#to me they’re so sun and moon coded-

[disney-mystical-au]

‘They say the moon shines the brightest when it’s with the sun. 🌙☀️’

[themuseofbaroque]

astro obvs. & notes #1 - general

author’s note - this is for entertainment purposes only, none of this is fact. these are simply my own opinions!

- neptune 1H 🤝 pisces rising, noticing their eyes first. the water influence to these placements adds something that draws you in like a current, no pun intended. i used to work with a pisces rising, and she literally looked like a pretty fish (lmfao) big, shiny eyes. either of these placements can find it incredibly easy to appear sensual or seductive.

- speaking of water placements! i’ve also noticed pisces placements tend to take a lot of pictures around water. beaches, hot tubs, rivers.

- this can also be said for air signs (esp. libra) but with things they enjoy! i’m always seeing personal interest posts from libras, aquarians and geminis. music, video games, political causes, shows they’re watching, food, celebrities, etc. anything they like, they post. anything.

- i’ve never laughed harder than when i’m with people who have heavy gemini, capricorn, sagittarius and leo placements

- in my personal opinion and experience, capricorn risings are what people think scorpio rising is. i’ve only met one scorpio rising irl (that i know of) and she did not fit martian/plutonian ruling at all. celebrity examples ⬇️

kim hongjoong of ateez. the intimidation factor, the style, sex appeal, the interest in piercings/tattoos. he’s a capricorn rising, with his chart ruler, saturn, in the sign of aries so we see a lot of red/martian influence from him as well.

megan fox. she’s been a little fuckin weird ever since she dated mgk (that man makes me physically ill to look at much less read about) but! she had her bad bitch moments! being known primarily for her sex appeal + starring in jennifer’s body (a gothic treasure btw) i feel is very scorpio coded however she herself is a capricorn rising, with a sagittarius saturn in the 11h, more fire influence from her as well just like with hongjoong.

joan jett. THEE female guitarist of the 80s. her whole career was surrounded by sex, scandals, drugs, all the darker themes of rock n roll in general. she’s another fire ruled capricorn rising and a sagittarius saturn in the 11h like megan. her style and even her personality has an edge to it, much more fitting for scorpio/plutonian stereotypes rather the capricorn ones. imo.

- actors who’ve done major/recognizable roles in horror usually have a capricorn neptune. neptune is imagination and capricorn is ruled by the devil card in tarot. combine the two and you have quite literally = dark imagination. celebrity examples ⬇️

mia goth staring in the X series as the main face of the trilogy

bill skarsgard being the main face of the IT remake as pennywise

evan peters as tate langdon in AHS, he also played jeffery dahmer recently for netflix.

- capricorn actually shows up quite a bit in the horror genre, esp. gore and paranormal. both actors and writers.

- sagittarius too, oddly enough. a lot of well known faces of horror have major sagittarius placements/stelliums/jupiter dominance.

- underdeveloped cancer placements are more manipulative and two faced than geminis. i see so much gem slander on here, and don’t get me wrong, i love both cancer and gemini placements! however i’ve met and befriended quite a few of both, and cancers by far have been the common denominator in issues around them more than once. stirring the pot then turning around and playing the victim when people are frustrated, lying, playing both sides to better their own situation, and even playing people against each other. i’ve never seen such hateful behaviors from the geminis i know irl.

- aries men are much shyer compared to the women

- taurus women i’ve met irl get pregnant very easily. venus? good coochie? idk

- grand trines are some of the most beautiful people i’ve ever seen (a grand trine is when someone’s big 3, so sun/moon/rising, