sometimes closer, sometimes further away as he walks through his room. A TV is babbling faintly from somewhere.

Quiet steps approach from the living room, and come to a halt at the threshold. Arnaud can see the bright smile even in the almost-darkness, the corners of his mouth that turn upwards as if drawn by a child, and the eyes that form two mirthful half-moons. 

“Not tired yet?” Franjo whispers.

They have been exchanging looks all week long, furtively in the beginning but soon unashamedly frank. Arnaud knows the weight of these hazel eyes by now, and even though they have known each other for five days he understands when he is happy or tired, or scared like now. Slowly he pushes away from the wall, and puts the bottle on the table in front of him. He does not have to speak, barely has to extend his hand for Franjo to step outside. They are equally tall but Franjo’s shoulders are hunched, and the almost palpable mixture of fear and excitement makes him seem smaller than he is. His breath hitches when their lips touch, and Arnaud follows him as he flinches backwards. Everything about Franjo screams of inexperience, from his palms awkwardly resting against Arnaud’s chest to his lashes fluttering down on his cheeks as he checks again and again whether he is doing things right. 

He is as young as Arnaud was when he listened to Justin’s rant that did not concern him in the slightest. Back then nothing could have made Arnaud admit fear to anyone, not even to himself. A small part in Arnaud’s brain realises it is up to him to recognise when he is going too far but that job gets exceedingly difficult with every flinch, every breathless sigh falling from Franjo’s lips. Arnaud’s kisses are sloppy, his tongue darting over Franjo’s mouth and between his teeth because he just cannot get enough of him, not after that long week watching Franjo in all states of exertion and tight clothes. A first sound, high and barely audible, escapes Franjo when Arnaud’s hand grabs his chin, steadying his head and guiding his movements. He can feel the foil crinkling in  his pocket again when Franjo pushes him back against the wall, and the need pooling in Arnaud’s groin almost sends him to his knees. He needs to bend Franjo over the table and disappear in him entirely, he needs to explore every square inch of Franjo’s body with his lips, he needs to hear more of Franjo’s soft, breathless moans, he needs needs needs.

Above their heads, Elian suddenly bursts out laughing at something, and Franjo jerks out of Arnaud’s touch. His voice is close as he asks whether he should leave the window open. Gilles’ answer comes from deeper in their room, barely more than a soft rumble, and after a few moments, the aged hinges of the window creak as it gets tilted until it rests half-open. Arnaud grins, the rush of excitement surging through his body, and he keeps grinning as he steps to Franjo, and pins him against the table. He takes his head between his hands, losing himself in the big, pleading eyes staring back at him.

“Arnaud, we…” Franjo begins but Arnaud silences him with another kiss.

“Shh,” he whispers, their lips still touching. “We can’t let them hear.”

Another kiss to swallow the choked grunt as Arnaud grinds against Franjo’s rock-hard erection. His eyes are blown wide and as round as his mouth when Arnaud plants the lightest of kisses on his lips, the still obvious fear drowned out by the overwhelming need for Arnaud to go on.

“Quiet now!”

Franjo clings to the edge of the table, his knuckles as white as the stars above them, when Arnaud falls to his knees, and pulls his sweatpants down. His thighs quiver under Arnaud's touch, the muscles taut and protruding, and his dick has leaked dark patches through both layers of fabric. It is still flowing when Arnaud pulls his pants down, and when he rubs his thumb over the head and spreads the wetness all over his shaft, and when his knees almost buckle and the empty bottle on the table topples over.

“Sshhh!” Arnaud giggles, his hands wandering from Franjo’s thigh over his hips and further to his hand clamped to the edge of the table. Franjo is breathing heavily through his nose, and biting down hard on his lip.

“Touch me!” Arnaud whispers, and taps his finger against his unmoving hand. “Come on!”

Slowly, as if under great agony, Franjo manages to unfurl his hand, and Arnaud guides it until it is buried in his hair just right. With a satisfied hum he takes Franjo in his mouth and runs his tongue over the leaky spot. Franjo groans, short and low, the grip around Arnaud’s hair gets tighter, and his hips jerk forward. Arnaud swallows the warm, salty liquid pooling in his mouth, relaxes his jaw to take all of Franjo, and sucks eagerly as his dick hits the back of his tongue. Above him, Franjo is hunched over, the hand gripping Arnaud’s head following his movements with just the tiniest bit of force. Low grunts escape from his throat and he is panting heavily now, his mouth hanging open.

“Arnaud…” he whispers. “Fuck…”

Arnaud hums again. Franjo’s dick is heavy and large in his mouth with still enough left to wrap his hand around the bottom, and the thought about all the things he will do with him once they have more time and more space makes his own abandoned cock twitch. It does not take long, not with a barely twenty-year-old and Arnaud’s skills, before Franjo falls over the edge and with a choked moan comes in spurts. Arnaud swallows eagerly around Franjo’s dick until he pulls back, and slumps against the table. A thin thread of drools keeps connecting them, and Arnaud grins when Franjo, still heaving, wipes his thumb over his wet chin. Slowly he rises from the ground, pressing their bodies together once more even as Franjo flinches back from Arnaud’s lips and the remains of his own spunk in the corners. He grabs Franjo’s hands from his waistband, and holds them by the wrists.

“Not tonight,” he whispers hoarsely against Franjo’s cheek. “Once I’m done with you, you’ll be in no shape to get back in a room with Lars.”

Franjo shudders but grinds his hips against Arnaud’s aching dick. “He’s asleep by now, he won’t see me.”

Arnaud snorts softly, combs back the long strands of Franjo’s bangs back, and plants a kiss on his temple. 

“When you hear the shower through the walls in a few minutes, just know that I’m thinking of you.”

Franjo stays glued to the table when Arnaud leaves him, and feels his way through the dark living room. The wrapper in his pocket crinkles again when he climbs the stairs. He runs his fingers over the smooth foil. There will be plenty of time to use it still.

[garbag3medi4]

why can social media be so depersonalizing?

(art by vewn, from “kittykat96” on youtube)

lately i’ve been thinking about what the old internet used to be like, before everything was about trends and clicks and engagements. being a kid raised on the internet gave me the chance to find some pretty unique media. indie movies, international shows, web series, fanfics and web novels that not only shaped my personal style as an artist, but also exposed me to a unique range of themes and storylines that helped me learn more about myself in ways i never expected to. but what happens when you log off and you lose that connection. even worse, you don’t know anyone around you that knows what you’re talking about or can relate to anything on your mind? even WORSE, what happens when the art you love or the websites you frequent disappear forever?

there’s this quote by Chuck Klosterman I think about a lot. it goes like this:

“art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.”

I think that when I was younger, when the internet was a creative free for all instead of something driven by the fear of oblivion, the majority of the content I engaged with was art. after all, I started off as a tumblr kid. back in the day, this place was like a digital asylum for creatives without a physical canvas or creatives that didn’t really know they were creatives yet. kids obsessed with art that hadn’t found it in them to make their own yet. I think that the “shadow artist” phase is an important step in any creative’s journey. that’s what I call the phase where you’re so obsessively passionate about the media you love. you pour yourself into analyzing every detail, writing thinkposts about your favorite characters like it’s your job and soaking up every inch of it like you’re trying to commit it to memory. all because your soul is begging you to make something of your own, something that can hold all the parts of you that aren’t so easily expressed in your everyday life. but the thing about the modern internet is that there’s no space for what’s unique to us because people don’t want to see themselves in what they can’t relate to or understand. they only want to see themselves in what they like.

our social media feeds are run by AI powered algorithms called recommender systems. these work by showing us content that is similar to what we’ve liked in the past. In some cases, it uses data from our past interactions to predict what content will keep us online for longer. the goal isn’t to engage us in something we’re passionate about anymore. It’s to distract us for as long as possible with cheap dopamine hits so social media companies can gain money from our clicks and engagement. this results in our social media feeds becoming like funhouse mirrors that reflect a distorted version of us back to ourselves, a version of us that we often can’t recognize or identify with. we’re not shown content that helps us grow in the direction we’re trying to head in. we’re shown content that keeps us stuck in the version of us from a few weeks ago that wanted to watch a couple cat videos or something.

it’s even worse when we try to post. to be successful on the internet, your account NEEDS validation. likes, comments, everything like that. but the algorithm will only push your content if you subscribe to its confusing, ever changing rules or copy what’s trending. we’re basically told that it’s not enough to post what you like or create what you want to see. you have to perform what everyone else is interested in to get anywhere. or at least, what the algorithm assumes everyone else wants to see, which is usually what is already popular or trending. when we’re constantly funneled into niches and limited to the opinions of others, where do we get the chance to create the things that matter to us, regardless of whether it goes viral or not?

one of the reasons i chose to make a blog on here is the middle school nostalgia. despite being on this site during one of the cringiest eras i’ve ever had, the fact that you can post and reblog so many different things in different formats gave me a place to showcase all the stuff I loved. coming back to it as a creator feels like coming full circle. the second reason is that ever since the Great Tumblr Exodus of 2018, i feel like no one is on here anymore. that means there’s no pressure to curate my feed to someone else’s approval. it’s a corner of the internet that’s truly my own.

[starberryshuu]

Luca’s Search for Julie’s Online Trace… and His Sudden Awakening

Luca was determined.

Julie had to have some kind of online presence.

He refused to believe that someone as chaotic, as weird, as dangerously unpredictable as Julie could just… not exist on the internet.

Phase 1: The Hunt Begins

Luca started with the usual methods.

✅ Google? Nothing useful. ✅ Facebook? Too many Julies. ✅ Instagram? No luck. ✅ Reddit? No shot.

But Luca was a professional.

He dug deeper.

He scoured the web like a man possessed.

And after hours—hours—of searching…

There.

On Google’s 184th page.

Buried under useless links and ancient archives.

A single record.

Phase 2: The Discovery

Luca squinted at the screen.

"NURSING BOARD EXAM PASSER: Li, Julie Ann.”

…

…

…

Hold on.

Nurse?

NURSE?!

Phase 3: The Existential Crisis (and Something Else)

Luca sat back. Stared at the ceiling.

Then slowly, painfully, dangerously—his brain took him somewhere it absolutely should not go.

A nurse’s uniform.

Julie in a nurse’s uniform.

A short nurse’s uniform.

That slightly smug, slightly annoyed look on her face as she adjusted her glasses, clipboard in hand—

"Luca, you need to rest."

"But nurse," Luca purred in this very illegal scenario, "I think I'm feeling worse. Maybe you should… take care of me?”

Julie sighing, exasperated, before leaning in closer—

"Luca. I swear to god."

He shook his head violently. NOPE. NOPE. SHUT IT DOWN.

This is getting dangerous.

Phase 4: The Reality Check

Julie walked into the room, oblivious to whatever sinful crisis Luca was currently experiencing.

She popped open another boiled egg.

Luca turned to her, shaken.

Julie: “…What?” Luca: “…You’re a nurse?”

Julie froze.

A rare look of genuine discomfort flashed across her face.

She didn’t want to talk about it.

She hadn’t practiced in over ten years.

She didn’t want to remember.

Didn’t want to think about the time she lost a patient and something in her broke.

Julie: “So what if I was?”

Luca: “…You never told anyone.”

Julie: “Because it’s not important.”

But it was.

Not because she was a nurse.

But because it was Julie.

Julie, who never spoke about her past. Julie, who refused to let people know who she used to be. Julie, who would rather choke on boiled eggs in Chamber’s office than risk revealing anything personal.

Luca wanted to say something.

But instead, he exhaled. Let it slide.

Julie: “…Why do you look like you just found out I was an alien?”

Luca, blinking: “No reason.” Definitely not because I imagined you in a nurse outfit and now I need therapy.

Julie, suspicious: “…Right.”

She walked away.

Luca?

Luca just sat there.

Staring into the abyss.

And the abyss whispered back:

"You're going to hell, my friend."

******************

Luca: The Cyberstalker Arc Continues

Luca couldn’t stop.

Now that he had a lead, there was no turning back.

Julie had social media.

She had accounts.

She had secrets.

And Luca was going to find them.

Step 1: The Great Digital Excavation

Armed with her full name, Luca dove into the abyss of the internet like a man possessed.

He started with the obvious places.

✅ Facebook? A dozen different Julie Lis. Too many. ✅ Instagram? Same issue. ✅ Twitter? Also useless.

But Luca was no amateur.

He cross-referenced. Dug through old archives. Used forgotten usernames and email breadcrumbs.

And then…

Jackpot.

Step 2: The Findings

One by one, Julie’s hidden accounts unfolded before him.

🟢 A very private Instagram account. Only a few followers. Mostly food pics, blurry dog photos, and the occasional "I hate everything" caption. 🟢 A 2012 Tumblr blog. Full of anime reblogs, deep existential quotes, and posts about cursed nursing school experiences. 🟢 A Twitter account. Mostly angry rants about past jobs, random thoughts at 3 AM, and a lot of "delete later" tweets. 🟢 An ancient DeviantArt. Luca nearly choked when he saw Julie’s middle school anime art phase. 🟢 A Pinterest account. Absolutely STACKED with random aesthetic boards:

"I want to disappear into the forest."

"Pastel things because life is suffering."

"Men I would kill for." (He saw his name there. What the fuck.)

Step 3: The Forbidden Knowledge

The deeper Luca went, the more cursed the discoveries became.

Julie had been online for years.

She had jokes from 2011 that made no sense. She had half-written fics on AO3 (why the hell was she writing self-insert romance stories??) She had one-star reviews on restaurants that disappointed her. She had a board titled “KILL ME” that was just screenshots of bad nursing schedules.

She had been everywhere.

And yet, no one ever knew.

She had been a ghost.

Until now.

Step 4: The Consequences

Julie, blissfully unaware, continued existing.

Luca, meanwhile, was spiraling.

"What have I done?" "Why do I know this much?" "Why do I feel like I just unlocked Julie DLC content?"

And most importantly:

"How do I unsee her middle school Naruto OC fanart?"

…

…

…

He couldn't.

He was in too deep.

And he would never recover.

*******************************

Luca’s Descent into Madness (a.k.a. Scrolling Through Julie’s Entire Instagram at 2AM)

Luca had seen things.

He had stalked—no, researched—Julie’s Facebook.

And it was already a revelation.

She wasn’t some awkward, quiet girl afraid of people. She wasn't the passive bystander she pretended to be.

She was Julie Unleashed.

🔥 Roasting people in comment sections. 🔥 Dropping memes like a goddamn internet warlord. 🔥 Posting random cursed links that nearly gave him a heart attack. 🔥 Fighting idiots online for sport—and winning.

And then there were the photos.

10.

In 15 years.

Half of them weren’t even posted by her.

So naturally, Luca had to dig deeper.

And Then, He Found Her Instagram.

1,000+ posts.

A goldmine.

He braced himself.

And then he started scrolling.

The Breakdown:

🟢 Julie’s Personal Photos:

20 photos of her.

2 whole selfies.

The rest? Julie with animals.

🐶 Dogs. (Expected.)

🐱 Cats. (Fine.)

🐄 A COW.

🐐 A GOAT?!

🦎 A FUCKING LIZARD?!?!?!?

🟢 The Sky Collection:

Dozens, maybe hundreds of sky pictures.

Taken from the same angle, from her window.

Different colors. Different moods.

Random captions like:

“Grey sky. Disgusting.”

“The sky looks edible today.”

“If you look too long, it looks like it’s moving.”

“God why is it so bright STOP.”

🟢 Food.

Stuff she cooked.

Stuff she didn’t cook.

Random snacks.

A full aesthetic photoshoot of a single boiled egg.

🟢 Her Desk (Multiple Locations Edition).

Desk in the Philippines.

Desk in her office.

Desk filled with SHINY things.

Gifts from Iso.

Gifts from Chamber.

Yoru’s jacket…that she bedazzled.

…Wait.

Hold on.

Yoru’s jacket…that she bedazzled.

Luca had to take a moment. A long moment.

Because what the fuck.

And Then He Saw It.

📍 A photo.

Him.

Luca.

Taken on his first day in the Protocol.

Back when he was still silent, mysterious, unreadable. Before he started openly flirting with her. Before he invaded her space at every opportunity.

A candid shot.

Nothing special.

Just him, standing in the training area, looking completely unapproachable.

But she had posted it.

And now, Luca was experiencing a crisis.

Luca’s Current Status:

🔴 Existential Dread: [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 🟢 Turned On by the Nurse Reveal: [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 🔴 Jealous of a Fucking Goat: [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 🟢 Questioning Reality: [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 🔴 Falling Even Deeper? [■■■■■■■■■■] Fucking MAX.

Final Thought:

Luca wanted to say he regretted this deep dive.

That he felt ashamed of the ridiculous amount of time he spent combing through Julie’s digital footprint.

But he didn’t.

Because now?

Now he knows.

And now?

Julie is never escaping him.

*********************************

Luca's "Apocalypse Unleashed" Announcement (a.k.a. The Dumbest Emergency Meeting in Protocol History)

Luca stormed in.

Breathless.

Face wild-eyed.

A man possessed.

"GUYS. HOLY SHIT. IT HAPPENED."

The Room:

Iso: 🥢 Eating noodles. Not impressed.

Yoru: 🎧 One earbud in, glaring. Already annoyed.

Chamber: 🍷 Casually sipping wine, unbothered as hell.

Brimstone: 🏋️ Trying to enjoy one goddamn minute of peace.

Luca: "SHE'S A FUCKING NURSE."

Silence.

A long, painful silence.

Then, Yoru sighed. Iso slurped his noodles. Chamber exhaled like he was listening to a child’s tantrum. Brimstone considered retiring early.

Then—

"Yeah, we know."

Luca.exe Has Stopped Working.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"EXCUSE ME???"

The Casual Confessions:

Iso: "Found out when she patched me up a few months ago."

Yoru: "She stitched my arm once. Didn’t think it was a secret."

Chamber: "Mon chéri’s touch is precise. It was obvious."

Brimstone: "She’s on the official records, dumbass."

Luca's Next Breakdown:

"OKAY, BUT LISTEN—"

Now he had no choice.

He had to go deeper.

He had to unleash the second bomb.

"—HER INSTAGRAM. HER FACEBOOK. HER SKY PICTURES. HER FOOD. HER FUCKING GOAT."

The Second Wave of Disappointment:

More silence.

Then—

Iso: "Yeah, we all follow her."

Yoru: "She’s been posting skies forever, dumbass."

Chamber: "Did you really think you were the first one to see this?"

Brimstone: "You’re the last one, actually."

Luca’s Crisis—Final Stage:

This wasn’t a new discovery.

It was a Luca-exclusive late pass.

THEY. ALL. KNEW.

AND. THEY. DIDN’T. TELL. HIM.

The Aftermath:

Luca just stood there. Processing. Mind blank.

They let him have his moment.

Then, one by one, they left.

Brimstone went back to lifting. Chamber returned to his wine. Yoru shoved his earbuds back in. Iso took his noodles and walked out.

And Luca?

Luca sat down, staring at the floor.

Completely.

Utterly.

Devastated.

[boofckenhoobitch]

In Another Life - Sparrow! Ben x Reader

A/N: I haven't wrote fanfics/oneshots in so long lmao but I am way too attracted to Sparrow Ben so i have to. Though please forgive me if the style is weird since I used to write on Wattpad a lot so Tumblr format is still something I’m trying to learn lol so bare with me pls and ty and hope you like my writing!

P.S : Let me know if you want a part 2 for the morning after because I thought about it but I don’t seem to have any ideas on how to turn ideas into words lol

Pairing : Sparrow! Ben x Reader (female pronouns)

Word Count : 2500+ (I’m too lazy to separate it into 3 parts so I apologize)

Warning: nothing special, a make out scene, mentions of death

Y/N has the ability of intangibility, it allows her to phase through physical matter. With Y/N’s ability, she was the only one able to survive the first apocalypse. 15 year old Five found her and they spent other 30 years together before Y/N died due to sickness; meaning that Five had lived a whole life with Y/N, only to go back in time and face the Y/N who lived in the present, a week before the apocalypse strike. Five would sometimes tell her stories of them together in the apocalypse and Y/N would just be a good listener and listen along.

You never asked for much in life.

Growing up, you learned not to ask for much given the background of your family. The most that you asked for was for your siblings to stay together as a family, and to have the chance to grow old with the love of your life, Ben.

It’s funny how you didn’t get neither.

With the disappearance of your second favourite sibling, Five then the death of your boyfriend, your family just stopped giving a shit. Missions stopped mattering, people grew more distant and it was everyone for themselves. Your siblings left the house one by one, and eventually you did as well.

There were times where you would try to meet up with your siblings after your departure, doing your best to still connect with them.

Especially Klaus when he was out of rehab, you always tried to meet up with him. You would always ask him if Ben’s with us, asking him questions about Ben and trying to see if Ben said anything back, but Klaus’ answers were always a slurry of nos, along with side comments about anything unrelated.

Eventually you realized that Klaus only really agreed to meet up with you because he needed money from you for more drugs and alcohol, and you stopped trying with your hopeless brother.

Without your brother’s ‘help’ to pass on words from the dead, you eventually gave up. Perhaps that was better for the both of you, as you two were never meant to be.

-

Life is a cruel mistress as one would say.

After saving the world twice, you really thought that for once in your life, you would be rewarded for the good deeds you had done. Instead, you had to hear your sister tell you that Ben had finally passed on, and that he would love you for the rest of his eternity.

It was heartbreaking that those were his last words to you.

And yet here he is, standing in front of you alive and breathing.

God, if you weren’t in shock, you would’ve socked this man in the jaw for toying with your emotions like that.

“Dad, who the hell are these assholes?” Ben asked Reginald. His eyes scanned the group of the Umbrella siblings before his eyes stopped at you, who was standing at the back of the group, already staring at him with a shocked expression.

“ Y/N?”

His voice brought back a sense of nostalgia, like how your Ben used to whisper your name when you cuddled in his bed, or how your Ben would call out your name with a sense of playful annoyance when you teased him; but he’s not here anymore and this is not your Ben, shown by the roughness of his voice.

His other siblings all stared at you from the second floor railing in shock, surprised that you're alive and siding with the enemy.

Ben froze up, and Marcus stepped in as Number One to take control of the situation. After Klaus’ sad attempt to hug Ben along with the many insults and taunts being thrown to each other, a fight broke out between the two groups (and sadly it wasn't a dance battle).

After fighting some of the Sparrow siblings, somehow you ended up in front of Ben. You both stared at each other in a stand off, you could see the conflicted emotions that swarmed behind his eyes. Hell, maybe he could see yours as well.

Both of you felt reluctant to fight one another yet with a sense of suppressed anger, both of your burning stares slowly toughened. You both stood in front of each other, strangers to one another.

You were the first to swing at him, breaking the tension between you both. Your fist collided with his cheek, his upper body turned to the side with the force. Clutching his slowly bruising cheek, he looked back at you hurt or maybe betrayed? You didn’t care as your own mind was clouded with anger. There was a small pause in both of your movements before his eyes hardening, and he lunged at you.

A tentacle sprung out of his chest, wrapping itself around your wrist. Though it was weird, you missed the weird slimy yet smooth texture of his tentacles. You phased your hand through the tentacle sending a chill down Ben’s spine, as he felt the coldness of your ghostly wrist pass through him. You both fought fiercely, attacking and dodging.

Perhaps the held back emotions you both had finally found a healthy release.

You retreated after seeing your siblings’ defeat, with Marcus’ threat and Ben’s lingering stare on you.

You wished to never see him again.

You hoped that you would never have reopen that closed wound again.

———

The second time you met him was when you went out for a jog with your dumb yet lovable brother, Luther.

Your brother, lost in his own world next to you as you both jogged with the same pace.

Slowly, you felt a presence around you, or above you? Your head snapped up, spotting a few ravens flying as they landed on lamp post and park benches around you, they all stared and observed you. Sensing the danger around you, you tugged on your brother’s shirt as you picked up your pace from a jog to a sprint. The ravens swooped and flew towards you two, they cawed loudly as Luther let out a yelp and turned around, running away from you as the birds chased after him.

Seeing the birds and Christopher, the floating box followed your brother, your sprint slowed as you stared at your brother’s retreating form, trying to catch your breath.

Then suddenly, a sharp pain at the back of your head and darkness.

Ben reached out to grab you before your body hit the floor. His glance softened at your unconscious figure and lifted your body in his arms. His siblings, Fei and Sloane watched him with unspoken pity, knowing how much you their Y/N meant to him before her death.

“ Make sure to catch that big oaf.” He ordered as he turned around, making his way back to the Sparrow Academy with you passed out in his arms.

-

You blinked away the blurriness as you sat up in an unfamiliar room.

The walls were filled with photos and as you slowly walked towards them to observe them, you can see that they are mostly of you and Ben.

The you in the photos looked different, a lot kinder and more gentle, she smiled a lot bright and so did Ben. Photos of you two on a picnic, napping together, sneaked photos of one another, or photos where either of you were trying to cover your faces with a smile. It’s weird seeing yourself living another life you have no memories of.

Your eyes stopped on one last photo. The photo was slightly covered and hidden under the other brighter photos, a photo of you standing in front of the sunset on a grassy field. Your features were hidden due to the brightness of the sun behind you, but you can see that you were laughing. Your silhouette looked so happy, reaching a hand out towards the photographer.

“ That was the last photo I took of her.” You looked back to see Ben leaning against the doorframe. Your eyes returned to the photo before covering the photo up like how you found it.

The silence was deafening.

“ How… How did she die?” You finally decided to ask, breaking the silence. Ben stayed quiet as the longing look eyes left and the cold look returned. His posture straightened out and his voice toughened as his head turned to look at you.

“ Come downstairs, my family wants to talk to you and your brother.”

Then he left.

———

Honestly after Ben let you and Luther go in exchange for Marcus, you really really thought you wouldn’t see them again. After all, the deal seemed simple enough and you have no need of seeing them again.

But life never gives you what you want.

So here you are, at Sloane and Luther’s wedding as the world outside slowly get sucked into a black hole. The happy couple danced with each other, as everyone either joined them on the dance floor or sat around the venue, eating and drinking away.

You were on your sixth cocktail, sipping away with a tired drunken look in your eyes. You looked around at everyone having a good time as your eyes landed on Ben who was sitting alone by himself, hunched over the table in front of a bunch of… shrimp?

Curiosity got the best of you so you made your way over in your maroon dress. As you sat down next to him, his head slowly lifted up from his arms, and let out a loud burp.

“ How… Charming.” You said as you looked at the man who once always had his guard up.

“ Ten people. Ten people left and they didn’t invite me to their stupid bachelor party.” Ben said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“ Well you didn’t make yourself a very welcoming person, so I get it.” You reply, letting out a laugh into your drink as you went for another gulp. A hand latched on to your wrist as you turned your head to look at an upset Ben.

“ Why don’t they like me?”

“ Because you’re an asshole, and you’ve been nothing but rude to them, so why would they like you?” You laughed as your finished your drink, his hand slipping from the motion of your hand.

“ Why don’t you like me?” That’s when your laughter died down and you stared at Ben, who was already looking at you. You let out a sigh, looking back into your now empty cup.

“ I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate. You just…”

“ Remind you too much of him?” You never told Ben about your relationship with the other Ben, but it was rather obvious how you two were together in your timeline while he was with you in his timeline. You simply smiled bittersweetly at Ben.

“ Sometimes, but in different way.”

“ How so?”

“ Ben was always so annoying. A nerd and a party pooper. He’s like a tiny gray cloud on a sunny day.” You laughed at yourself, knowing if he was still here he would’ve pushed you jokingly for those comments.

“ Those are all bad things…” Ben replied, confused at your choice of words.

“ Yeah… and he was the best thing that ever happened to me.” You smiled, recalling all the old memories of you and him.

“ How… how did he die?” Ben finally asked after a short moment of silence.

“ I wasn’t there when it happened, which was the worse part of it all. I was sent away on a different mission, and when I came back? No one would look me in the eyes and tell me what happened. I had to force it out of Diego who told me vaguely what happened. None of them were willing to go in detail anyways, just called it the Jennifer incident.”

“ My Y/N… she died alone on a solo mission. Till this day, we still couldn’t find her body. I prayed that she was alive and was simply in hiding due to the circumstances of her mission, but that faith lead to nothing and I eventually had to face the facts. She’s gone.” Ben looked ahead, his eyes glossed over as he recalled the memories of himself crying over you, never returning to him again.

“ How was she like?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“ She was kind. Always so kind even if this kindness required her to sacrifice herself. She was stupid but she always looked for the best in people. After all, she saw the best in me.” Ben smiled to himself and you smiled with him.

“ Both of our better halves died and now we’re just left here, isn’t that just so sad.” You laughed as you went to go pour yourself another drink, perhaps to have fun, perhaps to drink your sorrows away, who knows?

The party continued in the back as you two who were sitting at the bar poured your hearts out to each other, drinking more drinks. The topic slowly changed through the night as you two went from talking about your dead ex lovers to your interests and funny stories of your life.

“ No stop, you did not fucking do that to her.” You laughed as you took another sip of your drink.

“ I did! I also blamed it on Alphonso so him and Jayme both got chores for a whole week as their punishment.” Ben laughed along with you as you propped your elbow on the table, holding your head up as you looked at him with half lidded eyes and a small smile on your face. The alcohol in your system slowly introduced a hint of sleepiness as you blinked slowly at the man. You let out a yawn.

“ Okay, I’m gonna head to bed.” You said as you stood up and stretched.

“ Tired already?” Ben asked, looking back at you with a tired smile.

“ Why? You gonna miss me?”

“ Maybe a little.” He smirked as you laughed. You reached out your hand to lightly pat his cheek as you slowly leaned forward, closer to his face. With a few inches left between you two, your eyes scanned his face as his eyes did the same with yours.

“ Goodnight Ben.” You whispered and kissed him on the cheek. You turned around and walked towards the elevator.

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open in front of you. After stepping in and choosing your floor, you leaned against the wall of the elevator, your eyes closed as you tried your best to stay awake. Suddenly, a hand stopped the doors right before they closed, making a noise that surprised you and your eyes to snap open. And there stood Ben, outside the elevator panting as he stared at you, his eyes so intense as a surge of energy suddenly filled your body and you stood up straighter, staring back at the man.

He headed straight to you at the back of the elevator, his hands found their way to your face as his mouth found its way to yours. Your mouths moved together in a unison while one of your arms hooked around the back of his neck, and your other hand reached up to grip his hair, lightly tugging his roots. He let out a groan as your bodies pressed closed to one another, grinding against each other.

The elevator dinged once again, your mouths separated from one another, slightly panting as you staring at each other with lustful eyes.

“ We take this back to my room?” You asked. You tilted your head and leaned into his hand, his fingers brushing your cheek while you played with his hair.

“ Sure.”

And you all know what happened next.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Death by Exposure

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: At first Danny had been worried sick that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom, but when no one believed him it had sort of become funny. Still, after the anti-ecto act, and the GIW, and his own parents very public very violently vitriolic screeds against ghosts, Danny had to wonder what he'd ever done to Wes that the guy would risk exposing Danny to all that. (from @hpwotters-blog, or at least I think that's you're tumblr.), and Wes Weston wakes up to find an injured Phantom on the fire escape. (from @half-deadmagicperson)

Other prompts that will be included in later chapters but aren't in this one:

With how much time he spends on basketball and his delusional conspiracy theories, no one would ever suspect that Wes Weston has another secret hobby… (from @kadziduo)

And Wes has been spending more and more time around Fenton and Co. lately - hey! he’s only trying to get some much-needed evidence against them, not trying to get all buddy-buddy with them. And anyway, they’re an entirely annoying bunch, so he wholeheartedly blames them for the fact that he’s currently being monologued at by the ghost holding him hostage. (from @a-closet-emo)

Chapter 3: Expostulate

AO3 Link

[Warnings for blood (ectoplasm), severe injuries, implied abuse]

Danny was desperately clinging to consciousness when Wes' window slid open and the redhead poked his head out with a yawn. "Can whoever is making a racket at three in the goddamn morning kindly shut the hell up!?" he shouted. He started to pull his head back in and Danny, worried that Wes might not notice him, choked out his name.

"Wes," he said weakly, but it was enough to catch his attention.

The moment those green eyes landed on Danny they widened with utter horror. He looked like he might be sick. "Fenton?" 

"little... help?"

"Fuck! Yeah, okay, gimme a sec!"

Wes disappeared into his room, and Danny heard rustling like fabric. A moment later, Wes returned and climbed out onto the fire escape. Mindful of his wounds, he hoisted Danny up and got him through the window. He laid Danny on his mattress, which he'd completely stripped. Blankets, pillows and sheets were wadded up on the floor.

"I'll be right back, I gotta get the first-aid kit."

Danny didn't have the strength to respond, but now that he was safely out of danger where the G.I.W. wouldn't find him he could feel his healing kicking in. Without flying and hiding using up his energy, he was already beginning to recover somewhat. He laid back and tried to focus his eyes, taking in his surroundings. Wes' room had light blue walls. Unsurprisingly, one of them had a cork board covered in pictures of Danny, articles about Phantom, evidence that the two were linked, that they were the same. If the G.I.W. started doing home raids and saw that, Danny would be screwed.

There were stickers on the ceiling, old and peeling, some with neon colors and unicorns, skateboard stickers, a rainbow flag, price tags from fruit, a bumper sticker that said "My other car is a Maserati! Ha ha just kidding! I'm dirt poor," and another one that said, "baby on board," with a picture of a baby wearing a backwards baseball cap riding a skateboard. Danny might've laughed if he thought he could do it without choking on ectoplasm.

"I found it!" Wes returned with a red metal box and some towels. He stopped in the middle of his room staring at Danny. "Uh... so does the jumpsuit, like, come off?" he asked.

Danny let out a weak huff of laughter. "You've already got me... in your bed and now... you wanna get my clothes off, too?" he asked teasingly, the words slurring together slightly. "Don't you think... you're moving a little fast?"

"Very funny," Wes said flatly, rolling his eyes. Although, the joke seemed to shake him out of his terror somewhat, which was good. That, or he was really good at compartmentalizing. "At least you're not too badly injured for sarcasm. Now if you could phase off that butt-ugly jumpsuit so I can stop you from oozing all over my mattress, I'd appreciate it."

"Grab it and pull," Danny told him. Wes gripped the front of the jumpsuit and tugged while Danny made himself intangible so it could slip right off, leaving Danny laying there in ectoplasm soaked briefs on Wes' bed. Just that much exertion however was too much for him, and white rings of light flickered around his middle. Wes gasped when he finally saw the extent of the damage.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked breathlessly.

"Was helping some... blob ghosts," Danny answered. "The Guys 'n White caught up to me... on their patrol."

"They did this to you? Why?"

"'Cause they want me dead," Danny answered, scowling. "You were at that assembly a while back; you've... you've seen the propaganda posters. Did you think they were... running a catch-and-release program? A rescue shelter?" Wes got to work on Danny's leg first, mopping up the ectoplasm there with a towel so he could get to the wound.

"I didn't think they'd do this," he said quietly.

"What did I ever do to you?" Danny asked. He didn't want to piss off the person helping him, but he couldn't stop himself from asking. "What made you start this... beef with me?"

"I care about the truth. I think it's important."

"More important than my life?"

"What life? You're a ghost."

"I'm not a normal ghost," Danny said. "I thought you, of all people, would've... figured that out by now." Wes didn't respond, just opened up an alcohol wipe and started cleaning the wound on Danny's leg.

Danny didn't flinch even once while Wes patched his leg up, disinfecting and pressing gauze over the wound and wrapping it in bandages. He did so very calmly, his hands surprisingly steady, like he'd had a lot of practice. 

"I wasn't thinking about what would happen afterwards," Wes admitted as he finished securing the bandage. "I just wanted people to believe me."

"I don't think you were thinking at all," Danny said as Wes propped him up to clean the wounds on his back. "I mean, fuck, one of your theories is that... I'm like this because my parents experimented on me. I'm pretty sure everyone... in town has heard them threaten to rip me apart molecule by molecule.... What do you think would happen to me if they found out?"

"Okay, but that theory was low on the list," Wes defended, "and the more likely theory was that they were in on it and hunting you was a cover."

"They shoot at me any time they see me!" He tried to turn to glare at Wes, only to get a smack on the head.

"Quit moving!" Wes snapped. "I gotta disinfect." Danny clenched his teeth as he felt the sting of alcohol in the wounds on his back.

"How d'you know how to do this, anyway?" Now that the worst of the bleeding, from his leg, was stemmed, Danny was recovering even faster. His body could regenerate blood and ectoplasm without immediately losing it. He was able to speak more or less clearly now, and he didn't feel like he was about to pass out.

"Kyle skateboards, and he's an idiot," Wes answered. "I used to, too, but not so much anymore. He still bribes me sometimes to patch him up before Dad finds out he's injured, so that he won't get grounded for being reckless."

"Who's Kyle?"

"My twin brother."

"You have a brother?" Danny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had thought he knew Wes, after all the time they'd spent antagonizing each other, but he was realizing that he didn't really know anything about Wes outside of his constant insistence on outing Danny as a ghost. "How come I've never seen him around?"

"I have two brothers, actually," Wes told him. "And you probably have seen him around. You just didn't realize because we're not identical. The other one's off at college in New York."

"Are you the older twin, or the younger twin?"

"What does it matter? We're twins."

"So the younger twin, then." Wes smacked his head again.

"Maybe stop being such a dick when I'm patching up your nasty ass ghost injuries, yeah?" Soft gauze pressed against on of the wounds on his back and Wes started wrapping bandages again. Halfway down, Wes put down more gauze for the second wound and kept wrapping. "Why did you come to me, anyway? Something happen to your actual friends?"

"They're both out of town for spring break," Danny responded. "Trust me, you were not my first choice. I wouldn't've come here at all if I wasn't completely desperate." Wes scoffed and finished bandaging the wounds on Danny's back, repositioning him to get better access to the last wound, on his side.

He cleaned it up in silence, and as he was applying disinfectant, he asked, in an uncertain voice, "Do you get hurt like this a lot?"

"I don't know about 'a lot'," Danny said, although Jazz's voice in his head told him often that if it happened more than once in his life, that would probably be considered a lot to most people. "It's been known to happen."

"How?"

"G.I.W. patrols, ghost fights, my mom's aim is actually pretty good, and sometimes I don't dodge fast enough," Danny said with a shrug, then winced at the way the movement tugged on his injuries.

"I told you not to move," Wes scolded, then, in a softer voice he asked, "Your parents have done this to you before?"

"Do you think I keep my identity a secret for my own entertainment?" Danny asked. "Most of the ghosts I fight know who I am already. They're obviously not the ones I'm worried about."

Wes finished disinfecting and pulled out another wad of gauze. "Fuck." Wes breathed out emphatically.

"What? Outta bandages?"

"No, it's just... this is making me realize just how much of an asshole I've been," he said, starting to wrap up the last wound. "I mean, I knew that I was being an asshole, honestly, but I didn't think it was this bad. It was what I had to do to get the truth out there."

"I guess maybe I should've called you out earlier, huh," Danny said. "In my defense, you were smart enough to figure out who I was, I thought you'd be smart enough to realize why I hid it in the first place. Seriously. Again, my parents shoot at me all the time."

"I thought it was an act!" Danny snorted. "Anyway, I guess," Wes glanced over at his conspiracy board. "I guess it's probably time to take that down, huh?"

"Wait... you mean you're actually giving up?" Danny couldn't help turning around to face Wes in his surprise, and cringed when it irritated his wounds. "Gah!"

"I told you to stay still!" Wes griped again, having to unwrap and re-wrap a section of bandages to keep them tight. "And no, I'm not giving up. One day, I'm personally gonna make sure everyone knows you're Phantom. But I never actually wanted you to get hurt, so... I'm revising my method."

"What's that mean?"

"It means my three step plan to expose you is more like a twenty-step plan now," Wes said with a sigh. "First, I gotta get the Guys in White out of here, then prove ghosts are sentient, and convince the government to repeal the anti-ecto acts, then convince the paranormal science community at large that ghosts aren't inherently evil, and eventually, when it's safe, I'm definitely gonna convince everyone you're Phantom."

Danny chuckled, then grunted in pain. "I'll tell you what, Wes," he said. "If you can change the world to that level, I'll show everyone I'm Phantom and prove it to them for you."

Tying off the last bandage, Wes nodded. "Deal," he said. "For now though, go to the bathroom and clean the rest of that gunk off you. I'll let you borrow some pajamas. It's the door at the end of the hall. Try not to get your bandages wet."

"Thanks, Wes," Danny said as the red-head handed him a gray t-shirt and some plaid pajama pants.

"Don't thank me yet," Wes said. "You're sleeping on the bed, on your stomach, and you don't get bedding."

"Why'd you strip your bedding anyway?"

"You think I'm gonna subject my poor dad to ectoplasm-stained sheets?" Wes scoffed. "No way. I'd be doing everyone's laundry for a month."

"Right, of course." Danny stepped out of Wes' room and into the hall, smiling.

Hearing about normal problems like that was kind of refreshing. When Danny didn't want to do chores, it was because they were dangerous for him, like cleaning his parents' lab. When his parents were mad at him, they threatened to dissect him, not to make him to the laundry. In comparison, Wes' problems sounded so trivial, and yet, Danny could still relate. He didn't like doing laundry either.

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[youmarin]

Carved Into Our Hearts | Minho x Reader!

A/N: Is The Maze Runner fandom dead? Turns out not as much as I thought it was (as I go through the Minho tag. There are posts from last yr so let's see if I'm not wrong). I watched the movies again after so long (I’m still traumatized by Newt’s death so that keeps me from watching them often) this weekend and as a result my obsession with this story returned. Whatever this is that I just finished writing down popped into my head today and I had to get it out. It is set before the maze so I made a bunch of shit up (I haven’t read the prequels so if we have more details of stuff before the maze they’re unknown to me). Also I don’t know how it never occurred to me to write for TMR  during my strong phase as a fan. It’s my first time writing for it since I know about fanfics, Wattpad, Tumblr, AO3 and all that - and I know about this since looong ago xd-. But here you have it. Surprises even me that I started the year by bringing this to my blog. And we’re starting with none other than Minho! Pls forgive me if this ain’t that good *covers her eyes*. Seriously, the toughest part was naming this T-T. 

Word count: +3.1K

Summary: After spending most of your childhood on a WICKED facility, you start to question your place in there once you reach your teens. This only increases when people start disappearing. Things turn even worse when you and your closest friend (and the boy you like) try to look for answers and come too close to uncover their objectives.

Genre: sci-fi, mystery, thriller. A dash of romance sprinkled there. It's angsty.

tw (Do I really need to put these if you know what the story is about? But just in case): Mental and physical abuse, drowning (?), death mention, cursing. idk if left smthn. 

You stared at the little boy across from you as you both sat in the small waiting room. Dressed in white, just like you, his black hair nicely trimmed covering his forehead. His arms crossed in front of his chest, he looked around, seemingly unhappy to be there. He noticed you looking, then looked towards the men in uniform that stood near every door and back at you. 

“Hey.” He whispered. 

“Hey.” 

“What’s your name?” he asked you.

“Y/N. What’s yours?” your big, curious eyes looked over at him expectantly. 

“I’m Minho.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Your dad had taught you that was what you said when you met someone. That, and to shake hands, but you didn’t dare to stand and walk over to him in case that would make the guards mad. You exchanged a smile instead. 

Then, the door to the lab opened and a woman came for you, taking you into the room. You looked over your shoulder as she nudged you inside and waved back at Minho. 

After that, he met with you in the equally white common room. He called you over to the table he sat on with other boys at the time of your meals and presented them to you. When he didn’t feel like sharing the attention of his new friend he’ll tell you to sit somewhere else and both of you would go to a separate table. One of the boys, the blonde boy, would stick out his tongue at you when Minho did that, making you giggle and as a result he’d grin before turning to his other dark haired friend and leaving you two alone. He’ll sneak into the girls section to get to your room sometimes, and you’ll talk and make up games. Before the guards made their rounds, he’ll hurry to sneak back to his room but not before wishing you a good night. 

As you grew, your relationship with Minho did too. You two were rarely away from each other, apart from when you slept, when they called you to the lab to run some tests or while you completed your assigned tasks - and even then, you’d glance at each other through the holographic screens and share a knowing smile.

The thing was, Minho had always been quite the problematic kid to the people who ran the place. It wasn’t a surprise when he reached his teens and got more rebellious, non-compliant and impulsive. You understood him, for each time things started to turn more and more suspicious. 

One day, you watched as he was pulled in by a guard into the common room. His eyes immediately searched for you, and when he did he smiled yet seeing the worried look in your eyes he hurried over to you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Another one of your friends was missing. You had asked one of the guards about it, but they just said they had to take him somewhere else. 

“It’s obvious they want something from us. The tests, the stupid stuff they make us do everyday. I’m getting tired of people pricking and prodding at my skin and all the beeps from machines.” He said, and honestly, you were too.

“But what can we do?” No one would tell you anything besides the same words: what you were doing there will someday help the entirety of humanity. But what the hell were you doing? What was going on outside? And where the hell were they taking the others? Would you end up there too? 

First, you tried entering into the information systems during the time you were supposed to work on your daily assignment. You eyed the guards subtly and Minho kept watch for the woman who supervised you. You thought some of the others were staring at you while you worked but told yourself maybe you were being paranoid.

“I couldn’t find anything. There’s no access from our stations.” You told him later that night when he snuck into your room. 

He muttered a curse, looking down as he thought of something else. Then the idea popped up in his head.There was a room where you saw the men and women dressed in white gowns disappear into every day. It was labelled with bold, white letters as ACCESS TO PERSONNEL ONLY.  You will sneak inside. But you needed a key. 

Before he could tell you, the heavy door opened and a guard was pulling Minho to stand up from your bed. 

“What the hell are you doing here, kid?” 

Minho shook away from the guard’s hold harshly. “Get your hands off me.” Then he pushed him.

The guard didn’t like that, and smacked Minho with his baton. That was the first time you saw a guard actually hit one of you, “Minho!” you rushed to his side as the boy stumbled. “What is wrong with you?” you sneered to the guard as you noticed the small cut on Minho’s temple. But the guard pulled him away from your grasp and out of your room. 

Ever since that day, the guards grew more aware of you two, surveilling your every move and doing everything to keep you apart.  But Minho noticed how  fatigued you looked each day when they brought you to the common room from the labs. He frowned, worried and frustrated to not be able to reach you. You weren’t even looking at him anymore. They had done something to you. 

Finally, one night he snuck inside your room again. Since they had taken away your “privilege” of having the doors unlocked, he had to look for another option: the vents. 

Startled by the sound of the lid of the vents hitting the ground and sliding on the floor from under your bed, you looked down from your position, your head upside down and your hair touching the floor. 

“Minho!” you exclaimed surprised and almost smiled before your expression denoted your concern, then it appeared to go blank, “You can’t be here.” you warned him as he slid out from under your bed. 

“Are you okay?” He ignored you, grabbing your face in his hands.

“You can’t be here.” he followed your worried gaze to the door. 

“It’s alright. Hey, hey, what have they done to you?” He kept inspecting you. You had dark circles under your eyes, and a far look on your face. When your gaze focused again on him, tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. 

“I thought they’d hurt you, but then I saw you back in the common room and you were alright.” 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“I couldn’t make out what was real and what wasn’t. I tried to protect you.” He didn’t understand what you meant. 

“I’m right here.” He tried reassuring you. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m right with you. I’m okay.” 

You brought your hands up to his face much like he had done earlier. It was real, he was okay. You noticed the small cut on his temple and brushed your thumb gently over it. Looking at him in the eye you smiled and he gave your forehead a kiss. 

“Listen. We’re going to find out what’s happening here, okay? ” He explained to you his plan. “And we’ll get out of here. We’ll get our friends, everyone out.” 

The next couple of days, Minho behaved himself, which got the guards and everyone pleased and as promised, he reached you again when he had succeeded in getting his hands on a key. 

You snuck into the vents and the corridors during the night, ducking to avoid the motion-activated lights placed every few meters on the walls. When you reached the end of the hall, you looked around to find the door you were looking for. Minho was about to lean to look when you extended your arm to prevent him from doing so. You placed your index to your mouth telling him to keep it quiet. Someone had come out of the room, the door locking after them. Thankfully, they went down another hall.  Next you were both dashing towards it. Minho grabbed the key and slid it on the door lock. When it gave you access, you pushed it open carefully. 

The room was dim litted, glowing a pale blue. There was more strange equipment inside, more holographic screens with pictures of people with records and stats at their sides, an entire wall of what looked like small safes, all of them locked. There were a couple of tables. You walked towards them as Minho glanced at the screens.

The table you loomed over was a smart table, displaying what seemed like the blueprints of a large building. More like a maze. You frowned, then heard Minho speak up, stealing your attention, “These are some of the guys that are gone.” He turned to look at you, confused over the discovery. 

“Are they okay?” You asked and went over to his side. Inspecting the screens, you were relieved to see most of them were, until you reached the last one and saw written in bold red font: DECEASED. You looked at each other, horrified. 

“Where do you think they took them?” He asked you and you turned to look at the smart table. He followed your gaze, “What-What the hell is that?” 

But as he started to make his way over it, you heard the boom from the door unlocking. Quickly, you grabbed his arm and pulled him with you to hide, cornered between the wall and the control panel under the screens. 

Minho crawled until he reached the other corner of the control panel, seeing a bigger screen appear at the end of the room, holograming a woman dressed  in all white just like them, who spoke to the person that had walked in, another woman. 

“How is the transfer process?” the woman asked. 

“We’ve reached halfway and have sent a considerable group already.” She tried to make it sound as if everything was going perfect. But the other woman, who seemed to be the one in charge, knew better.

“I’ve heard there’s been a couple of setbacks.” 

“Oh. yes. One-one of the subjects died this morning in an accident. Nothing to worry about. He wasn’t one of the brightest nor of the immune ones.”  

“What about y/n and the Minho boy?” You both grew even more wary, if possible, at the mention of your names.

“We’ve dealt with it. In fact the situation turned out to be beneficial. The tests we’ve run on her have come with promising results. Once she’s transferred I’ve no doubt the odds on her will increase. The boy is brilliant too, although he keeps growing more suspicious and uncontrollable ever since we avoid letting them be together. They influence each other too much.” She paused, thinking, before suggesting, “Should we send him next?” 

She considered it, “Not yet as long as he doesn’t create more trouble.” 

“We’ve been more cautious these past weeks in order to prevent any more incidents, but I assure you we’ll gradually resume to operate as usual.” 

Your eyes met, terrified. 

Managing to sneak out without getting caught, you started to panic once you reached your room safely.  Transfer? The image of the building you saw on the smart table was brought back to your head. Minho. They would send Minho away.

“Y/n?” He called for you for like the fifth time, shaking you a little, and you finally snapped back. 

You choked out. “They can’t send you away.”  Closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head refusing the sole idea, that’s when you noticed you had started to cry. What if you never see him again? What if he ended… You didn’t dare finish that thought. 

“Calm down. If they’re taking me anywhere, we’re both going. I’m never leaving you.” This time, he didn’t exactly believe the words coming out of his mouth. Judging by what they’d heard, they would send him to whatever that place was sooner or later anyway. Just thinking of being separated from you was killing him. Ever since that day when you were little kids and you had greeted each other, you’ve turned to be his entire world, the most important person after being separated from his family. He loved the friends he’d made here though, but it wasn’t the same type of love he felt for you. Minho realized as those thoughts flooded his mind, that you were more than a friend to him. He was in love with you. And this just terrified him more for what your futures would be like. A tear had managed to escape him. Seeing as you weren’t consoled by his false reassurance - he knew you were smarter than that- , he tried something else. He cupped your face as you sniffled, and you slowly looked up from the floor to his also teary eyes. He looked down at your lips. You noticed and nodded at him, giving him consent. Your eyes shut as your lips met in a tender kiss, as if he was scared you’ll both break, or that you would disappear when he opened his eyes. 

“I love you.” you said breathily once you pulled back and rested your forehead on his. 

“I love you.” Minho said back, “I love you.” 

“Promise me,” you started, “That if we get separated we’ll find each other again.” 

“They won’t separate us.” He tried again, stubbornly. 

You pulled back and when he opened his eyes he found you already looking at him, serious. “Promise me.” 

“Of course I promise.” 

“You won’t forget me.” 

“I’ll never forget you.” He kissed your forehead. 

The guards had stopped escorting you both away from each other a couple of days ago, but you still acted like you didn’t acknowledge each other. Minho had told you he would tell the others what you’ve seen and what you had heard. You needed as much help as possible if you planned to get out of that place. 

But one day all hell broke loose. You and Minho had noticed that it took them longer between each of the guys they took away. That’s what the woman was saying back in the room you sneaked in. 

They had started again. Today, Newt was missing. 

As Minho entered the room, you saw him throw a subtle glance over at you before getting to his table. “Where’s Newt?” He looked around, stranged. None of the boys could answer that for him. He scowled, standing up and so did you. No. no. no. 

“Where’s Newt?” He hurried over to one of the guards and stood up to him. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, kid.” 

“Oh, you don’t know?” he let out a dry chuckle. “You know, a blondie, about this tall.” 

“I said I don’t know. Return to your seat.” 

“I don’t want to. I want you to answer my fucking question.” Another guard came and tried to pull Minho away and back to his table. “Don’t touch me!” He punched the guard. 

“Minho!” you ran over to him as one of the guards punched him on his stomach making him double over.  “Don’t you fucking touch him!” You threw yourself at the guard that was about to hit him again. Another one pulled you away at the same time the other two grabbed Minho by his arms. 

“Let her go!” He struggled in their hold. They began to drag you out of the room going separate directions. You weren’t headed to your bedrooms. You knew what this meant. 

“Minho!” you screamed in a panic. You heard more struggle and grunts. Then he was punching the guard holding you. It was no use. More of them came. 

He was just able to grab your hands, frantic, before one of them hit you in the head and dragged you away, as he screamed and pushed and punched everyone in his path before he felt something sting him. The fight started to leave him, as his vision became spotted. Then his consciousness left him. 

You didn’t see him or any of the others the following day, nor the next, and the next, and the one after. They kept you in your room, bringing you meals you hardly touched, escorting you out to the showers, to the labs. They didn’t even give you tasks to do. Clearly they were assessing how bad the situation was. They sent a man to ask you some questions, wanting to know if you knew anything about their schemes. You gave them nothing and in return, they gave you hell. Only one thing came out of your mouth: What had they done to Minho. 

You saw him once as you got out of the labs, as they guided him out of one room to another, and you shrugged off the guard’s hold on you, sprinting and yelling his name. Drowsily, he raised his head and when finally your voice and the sight of you registered in his brain, he struggled to break free from the guards, yelling your name back. But they got to you before you could reach a section of the building you’ve never been to. 

You both had been put through so much, yet the worst part until then was soon to come. Given your uncooperative behaviour, they came up with the idea of giving things a twist, something they’ll exploit to their benefit. That night when they fetched you from your room, you didn’t know what was happening, what they were going to do to you now. 

They took you to a room with small compartments in which a person could fit, its doors made of glass. And there you saw him inside one of them, “Minho? Minho!” they had let you go, and you ran towards it. He couldn’t see you, nor hear you as he banged his fist on the door. It was a one way mirror. “What are you doing to him?!” You shrieked and then you both looked down, water coming up from orifices on the floor. Minho started screaming louder as dread took over him, and you helplessly watched and banged at the damn door, shouting for them to stop whatever they were doing. They were going to kill him. This wasn’t one of those illusions they made you go through before. They were going to kill him out viciously and you could only witness, unaware of why these horrible people were torturing you, why they were using all of you. They started to drag you away as the water reached his chin. You thrashed, screamed and cried for them to stop. And that was your last memory of him, and of you, before all of it vanished, ended, only to start again differently.

Part 1? (Edited 1/16/2023: Part 2 is out).

[kithtaehyung]

Last November (M)

title: last november (m) post date: december 14th, 2020, 8pm est  ⤷ revamped/extended: march 27th, 2021, 10pm est pairing: seokjin x reader(f) genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers au summary: you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place? warnings: angst, bad puns and jokes, mutual pining, light dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m/f receiving), nipple play, hair-pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, spanking, creampie, seokjin is a consent king, did i say angst?, did i also say bad puns and jokes? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ AO3 word count: 23.7k 24.7k !!

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On the last Friday of every November, your group of friends piled into two cars and set off into the mountains. 

Ever since you all graduated from high school years ago, everyone branched off into their individual, intricate walks of life. Different towns, different jobs, different social circles. 

But before those grand adventures started, each of you promised one thing: a yearly trip to keep the friendship alive.

This time around, you happened to be in the “decidedly more fun” car as Jimin, Taehyung, and your longtime friend Rin jammed the backseat with singing and road trip games. Since Seokjin took driver, you claimed navigator, leaving the front of the vehicle a bit muted compared to the other half. Which was fine - you always loved relaxing on the sidelines while your friends played with chaos and hilarity. 

Namjoon kept you company from time to time, too, so you weren’t completely alone in your preferred space.  

The only thing that could’ve made the ride awkward was if you and Seokjin were on bad terms. 

It wasn’t every day you found yourself sitting beside your ex, after all. 

But that simple fact didn’t phase you. The truth was that your breakup was clean and painless - a massive relief to your friends. Back then, it would have torn everyone to pieces picking sides. 

The split was so organic that you couldn’t recall an awful reason why it happened. Separation proved as natural as the changing of seasons: you had moved away for university and he powered through his own medical pursuits. Over time, the relationship simmered to a text every few days, resulting in the night in which you decided that it was better to remain friends.

What sucked was the fact that, over the course of time after the breakup, you fell for Seokjin. Annoying, charming, incredible Seokjin. 

You didn’t come to terms with it until last November, when you watched his eyes sparkle under an indigo ocean of stars and it just clicked. Agony carved into your heart some nights when you thought about nothing else, but you couldn’t admit your feelings. Not when you two decided that your river had run its course. You couldn’t risk smothering the last embers of your relationship, so radio silence remained your lonely swan song. 

Of course you wanted to admit it. You wanted to tell him. Because no matter who came after, they all fell short. Every smile flashed your way, every pair of arms wrapped around your torso, every night spent between the sheets. Nothing compared to what you got from Jin. That man created a hole in your heart that lingered in his wake, a hole through which all of your subsequent relationships plummeted. 

The truth was simple: you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Even if what you two would always be was just friends, that endgame was enough for you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Every night when you couldn’t sleep, and every morning when you woke up to an empty bed.

Your vision snapped into focus as your phone screen bloomed. The maps app signaled for a turn, so you relayed the direction to Seokjin, who repeated the direction out loud before following through.

Just like always.

The road in front of you melted into a different scene entirely as you recalled why he started that habit. It sprouted from one of your car rides to a diner situated on the other side of your hometown. 

During the drive, you did your best as navigator, but your boyfriend was so into the music playing that he missed some turns. One errant right later had you both terribly lost, the surrounding area swallowing the car in darkness. On instinct, you dove into defense mode, trying and failing not to outright panic.

“My maps won’t load,” you stuttered, hitting the screen with your finger, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Don’t worry, I can just—”

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” you bit out. “Let’s just get out of here.” You hated how pure paranoia pricked at the corners of your eyes. Getting lost was completely irksome and going back home was more appealing to you than moving forward with the date. 

“Okay. I won’t,” Seokjin assured you, turning the wheel and rolling the car out from the shadowy street. “How can I help instead?”

“Oh, umm.” With grateful eyes, you stared at your boyfriend and admired his consideration. You’ve never been asked that while upset before. “You could, uh, repeat the directions before following them? That might help.” 

His lips curved into a smile, and streetlights flooded the car to bathe his sincerity in a warm glow. “Repeat directions, you got it.”

The memory faded as you blinked and observed the endless mountain range enveloping the road. Snow topped the summits in white caps; coniferous trees swallowed the steep slopes. As if reminiscence clogged your ears, the music in the car seemed louder outside your broken reverie. 

Taehyung, as always, took charge of the aux. He usually had an eclectic mix of tunes on rotation but, that time, nothing but upbeat Christmas music was queued. You had to admit: merry music coating the car windows and mountainous scenery claiming your entire vision put you in the best mood. 

It was even better when Seokjin sang along. You really did like his singing voice. 

“I like my singing voice, too.” 

Your eyes snapped toward the driver, expression freezing over as you drank in his delight. Did you really say that out loud? You knew Seokjin enough to know that he was never going to let that go. 

“Yeah, well…” You lazily swatted his grin away. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

Seokjin chuckled, his hands comfortably resting on the wheel. “Are you offering to do that for me? It’s minimum wage, but I’d hire you.”

Rolling your eyes felt like the only appropriate response, so you did exactly that, your exasperated gaze looping around to land on your phone. “Relish this moment, Seokjin,” you advised, zooming out in the maps app to make sure you were still heading in the right direction, “Because it won’t happen again. And take the next exit. We’re almost there.” 

“Yes, yes, next exit.” You missed the smirk on his face as he scanned the roadside for the telltale sign. “Moment relished,” he quipped, “But I prefer my moments with ketchup and mustard.” 

Your groan drowned in his boisterous laughter, but the hand on your face betrayed you since it couldn’t quite cover up the glee that formed right after. 

An hour later, everyone had unloaded the vehicles at the campgrounds and pitched the tents. While Hoseok and Jungkook worked on starting the fire pit, Namjoon and Jimin took their time organizing the food and snacks. Rin had disappeared with Taehyung somewhere, but Yoongi said he spotted them taking pictures a ways off. 

“They should be helping,” he muttered. “There’s a lot to do before it gets dark out.” 

Squatting down to rotate sizzling meat on your portable grill, you waved him off. “They’re shot-swapping since it’s golden hour.” 

The silence that followed gave you pause. When you looked up in curiosity, Seokjin and Yoongi regarded you like a foreign language coated your tongue, their struggle to decipher it earning a chuckle of pity. 

“They’re both huge influencers, so they know how to take pictures. They always do this when we get together,” you explained, spinning the kebab onto another side, “And golden hour is around sunrise and sunset. It looks like everything is soaked in gold, and it makes your pictures look pretty. But that’s an old term already! You geezers should keep up.” 

Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow and kneeled to turn his designated stick. Smoke from the charred meat wafted into your noses as he declined, “I’ll pass. That sounds stressful.” 

A rapid clapping of tongs next to your ear preceded Seokjin’s offer, “What are we waiting for? Let’s golden hour swap!” 

Why did he have to be so endearing? A cough escaped your throat, disjointed laughs following right after in their awkward escape. Beside you, Yoongi flung condescension Jin’s way, his voice stocked with disappointment as he warned, “Don’t speak. You age yourself.” 

You transferred your kebabs to a foiled plate before standing, blood rushing to your lower legs. Seokjin was unleashing a hearty tirade at the other man grilling when you intervened, “That sounds nice, actually. I’m in a photography class so I was planning on taking some photos anyways. Lemme just get my camera.” 

As you walked away, you couldn’t escape the abrupt change in atmosphere hovering over the grills, its looming tension caressing the back of your coat in a slight push. The words exchanged were soft in volume, but their possible meanings stayed clanging in your ears. 

“Did you tell her yet?” 

“No.” 

“Do it. She deserves to know.” 

You slipped out of your tent with a heavy jacket and lightheadedness. Medicine would’ve helped with the latter, but the med kit Seokjin packed remained strictly for emergencies. Besides, you couldn’t quite slap a bandage on what was truly bothering you anyways. 

As you inspected your class-registered Polaroid, you continued to wonder what Yoongi meant earlier. 

What was he implying? You deserved to know what? You couldn’t say the feeling swirling around your gut was a positive one. After all, there was a distinct difference in what a person should know, and what a person deserved to know. What was so important that Yoongi practically ordered Seokjin to spill? 

Was there another person in his life now? That was one thing that crossed your mind, but you filed that under the “should know” category, even though it twisted your stomach to think about.

The news had to be something urgent. 

Was Seokjin getting married? 

Without your permission, vessels in your heart shriveled, squeezing life from your already battered soul. A betrothal was entirely possible with his pursuit of a medical degree and coming from a well-to-do family. Maybe he was in an arrangement? 

That possibility dropped an anvil on your chest. You couldn’t say that you were completely fine were that the truth. How could you be fine with something like that if you loved him? Of course, you would be happy if he was, but your heart would require recuperation for an extended amount of time. Give or take a few years. 

You wandered so far into the depths of your mind that Seokjin’s sudden appearance kicked you back to shore, a yelp leaving your mouth at the same time your Polaroid left your hands. If the camera wasn’t hanging from your neck, you would’ve been in deep shit with your professor as soon as it hit the cold soil. 

Its bulky frame definitely bruised your lower chest on the downswing, though. “Ow. Geez, Jinnie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” 

Your eyes widened in realization. Jinnie? Shit, you hadn’t called him that since you guys were dating. Quite obviously, the stockpile of thoughts and worries involving his secret were blocking your brain from better judgment. 

And apparently you weren’t the only one affected by that nickname because Seokjin’s eyebrows shot into his dark locks, his peculiar glance shifting away. Odd. 

After an awkward second, he cleared his throat. “Does it hurt?” 

Is it supposed to? You knew he was inquiring about your injury but your thoughts drifted to what hadn’t been divulged yet. “No, it’s fine,” you lied. “Let’s pick a spot before we lose the light.” 

You don’t remember how long you walked, but the pair of you ended up far from the original campsite. 

In your defense, it wasn’t like you planned that outcome. The trees matched at every turn, so you kept wandering until you found a good clearing - or at least some rocks to break the forested monotony. 

A foil to your pickiness, Seokjin voiced his thoughts every ten paces, his votes of confidence constantly crushed by your boots. If you had a cent for every time he declared a spot “the one,” you could actually afford the Polaroid dangling from your neck. 

It was at a calm clearing with some patches from last snowfall where you decided to settle. 

Unhooking the strap from your neck, you ushered, “Let’s do this quick. It’s almost over.” 

“I wanna do it first!” You thought Seokjin meant to take the camera from you, but instead he scuttled into the clearing, striking a pose once he reached its center. Of course the fool meant that he wanted his pictures taken and not the other way around. How was any other idea plausible? “Hurry up, you said!” 

“The ‘S’ in Seokjin stands for ‘Selfish,’” you yelled, positioning the Polaroid against your eye regardless. His face enlarged in the lens and, to his credit, you couldn’t argue that he was the clear model between you two. The man could pursue a career in fashion instead of medicine and you wouldn’t bat an eye. 

He looked handsome merely standing there, cheeks dimpling at nothing in particular and his charm ever effortless. Even the slight bags under his eyes didn’t take away from his natural beauty. 

Par for the course with Seokjin. That unbothered self-assurance was one of the traits you liked and hated about him. 

At least, initially. The more you got to know him, your outlook on that defining characteristic was one of admiration, not hatred. You simply needed to start shoving some of that confidence down your own throat like a different type of vitamin C.

After a telltale camera snap, the man threw out his coated arms in another pose. “And the ‘Seok’ stands for ‘Seok in my presence!’” 

“I think I’ve been in it long enough. My fingers are pruny,” you droned while lowering your Polaroid, ignoring his wiggling in the background. It seemed you were still accustomed to his ridiculousness. 

Yet another thing you gave him credit for: he was never afraid to be a dork. When you first met him, you admittedly thought he was faking it. Over time, you recognized his authenticity, and you grew fond of everything wrapped in the gift that was Kim Seokjin.

You waited for the picture to materialize in your hand. When your impatient model approached you and asked why you weren’t shaking the polaroid, you informed him that you should, in fact, not do that. “It’ll damage the final product!” 

“So that song is…” 

“Wrong. Yes.” 

Pure shock flashed across his face. “What other lies have I been told?”  

The captured memory started blossoming, and you watched as the color bled into life. “That you aren’t the funniest person on the planet,” you answered, earning a scoff. 

“In that case, you’ve just been misinformed.” Seokjin huffed before offering an outstretched palm. “Now hand over the camera, it’s your turn.”

“Me?” You didn’t think he was serious when he said swap. In reality, you just assumed he whipped up an excuse for you to take pictures of him. 

And you didn’t mind. It was nice to have that charming smile directed at you, even if only through the lens of a camera. The Polaroid would be your shield, blocking Seokjin from the pain swimming in your eyes, barely afloat in pools of regret and guilt and loneliness.

“Yes, woman! When was the last time you had your picture taken?” 

Slowly, embarrassment swelled across your cheeks when you realized it had been a very long time. Legitimately long. You never asked others to take your picture; rather, you were always the one behind the lens. The last time someone actually offered was… 

“When you took one,” you stuttered out breathily, “At that park.” 

It was during one of the last dates you two went on before you left for university. There was a carnival you were dying to visit, and Seokjin surprised you with tickets and a kiss. 

You remember being so elated while traversing through the whimsical booths, failing fantastically at the rigged games, scarfing down sticky, billowy cotton candy. Squeaky horns and childish laughter filled your ears, and you could still feel Jin’s gentle fingers on your hand as he shyly tugged you under glowing stringed lights. 

The main attraction was a carousel keeping everything else in orbit, its charisma shining like a golden, spinning sun. When night fell, you too gravitated toward its charm, standing behind its barricade to watch horses and teacups endlessly turn. 

It was so captivating that you forgot yourself and where you were - who you were supposed to be spending time with. Swiveling in fear, you scanned the bustling crowd for your boyfriend, realizing that you needn’t worry at all. 

Seokjin simply waited behind you, holding up his phone and telling you to pose. You were so caught off-guard in that moment that your face contorted hilariously right as he snapped the photo. In his eyes, it was the greatest picture of all time. 

However, it wasn’t that well received by its subject. You begged Seokjin to delete it, and he finally caved on the grounds that you took a replacement. Conceding, you stomped back to the gate guarding the twirling attraction and pranked your boyfriend with a blank expression. 

But as soon as Seokjin drawled “You look like you don’t care-ousel,” you burst into laughter - your unabashed mirth becoming his background on every device he owned. 

The scene faded from your eyes as the current Seokjin stood in front of you, gripping the Polaroid instead of his phone. Gone were the lights and sounds of the theme park and, with them, your fleeting moment of solace. 

“Oh,” was all he stated in return, and you swore the temperature chose to drop in that moment just to mock you.

“You know I don’t prefer it anyways.” Your heart was losing its grip, sorrow evident in your shaky tone. You folded your arms to shield your body from the weather and unwanted emotions. “I’m definitely not as photogenic as you.” 

“Nonsense,” Seokjin shot back. “Now hurry up, it’s only golden minute now!” 

And just like that, his warmth melted any awkwardness like spring chasing away winter. 

In retrospect, he probably regarded that moment at the carnival differently, or he just wanted to keep those memories in the past where they belonged. It hurt to be the only one so strongly affected by them, but Jin had the right idea. If there existed a standard list of activities to do with an ex, talking about the past wasn’t one of the options. Especially if you had feelings for said ex. 

Plus, you didn’t forget that there was something he had to tell you. It seemed like you were going to have to wait a little longer for that, and your anxiousness wasn’t pleased.  

As you ambled to the center of the clearing, you focused more on the crunching sounds your boots made rather than your feelings. With a quick survey of the area, you surmised that it really was a pretty spot, the mountain range peeking behind the trees adding depth to the setting. Adjusting your outfit, you took a breath of courage before staring at the eye of the Polaroid.

Seokjin moved the camera from his face and called your name, roping your gaze to his concern. “Smile, okay?” 

On instinct, your throat constricted. You couldn’t hide behind the lens that time. But smile you did, and you hoped Seokjin thought it genuine, silently pleading him to not notice the anguish lingering behind your crescent eyes. 

The fire pit your friends constructed blazed bright as you both made it back to the campgrounds. Everyone occupied the surrounding logs and, judging from the soft pop pumping from a portable speaker, Jungkook must have commandeered music control.

Jimin turned when he heard your footsteps, his expression indiscernible as he shifted his gaze between you and Jin. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only turning back to Yoongi to continue their conversation. 

Seokjin and you parted ways effortlessly: he slotted into the empty space next to Namjoon and you headed to your tent to stow your camera. 

And for some reason, that easy departure was hard to swallow. 

Your pitched space offered warmth upon entry, and you dumped yourself onto your sleeping bag without a word. A few quiet moments passed before you unzipped your backpack, the tiny action feeling so tedious, so difficult to achieve. 

After you finally stored your equipment and closed your bag shut, you just… sat there. Contemplative. 

Mentally, you were in a bad place. Your thoughts and emotions banged into each other, their war rendering you powerless - captive. Fidgeting with the plasticky fabric of your sleeping bag, you thought back to what happened after you two left the photo spot.

It was an uneventful walk back for the most part. The polaroids turned out nice, all thanks to the very rare and very expensive camera you borrowed. Seokjin claimed yours and handed you his, and faced with your sudden curiosity, he sheepishly offered, “You don’t have to keep it.” 

You were more questioning of the fact that he stored yours in his jacket, but you didn’t want to broach that subject. It was beginning to scare you. Maybe it was the fact that he was acting strange, coupled with the other fact that he was hiding something from you. 

Why were you suddenly afraid to confront him? You two were open with each other during your relationship. Were you also wanting to put this dreaded conversation off as long as possible, too? 

If he was with someone else, though, would he still be keeping your picture? 

It was too much to think about, so you tried to lock everything in a box and sit on it. 

You saw the light of the campfire after a few minutes of walking through the woods - a handful of silent, crawling minutes. It was bugging you that Seokjin didn’t say anything on the way back. A quiet Jin was a Jin knee deep in thought, and not in good circumstance. In a moment of weakness, you almost offered out your hand to grab his, but you instead crammed it inside your coat pocket. 

When you both rejoined your friends, it seemed so easy for you guys to separate, like you didn’t just go off and do something so intimate. Even though that wasn’t the word you wanted to use. 

You resigned yourself to the big picture nonetheless: it wasn’t like what Taehyung and Rin did. Your best friend was insanely popular on social media with her carefully curated feed and relatable-yet-unachievable style. Taehyung had his own massive following for different reasons, and you couldn’t deny that he knew exactly what he was doing to gain the hearts of many. They were snapping photos for each other to show millions of anonymous beings across the world. 

You and Seokjin just took photos for each other to have. No one else was going to see those. 

Why did you feel like that was significant? 

The edge of your sleeping bag began to fray under duress, so you plucked your body off the ground and slipped back outside. What you expected was the temperature dipping a couple degrees in nightfall. What you didn’t expect was Jimin waiting for you, puffy jacket and all, leaning against a tree. 

When he saw you emerge from your tent, he straightened and regarded you with caution. “Everything okay?”

You adjusted the front of your coat before fishing a beanie out to cover your ears. “Yeah, why?”

“You were just in there for awhile,” Jimin explained, his eyes searching yours, “And you were with him for a long time.”

“I don’t like being interrogated, Park,” you sighed.

“I know, I just…” He mirrored you and huffed his own breath toward the ground. A quick glance had you noticing that his own beanie was knit as thick as the fog in your mind. “I just want to make sure.” 

Jimin was whom you considered closest next to your best friend and formerly Seokjin. After your break up, Jimin regularly sent you texts to check on you, despite your constant assurance that you were okay. It got to a point where you phoned him and pleaded reprieve - to reach out only if he had something critical to say. 

His broken reply? He only texted you because Seokjin wouldn’t. 

You ended up crying after that call, and the tears annoyingly persisted a couple nights following. 

He was also one of the only two people in the world that knew you loved Jin. Rin was the other, and that’s only because you let it slip during a girls’ night over cheap wine and period piece movies. Something about an early morning confession in a dewy meadow was enough to loosen your alcohol-mottled tongue.

After you ran your fingers over your head, you responded, “Can I ask you something?” 

Your friend’s eyes roamed over your face. “Of course.”

“What’s he hiding from me?”

Jimin instantly clammed up at the question. His dancer frame assumed a rigid position, each limb locking, including his jaw. “It’s not my place to say,” he answered gravely, pulling anger from your center.

“Does everyone else know this secret except me?” You really couldn’t take it anymore, especially knowing that something you supposedly deserved to know was possibly public knowledge. 

“Just the guys,” Jimin divulged, and you scoffed. 

“I can’t believe this.” You made to walk away, in the opposite direction of the campfire. Into the woods again.

Jimin said your name like he just wanted you to understand already, halting you mid-stride. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you. Trust me, I have.”

“He’s a grown man, Park. His decisions aren’t your problem,” you whispered. 

“But aren’t they yours?” 

“Not anymore. We aren’t together right now, if you don’t recall.” You knew you were spitting bullshit, and Jimin did, too. If Seokjin wasn’t giving you problems, you wouldn’t have been hiding in your tent or literally and figuratively walking away from him. Guiltily, you turned back to face Jimin and give him his credit. 

He was this way for everyone in your group: the glue that hung on and fought to keep people from breaking apart. Whenever a fight broke out between warring parties, Jimin was the middle man. Always. 

Sighing, you relented, “I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you. I’m just so confused, and the longer he hides whatever he’s hiding from me, the more restless I’ll be.”

“Everyone is on your side in this,” Jimin replied. “He just needs to, I don’t know, woman up.”

A breath of laughter escaped you at the tweaked phrase, the tension coating your shoulders slowly sliding off in clumps. “Did you say ‘woman up?’”

“Men aren’t shit,” your friend explained, pointing a gloved finger to punctuate every syllable. “At least women get things done.”

“I would totally drink to that if I had a bottle in my hand, Jimin.”

“Ah, well that can be arranged!” The boy’s eyes crinkled as he spun on a heel. “Let’s go. Jungkook and Taehyung brought out the drinks awhile ago. I missed out on a few bottles already talking to you.”

“Oh, I feel so remorseful,” you cooed, your voice worthy of giving kids cavities. “Almost as if I cared.” 

“Ass,” Jimin snapped, but he could only laugh. When you joined his side, he turned and whispered, “But seriously. If he doesn’t talk about it by the end of this trip, I’m giving him hell.” 

The temperature dropped again at that moment, and the wind blowing through the pines cut straight into your bones. Your shoulders hunched on instinct and you blinked to get needed moisture. Was it going to snow? The skies above did look intimidating. Was it going to storm? 

A sudden trepidation settled into your gut. “Did we check the weather,” you queried, shuffling through your brain to see if you monitored it yourself before the trip. 

“Uh-umm, I did,” Jimin answered through chattering teeth, “But I didn’t see anything other than it being cold.” 

You pulled out your phone and regretted doing so, your fingers freezing over instantly. You were lucky you all chose a location that was still in signal range - really, thanks went to Rin and Taehyung for incessantly demanding it every year.

Pulling up the weather app after a few tries, you cursed at the oncoming forecast. “Well, there’s more to it. Snow’s coming in,” you relayed to Jimin. “Let’s pack up and find a place to stay.” 

The car ride to the nearest lodging felt immensely different than the ride to the campgrounds. Some people focused on defrosting, one person worried about the people in the front, and the two said people in the front weren’t talking at all. 

It was you that broke the silence when you steadily gave directions, and Seokjin would repeat them like always. Selfishly, you wanted the car ride to keep going just so you could hear his voice. He wasn’t saying anything otherwise, and there wasn’t music playing for him to absentmindedly sing along to. 

The first snowfall was light as your caravan entered the small town nearby, which relieved you. Tiny snowflakes clung onto the windows and you lost yourself in their geometric patterns. Lights from the shops and other stray cars reflected in the slick roads to create a symphony of color, and white patches already settled on trees that lined the main way. 

Seokjin spotted the lodge first, and he rolled into a spot towards the entrance, Jungkook’s car slotting into the next space. Your driver rolled down his window and repeatedly pointed his finger down to signal for Yoongi to follow suit. “Let’s go in and make sure they have our rooms first,” he called out, and Jungkook leaned over his console to shout a hearty okay.

You hoisted yourself out of the car and waited for the boys to follow. Seokjin went to stand next to you, but instead of Jungkook popping out of the other car, it was Namjoon that emerged. You could only guess that the youngest slyly started a game to have the loser get out. 

Your stomach turned when you realized it was most likely because no one wanted to be left alone with you and Seokjin. 

Remorse burned your throat. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it just felt strained. Were you overthinking? Or was your churning gut correct in its assumption? 

At the very least, you hoped everyone else was having a better time than you were. 

It seemed that the man beside you had the same feeling that a challenge was pitched. “Rock-paper-scissors? Or nose goes?”

Namjoon just laughed at the ground as his face flushed. “Nose goes, and I put my finger on my mouth so, umm, that’s that.” 

You chuckled while you three made your way to the door, both of them towering over you on either side. Seokjin opened the entrance for everyone and, when you stepped foot inside, you were hit with a wave of warmth mixed with an undercurrent of gingerbread. The entirety of the main entrance bathed in plaid or embroidered throws, and there was an obvious affinity for Christmas on display with the plethora of garlands, lights, and a towering Christmas tree in the front bay window. 

Namjoon and Seokjin quickly got distracted by the toy train running through a snowy village setup. Adorable, but not helpful. 

Alone at the front desk, you received confirmation that your group had four bookings, and you thanked the concierge while you gathered the keys. 

The rooms weren’t next to each other. One of them sat on another floor, and the rest were separated but shared the same level. 

A container of pamphlets caught your attention, so you grabbed one before strolling away. “Guys, let’s claim our rooms. After that, you can watch the train all you want,” you called out, tapping them both on the back with the thin brochure. 

They swiveled their heads to your retreating form before following you out the door. 

“No. We are not doing that again.” 

“Come on, hyung, it’ll be fun!” 

“I’m with Yoongi on this one. We could all end up in the same room.” 

“But what if you get a room to yourself?” 

“Why can’t we ever just pick like normal people? And Hoseok-hyung, you laugh but you have the worst luck out of all of us.” 

“Excuse me! That’s only because you all psyche me out!” 

“Let’s just pick something. My phone’s almost dead.” 

You stood next to Rin while you two watched the boys decide how room assignments were determined. It was a sight to see: them crowding the small hallway, bags littered around their bulky shoes. You both were thankful they were courteous enough to let you two keep a room to yourselves. They even made sure yours wasn’t on the other floor, just so that you girls wouldn’t be alone. 

They were going to pick random rooms one-by-one, not knowing which options the others picked until they opened a door. If you and your friend also had to choose, you were risking the possibility of being stuck with Seokjin, which was the last thing you wanted. 

On a day where your friendship was actually normal, that wouldn’t have mattered one bit. But right then? The tension surrounding him would have been detrimental. 

He had something to say; he wasn’t saying it. You were a sitting, fidgeting duck. 

Jungkook whipped his phone out to search the internet for a random coin flip generator. “Here. Heads, we do it. Tails, we don’t.” 

Yoongi just snickered in defeat and already started picking up his bag. “I call picking first.” 

His intuition proved sharp as the generator pulled up Heads: they were going with the random room assignments. Taehyung kicked his head back with a sigh, and Jimin and Jungkook burst into laughter while the elders collectively groaned.  

As Rin giggled at their misfortune, you sent a rueful smile Seokjin’s way out of habit. You were still friends, after all, and he seemed so distraught over the prospect of horrid results. His eyes locked onto yours and, for a brief moment, he offered a shy grin in return.

The fluttering in your chest was quickly shooed away. 

It was while everyone relaxed around a public lounge area that Jungkook hurled an accusation, his eyes alight with the flames licking the nearby fireplace. “Hyung cheated.” 

Seokjin immediately sat up in his plush chair and retorted, “Take that back! I did nothing of the sort. You all were just too lazy to take the stairs to the next floor.”

Taehyung shot him a side eye and shared his own eloquent opinion. “Seems sus.” 

A whole new wave of bickering erupted, and you redirected your attention to the snow storm blustering outside tall windows. 

You were thanking every deity above that you guys decided to leave in time. It would’ve been hell in the campsite during this weather, or even while squeezed into the cars. 

Though the original plans were derailed, you were pretty happy with the current lodging situation. Who knew a small town would have a humongous lodge? It had to be assumed that this was the main business keeping the town running. Rin was absolutely drinking it in and stated she even wanted to bring her family there, her thoughtfulness curving your mouth upwards.

Another good thing that came out of this trip proved to be the room assignments that Jungkook ended up loathing. They had you clutching your sides when all was said and done.

Four of the boys managed to pick the same room, and Hoseok and Yoongi snagged a room to themselves. These results resulted in one Kim Seokjin speeding up and down the hallway, wholeheartedly shouting with glee. Yoongi almost crumpled to the ground in relief at the end, and Hoseok fell over in laughter when he entered the full room. You could feel the desperation in Namjoon’s muffled voice as he begged Seokjin to let him change rooms. The only reply he received was an ominous “If you behave.” 

“Don’t blame us,” Yoongi laughed out, both hands lightly gripping the arms of the rocking chair he chose. “This is what you young people get for trying to be cute.” His relief from only having to bunk with one other person left him chipper, you noticed. To his credit, it was amusing that the youngest four ended up in the same room. 

“Okay, gramps,” Jungkook snapped, earning a laugh from Jimin on the seat next to him. “But she definitely gave hyung clues!” 

You whipped your head around to shoot a confused look toward your accuser. “Me?” 

Multiple eyes darted between you two like pinballs, and you didn’t have time to brace for his next words,

“You know you won’t see him again after this trip, so you—” 

“—Kook!” 

All oxygen abandoned you as Jimin rushed to shut the younger man’s mouth, practically slapping his face. Eyes popped out of his head as Jungkook paled in realization. 

The rest of the boys bore glares into the youngest one’s countenance, but Seokjin turned directly towards you with concern. 

What just happened? Your fingers gripped the varnished wood of your chair as you slowly locked eyes with your ex, and your heart dropped like a stone when he shifted his gaze to the floor. 

What the fuck was happening? Your brain was going haywire. What did Jungkook mean? You wouldn’t see Seokjin after this trip? The man that you couldn’t wait to see on the last Friday of every November? That was bogus. He was joking. It was a joke, right? One more weekend before Seokjin was gone from your life forever? Impossible. Ludicrous.

Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? 

Beside you, Rin clutched one of your tense fists in her soft palms. Addressing the group, her sharp tone demanded an answer when she asked, “What the hell is going on?” 

The silence that followed was palpable. Not even the pleasant music drifting through the lodge was enough to damper the tension. 

“I think,” Yoongi finally murmured, his words ice, “This is our cue to leave.”  

“No need,” your friend snipped, “We’ll go.” She whispered your name before softly tugging you to vacate your seat. 

When you pried yourself from the cushion, it took a moment for you to control your legs to actually move. You knew all the guys were watching you, but you were too embarrassed to acknowledge them, too upset to look any of them in the eye. 

Rin led you away from the lounge, making sure you were heading toward the nearest staircase before spinning on her heel. “To the unfortunate soul that gets to explain this to me,” she bit, clutching everyone’s attention in her underlying threat, “Text me where to meet you in ten minutes.” 

Both you and Rin occupied the carpet, backs against the cookie cutter sofa that existed in each room. 

You two pushed the furniture around so that the couch faced the windows instead of the plain TV, and you surprised your friend by dumping yourself onto the ground instead of the cushions. Rin didn’t question you, though. She only followed suit. 

The curtains were shoved to the side to reveal the relentless storm, and you watched the swirls and streaks of white until your head fell onto Rin’s shoulder. 

“I should’ve been paying attention to you,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, the motion feeling awkward in its tilt. “No, no. You’ve been having a fun time, so I’m happy I didn’t ruin that.” Your laugh was dry. “Until now, at least.”

Rin lowered her shoulder so that you rested more comfortably. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m going through a breakup again.”

Fuck. You didn’t realize until the words left your lips that it’s how you really felt. 

It had been a few years since you guys ended things. Throughout that whole time, you didn’t feel awkward one bit.  

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The “date” that Seokjin brought to the Christmas party last year made you want to tear your hair out. But, that was because she was obviously after his finances and that was the year you realized you loved him. 

The conversation you had with Seokjin turned sour, but you really wanted him to see the big picture. You could still recall that night with clarity, the snow falling much lighter than what you currently witnessed outside. 

“Seokjin, do you honestly think she likes you?” The red dress you wore was so vibrant that it glinted off the dinnerware spread across the decadent table nearby. 

When you pulled your ex aside that night, the only quiet place you could find was the dining room, long abandoned once everyone got their seconds. Up until this point, it was obvious Seokjin wasn’t understanding you. You tried to tell him how you saw it, and he would just brush things aside. 

“You sound like you care more than I do,” he accused, his eyes looking everywhere but your face.

Before you responded, you scoffed. “I’m your friend. Of course I’m going to care.” 

You remember the strong emotions you suppressed that night. You couldn’t let more things slip than necessary. Yes, you could show him you cared. Yes, you could show him he needed someone else. Just as long as you didn’t give too much of your own feelings for him away. “You deserve someone that at least likes you, for you.” 

Seokjin finally stared back at your stormy features, his eyes filled with something unsaid. You sucked in a breath. What else would he say? You liked him for everything he was, but that relationship didn’t pan out. Obviously. You would’ve been going to this Christmas party together if you still dated. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have been having that conversation - it was already hard enough for you to say you were his friend. You wanted to be more than that. Again. 

“I know she doesn’t like me,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his bangs. The urge to caress his ever soft strands filled you with grief. 

You really did like his hair, and it looked even better when coupled with his Nutcracker-esque attire. 

“Then why…” You struggled to find a reason why they were even there together. It was a Christmas party with your friends. Why would he bring someone that he didn’t like? 

“She’s interested in Namjoon.” Seokjin’s eyes quickly turned into crescents when he witnessed your expression, and his full lips pursed to contain his laughter. “I was trying to get her off me the whole night, but she was trying harder than she needed to to make him jealous. I’m irresistible, you know.” 

“Irritable is more like it,” you growled, playfully shoving him aside. “Ass! I was just trying to protect you and you knew this whole time!” 

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!” The man beamed as he made his way out of the dining room. 

“Yeah, well,” you whispered, tensing slightly when he stopped. “They have to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.” And you really did mean that.  

Seokjin’s smile faltered, and you shot him a half-smile before exiting the room yourself. 

That was the last time you guys had an argument, if you could even call it that. The rest of the moments you had with him were completely fine. You wondered if Seokjin could see through you during that conversation. He was perceptive, sure, but you may have gotten away with looking like just a good friend. 

It was just worrisome since you couldn’t control your emotions that night. You only got to see him in person during these November trips and Christmas parties when you went home, after all. Seeing him again after realizing you loved him ignited something within you, and it took the whole night to put that fire out.

This looming news just felt way too heavy to handle. Was it because you reached where the sidewalk ended? You weren’t going to see his face in person or hear his laugh out loud. There wasn’t going to be off-the-cuff, awful dad jokes thrown your way every end of November. 

A nagging idea, far in the depths of your mind, kept tapping your shoulder. But you brushed it off with a scowl. 

Even if you acknowledged the concept, there was no way Seokjin felt the same about you. Neither one of you said you loved each other throughout the time you were dating. Were there times you thought you did? Admittedly, yes. Did you ever think about telling him? Another yes. But he never hinted that he felt the same, so it would’ve been awkward for you if it turned out he didn’t. The absence of a confession kept you from revealing yours. So of course even now, you couldn’t tell him. Especially since he was apparently leaving.

Rin didn’t speak for awhile, but you knew she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She was number one at standing up for you and protecting you, but when it came to the softer parts of consoling, she did flounder. Which was endearing and calming in itself.

“How can I help,” she simply offered, and you nuzzled further into her neck. She always smelled so nice, your guardian Rin.

The adrenaline from Jungkook’s bombshell, your swift exit, and the constant stream of thoughts started to wane. Exhaustion slowly took its place like honey sliding into a jar. Softly, your eyelids drooped and you whispered, “This room is a castle, so be my big bad dragon and don’t let anyone in.” 

The last sound you heard before falling asleep was a tinkling laugh followed by a small “As you wish, princess.” 

When you regained consciousness, you discovered that you were strewn across one of the beds instead of the ground. You couldn’t even estimate how much time passed while you were out, but the storm outside was still thrashing and the only light in the room was the emergency one by the door. 

You groggily propped up weary limbs in search of your phone, eventually swiping it from the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you barely registered the pain meds and glass of water sitting on that same table, their dark silhouettes waiting patiently. 

Bright pixels mocked your drool-covered chin. Scrunching your face instinctively, you scrolled through your notifications while blinking sleep from your lashes. You received multiple texts, but you didn’t want to open the threads completely, so you opted to check them from the Home screen. 

Jiminie [7:20pm]: Fuck, I’m sorry that happened. Please be okay. Love you.

Tae [7:21pm]: free hugs whenever you need. you know the drill. 

Rin-Rin [7:36pm]: I know you said not to let anyone in but I literally couldn’t carry you to the bed. Forgive me!

Yoongi [7:37pm]: He’s in his room. I kept telling him to tell you. I know it’s shit to find out this way so if he doesn’t explain things to you, I will. 

Hobi [7:39pm]: we’re here for u love!! let me know if u need anything. there’s a small concession stand downstairs so if u need smth i can run it up!!

Jiminie [7:40pm]: Kook is in bad shape. He swore he thought hyung told you already. Don’t worry tho. I’m not letting him off easy.

Rin-Rin [7:43pm]: Hey, love. Just spoke to Seokjin. I think you need to talk to him yourself, but only if you feel up for it. 

Joonie [7:45pm]: I gave Rin a bottle of pain meds we had in our room 

Joonie [7:45pm]: Go ahead and take some when you wake up

Joonie [7:45pm]: We can count this as an emergency

Jiminie [8:21pm]: Let me know if you’re okay, okay?

Kook [8:33pm]: I’m so sorry 

Rin-Rin [8:48pm]: Grabbing us some snacks from downstairs, I’ll brb. 

Your battered heart sank even more when you noticed a distinct absence amongst the names. Seokjin didn’t send you a single message. 

What had gotten into him? Did he still not want to talk to you despite you knowing his secret? You clicked your phone shut without opening any of the messages and sunk into the pillows. It was 8:49pm, so you had barely missed Rin’s departure. Her exit was probably what woke you. 

Unwittingly, you found your device in front of your baggy eyes again, berating yourself for hovering over Seokjin’s thread. The last text he sent stared back at you in a mocking set of pixels. 

Kim JokeJin [Thursday, 9:23pm]: Let’s make this one the best one! 

With the previous context, this was just a regular message about the yearly trip. With the right context, these words tied your throat in a knot.  

You were sure you loved him, but what you were feeling now was even stronger. If you were honest with yourself, you would say that this is what yearning truly felt like, what something deeper than love felt like. 

But you were a fool and a liar, so you convinced yourself it was only because you wouldn’t see him again. 

As soon as you were about to give up and lock your phone, the thread updated with a new text from Seokjin, and you stilled. 

Kim JokeJin [8:51pm]: You’re probably still asleep, so I don’t want to wake you. 

You immediately clicked on his message, your anxiousness protected by the absence of Read receipts. The typing bubble kept popping in and out of the screen and, with bated breath, you waited to see if a second text slid into the thread. A hard exhale whooshed from your throat when the second message came through. 

Kim JokeJin [8:53pm]: But I owe you an explanation so come up when you can. 

Fingers locked your phone in an instant when the door creaked on its hinges. Rin entered with an armful of chips and various candy bars, and as you started to get up, she tutted.  

“Sit down, lady.” Packages crinkled as she dumped them onto your covered legs in a processed, sweet and salty heap. “Did you take the medicine?” 

You shook your head, very sure that you looked like a cranky Troll doll. 

“Go ahead and eat something really quick so the medicine will work. When you’re awake enough…” Rin’s voice trailed off, but you filled in the blanks yourself. Go talk to him was what she wanted to say. 

“Can’t you just tell me what he said?” You were hopeful that Rin would save you the pain of confronting Seokjin yourself. In reality, she denied your request. 

“Not this time,” she murmured, “This is something that needs to come from him.” 

You figured as much, but it didn’t hurt to try getting out of it. It was a conversation that you both wanted and dreaded to have. Under your goosebumps, your bones trembled.

If you were frightened by the mere gist of it, how were you going to react to the real thing?

The reality was that you needed the closure Seokjin was offering. You didn’t think this vacation - or your friendship, for that matter - could regain normalcy until you had this talk. “Sorry I ruined this trip,” you whispered, playing with a corner of the closest bag of chips. 

“I’m sorry, is your name ‘Jungkook?’” Rin laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s not ruined. At the very least, it’s salvageable. Maybe.”

“You should be a weather girl with these confident forecasts,” you joked, coaxing a laugh from your friend. You offered a small smile in return, but your heart wasn’t in it. She kinda forgot that this is the last trip you guys would have with Seokjin. If anything, it was doomed from the start. 

Little striations ran across the door greeting you, shallow cuts skirting up and down the frame. You roved your eyes over the rough texture; contemplative, lost in the mahogany brown expanse. 

If only you were a sturdy tree. You wouldn’t have to worry about any hard conversations in life. All you would’ve had to worry about was possibly becoming a rickety chair for a spoiled brat, or one of Namjoon’s tables that he would eventually damage and lament over. 

With a breath, you finally knocked. 

It didn’t take long for Seokjin’s freshly showered form to answer, and when you saw him dressed down to a plain white shirt and black pants, you quickly shifted your eyes to the floor. Didn’t he know that outfit was your favorite? Your weakness? 

“Hey,” you simply said. “I’m awake now.” 

He nodded and let you in, the door closing with a soft click. When you crossed the room, you stopped in front of the couch, anticipation already caking onto your clothes. There wasn’t much to say on your end, you figured, so Seokjin had to take the lead. 

Instead of launching into topic, he walked towards you and grabbed a bottle from his nightstand. “Do you want some water?” 

You could only stare at the plastic in question. “Did I come here for water, Seokjin?” 

There was a heavy pause before the man planted his offering on the nightstand. “No.” Sitting on the longer side of his bed, he clasped his hands together, blank eyes glued to the floor. “Jungkook is right. I won’t be able to go on these trips anymore.” 

“Why?” 

“I, umm,” Seokjin answered, his words fumbling, “I kinda got into Harvard Medical School.” 

“What?” Your anxiousness was forgotten as you gawked at him. That was what he was holding back from you? All this time? That amazing, fantastic, crazy news? Without thinking, you bounded toward him and crushed him in a hug, careful to not push him back onto the bed. “Seokjin! This is what you couldn’t tell me?” 

His arms remained at his sides. When he responded, his explanation bounced onto your shoulder, “I literally won’t have a life once I start. None of you will be able to see this face, isn’t that enough to be sad about?” 

Another moment of weakness came over you, and instead of overcoming it, you gave in. Your arms tightened around him and you whispered, “No, I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked so hard…” 

There were bags under his eyes for a reason. You knew the nights he got three hours of sleep far outweighed the nights he got more than that. The reason you two didn’t get to see each other was his relentless studying and discipline, and you didn’t want him to have to choose between you and a future career. You both were way too young for those rash decisions. 

It was with this memory that you were reminded of why you broke up: you wanted him to focus on his goals and you would do the same. “Really, I’m so proud of you.” 

Why you hadn’t let go of him at that point was a mystery to you, but you couldn’t seem to stop. The feel of his body against yours consumed you, held you captive even if his arms didn’t. 

But after a moment, you felt strong limbs wrap around your sides and emotion wrap around your throat. 

You don’t remember the last time you two truly embraced. It was a given that the last time you did, you were both completely different people. Both so young. Both so naive.

“Thank you,” Seokjin breathed, his head finally a beautiful burden on your shoulder, “But there’s more.” 

Tension froze your veins, taking the color from your complexion. Of course there was more. There was no way that was the big reveal, even though it was a monster in itself. “Oh,” was all you managed to squeak out. 

Seokjin’s arms gently pushed your body away so that he could look you in the eyes. You already missed his stronghold, but you listened as he spoke. “My parents want me to go back home. To Korea.” 

You blinked. “Even though you got into Harvard?” 

“No, no, after that,” Seokjin expressed with a level of confidence only he could achieve. Like it was inconceivable that he wouldn’t get his doctorate. He then searched your face, the pause holding weight. “So, I don’t know if I’ll see you guys again.” 

The wind howled outside and you shivered as if you were standing out there in the cold. There was so much that you wanted to say, but all the thoughts you had in your head melded together into sludge. Words struggled to leave your mouth. Nothing processed correctly in your brain. 

Seokjin wasn’t joking - not this time. He really was going to be swamped in work and work and more work. Even the holidays were going to be crammed, and you were sure he wanted to use those rare rest periods solely to recharge. 

Yes, he would still be able to text and call everyone, but that would be the extent of communication. He wasn’t big on social media. Even if he was, there would certainly be a dip in his activity now. 

Just like you felt earlier, you really did feel like you were going through a breakup again. Only this time, the last remains of your relationship were at stake. 

You didn’t want that. 

“We’d still be friends,” you weakly offered, wondering if you were just saying that to convince yourself. 

An empty chuckle startled you, and when you looked at Jin, he directed an empty gaze toward his nightstand’s lamp. “Yeah… We’d still be friends,” he repeated, and the way he said that made your shoulders sag. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you. 

“But Seokjin… You should be so happy. I mean, you’re incredible,” you whispered, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest.

“What if I’m not?” 

You sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing what to do. Was he saying that hypothetically? No. There wouldn’t be a reason for him to ask if he truly was. 

How were you supposed to respond to that? Being a doctor was his goal - you were sure of it. If he got accepted into Harvard of all places, then his future glimmered as bright as his charm. “What do you mean,” was what you decided to say. Because you needed more from him than that. 

“You said I should be happy. What if I’m not?” 

“This is what you’ve been working towards your whole life!” It didn’t make any sense. None of this was making any sense. Who wasn’t happy that they got accepted to one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world? “You did everything you could, and now you have something to show for it! We even broke up over this. And that’s fine,” you quickly added at the end. You didn’t want Seokjin to feel bad for that at all. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, wanting to get every logical word out before more irrational ones escaped. “You’ve gotten everything you wanted. You deserve to be happy.” 

You could feel the doors of your heart scraping shut. Even if you wanted to try to be with him again, you would have to give up on that dream. There was no way it was going to work if it didn’t pan out last time. 

Fists clenched, you hated how your heart gravitated towards Seokjin on this damn trip, loathed how your brain produced its own highlight reel. Somehow, they both knew this was the end before you did. 

“I don’t have everything I want, but you’re right. I’ll be happy.” He sounded bitter. Why did he sound so bitter?

“What more could you want,” you blurted, the question materializing between the two of you in bold letters. You were just getting frustrated at this point. 

This was his dream. The ultimate goal. The one thing he wanted out of life.

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does to me.”

“Well, it’s none of your concern.”

“I don’t care if it is or not.”

“You really want to know?” Seokjin shot off the bed, immediately towering over your small stature. As your eyes reached his face, you watched as his lips twisted, your shocked features taking in his frustration. “It’s… It’s love, okay? That might sound weird to you, but I’ve realized that all of this is pointless without it. That’s what I’m missing. I want to love again.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his forehead slightly wrinkling under duress. 

The first thing that threw you off was the mere mention of the word. That was so brave of him to even bring it up. With you, of all people: someone he’s dated before. It must have taken so much courage for him to admit that. 

But there was another word in there that stood out amongst all the others.

Again. He said again. Did he love someone before? He couldn’t have been referring to what you guys had. You never once said those words to each other while you dated. So who was he thinking of? And why did it hurt to know that he had loved before and it wasn’t you? 

“I didn’t know you wanted that,” you replied, your voice painfully small. “But I don’t think it’s weird.”

You wanted nothing more than to just confess to him already, but you had no clue what he would say if he didn’t want something with you. The moment escaped like a thief in the night.

“Ah, well, if you knew the whole story,” Seokjin sighed, his breath shaky, “You would definitely think it’s stupid.”

“Why did it end the first time?” You wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe through his explanation, you could find something salvageable. You cared about him - so damn much. Seeing him in a state of utter helplessness seized your heart and gripped it tight. “With the one you… you loved. What happened?”

Seokjin’s indiscernible stare pierced through your soul, his silence screaming that he didn’t want to talk about it. 

And you understood his reluctance. The list of activities to do with an ex didn’t include this as an option, either. 

You felt the steely aftertaste of guilt on your tongue. Maybe he wanted you to just leave him alone already. Besides, you already pushed him to tell a multitude of truths that night. Asking him about a past love life was most likely crossing the line. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, uprooting yourself from your spot to leave. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave you alone.” 

You made it three steps before Seokjin responded, “She decided to end it.” 

A vice clamped your chest. You stood in your new spot closer to the door, eyes boring into the floor. “Even though you were in love?” 

That must have been awful. If you loved him when you two broke it off, it would have absolutely hurt. Very much like what was happening to you now, in fact. Because fuck, were you absolutely disintegrating like a paper on fire. 

“I don’t think she loved me,” Seokjin disclosed, his words tightening the clasp around your lungs. “But I loved her.” 

“I’m so sorry, Seokjin.” Tears brimmed across your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you break. You thrummed with so many emotions in that moment, swept by the current of his words, his heavy tribulations.

He loved someone in the past. You loved him in the present. If only you both harbored a love for each other in at least one point in your lives. 

“That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t, for the most part.” His brittle words crumbled as they appeared. “I saw it coming.”

You chewed on your lip. Seokjin’s confessions were so full of pain - the amount of love he had for this person was obvious. Looking back on your relationship, you remember your split being mutual. It was mutual, right? There weren't any feelings involved. Whichever other situation Seokjin was referring to had to be sometime after you. 

Maybe it was someone during his college days. But wouldn’t you have at least heard about them through the friend circle? Their name must have just left your mind. You knew Seokjin flirted a lot but he needed to be serious to really start a relationship. This one just sounded tragic. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted sincerely, your chest about ready to collapse, “Other than don’t give up. You can do it. Love again.” The joints in your knees threatened to give out. Telling the one you loved that he could find someone again was too much. Too, too much.

“Ah, yeah. Well.” Seokjin turned away from you in a shrug. Even the back of his profile was perfect. “Thanks for being a good, uh, friend.” 

Friend. Could you teleport to your room and stay there? You couldn’t be the one to give him what he wanted, especially since he was about to be gone for a very long time. No matter how much you wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to. 

You swung around to face the door once again. Critical words almost freed themselves from your lips, but you held them back, swallowed them down. “I’ll always be your friend.” 

Head storming, you commended yourself for keeping your voice level. The tears were able to recede - which relieved you, since you wanted to make it through the rest of the conversation with dry eyes. With one tiny head shake, you whispered, “Let’s get some sleep, okay? I don’t want us to ruin the rest of this trip. Like you said before, we have to make it the best one.” 

Seokjin got up and made his way over to you, and you turned around with a fresh face once you knew he was close enough. The smile he wore was manufactured, but you didn’t want to pry. Instead, you repeated your advice as you both approached his door. Because you wanted him to understand. “Seriously. Don’t give up, you hear me?” 

“Don’t give up,” he echoed as he pulled on the handle, like you were just giving him directions. He stilled for a moment in deep concentration before looking your way. Dark eyes bore into yours and you could almost hear them speak, but he gave one final nod and vowed, “Okay.” 

Little striations met you again when you gave Seokjin’s closed room one last look, and you swore they regarded you with pity. Finally breaking, you let your tears fall the whole way back to your floor, wishing to be made into a sturdy tree in your next life so you never had to feel that way again. 

The next morning found all nine friends situated in various places around Seokjin’s room. You thought it amusing that the boys never really settled for normal seats, always choosing a table or windowsill perch instead. As an avid fan of the floor yourself, apparently, you were once again plopped on the ground in front of the sofa. Only this time, you weren’t drowning in the depths of your past.  

“Looks like the snow piled up high last night, so we might not be able to use the cars,” Namjoon observed after his long fingers created a tiny crack in the curtains. His argyle sweater blended in with the burgundy fabric and the sight put a small smile on your face. 

The action surprised you since you spent the whole night swathed in a blanket of regret, your arms caging your ribs in an attempt to stopper your bleeding heart. If only you were so bold as to allow a confession to fall from your lips. Three words to solve two peoples’ problems.  

But the risk involved was too high. The hurt following an unrequited love confession would haunt you through every sunrise and sunset. 

Jungkook’s exasperated voice sliced through your thoughts. “What are we gonna do then?” You glanced at him right as he threw himself onto Seokjin’s bed, bouncing the other two occupants  like buoys amongst waves. 

“What we can do: stay in,” Yoongi responded while repositioning himself against the headboard. 

Taehyung’s sigh mingled with Rin’s tsking noise, Jungkook’s deeper groan almost in harmony with the both of them. Their melancholic concerto almost pulled a laugh out of you, but the next suggestion came from Hoseok, “I brought some board games we could play. Cards, too.” 

Seokjin quickly shot him a look. “You don’t play board games. Or games. Or cards. Actually, what do you do?” 

“I look after all of you.” Hoseok’s head always bobbed when he spoke to accentuate his points. “Hence why I brought board games and cards just in case!” 

You couldn’t refute the man’s claims, either. Hoseok always made sure everyone packed what they needed before trips but brought extra stuff in the event that the group needed something else. Helping was just part of his nature. Yesterday was one example. Rin got the snacks last night, but you were sure he would have woken up at any point in time to be your comfort food delivery man. If being a leader were a sport, Hoseok would be the dark horse that you never saw coming until they finished first. Then you couldn’t deny their talent and skill. 

Taehyung didn’t let the dark horse live, though. “Thanks, hyung. Did you pack a snowblower, too?” 

Rin’s laugh could always be heard amongst your friends, but not because she was a girl. Hers was just so distinct and heartwarming, like a cozy throw or the thought of cookies in the oven. It was only slightly better than Jimin’s. 

Speaking of which: Jimin was eerily quiet throughout the whole meeting, his gaze lingering on you more than once. You noticed it ever since you burst into Seokjin’s room and lauded the man’s scholastic advancement. Which couldn’t be helped. No matter how painful last night’s conversation was, you still wanted him to know how proud you were. After all, a person could be sporting a dagger through their heart but still have love to give.  

You didn’t know why Jimin was acting strange. The big secret was unveiled but you would come to terms with it. Was he afraid of how you would be feeling? Or was he just sympathizing with you because he assumed you weren’t exactly fine? Talking to him later to iron things out was going to be essential. The multiple glances he threw your way proved too much.  

“I have a pamphlet we can look through,” you responded, waving it in the air like a white flag. The decision to bring it just in case proved to be the right one, even if Rin threw a small fit from having to fumble through her bag for the room key again. Warmth from the thick hoodie swallowing both your body and your bent legs validated the first time you went back into your room. 

Rin stuck her tongue out at you but smiled right after in her best Sour Patch Kid impression. Cute. You breathily laughed before unfolding the flimsy paper. Shifting your eyes along the colorful pages, you started listing out the lodge activities. “Okay, so we have… Kayaking: no. Lake yoga: no. Mountain biking: no…” 

Even though the lodge boasted a huge amount of things to do, the majority of them required there to not be four billion inches of snow outside. Only a few remained, and majority rules determined ski slopes the winner. 

The only issue with the slopes was that they only allowed groups of three at a time. To remedy this, groups were formed and a rotation was set based on a heated tournament of rock-paper-scissors. And while Hoseok didn’t play board games, cards, or even video games, he seemed to be a pro at that. 

He picked Seokjin and Yoongi for his group, and they were going out first, to the eldest’s horror. You saw his anxiousness coming from miles out - tackling snow with one board was much more up his alley than tackling it with two. 

Next, Jungkook chose Namjoon and Jimin since he wanted to somehow “win” on the slopes. They gave him much grief for that. 

And that left you with Rin and Taehyung, but they wanted to check out the spa area first, so your group was going to catch up later. 

Which wasn’t ideal for you. You wanted to watch Seokjin ski. Or really, you just wanted to see him as much as possible before the trip ended. Seok in his presence, like he said. Maybe being pruny in this case was a beautiful thing. 

Room Service knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Jimin let them in to serve the breakfast Seokjin ordered for everyone prior. While the dishes were distributed, the group was already firing bets and insults and digs at each other as if a clear winner would emerge outside. And you welcomed every bit of their energy. Chewing on food while basking in everyone’s competitive nature was enough of a distraction from your woes. At least, until you caught Jimin deep in thought again.

The spa was decent, so you three ended up staying for almost an hour. Both the sauna and facial massage served to ease the thick layer of tenseness under your skin. If only you could transport yourself into a cloud of steam every time you thought about Seokjin. Maybe that would’ve helped with the anxiousness and guilt you felt every time you thought about confessing. 

And you were grateful for Taehyung tagging along because he really did offer free hugs often. Even while Rin scanned over the receipt for everything you guys did, the man slung a lean arm around your shoulders. 

His voice glided over your hair when he leaned in to ask, “How did it go last night?” 

You sighed before responding, debating on how to answer him. You decided to take the easy route. “Good. Better than I expected. I just can’t believe it took him that long to tell me! I was so worried this whole time.” 

Taehyung squeezed you gently. “Finally. We kept telling him to just admit it already.” 

Rin was in the middle of paying when you smiled. Her hair gleamed in the incandescents, and you reached out to touch it as you admitted, “It’s just weird that he wanted to hide that from me.” 

“Well, you’re his ex, so he thought it would’ve been awkward.” 

A laugh shot out of you, and Taehyung gave you a look. “Seokjin’s so strange. He knows I’ve been rooting for him this whole time. I mean, Harvard? That’s incredible.” 

Normally, friends would converse about achievements and be sincerely happy about them. But something else happened in that moment that set alarm bells off in your head. Whether it was Rin becoming a block of ice in front of you, or Taehyung slowly peeling his arm off of your shoulders, you suddenly got a feeling that something wasn’t right.  

When Rin spun around to face you, the expression painted on her face reminded you of those Renaissance pieces you saw during one museum date with your ex. Her eyebrows artfully scrunched; her full lips twisted. Was she on the side of the angels, battling demons? Going to war? 

No, she was just trying to clarify something. “He didn’t say anything else?” 

You gulped. “I mean, yeah?”

“What did he say?” Taehyung furrowed his dark brows, his own face a work of art in itself. 

“That his parents are making him move back to Korea when he’s done with his doctorate,” you revealed, suspicious of the both of them and Seokjin now. You kept your tone level to hide any emotions under the surface. “Why, is there more?” 

Once again, you were swept under the wave of confusion. The waters there were dark and cold, and you felt like you couldn’t swim to safety this time. It was as if cotton clogged your ears and a thin film coated your vision. You didn’t even register Taehyung furiously typing on his phone while Rin led you all out of the spa’s reception area. 

“Do you want there to be more,” was all she offered before sitting you down on an earthly toned loveseat. The fluffy rug under your shoes snagged most of your attention. 

“I don’t know how to answer that, but I guess not,” you finally grunted, feeling angrier and angrier from being left in the dark again. Comparable to a disease, this dangerous feeling was taking over you, trickling into your veins drop by black drop. “Honestly, I kinda just want to go back to the room until we meet for dinner. Whatever you guys are hiding is starting to piss me off.” 

“Let’s go,” Rin agreed, urging you to get up and follow her to the room. But you shook her off. 

“I’ll go by myself.” Buzzing with anger, you shuffled through your bag to grip your key. “Just let me be alone for a bit.”

Taehyung looked absolutely livid, but he nodded along with Rin. You didn’t watch the two of them share a knowing glance as you drug your crumpling form to the stairs, hoping pieces of you didn’t crumble off before you reached your temporary bed.  

From the moment your tired bones hit your comforter, time traveled at a strange pace. You didn’t know how long you spent lying prone on the sheets, your head lolled towards the window. Watching the light snowfall outside did nothing to bring you out of your dark space. 

Being left out, confused, and feeling betrayed left you mentally drained. How long were you going to feel like this? Like you were just going to keep being lied to? Maybe you weren’t outwardly lied to, but omitting something was still considered a lie. The truth was still held captive and you couldn’t even pay it a visit. 

Rin and Taehyung reacted strongly to what you said. That had to mean whatever else Seokjin was supposed to say to you was big. You weren’t stupid. At least, that’s what you concluded. 

But what if you were this time? 

You loathed this feeling. You hated being looked at with pity. Even Rin knew what was left unsaid this time, so you were truly alone in the dark. 

A dark monster within you rose to life, and you ripped yourself from the sheets. Snatching your coat from the couch, you jerked your arms inside, striding toward your door with purpose. A ball of fury, you were determined to march up the slopes and confront Seokjin. Everything was getting ridiculous. 

Tugging the door open, you flinched at the figure waiting on the other side. A brief moment of silence and bewilderment and worry washed over you, quelling a small part of your harbored anger. “What happened to you?” 

Seokjin stood in front of you wrapped in his puffy coat, hair in disarray and a small gash on his cheek. His nose was red with the cold and a small cut, and his eyes looked as if he had been holding back tears. Tears? Was he crying? Even now, it seemed like a few were threatening to fall as his gaze lowered. A ghost of a voice wafted from his mouth as he replied, “Jimin.” 

You winced. Remembering the glances the younger man gave you this morning, you should have seen a conflict brewing. Your friend wasn’t lying when he said he’d give Seokjin hell. Something must have broken out when they were on the slopes, or anytime you weren’t there with them. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 

If you didn’t have that revelation with Rin and Taehyung, you would have been absolutely thrown by Seokjin’s appearance and the cause of it. But it seemed that both groups found out what he told you last night and neither were pleased with the result. What that result was, you couldn’t determine yet. But based on your own categories, “I got into Harvard” and “I’m moving back to Korea” fit in the Should Know box. The Deserved to Know box was still accepting applications. 

“Come in.” Your fury had to simmer on a proverbial stove for the time being. “I have a first aid kit in my bag.” 

You hurried him into the room before making a beeline for your duffle. The adrenaline built while you were fired up was still thrumming your bones like guitar strings. Nothing more was said as your bag crinkled with your rummaging, even though you wanted to just wring answers from his neck already. 

But you couldn’t. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, both the past woes you were fighting and your current worries. 

As Jin awkwardly stood in front of your bed, you kept pondering. What the hell happened out there? How did it end up in a physical altercation? Did Jin fight back? It was already obvious Jimin initiated it, but you wondered if he sported any bruises, too. Not from Seokjin, though. Because you couldn’t ever see him throwing a punch. You were more curious about someone like Yoongi. The elder one was incredibly protective of Jin.

When you found the kit, you spun around to start tending to your ex’s face. “Bed,” you ordered, pointing towards yours with the first aid box. Your tone was harsh, but you weren’t holding it back.

The man was silent as he delicately sat on the comforter, and you instantly noticed how he refused to look at you still. 

No matter. Treating his cuts was a priority, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to force him into confrontation right after. Seokjin wasn’t going to have a choice. 

Perching yourself next to him, you propped one leg up to steady yourself, clicking open the small kit next to you. It wasn’t as fancy as the one he carried along, but it housed the basics. Fetching some antiseptic and cotton first, you told him to turn towards you so that you could start. 

And despite your anger, your exasperation, your frustration, the hands you lifted to Seokjin’s face were nothing but calm. 

Throughout the time you dusted his cuts, you kept your gaze on his cheek, his mouth, his nose. A wall erected around you that you refused to take down. After all of the hurt Seokjin had caused, the turmoil he had put you through, it was pertinent you wouldn’t let him in. You had your soldiers’ arrows at the ready, directed right at his wounded face. 

But if you so much as flitted your gaze toward his eyes, your walls would crumble to dust. Your gates would slam open in surrender. 

Because having him this close to you after all this time was like coming home. And you harbored that feeling ever since the scent of his cologne consumed you. Your face hovered inches from his, your fingers gently pressing his features. All of the nights you yearned to be this close were so lonely and cold, and his warmth was tugging your heart by multiple strings. 

His looming absence was hitting you deeply then. If you gave in only to lose him again, the pain would surely hollow out your soul until you were a mere shell of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress and slip down into the soil underneath the lodge. 

Suddenly, a hand cradled your cheek, and you shook on impact. Without thinking, you locked eyes with Jin, and it was then that you realized he was wiping hot tears from your face. 

“If I’m the reason for these,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Something strangled escaped you, and you finally caved. “You are,” you exhaled, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You really are.”

You tore yourself from the bed, instantly feeling the lingering warmth of his fingers fade. A chasm was created between you two: your chest heaving on one side and his face crumbling on the other. The mountain of thoughts and feelings you created broke down under pressure, emotions roaring down its slopes in a cathartic avalanche. “I’ve been looking like a fool this whole trip, and apparently everyone is feeling so fucking sorry for me. Why can’t you just tell me everything? What did Yoongi mean? What do I deserve to know? You told me you got into Harvard and have the audacity to say you aren’t happy? What the hell is that about? We’re supposed to be friends, so why am I feeling like you’re letting that all go?” You choked on your tears and clasped a hand over your mouth, a burn blossoming in your chest from the dry sobs. 

Seokjin’s eyes ringed with a burgeoning shade of pink, both of his pupils glossed in guilt. “I’m not… I’m not letting that go, but--”

“But what, Seokjin,” you gritted out, “Please stop and just tell me already.” 

“But I was too scared,” he admitted, “I’m still scared.” 

“Why are you scared?” The question drifted to his face, and you could tell he was struggling to answer even that one. It pained you to be this close yet so far from the answer.

“Why are you scared, Seokjin,” you whispered again, realizing that his hands were shaking. 

“Because…” You watched as he clenched them on his thighs, and he struggled to get the words out. “Because it’s going to happen again.” 

Enough with the obscurity. Frustration reached a boiling point. “What’s going to happen again?” 

“Exactly what happened last time!” Seokjin declared as his eyes pleaded with you, eyebrows furrowed and kneeling in anguish. The skin encasing his watery eyes remained that same dusty shade of affliction. 

You couldn’t for the life of you understand what he was saying, until you remembered last night. When you asked him about the time he loved before. 

Wait.

Your hand made a slow descent from your face as you matched Seokjin’s stare. A million words skittered across your eyes, transforming into liquid and sliding down your skin. You were sure you looked an absolute wreck with your tear-stained cheeks and reddened nose, but that didn’t concern you at all. The only thing you could hang onto was Jin’s words, just short of a confession. 

But you had to be sure. You weren’t settling for five words that could mean a thousand other things while arranged the same way. “The one from before,” you more stated than questioned, “Where is she now.” 

Seokjin never broke his gaze, doing an incredible job of keeping tears at the edges of his eyes. Heavy breaths caused his chest to swell with each pass. Voice low, he finally, finally caved, “She’s the one on the polaroid I have in my room.” 

The entire conversation from last night struck you like a freight train. So many realizations hit you at once and you didn’t know how your trembling legs were keeping you upright. 

It was you. He was talking about you. 

Your coat smothered your limbs like a cage, your whole being rattling inside like an animal starved. 

That was what he was truly hiding from you. That was what he had buried deep down into his chest. And you couldn’t blame him one bit after you realized it was exactly what you were holding from him, too. 

No matter the reason, you still kept your own truth hidden. It occurred to you then that you couldn’t be angry - that would just be hypocrisy. There was bravery in confession, and even more so to someone you no longer were allowed to feel that way about. 

You were the one that forced the truth out of Seokjin, and now you only felt like a coward. 

Movement in front of you snapped your vision back into focus. He was getting up to leave. Why was he leaving? 

“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” 

Oh. He assumed your silence was from guilt. Guilt that you didn’t feel the same. And he was about to walk out with that egregious misconception. What an absolute fool.

But no matter how hard you tried, the words wouldn’t budge from the back of your teeth. 

You had two choices here. One, you told him. You laid everything out and you admitted that you felt the same. Then tomorrow, he would leave your life and you may not see him again for years. And you tried this before - being in two separate schools and living different lives while holding onto your relationship. It obviously didn’t work last time, and you still saw him from time to time. This situation would be a thousand times harder. 

Which brought you to the second option: you let him go. You let him leave without telling him how you felt. Rip the bandage off right there and then. Leave him to pursue his dream, and with that the freedom to go and find someone else to love. Was that what you wanted? Was this your own sick version of loving him? All the villains in the universe would applaud you as you lied to his face while telling him not to give up. How fucking cruel would that be?

“Seokjin,” you called out, and your chest subtly heaved when he turned to stone by the door. His broad back remained still as you took a step towards him, and only after you roamed your eyes over his shoulders did you notice small movements. But he didn’t face you. It was almost as if he didn’t want to.

Agony consumed your entire being as you made your decision. 

You shut your eyes, clenched your jittering fingers into hard fists. 

“See you at the campfire,” you whispered, your voice unfamiliar even to yourself. 

The only response you got was the soft opening and closing of your door.

Compared to last night’s lion of a snow storm, tonight was but a mere cub. There were small flakes here and there taking their time to descend, and the fixtures from inside the lodge were the only light source beside the fire pit you were approaching downstairs. 

Situated in the center of your friends, the flames danced across their jovial smiles as they passed bottles around. The drinks weren’t the lodge’s, but the ones you all brought and snuck out of the rooms - the telltale green glass was enough of a hint. 

After Seokjin left, it took you a couple minutes to let everything out, and about thirty minutes crying into Rin’s shoulder once she witnessed your crumpled form on the floor. She listened to your recap of the conversation and Jin’s final secret, and through broken sobs you told her you couldn’t tell him yours. When she asked why, you told her your reasoning. When she called you an idiot, you wholeheartedly agreed and cried even harder. 

But you still stuck with your decision. It was for the best. You loved him so much that you wanted what was best for him, and that was to let you go. 

“Promise me one thing,” Rin murmured, earning a nod from you. “Only go through with it if you know you won’t regret it.” 

A sharp pain sliced through you then, but you acquiesced. “I won’t.” 

She then grabbed your Polaroid from the bed. It was Namjoon’s idea to bring it to the campfire once he heard you brought it on the trip. “Are you okay with this?” 

“Yeah,” you gulped, regarding the old piece of the past with heavy eyes. Seokjin confessed to you with the help of that camera. You weren’t okay with the mere idea of touching it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight, so. Yes.” 

Even if that meant you suffered. This was Seokjin’s last trip with everyone, not just you. Why keep them from making good memories just because you were a walking dark cloud?

You reached the bottom of the rickety stairs, the squeaky noises catching the attention of the boys. Most of them raised their bottles to you, but you caught Jin staring at the fire instead. 

If you got through this night in one piece, it would be a miracle.

Namjoon stood as you and Rin settled into your seats. “Okay. Since we’re all here now, I say we start.” 

As everyone gave their cheers, the eldest just looked confused. “Start what?”

“Something for you,” Yoongi explained, his body already comfortable in his Adirondack. “Since you aren’t joining us for these anymore.”

“Ah, yah,” Seokjin protested, “You don’t need to do anything—”

“Don’t lie, you already love this,” Jimin cut in, all smiles despite the companion bruises and cuts on his face to Jin’s. “Although, your opinion may change in a second.”

Jungkook paused his leg bouncing to shout, “Let hyung explain!” 

You smiled as the group settled, but noticed that Jimin was looking at you strangely. You didn’t have time to process it, though, since Namjoon headed things off while a bottle rested against his chest, “Jin-hyung. We just want you to know that we’re proud of you. Even though we may not see you for awhile, you’ll be in our hearts and on our minds. Starting tomorrow, you’re already Dr. Kim to us, so I say we all call you by name tonight.”

Laughter and claps filled the air, drowning out Seokjin’s weak protests. 

Namjoon cleared his throat to calm the air, and you watched small flakes catch in his hair as he continued, “We’ll each do two things: give you advice, and ask for advice. Since you’re clearly educated, we figured you’d have a lot to say.”

“Oh, I’m just lucky.” 

“And keep sharp, everyone. Miss Photographer over there will be taking pictures.” Namjoon nodded at you, and you gave a short smile while holding up the Polaroid. You were fine doing this; behind the lens was your safe space. 

The boys and Rin slowly got through their questions and advice, and you were shocked by how insightful Seokjin was being. You never truly realized the magnitude of his intelligence. Every person around the campfire hung on his every word, and it didn’t help that you all took a swig after every good point he made - many, many times. You diligently fired away on your camera, making sure to get Seokjin with everyone so they could all have a moment captured with him. 

When Jimin’s turn came, he shot you a glance before looking at your ex. “Jin. That sounds weird to say. Jin-hyung.” He looked at the ground before continuing, and you knew it was to compose himself. “My advice to you… Sorry,” he buried his head in his elbow for a brief moment. Yoongi looked away. 

“I kinda gave you advice already,” Jimin trudged on, “And you took it. So, my next piece of advice would be to, uh, keep going.” 

You were rooted to your chair. Seokjin didn’t spare you a single glance during that exchange, but you knew it was about you. It had to be how he ended up at your door earlier. He even said Jimin was the one responsible for his wounds. 

“Thank you, Jimin,” Jin replied. “As for my advice to you, it’s okay to let people figure things out on their own. You don’t have to put it on yourself to be the one that keeps people together. If something ends up breaking, you’re going to think it’s your fault.” 

Jimin regarded him with watery eyes before nodding and wiping his freezing tears. And when he looked your way, he saw you only looking at Seokjin. Your face was slowly cracking, and the shadows in your facade were exacerbated by the flames. 

It was your turn; everyone else went. The Polaroid felt like a boulder on your thighs.

You blinked before setting the camera down and clutching your bottle. Since Seokjin was on the other side of the fire, you had to stand to see him, your tenseness on full display. 

What could you possibly say in that moment that he wanted to hear? That he was willing to listen to? You were certain you took his heart and slammed it into the ground earlier. It would be better if you just didn’t say anything. 

“Seokjin,” you started, pausing to collect yourself. “My advice to you is to forget the advice I gave you before.” 

Several pairs of eyes looked at you then. Even Jin finally regarded you, the most aware of what you were referring to.

“What I’m trying to say is: it’s okay to give up sometimes, because not everything that you want to happen is going to happen. There will be times you will just have to let things go. And that’s okay. Because maybe letting things go would end up for the best.” 

Jimin’s eyes bore into your soul. He sat so still that it put all the statues throughout history to shame. 

Seokjin grabbed his bottle with both hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Interesting advice.” His eyes danced as they took in the warm flames. “I might even follow it.” 

Both of your lungs threatened to give out at his words. Your hands almost dropped the glass you were barely clinging to, but you never looked away from Jin. It was as if your attention was chained to his body, your soul weighed down by his earlier confession and now his possible break. 

If he followed your advice, shouldn’t you be happy? It’s what you wanted in the end, right? You would let him go, and he wouldn’t look back. 

Snow drifted onto everyone’s chairs and the fire crackled in front of you. A small breath left you in a wisp of white. Warmth did its best to help you, but the cold was too strong. No amount of fire in the world could melt your icy conscience - you truly left Seokjin in the dark. He practically admitted that he loved you, and in return you gave him nothing. Of course he would consider your advice.  

“But I like the sound of not giving up. It has a ring to it that exists beyond the sound it makes when someone says it,” he cut himself off, the silence deafening. Inside, bells rang in your head. What was he implying? Seokjin’s voice was as clear as blue skies when he continued, “So, I guess I’m stealing your advice and giving it to everyone here.” 

Your gaze shifted to the side as everyone turned towards Seokjin. This was something you weren’t prepared to digest. Settling back down into your chair, you tried to even out your breathing and neutralize your shaking fingers. 

Your feelings were warring with each other in a confusing battle. If you wanted him to follow your advice, why were you relieved when he said he liked not giving up? Did that mean you hoped he still waited for you? Years and years and years from now? 

“Take it from me: don’t give up,” he advised. “But what I mean by that is to not give up until you’re happy.” 

Guilt squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your lids down. He was going to wait. Love was the one thing he wanted to be happy. And you held your love for him tightly in your hands, behind your back and hidden from sight. 

But even still, in the midst of your silent rejection, this man wasn’t letting go. Without saying the words, Seokjin was going to wait for you. Because he still loved you. 

This was too hard. 

“To being happy,” Jimin boisterously cheered, startling everyone and causing your bones to rattle. His glass remained high in the air, and everyone joined in with their own proclamations. 

“To being happy,” you whispered alongside the others, quickly taking a swig.

Yoongi was the next one to pipe up as he declared, “Okay, now that all that’s done, let’s just drink for fuck’s sake.” 

Amongst the laughter and “thank god”s thrown about, you quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was your lifeline. You needed more than liquid courage to get through the rest of the night. The camera by your feet was snatched up by Jungkook before Taehyung could get to it, and you prayed to every higher power that they kept it in one piece. 

As everyone made their way back to their rooms, you noticed Seokjin joking and laughing with the others like normal. It was a continuation of the rest of the night, since after the advice conversation it was nothing but fun. Your Polaroid almost ran out of film, for one, but watching everyone fight over the photos was entertainment in itself. There were digs toward Jin until he turned red, jabs thrown at Jimin’s fragile emotional state, and Rin’s warm laughter coating everything in a soft glow. 

And it was a bittersweet event. There was nothing more you wanted than to capture that moment and place it in a snowglobe. The world wouldn’t interfere with your friends, and none of you would ever leave. 

Seokjin was about to head up the stairs to tuck in for the night. Full of soju and stupidity, you blurted, “Leaving already?” 

He stilled before turning toward you. “Oh. Yeah.” He regarded you with a look you couldn’t completely decipher. “Long day tomorrow.” 

“Right,” you replied, hating the sudden hollowness you felt. Or didn’t feel. 

“Well… Good night.” Seokjin tapped the banister twice before heading up, and you softly wished him good night before speedwalking to your room. You were only tipsy, so the fast trip didn’t bother you. The camera in your hands kept your center balanced the whole way back.

By some strange miracle, you kept it together the whole time after everyone’s campfire speeches. You imagined yourself as an ice sculpture, surrounded by the guests of honor. Everyone gave you a glance and thought nothing else of you. They could only see composure and poise. Only when they got closer could they see you slowly melting, rivulets of remorse cascading down your entire frame.

Rin was in the middle of her skincare routine when you entered your room. As soon as she heard your footsteps, she made a noise indicating she had something to say. The product around her mouth didn’t let her yet, though. Which meant you had to wait. 

You stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, vision spinning just a smidge. This was probably a talk you didn’t want to have, but you gave your friend her podium. It was only fair. Her serious talks were few and far between. 

But she didn’t have much to say when she finished getting ready for bed. In fact, she only said three sentences. 

“It’s 11 o’clock,” she stated plainly, her tone indicating she was done with the calmer approach. Bluntness was more her style. 

“Okay?” 

“We leave at 7 in the morning.” 

“And?” 

“It means you have eight hours to decide how you’re going to feel for the next ten years.” 

Silence. 

All you could respond with was silence. 

Dead air. Sober. You were sober now. In that moment, you may have held your breath for a century. Too many thoughts flooded your brain, from past memories at a carnival to future images of an empty apartment with a bed fit for one. 

It was stark. Blank. There wasn’t going to be a future with Seokjin, no matter what you said. 

But when Rin put it that way, would you feel better if he knew the truth? Or would you keep this idiotic stance and lock your feelings away forever? 

For the third time that night, your fingers rattled. Rin took them into her comforting palms. 

“Go,” she murmured, and she smiled as she witnessed you burst into the hall. 

Your strides were incredibly long as you hurried down the corridor. The doors blurred on either side of your vision, the pattern of the floor elongated with your fast pace. Your camera thudded into your chest over and over. Step after step after step got faster and faster as your anxiousness bubbled into your brain. The last turn before the stairs made you skid, and you rushed up the rickety steps. Your heart was thrumming, scratching at your chest to set it free. 

When you got to his door, you were certain you woke sleeping neighbors with your rapid knocking. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Nothing could possibly stop you now.

You had no plan. There wasn’t time to think. All you wanted was to see him. All you could think about was letting everything out. Eight hours. You had eight hours.

Seokjin tugged the door open, pausing mid-swing when he saw your face. He looked so beautiful. Full of warmth. Like home.

“Jinnie.” 

You didn’t mean to call him that, but you didn’t take it back. You weren’t taking anything back anymore. His eyes roamed over your features multiple times, searching for any indication that this was a dream. But it wasn’t. The words finally slipped from your lips. 

“I’m not following your advice. Or my own.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, but you pushed on. 

“I’m giving up. But I’m giving up because I can’t let you go.” When Seokjin stared at you, it was impossible to look away. 

His response came out in a rush, “What are you… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you.” You huffed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Damn it, I— I just love you. I love you so much it hurts.” 

A shaky exhale left you at the look on his face. The quick descent into realization formed in the corners of his eyes, tears pooled at the edges before quickly streaming down his cheeks, collecting at the crux of his chin. Glassy orbs bore straight into your soul in search of answers, of truth. And if he wanted those answers, you already admitted the biggest one, so words were easier to come by.

“I’ve felt this way ever since our trip last year,” you started, slowly inching toward the wreck of a man. Not like you fared any better with the streaks forming on your own cheeks. “And I know it’s the stupidest thing to tell you now since you’re leaving, and we failed at long distance before, but--” 

Seokjin breathed out your name, and his next words would stay imprinted in your mind forever. “I still want to try. And I’ll try as many times as you’ll let me.” 

“I know. I know that now,” you whispered. 

Passion and warmth bloomed in your chest, spiraling out into the far reaches of your limbs. Hundreds of nights imagining him accepting you again didn’t prepare you for this feeling. Nothing was holding you back; your walls came crashing down. 

You finally broke and shielded your face in your hands, and you felt sturdy arms shield you from the world. The cruel, beautiful world that brought you two together right before he disappeared from your life again. You cried, and sobbed, and wheezed. The elation from his confession only magnified the pain of his departure. 

You felt the weight of the Polaroid leave your chest as Seokjin lifted it from your neck. “Come inside,” Seokjin whispered into your hair, earning a hiccup from your chest. “Please.” 

It was only then that you noticed you were still out in the hall. A small nod from you was all he needed to guide you into his room, and your throat constricted at the bags lying open on the bed. 

Seokjin was already packing. Packing while thinking he was going to go through the same thing he went through last time. You felt absolutely sick. How could you even think of doing this to him? If there was a way to make it all up to him, you would do it. “I didn’t want to tell you before,” you confessed, burying your nose into his chest. “But that was wrong of me. You almost left without knowing. I’m so sorry.” 

Strong, lean fingers traveled through your hair as your camera was placed on a table. The heavy clunk it made reached your ears, and a whisper followed. “I didn’t want to tell you, either. You don’t need to apologize.” 

“If I told you earlier, we would’ve had more time. Now I’m just sad.”  

“Look at me.” Jin caressed the back of your head, naturally lifting your gaze. His watery eyes took yours in, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of your hair. “We still have tonight, so if we’re going to be sad, let’s wait until after.” 

“But you’re crying, too,” you observed, feeling slightly better from his words. How Seokjin was able to have that effect on you, you would never understand. 

A light huff from him made you melt. “That’s because I’m so happy,” he confessed, softly laughing again and wiping his eyes with both hands. 

He was happy. Seokjin was happy. You looked at the growing smile under his fingers, and you had no choice but to grin and join in his laughter. 

Not because it was funny. But because it was unbelievable. You were able to gift him the last piece he was missing - he was finally able to find that happiness. How were you about to deny that from him? Now it seemed unfathomable.

When you looked at his hands again, you noticed there were lingering cuts. Worry washing over you, you cradled one in your palms and asked as Seokjin looked at you, “Should I take care of this, too?” Though the man had more than enough knowledge on playground injury care, you still offered because you wanted to be there for him in any possible way.

He replied instantly, “I took care of everything. Jimin, too. You saw him being his usual self earlier.” 

“He said he’d give you hell if you didn’t talk to me on this trip. I didn’t think he would go this far, though.” You reached up to run a thumb along the small gash on Seokjin’s cheek, the blood drying into a deep red. “I’ll make him regret it later.” 

Jin leaned into your touch, causing sparks in your skin. “Don’t,” he whispered, “He’s the reason I ended up at your door.” 

You just nodded and lost yourself in the feel of his soft face. It was incredibly smooth under your fingers, even better than when you held his cheeks all those years ago. To think that this man loved you ever since then, and continued to do so until now, was unbelievable. But it was true, and no amount of words could account for how you felt about that. 

Those eyes overflowing with adoration and affection were solely for you, and diving into them felt like being immersed in sunlit waters. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The simple question took you by surprise, but you gazed at his lips. They only looked inviting, so who were you to deny him? “Please,” you sighed, and your eyelids closed shut at his pillowy touch. 

Color sprang from your heart at his confession, but heat burst from your chest at his kiss. The moment his lips met yours, every worry wrapped around your conscience snapped in two. Vines of doubt, regret, and anxiety withered under the warmth of Seokjin’s touch. It was cleansing. Powerful. Searing. 

A hand captured the back of your neck, and Jin took advantage of your gasp by dragging his tongue around the edge of your lips, a wordless plea to let him in. You gave in immediately, leaning forward and deepening the kiss, roping his tongue and eliciting a groan. 

Heat rushed between your legs and you echoed his sound with a soft moan of your own. Unwittingly, your hands found their way to Seokjin’s chest and you reveled in the feel of him under the thin material of his shirt. Without breaking your lips from his, you skirted the cotton hem with your fingers.  

Jin knew what you wanted, and his grin against your mouth only made you flush with desire. He broke from your lips to fully remove his shirt, and seeing his bare chest wiped the air from your lungs. You could only stare as you took in the lines of his solid build, wondering how the hell he had the time to achieve that look. 

Seokjin smirked at your reaction, tossing his top and hauling the bags off his bed while you were taking time to process everything. “Do I need to charge you?” 

You shook your empty head like a zombie. Your brain was currently mush, purely focused on the way his muscles rippled and slid against the confines of his skin. “No, don’t. I didn’t bring any money with me.” 

Laughter erupted from the other side of the bed. After Seokjin placed the last bag on the floor, he straightened and clarified, “I meant plug you in. You seem to be buffering over there. Low battery?”

“Shut up and get on the bed,” you teased, shrugging off the coat you still had on. You didn’t even get to change since coming in from the campfire. 

“Shut up and get on the bed, yes,” Seokjin fired back mercilessly as he sat on the comforter. He knew exactly how to push you. Even though you laughed, you made you way over to him and stood between his legs. 

You were silent then. No matter how happy you were, his departure tomorrow was weighing on you. The time you had with him was short. 

You wanted to make the most of it. Bringing your hand up to his face, you made sure to lightly skim over his gashes before mapping the rest. You wanted to ingrain every curve, every dip, every feature into memory. Every second was precious. The polaroid you had of him would still be no match for the real thing. If only you could capture the warmth of someone and keep it frozen in time.

Sure fingers clasped your hand, and Seokjin softly pulled you closer. Your first instinct was to rush in and hug him for dear life, and he immediately did the same to you, snatching the breath from your lungs and tugging tears from your ducts. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent and lamenting all the time you spent worrying over the smallest things. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Seokjin whispered, squeezing your heart. 

“I know,” you choked. You didn’t have much else to say.

“I just want to make sure we use it to do what you want.” 

You loosened your hold on him, astonished by his consideration. The growing bulge under his pants was more than screaming his wants. You felt it ever since the first kiss. But even still, he wanted to accommodate you. Your needs before his. 

It just made you fall for him even more. 

Reaching down to skim your fingers along his cock straining against his pants, you hovered your lips over his neck. “I want you,” you whispered before descending upon the smooth expanse of skin and earning a groan. 

Without warning, Seokjin tightened his arms around you. In one smooth motion, he effortlessly lifted you to straddle his thighs. You didn’t have time to think as he followed up with grabbing your head, pulling you down for another heated kiss. Your fingers latched onto his shoulders, scraping them when he thrust his tongue into your mouth. 

“Don’t do that yet,” he grunted, and you didn’t need to ask why after feeling a twitch in his jeans. 

You obeyed for the time being, cupping his neck with both hands. When you rolled your body against his, the hard feel of his stomach made you whimper. It was when you settled back on his hardness that your eyes widened. You were sure he was aching despite his silence. Maybe you could help him out a bit. “Jinnie,” you whispered, a firm hand on his chest, “Lie back for me.” 

“I love hearing that again,” Seokjin admitted through a content smile, starting a fire across your cheeks. He leaned back after giving you another peck, and you plucked yourself from his thighs to take your shoes off. 

But time was your biggest motivator to strip most of your clothes at that moment - not just your boots. Your pants were first, followed by your sweater, and finally your shirt. The whole time, Seokjin stayed propped on his elbows, watching you intently. He couldn’t hide the adoration in his eyes even if he tried. As he watched you stand there in nothing but your set, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered in return. “Still not as great as you, though.” You started unbuttoning his jeans before he could defend his stance, and he lifted his lower body to help you shrug them off with his underwear. When Seokjin’s thick cock sprung free, your heart jumped at the sight. It had been so long since you felt it, tasted it, rode it. Was he thinking the same? Taking his velvety length in your hand for the first time in a long time, you felt a burst of confidence at its familiarity and his response.

“Baby,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please.” 

You didn’t need another word. At the sound of the familiar pet name, you already started hovering over his cock, admiring how pretty it was before diving in. Licking around the head, you used the slick to glide your mouth far down his shaft, rolling your hand along the bottom to coat the rest. 

Seokjin jolted at the sudden pleasure, and you felt a pang in your heart. You wanted him to remember this night. And you were much more experienced than you were before, though you would only get so much time to prove your growth. 

Coming up for air, you used your hand to gather the rest of your spit and slide it down his cock, rubbing it a few times before diving down again. The stilted, garbled noises coming from your filled mouth were even getting your own underwear soaked, but they weren’t a match for Seokjin’s. His delicious grunts and moans sent you close to the edge. They were deeper than you remembered, and he wasn’t one to shy away from showing you how turned on and pleasured he was feeling.

The prominent veins of his cock were the roads along which your tongue traveled, and you made sure to love them all in between stuffing him fully in your warm mouth. He was so big, but you wanted to take every inch, tears welling in your eyes with your efforts. 

You fought through even when you felt him rock the back of your throat. Seokjin took that moment to sit up, causing tears to leak fully down your cheeks at the deeper thrust. His hands dove into your hair, but he didn’t force your head down. Instead, they tugged you off his cock, and he gazed down lovingly at your wrecked expression. Jin’s voice dipped an octave and came out coated in sin as he asked, “Can you go a little more for me, beautiful?” 

Your body tingled on instinct. You nodded and, when he smiled, you gripped his drenched dick in your fingers before descending your mouth onto his balls. Seokjin bucked his hips forward in a jolt as you grinned, lapping at his salty skin and delighting in the tremulous groans rolling down your back. Your hand squeezed the tip of his shaft before you straightened again, taking his cock captive without pause.

“Shit,” he grunted, his long fingers diving into your hair. His hands still didn’t push you down further, oddly, so you took the initiative and plunged down yourself. 

The feel of his cock in your mouth was so familiar. It was almost second nature how easily you sucked him off, knowing when to hollow your cheeks and pull him further down the abyss of ecstasy. When to sink further and hum, ripping a delicious sound from his throat. Even when to bob and swirl your head around, effectively shutting down his ability to function. 

It was then that you chose to really bring it home. You breathed through your nose as you took more and more of him in, even after you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt your nose hit this pubic bone, and the long moan you got from Seokjin was worth the burn in your throat. His fingers tightened around your head, but when you came up gasping for air he didn’t stop you. 

“Come here,” is all he said, tugging you up to straddle him again. A trail of saliva swung from your lips as you came up, but you paid it no mind. If anything, it added to the building lust inside your bones. Your panties were absolutely drenched by now, so dragging your core along Seokjin’s cock caused both of you to twinge. “Fuck,” he gasped, fueling your heat. 

“Jinnie, please,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse. You wanted everything from him at once. You were getting impatient, and the overwhelming time pressure was stressing you the hell out. “I need you, please.” 

Suddenly, everything stopped as Seokjin cradled your chin and swiped the spit from your lips. “You have me,” he assured you. “You have all of me.” He kissed your nose. “And you’ll have me for a very long time.” 

Relenting, you leaned into his touch. “Now is what I’m concerned about.” 

“I know,” he agreed before kissing you again. “I just wanted you to know the rest.” 

“Okay,” you whispered before capturing his full lips with your own. When you felt him wrapping his arms around you, your heart leaped into your throat. When you felt him shift the both of you to lower you onto the bed, you already knew fresh tears were waiting behind your eyes. 

With great care, Jin slipped your underwear off your smooth legs. Your bra was deftly unhooked next - not without an eyebrow raise from you and a wink from him - and tossed from the bed. 

Staring at your naked form, Seokjin appeared completely lost in thought. It got to the point where you felt like covering yourself, but when you attempted to he swiftly denied any insecurity. “Don’t keep this from me,” he whispered. “I want to remember everything.” 

You kept it together until then. Something in you broke and you softly choked on a cry. So he was thinking the same as you. This was the last night for a long time. 

Starting from your shoulder, he kissed his way down along your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Taking one breast in one hand, he swirled his tongue around the nipple of the other. You gasped from the sudden burst of pleasure, which made Seokjin repeat the motion on the other side. He then lightly sucked on the nipple, releasing it with a small pop. 

You wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the waves of pleasure he was giving you, making his way down your body. But you wanted to relive this night again and again. So you had to keep your eyes on him. Only him. His mouth’s searing heat as it kissed along your stomach, and the stark cold left behind when he moved on. His soft touch as he gently pried your legs open, and dark, lust-filled eyes as he stared at your dripping entrance. You wanted to remember the way he kissed along your legs, nipping in some places to make you gasp. The way his beautiful lips connected with your heat in a reverent kiss before his tongue explored inside. Each flick of his tongue, squeeze of his fingers on your legs, noise from his lips. How you loved him through every second of him worshipping you. 

As soon as he brought his fingers up to caress your folds while sucking on your clit, you had to stop him. It was too much. You wanted to feel him when you broke. 

Seokjin wordlessly obeyed as he crawled above you. You pulled him down for a kiss, not caring how he tasted. Your hands then went to his shoulders as he positioned himself at your entrance. 

“Are you still…” 

“Yes,” you nodded, touched that he remembered. “I’m still on it.” 

“Okay.” He swooped down to capture your lips, and when you clenched your fingers around his shoulders, he grunted. “Are you okay to take it all?” 

“Go slow. For now,” you said, earning a nod. “It’s been awhile.”

Seokjin’s gaze was heavy as he prepared himself. “Same.” 

At the initial push, you whooshed out a gasp. It had been way too long since you’d been with someone. The intrusion indeed hurt. Maybe you should have let him prep you more, in hindsight. But Seokjin was nothing but tender as he waited for you to adjust. Once you were okay, he steadily pushed out and in again, going deeper. Slowly but surely, you were able to fully take him in. 

And the feel of him completely inside you was nothing like you’ve felt before. It was comfort. It was home. It was a perfect fit, and you wanted to stay like that forever. 

“God,” Seokjin groaned, “I don’t want to leave this room.” 

You chuckled, rolling your hips. “Hmm, pussy or Harvard. That’s a pretty tough one.” 

“If it’s yours, Harvard can wait,” Seokjin grunted before sending your thoughts spiraling with a huge thrust. You outright whined at him, but he pulled out only to spear you again with one long motion. “You still like it rough, baby?” 

Chills cascaded down your spine and pooled at the apex of your toes. This was the Seokjin you were waiting for. You wondered if he was still into that after witnessing everything he was doing for you beforehand. But oh, were you ready for the pivot. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned. “You know I do.” 

“You still have your word?” 

“Carousel, yes.” 

“Good girl.” That was all Seokjin needed. Grabbing the top of the headboard behind you, he launched into a rough and relentless pace that had you seeing stars. You felt so full, yet so weightless as you let your body go limp. The feel of Seokjin’s cock slamming into you repeatedly would continue to exist for months after tonight, the ridges of it sliding along your walls never forgotten entirely. You needed as much as he could give, and he knew that. 

Gripping one of your legs, he hauled it over his sweat-slicked shoulder and tilted himself to reach a deeper position, twisting his reddened face to plant kisses on your ankle. Mewl after mewl tumbled from your lips at the deep thrusts. 

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Jin commanded while still pounding into you, and you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Your fingers went straight for your jiggling breasts, teasing your nipples and tugging them for his blown out eyes. You moaned, and smirked when you saw Seokjin beginning to lose himself. 

His tell was his scrunched eyebrows, and his eyes shifting down to watch his cock ram into your tight cunt. You still knew, after years. 

You fell into complete ecstasy when he reached down with his free hand to rub your clit between your bodies, loving the way the veins in his arms protruded. Imagining licking along them all made you moan. And you didn’t care if the people around you heard. All of your mewls, moans, whines - they were all for Jin. He could have all of you again and again.  

After one particularly deep thrust, he tugged his cock out, leaving your walls fluttering around an agonizing emptiness. “Turn around. On your knees.” 

“Holy fuck, yes,” you rasped. He wasn’t letting the night go to waste at all. 

Before you even assumed the next position, you felt a hand come down on your ass. The smack jolted you forward in pain, with pleasure settling in its wake. 

“So pretty,” Seokjin whispered, ghosting his hand over the spot he spanked. He gave it another smack before gripping your ass cheeks apart. You assumed he was roving his eyes over your drenched core. “And still so wet.” 

“Just for you,” you affirmed. 

“Just for me,” he repeated before adjusting his knees on the bed to get closer. “But you might be too loud tonight, baby. I’m going to need silence from you this time.” 

Shit. You were never, ever good at this part. But you nodded. What you weren’t expecting right away was the initial stroke to be rough, right down to the hilt. You cried out immediately, earning you a harsh spank. 

Seokjin’s sudden laugh made you chuckle in embarrassment. He breathily joked, “Out of practice?” 

“Something like that,” you admitted, your elbows and grin lost in the sheets. “I’m rusty.” 

“Okay, let’s just do this then.” Jin leaned forward, stretching over you. You groaned at the feel of his solid chest on your soft back, your eyes rolling into your head feeling him completely mold into you for a moment. He got a fluffy pillow from the other side of the bed and let your head rest on it. “Can you bite this for me, my love?” 

The new name spread wildfire across your face. “Yes. That I can do,” you assured him. When you had the material securely in your mouth, you nodded to signal he could continue. 

“Good girl.” And continue Seokjin did. He went right back into the dominant Jin he loved being, and the one you loved being with. There was no mercy in his thrusts, stroke after stroke after stroke. If you lifted your back a little or lowered your butt, he smacked your supple flesh and corrected you instantly. “Ass up, baby.” 

With Jin’s relentless pace, your body went limp and hung on by a thread. Loosening up allowed for even more of his cock, and your muffled moans started getting louder the closer and closer you got to the edge. You could feel your core tightening, threatening to unleash the pent up tension. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” Seokjin praised, feeling your walls squeeze around him. “Do you want to come like this?”

You hastily shook your head. You wanted to see him when you came. And if you remembered correctly, he loved seeing your face when it happened, as well.

“Too bad,” he chuckled darkly, and you almost came undone right then. “Guess you’ll have to come again the way you want to later.” Reaching under you, he toyed with your clit as he kept the pace from behind. 

You let go of the pillowcase as you kicked your head back in a moan, your saliva trail slowly gravitating toward the sheets. Seokjin only let you breathe for a second before pushing your head back down into the thin material. “Make noise again and you won’t come at all.”

Fuck. You bit hard into the pillow, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself losing control. His fingers felt divine on your bundle of nerves, his dick sliding through your folds over and over and over. The hand he placed on your head smoothed over your hair before bunching it and tugging. You reared back, dots swimming in your vision. “God, I want to choke you. Can I do that, my love?” 

You released the pillow from your mouth again. His consideration was top notch tonight. Too much? You couldn’t decide or really care. “Yes, just do it. Do anything. Please. I’m so close.” 

“Mm. Then cover your mouth.” Before you could follow his command, Seokjin pulled you up by a shoulder to be flush against his front. Sweat coated your back and your ass, causing you to slide down his chiseled stomach while speared on his cock. A strong hand wrapped around your throat, and the fingers that were teasing your clit mercilessly now ventured into the front of your folds. 

One of your hands shot up to clamp over your mouth right before you let out a long groan. You loved when he took control, and when he lost control. If both happened at the same time, it was heaven. 

You could barely last on your knees as his dick slammed up into you repeatedly. The hand around your airway was tight but only just, his praises in your ear being the real culprit of your stolen breath. Your pussy clenched harshly around his length, and you knew from the tight coil in your body that you were seconds from euphoria. 

Seokjin felt it instantly. “Come, baby.” And as soon as he relinquished your throat did you give in, waves of pleasure coursing through you and a white burn shimmering in your lungs. It seemed endless. Ripple after ripple thrummed through your body, your joints slowly unlocking from their initial freeze. Behind you, Seokjin groaned and sang sweet nothings in your ear, his arms wrapping around your chest in a scorching embrace. 

The high ebbed, but did not completely recede. You knew Jin still needed release, so you kissed his wrist next to your shoulder and whispered, “I want to see you now.”

“Whatever you need.” Seokjin slowly unsheathed himself, and you felt a slight pain. You watched as he positioned his back on the headboard. He knew what you wanted to do. 

You made your way over to him and hovered over his length. Locking your hazy eyes with his dark set, you kissed him lazily as you languidly sank back onto him. Seokjin groaned when you didn’t use your hand as a guide beforehand. And frankly, that turned you on, too.

“You’re so tight still,” he grunted, his hands coming up and grabbing your ass before settling on your hips. 

You rolled your hips before finding a rhythm. “You’re just big,” you mock complained, earning a deep chuckle. 

“Aww. You sound. So. Sad,” he teased, thrusting up into you to punctuate each word. Your mewls were welcome now since he was done with his role. Now he could just sit back and enjoy your show for him. And occasionally torture you. 

You found your rhythm again, rougher with him now with your hands in his dark, sweaty locks. One of your hands dropped onto his chest and raked down his breast, eliciting a higher moan than normal. 

The sound caused heat to pool between your legs again, and you upped the pace. Your thighs burned from the exertion, but you kept yourself distracted by diving into Jin’s neck and nipping in multiple places. His arms left your hips to wrap around your back, and your breath faltered as he took over again. 

Seokjin was close. He was always close when his limbs locked hard into place. His upward thrusts were fast and hard, and you could only moan in his ear and take him in. The coil that released once tonight was tightening again, and you murmured in his ear that you were close. 

Seokjin only needed to kiss you like his life depended on it for you to unravel again. The wave was weaker than last time, but it could still cover mountains. Your head felt light, dancing above the clouds with no intention of coming down. You pushed yourself from his lips, allowing him to see your flushed chest and reddened cheeks. The second orgasm faded and loosened your limbs, but your heart felt completely connected to his, your soul nestled into the comfort of his tender embrace. “I love you,” you sighed, and you immediately felt a huge twitch between your folds.

“Lie down, baby. I’m close.” 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cradling his cheek. “Come inside me, Jinnie. I wanna feel you.” 

“Shit,” he grunted. His thrusts descended into madness. Your heart rattled at the sight of his dusted red cheeks, sweaty neck, heaving chest. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and the one you would overturn stars to find should you ever lose him again. 

When he gazed down at your joined sex, you took in the wet strands of hair on his forehead. When he kicked his head back against the headboard to look at you with lidded eyes, you bit your swollen lips. This wonderful man was your lover, your ex, your friend, and now your lover again. Only this time, you truly loved him back. And you wanted to think back to this moment forever. 

Tears sprung into your eyes as he pulled you in for a searing kiss, and his orgasm released into you in spurts. The thrusts he made then were slow and powerful, and your body bobbed with the swells. You kissed him harder than necessary, almost willing to bruise your own lips on his. The longer you held his lips captive, the longer he couldn’t see your sorrow. 

But Seokjin already felt the drops ping his chest. He just let you cry because that’s what you needed. Even when he broke from the kiss, he never said a word. He trailed kisses along your wet cheeks, your sweaty nose, and your glistening forehead. His poignant visage held nothing but stars, and it reminded you of the night you fell in love, crushing your spirit ever more. 

Touch after touch after touch only coaxed more tears from your eyes. It felt never ending as you sat spent in his lap, still on his softening length. Sheer willpower was what caused you to finally speak, your voice hoarse, “We should clean up. You still need to pack and sleep.”

“We should, and I do,” he whispered. He patted your bum. “Can you get up by yourself?” 

You nodded before extracting yourself from his firm thighs, lamenting the fact that human bodies had limits. As you waddled to the bathroom, you stumbled along the way, Seokjin softly chuckled while following you and steadying you when needed. Even when you shot empty glares at him, the smile in his eyes never left. 

The rest of your time spent in his room consisted of silence and kisses. Ever the gentleman, he let you lie down on his bed while he used the other half for the bags to pack. It didn’t take him too long since he was organized from the jump, so when he was done he cleared the bed and joined you under the covers. When you felt a weight on your stomach, you looked down to see your camera dumped on the comforter. 

Seokjin wrapped a strong arm behind your neck. “What do you call naked pictures taken with a Polaroid?” 

“Oh, no.” You turned your head to face him. “What?” 

“Just pictures. But that’s old nudes.” 

You punished him by attacking his sides instantly, yanking a batch of honky laughs from him. Knowing your own weaknesses still, he unleashed his own parry, and it took a minute for the both of you to settle in a draw. 

“Don’t tell me the only reason you brought this into the bed was to tell that horrid joke,” you chuckled, your head back to resting in your pillow. 

“Nope. I wanna take one of us.” 

After getting past all seven of your objections and excuses, Seokjin whittled your walls down and got you to agree. The end product existed on the last film in your Polaroid: a crooked snapshot of him kissing your cheek as you smiled with creased eyes, sheets held against your chest. And he conceded in letting you keep it after watching you clutch it lovingly in your fingers. 

You immediately sought comfort in his embrace after setting the photo next to your phone on the nightstand, and he stole multiple kisses from you way after your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. 

“Get some sleep, my love,” Seokjin whispered. 

And despite your sound of protest, you were pulled into the abyss of sleep right as you felt pillowy lips caress your forehead.

Rin-Rin [6:40am]: You’re lucky I love you. I packed your stuff and left out an outfit for you when you come down. Just don’t be late or I’ll drag you back down myself :)))

Jiminie [6:45am]: RISE N SHINE LOVEBIRDS

Rin-Rin [6:46am]: Oh, yeah, I may or may not have texted Jimin. 

Jiminie [6:46am]: ABOUT TIME

Jiminie [6:46am]: !!!

Tae [6:47am]: jimins scream woke me up. i can only assume that means ill get to be an uncle soon. dont let me down i want this(: 

Joonie [6:48am]: Aaaaaaaaaa !!!

Jiminie [6:48am]: And I know you want to yell at me for yesterday so I am ready for that whenever you are

Kook [6:50am]: <3 

You smiled at your texts before locking your phone. Seokjin was already up and about, making sure everything was packed and accounted for. When he saw you stirring, he came over and surprised you with a kiss so deep that it revitalized your sagging emotional state. “Morning,” you chuckled, swinging your sore legs out of the sheets and wincing at the cold. “I need to head back down.”

“Yeah, Rin already sent the first round of threats. I’ll see you at the car, okay?” 

You pecked him on the cheek after you slipped on your boots and grabbed your Polaroid.  Stepping into the hallway, you kept reminding yourself to not completely lose it yet. There was still a whole car ride you got to have with him, and you were determined to slow down time however you could. 

Your phone buzzed again, and you assumed Yoongi and Hoseok were just now waking up and getting the gossip. Checking your notifications only validated your guess.

Hobi [6:52am]: AHHHHH HAPPY FOR U~!!!

Hobi [6:52am]: ASLSKDJSKDHSKDJ

Yoongi [6:53am]: I’ll make sure to drag him back sometimes. It’s ludicrous to say that we’d never see him again. Drama queen. Anyways, happy for you. If you need anything, let me know. 

Hobi [6:53am]: we’ll see seokjinnie again love. and if u miss him a lot then we can make sure you see him. im sure he’ll be missing u too

How you were able to win the friend lottery and meet these people, you had no clue. But you weren’t going to ever question the fact. All you would do was embrace your blessings and love them. 

The car ride to the airport was long, but still much too short for your liking. Between the loving gazes you directed at Seokjin as he sang along to Taehyung’s music, the looks full of mirth Jimin gave the both of you from the backseat, and the laughter of both Rin and Taehyung, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

Throughout the ride, you got the feeling that you were going to be okay. Seokjin was starting an insane adventure, but you were also going to be there every step of the way. Not just on the polaroid he decided to stash in his bag, but in his heart and on his mind like Namjoon said around the fire. 

There were still plenty of ways to see each other and communicate. And since he technically didn’t start until next summer, that gave you plenty of time to see him before then. The many possibilities made you question your hesitation in the first place. 

But none of that diminished how much of a struggle it was still going to be. 

When the car rolled to a stop in the airport parking lot, your chest constricted. When everyone got their bags out of the cars and started the trek to the shuttles, your hands shook on your straps. As soon as everyone started saying their byes and separating to check into their airlines, you found it hard to breathe. 

But a tender hand brushed through your hair, and plush lips connected with your forehead. In an instant, you felt okay again. 

Seokjin’s calm voice slipped over your features. “Your flight leaves in two hours, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Okay. Come shop with me before I have to go to my gate!” 

You tried your best to keep a positive attitude while you watched Jin peruse different airport stores. When he would hold stuff up for you to approve, you would smile or dramatically turn things down. Even the cute neck pillow he really wanted got the dreaded rejection. 

But that was only so you could pay for it when he wasn’t looking and surprise him. The huge laugh and grin you got in return was worth the trouble. 

When it was time for Seokjin to head to his gate, you brought him in for a crushing hug. “Let me know when you land,” you demanded. 

“Of course, honey,” he said through a smile. 

“‘Honey,’ now?” You regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You have so many nicknames for me. I can’t keep up. Do you have a favorite you could stick with?” 

Seokjin rested his chin on your head. “Ah, I have a favorite. But it’s not true yet, so I shouldn’t use it.” 

A fire ignited in your heart, the flames warming you from the inside. “And which one is that?” 

“Would you look at the time!” Jin’s body heat left you in a rush as he stepped away, and your instinctual pout made him laugh outright. He cupped your chin for a kiss that rocked your whole being before pulling away. His eyes held galaxies in them when he stared into yours. “Guess you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.” 

“You’re a jerk, Jinnie,” you huffed, but you kissed him again. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“I really am. And I love you,” he responded. His hand came down to squeeze yours before he had to part. “I’ll let you know when I make it. Call me when you get home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you replied, and you watched his long strides with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind. 

As you told yourself again and again, you were going to be okay. It was going to be tough, it was going to be absolutely painful. But as long as you decided to keep loving each other, everything would work out. 

You knew better than anyone that love was a choice. And for Seokjin, you would choose it a thousand times over. 

And besides, the current state of technology was on your side. The possibilities of communication were too endless for you to dwell on the distance. Were there going to be days in which you only received one text? Most likely. Were there going to be weeks where you weren’t going to hear much from Seokjin at all? Definitely. But this time, unlike last time, you welcomed every bit of it. Your heart built a bridge to his that defied any sense of physical distance. On opposite sides, both of you were achieving success in your own ways. In the end, you would always come back to each other to celebrate together. Even though this was the last November trip you had with Seokjin, it was the beginning of many, many wonderful years to come.

It was later, while you were waiting for your own flight to finish boarding, that a message was sent to your phone. 

Jinnie [12:04pm]: Attachment: 1 Image

You couldn’t help but grin. As you gazed lovingly at the picture of Seokjin smiling next to your polaroid, another one came in before you could respond.

Jinnie [12:05pm]: Until you’re really next to me, this will have to do. Don’t get too jealous! 

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes while setting the image as your wallpaper. Locking your phone, you tapped the glass to see your screen light up, observing the picture again.

On a plane heading to another city entirely, Seokjin was doing the exact same thing. Except in his case, he was smiling down at a girl caught in mid-laughter, body aglow from the bright yellow lights of a spinning carousel behind her. 

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a/n: whewww so if you made it to the end, hi! i seriously enjoyed writing this and i learned so much. it’s my first fic and first huge one-shot, so if you have any comments/concerns/constructive feedback, please let me know! my ask box is always open, too. lastly, here is my m.list if you want to browse! 🌨🌨🌨 ++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 

[hereisleo]

from/ ‘All Hallows’ Eve’

w/ k.hj & reader

g/ inspired by “persona 3”: angst, friendship, supernatural

w.c/ 1k

a.n/ hello~ it’s me~ it’s been a while since i stepped foot in tumblr! sorry for disappearing without notice but i’ve not been in the writing mood for some time, life too has been busy. in honour of spoop month, here’s another piece to the series. i don’t know how many of you are still around but enjoy! happy halloween!

t.w/ ghost, blood, death

[First Quarter]

“Don’t.”

You stop in your tracks. Why? He warns you out of good nature but never is able to explain more. He doesn’t know either, he tells you it’s a bad time to go and you might see something you wish to forget. There’s no turning back when it happens. Unfortunately, the inevitable already happened. You’ve seen him, an anomaly in your usually normal life. Kim Hongjoong. A dead man. A ghost in your apartment.

“Have you gone out there? In the hidden hour?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. He doesn’t remember anything related to his death. As a ghost, he feels everything that living humans doesn’t feel. The danger, the restlessness, the wailing, the torment. He calls it the hidden hour, a secret hour where those without potentials turn into coffins and those with are preys. The hidden hour is where the dead become the living. Yet Hongjoong is still a ghost and you, a human, apparently with potential, are now sitting on your bed. The dark blue sky is tinted green with the half golden moon, so big and close to Earth almost as if the distance is reduced by half.

The coffins, water turning into blood, the gigantic moon are nothing compared to the lofty skyscraper of a tower appearing out of nowhere. A pseudo gothic edifice formed with the surrounding buildings pierce through the moon. It’s horrifyingly beautiful and Hongjoong agrees with your musing.

“I don’t know. Maybe I have. I can never seem to remember anything after a certain time. I can feel it nearing again, crawling under my skin.”

You look over at him, Hongjoong appears with his black and white striped polo shirt. Your first wild guess was a dead runaway prisoner but he miffly shut down the idea. No prisoner is as fashionable as he is. His hair matches his polo, black and white, cleanly split in half. Your second guess was Cruella cosplay which he took more graciously. A trailblazer of their own.

“You should sleep. There’s not much we can do at this time. If they sense you, you might as well be food for the dead.”

You tuck yourself in and Hongjoong too because he keeps you company while he contemplates life. The blanket goes through him but it's the thought that counts.

“Goodnight, Joong.”

[Waxing Gibbous]

“Joong? Hongjoong?”

Silence greets you in the hidden hour's eerie ambiance. You can hear the guttural noises the shadows are making down the street, louder than what you’re used to. Perhaps it's the moon phases, slowly but surely getting fuller each day, and each day, Hongjoong seems to disappear longer or have trouble appearing. Are ghosts affected by the phases? Why are you the only one who can see him? You’ve asked the apartment staff and none seem to know the existence of Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m here…”

Hongjoong looks a bit worse for wear. Did he lose weight? There are telltale of dark shadows under his eyes and his cheeks look slightly sunken in. The hidden hour. Where the dead becomes the living.

“Are the shadows giving you trouble?”

He slightly winced at your comment, it seems to hit the mark. He shut your window when the groaning of the shadows grew louder, clutching his forehead as if he had a very painful headache. You urge him to sit down, the blanket goes through him again but he never goes through your bed, what an interesting ghostly concept. He sinks further into your pillow, burying half of his face into it.

“That and my head feels like they’re splitting in half. I have dreams that don't feel like dreams. It’s always the same, it gets clearer each time.”

You reach forward to brush his fringes in comfort and your fingers painfully buzz with sharp static electricity. Well, that never happened before, your fingers usually pass through him with goosebumps trailing up your arms. He gives you an apologetic frown, too spent for another word.

“It’s alright, Joong, though I do wish I could see your dream so you don’t have to shoulder it yourself.”

His brows furrowed and he shakes his head. You should have been careful with what you wished for. It wouldn’t be long until you wished that his dream didn’t come true because that will be the last time you see your friendly ghost roommate.

[Full Moon]

Dreams do come true. The ear splitting roar you hear in your shared dream with Hongjoong becomes a reality. The bridge shakes and your footing is unstable. He can’t hear you, he’s too far. No, you couldn’t get close. There are instances where you are scared but this… This is fear.

Hongjoong is solid, he has pushed you away from him, his hands warm and strong against your shoulders. He drops to his knees, clawing at his head and letting out a heart wrenching scream. You feel suffocated within his presence.

“Make it stop! I just want to be free! I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

You jump, ignoring the handing in your ribcage, the twisting in your stomach and the cold sweat dripping down. Hongjoong, your ghost roommate, is alive. Your arms wrap around him, coughing when his elbow struck your chest but you held him. He burns inhumanly hot.

“It’s okay, Joongie. I’m right here. Be free.”

You didn’t know the implication of your statement, you didn’t know until Hongjoong looked at you with desperation, pain and guilt. But in that moment, he’s relieved and so are you. In an instant you feel bone chilling coldness seeping into you, so cold it burns. You hear shadows roaring and closing all around you, blood thick and pungent soaking your trousers, and coffins towering over you. Hongjoong starts to disappear, lighter and more translucent with each passing second.

“You must survive.”

Hongjoong’s parting word brings a specific memory. Those with potential are food for the living dead. The frantic rushing and jumping of shadows to feast, they were close enough for you to feel their teeth before you heard something shatter. The bell from the tower in the middle of the chime with intensity that rattles your teeth and eardrums.

Just like that the hidden hour ends. The twisted skyscraper disappears in a blink. The coffins towering over you turn into pedestrians, yelling and screaming at your state. You probably look similar to a notorious serial killer caught in the bloody act. In your arms is the cold body of Kim Hongjoong.

I must survive.

[waithyuck]

TRICKY

pairing: elf! na jaemin x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: {OKAY IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR VERY MILD *DUB-CON* BC TECHNICALLY THE READER IS TRICKED , BUT IN THE END OBVIOUSLY CONSENTS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}, sexual content (fingering, dry humping), explicit language, use of several pet names, possessive behavior and vocabulary, reader just wants to find her damn cat but gets a whole lot more than that, bad attempts at explaining folklore, I’m sorry for any inaccuracies 😬 **ALSO UNEDITED**

a/n: **repost bc tumblr sucks** this is definitely more of my own spin on what I think an elf would be like, so sorry to those of you who are into the lore and stuff 🥺

< previous | next >

~10/14/2020~

~~~~

your grandmother was always a very smart woman, and you knew that very well. so when she told you not to do something, you made sure to NEVER do it.

you lived with her on the very outskirts of your town; your own backyard made up of a very dense forest with enough trees in it to block out almost all sunlight. your bedroom window faced the forest, and every night you were forced to stare at it as you sat at your desk, contemplating what went on in there.

your grandmother repeatedly told you to never go in there, no matter what, ever since you were a child. she would talk about all kinds of crazy things, like witches and faeries, and even elves.

the first time she told you about the dark forest, you were only six years old.

“you can’t go in there, y/n.” she said seriously, crouching before you as you stood in the kitchen with her. “no matter how much it may call you, you can never enter it.”

you didn’t understand, so of course, in typical child fashion, you questioned her.

“well why not?” you shot back, crossing your arms and pouting. she stood back up after looking at you for a second, going back to mixing brownie batter in a large bowl.

“the fae are dangerous creatures. the forest is littered with them, my dear.” she stopped for a moment, gazing out the kitchen window and into the thick gathering of trees and plant life. “the elves will claim you once you enter, and you may never be able to escape again.”

after that, she didn’t say much else to you about it.

at first, you thought she was just trying to scare you into not wandering off, but after a while you began to believe her.

there would be strange noises in the night; like whispers calling out to you from the direction of your window. it creeped you out but you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

your life continued on like that for years, and eventually it didn’t phase you at all. you were used to the nightly whispers now, and even your cat didn’t seem to mind them, if she could hear them at all.

you never told your grandmother about them, however. she was getting old and you didn’t want to be the reason she had a heart attack, as awful as that sounded.

for being as old as she was, she still got around pretty good, and there were days when she left you along for a good few hours to go out on walks with her other old lady friends.

it was really cute.

today was just like any other day like that; your grandmother left around eleven in the morning to go out, leaving you some breakfast on the counter for when you inevitably stumbled out of your room at one o’clock in the afternoon.

everything seemed normal. you ate in silence and scrolled through your phone at the kitchen table, but then noticed something was right.

looking around you, you noticed your cat was nowhere in sight. she would usually be up on the table sitting and staring at you or rubbing against your leg for no reason, but currently she was nowhere to be found.

at first you just assumed she was sleeping somewhere else, but after eating you searched the house and couldn’t find her anywhere. walking back into the kitchen you happened to glance outside and your heart jumped in your chest.

then you started to panic.

looking out into the backyard you saw her stark white fur disappear into the thick brush of the forest, and you almost screamed out loud at the sight.

“fuck,” you exclaimed, your heart racing and your mind thinking of all the ways to try to get her back. you were always advised to not go into the forest...but you couldn’t let your poor cat who you loved very dearly to get mauled out there by some bigger animal.

you had to go after her.

you mustered you all the courage you had inside you, not bothering to change out of your ratty shorts and t-shirt before shoving your feet in your sneakers. you let out a shaky breath as you walked into your backyard, staring down the darkness of the forest with determination.

as you apprehensively made your way to the very entrance of the brush, you spotted a large crooked stick, and didn’t hesitate to grab it to use as a weapon if necessary.

you didn’t want to be completely defenseless against any supernatural creatures you came across. you had a gut feeling that running into one would be inevitable, and the fear rang like a siren in the back of your mind like a sonata.

the ‘do not enter’ and ‘keep out: danger’ signs did nothing to ease your pounding heart and screaming nerves, but you pressed on regardless. you had to do this, for your stupid cat.

with one large step, you passed the boundary of the trees, the wind picking up as soon as you did. a chill ran down your spine but you kept your legs moving, careful not to break your ankles on any protruding roots. it was incredibly dark, even though the sun was high in the sky, but the leaves of the towering trees cut out almost all light.

you stumbled around aimlessly for what felt like hours, but in reality it had only probably been about 45 minutes before you stopped and took a breather. checking your phone for the time, you felt a pang in your chest when you realized that it was off, and wouldn’t turn back on no matter how hard you tried.

“fuck,” you muttered, fear creeping up on your soul once again. you really didn’t want to be in this forest longer than necessary, and you really seriously contemplated just leaving your cat behind, as horrible as that was.

your eyes gazed around, taking in the trees surrounding you. nothing seemed too out of the ordinary...all though you really though you saw a few small dashes of light fly around you through your periphery. you prayed that they weren’t pixies or fairies of whatever else your grandmother told you about.

you didn’t trust anything, no matter how beautiful or non-threatening they seemed to be on the outside.

“hello there.” a voice spoke out suddenly, causing you to jump and spin around, dropping your makeshift weapon in the process.

your eyes met the sight of a young man who looked to be around your age, with a slightly unsettling smile upon his face. he was almost too handsome; the beauty that emanated from him in waves was incredibly addicting, and you felt the pull of him immediately. it was hard to tear your eyes away, and that scared you.

you had no idea where he had come from, nor did you know how he managed to so quietly sneak up behind you like he did. you definitely would have heard him coming, considering the amount of twigs and leaves littering the ground at your feet.

your heart raced at the possibility of who, or what, he was, your mind trying to go through everything your sweet old grandmother ever told you. some inner part of you already knew what you were dealing with.

“don’t hurt yourself, darling,” the man spoke again, referencing to your mind working in overtime. he took a step forward toward you, and in turn you took a large stumbling step back. he watched you move, chuckling. “I’m jaemin, care to tell me your name?”

“n-no,” you managed to say, your hands clutched at your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart. you swore you saw his eyes flicker a bright aquamarine for a moment before returning back to brown as his smile faltered slightly. It came back a split second later.

“you’re a smart girl,” he purred, most likely realizing that you knew he wasn’t human, inching closer once more. you felt frozen, unable to step back like you truly wanted to, and you willed yourself not to panic. “you know what I am, I presume?”

your lips shook as you opened your mouth to speak, your tongue running over your chapped lips and he watched every single movement, causing your body to shiver.

“I have a-an idea,” you softly whispered, not breaking eye contact as he stopped in front of you. he didn’t say a word, only smiling at you as you stayed frozen in your spot. one word screamed in your mind: elf. you didn’t even have to look at his pointed ears to deduct that. the vibe he gave off was abundantly clear, even if you had never encountered another being of his kind before.

it didn’t feel like he was compelling you; it was more or less your reaction to the immense shock and fear you felt, coming in contact with a creature your grandmother always warned you about.

and it’s all because of your dumb cat.

“l-look dude, I’m just trying to find my cat.” you stated strongly now, holding your ground as best you could as he looked at you intensely, that slightly unsettling smile never leaving his face.

“once it entered the forest it became mine.” he simply retorted, leaning against the tree trunk beside him. “anything that passes the trees here belongs to me…” he paused for a moment, his eyes now glowing a full bright aquamarine, startling you as he seared his gaze through your very soul. “so I guess that means you’re mine as well. how lucky.”

the elf spoke softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made you shiver, paired with his choice of words.

“I-I’m not..” you stuttered, your fists clenched by your sides. was he the ruler of the forest? some sort of elf king?

“you’re not?” he asked, chuckling to himself as he pushed his body from the tree, slowly slithering toward you on his bare feet. “did you not hear what I said? everything in this forest is mine. that includes living creatures,” you had no willpower to move away as he crowded your space, his glowing eyes paralyzing you as his body drew closer and closer. “I wonder what I should do with my new possession.” he smirked to himself, reaching a pale hand out to gently cup your chin, laughing lowly as you instinctively flinched. “you are without a doubt the prettiest thing I’ve seen enter my domain in years, princess. I’ve been waiting for you.”

his last sentence threw you off, but for a moment your brain couldn’t remember the whispers you heard all those years, and it didn’t click. you couldn’t deny that this elf man was attractive; and you couldn’t deny the fact that his voice had your legs weakening with every word he spoke. you cursed yourself mentally for being affected by him, because deep down you were aware of the danger of encountering elves.

thinking back to your cat, you wondered why she would have left the house in the first place. she was lazy and never wanted to really move...unless something was calling her…

your heart seemed to stop beating and your blood ran cold.

“you tr-tricked me…” you said in realization, your eyes widening. “you tricked me into coming in here, using m-my cat!” your voice was panicked and you found it hard to breathe. then, your brain finally figured it out. “you’re the one that’s been whispering to me all these years, aren’t y-you?”

he smiled at you with dark aquamarine eyes, and now you weren’t sure how you were going to get yourself out of this mess.

you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to get out of this mess.

wait, what?, your eyes widened at your own thoughts, where did that come from??

suddenly and without warning, your entire body was grasped in his hold. his hands dominantly gripped your waist and flipped you around so that your front was smacked up against a tree, the sharp bark scratching your cheek as your face was scraped against it.

“you’re my kitty now.” his voice whispered directly into your ear, his breath causing your body to visibly shiver in his hold.

you didn’t mean to whine, you really didn’t, but when he his teeth found your ear and nibbled gently on the skin, you couldn’t hold it in. your legs trembled beneath you as your knees weakened, the feeling of his warm body pressed tightly against your back leaving you wanting more and more.

he pressed deceivingly sweet kisses along your neck, your hands clutching the bark of the tree in response, your nails scratching along the surface. you jolted when you felt his right hand move down your front and nestle between your legs, putting pressure right against your covered center.

“hmm, you want it, don’t you?” he mumbled quietly, his chest rumbling against your back. “your thoughts are so loud, I know you can’t resist me.”

your thighs clenched in anticipation as he ran his long fingers delicately along your core through your shorts, and you let out a breathy whimper in response.

he tsk’d at you, giving your pussy a light slap through the thin fabric before completely drawing it away. “I wanna hear you say yes, kitty.”

his voice was demanding as he spoke, and you couldn’t disobey.

with your eyes glazing over, you gripped the tree trunk tightly and mewled out, “yes!”

you could practically hear him smirk, his chuckling causing you to grow even more wet as he finally slipped his hand down your front and into your shorts. when his long finger reached your bare and sensitive nub, you could help but arch your back, causing your ass to press tightly against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned right in your ear, his hips bucking and grinding against your behind in time with his strokes against your clit.

“you’re already so wet, darling,” he moaned out, dipping his finger down to circle your entrance. “I could just...slide right in.” with those words, he slipped his index finger into you in one clean movement, his long finger reaching deep inside your pussy.

you cried out when the tip of his finger brushed a sweet spot inside you, and you heard him groan in response, a deep chuckle following.

“good girl,” he muttered, casually slipping his middle finger inside you beside his pointer. the stretch had you throwing you head back, giving him access to your pretty neck. “be as loud as you want, baby. it’s just me, you, and the forest now.”

his hips grinding against your from behind never ceased, and he thrusted his fingers to the same rhythm as his hips. he was literally fingerfucking you; before you knew it he was adding a third finger.

to help with the burn of the stretch, he reached his free hand down and used two fingers to pinch and roll your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth at the sudden immense pleasure you were feeling.

it was embarrassing, but you were already so close to reaching your high. you really wanted this feeling to last forever, so you tried to hold it as long as you could.

the noises escaping from you only grew louder the harder he went; the powerful strokes from his hips driving you into the bark of the tree and his fingers plowing deep inside you had you practically screaming.

his lips found your neck and he left wet kisses there, his grains and growls only enhancing your feelings of ecstasy. he sounded like sin, and even though he was an elven boy that you had just stumbled across, you knew you didn’t want him to leave your life. you never wanted to live in a world where you couldn’t hear his moans, and that thought almost terrified you. the effect he was having on you was extremely intense, and you weren’t sure if it was normal, but at this point you were far too gone to care.

“are you gonna cum, kitty?” he strained out, breaking you out of your thought as his hips stuttered against your ass, his fingers still powerfully fucking into you. you could only nod desperately, your throat sore from the guttural sounds you were releasing.

he let out a breathy laugh, causing your walls to flutter around his digits. “then cum. I wanna feel you fucking drench my fingers.”

his words were all it took for you to let go. you screamed as you came, your nails scratching against the tree as your cheek scraped sharply on the bark, most likely drawing blood. your pussy clamped so hard around his fingers that he could barely move them in and out of you, so he drew circles over your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

his hips pressed tightly against you, and you could feel through your own pants the wet spot on the front of his, indicating that he had cum as well.

after a powerful minute of cumming, you felt your eyes droop in exhaustion almost immediately. jaemin withdrew his fingers from you, wiping your essence on his pants before grouping your waist to keep you from collapsing. you definitely would have fallen if it weren’t for his hold on you.

he gently lowered you to the ground, turning your body so your back was able to rest against the trunk. he wiped at the scratches on your cheek with his thumb, but even though it stung you didn’t have the energy to flinch.

“go to sleep, precious.” he said softly, still stroking your face lovingly. his gentle nature should have set off all of the alarms in your mind and body, but you didn’t have enough energy to care.

in the back of your mind you realized that you probably would never see your cat or your grandmother again, and that you would most likely be trapped in this forest with jaemin for the rest of your days on earth. you didn't want to think about it now, so you took his advice and allowed your eyes to close, dreaming of jaemin and nothing else.

maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Killua Zoldyck's Character

Illumi Analysis| Hisoka Analysis| Chrollo Anaysis|

What’s up y’all?! I’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee this morning and I am ready to write my butt off! This post will be about Killua Zoldyck, my second favorite character and you will know why by the end. If you’d like me to write about your favorite character, Be sure to send me a message and I will get on it ASAP.

Here we go!

I saw Killua for the first time on Tumblr. Someone created various icons for several anime characters and edited them. They were all aesthetically pleasing but for some reason, his picture stood out. Now that I look harder, it is because he was holding a Pepsi can instead of the off-brand one they drew for him in the cartoon. I noticed everyone on TikTok and Twitter had the very same icon as their profile picture (usually those that like to troll and say racist things to others). Once I started watching Hunter x Hunter, I realized the character immediately. Thank you for your edits!

Killua Zoldyck is the youngest child in the family and is the only child that developed a mind for his own.

Instead of taking the pleasure of killing, he runs/avoids and achieves this by becoming friends with Gon. It’s interesting to think that no one in the Zoldyck family wants to kill for fun except for Illumi.

I remember Zeno telling Chrollo: “Do you think I enjoy killing?”.

This makes me think that the family’s job is to destroy enemies that are a threat to society. Are the Zoldyck’s taking on the role of cops or an extension of such? If that statement is true why does Illumi take pleasure in abusing his power when his own grandfather only does it when criminals are involved? Granted, Silva and Zeno’s reasoning for brutally fighting criminals isn’t legal, and (to me) are considered to be vigilantes, at least they don’t go around doing the horrible things like how Illumi and Hisoka do.

This very reason why Killua ran away from home. He decided to rebel against his mother and implied: “Fuck you. I’m going to do what I want.” Killua and his siblings are victims of child abuse and show that they deal with that abuse in different ways. Killua masks his abilities in public and tries to keep them under control, Kalluto seems to be very quiet and obedient, Milluki is just as abusive as Illumi, and we already know about Illumi. Milluki is physically abusive; this can be seen when he is whipping Killua for running away and threatens to destroy Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio while Illumi plays mind games on Killua and uses his Nen to do the trick.

Killua’s character is very special and in a way takes the lead as the main character instead of Gon. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Killua is a 12-year-old boy who leaves home to escape his abusive home and see the world for his own. During phase 1 of Hunter’s Exam, he instantly clicks with Gon; probably because he’s the only 12-year-old there. They constantly challenge each other to see who will win and who will buy dinner or some other reward. Because of his abusive home, Killua often masks his feelings. This is noticeable every time Gon talks about him being his best friend and he always reacts as if he’s embarrassed by it.

Gon is his shield from going bat-shit crazy like his family. They both have faced opponents (like Hisoka and others) where Killua could have unleashed his assassin abilities but didn’t. Yes, some of the opponents are stronger than him, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Killua is the best friend Gon could ever have. Since he knows about aura and any supernatural abilities, this is why he stops Gon and even insults him for pushing himself too far. Killua stopped Gon from using too much aura in the past especially once Kite’s arm was cut off by Pitou. Because Killua wasn’t there to stop him when fighting Pitou, this resulted in Gon’s downfall. Did Killua believe it was his fault that Gon almost died? He isn’t responsible for Gon’s actions but he focused so much on running away from his “demons” and masking his temper by maintaining his friendship that he wasn’t paying attention to Gon’s noticeable and developing temper.

Killua Zoldyck is a child that suffered from abuse and to escape that reality, he runs away, takes Hunter’s Exam only to match with his brother, chooses defeat, and then kills an opponent, not of his own free will.

But wait, there’s more.

After being rescued from his prison of a home, he goes to Heaven’s Arena, met Zushi and his teacher, develop Nen, follows the Phantom Troupe around and somehow managed to survive that, meet Bisky, join a game to get closer to Ging, witnesses Gon disappearing, trying to form a relationship with Alluka, and then tries to heal Gon with a quickness.

Whew, chile!

At the beginning of the show, it appeared as if Killua was taking on too much and only did so to keep his mind off what he escaped from.

One thing to point out is Killua’s motivation to heal Gon no matter what. It is implied that he doesn’t care what will happen to him or anyone else as long as Gon can live again.

Wait.

Isn’t that along the lines of what Gon said about getting revenge for Kite? He didn’t care about what happened to him? Hmmmm. I guess they’re very similar after all!

Killua and Gon are BFFs and will do anything for each other. Friendships in real life should be this way; let’s follow his fictional example.

Face

Killua’s face is the typical shape for someone his age. His eyes are wide, as blue as the morning sky, and honestly, I wish he’d smile more. Even though he is 12 years old, he still has a babyface.

Hair

Killua’s hair color is very similar to Princess Allura’s and Lotor’s. According to verywellmind.com, the color white represents innocence and purity. Ironically, Lotor and Killua are the opposite of that while Allura has maintained her innocence. Killua’s unique hair color and hairstyle are amazing! I love how it stays in shape while he is fighting or running.

Clothes

Regarding clothes, he is JUST like his brother. Again, Illumi irks me, but they both have a great taste in fashion. Through the show, Killua changes his clothes more than Gon, which is funny. I guess if Gon changed his clothes too much it would take away from his character. Killua’s default style contains a sleeveless white shirt with a purple one underneath, basketball shorts, and gym shoes. Just look at these outfit changes! This is why Killua is my 2nd favorite character in this show.

Behavior

As stated before, Killua cares more about others. This is ironic because the Zoldyck family only cares about themselves or their family while Killua feels the complete opposite. It’s almost as if he trusts strangers more than his own family. A common phrase: “She/He turned to the streets” that I’ve heard in my hometown can be applied here. Killua probably hates his family and turned to strangers to find love and comfort since they neglected that. He is also the only one that tries to develop a relationship with Alluka. At first, I thought “Wow he’s only developing a relationship with her to heal Gon” but then I realized it was bigger than that. Alluka has been separated from her family because of her dangerous abilities. She will demand something and if that person doesn’t fulfill her demands, they will suffer horribly. Killua learns that Alluka has a healing ability and while Illumi complains that Killua was hiding rules from him, he never took the chance to talk to him about it and continued to threaten Alluka. The family “banished” her to a confined room for who knows how long because, apparently, she had been possessed by a demon from the Dark Continent and they do not know when it happened. Despite knowing that Killua could parish with the rest, he still develops a relationship with her. He is the true example of excepting someone for who they are. As far as I’m concerned, running away was the best decision he made. It saved his life and in return, he’s going to save another. I do find it ironic that something considered to be so dark has the power to bring something back to life when usually it’s something bright like a light...interesting. You all know what I’m saying. Most television shows only portray angles to heal others while demons only seek to destroy. The Zoldyck family is wrong for pushing Alluka away. How could you do that to your own kid? Shit, you should be blaming yourself for not watching her and allowing the demon to posses her.

In conclusion, Killua is my second favorite character. He is bold, loves his friends, and isn’t afraid (anymore) to step up to people he may not win against. His character has blossomed from a young boy afraid to step up to his brother to a boy who isn’t afraid to do so. He has learned about Nen and has gone through many trials and tribulations just to say he is much stronger than before. What characters would you like to hear about next? Send me a DM!

Fin.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

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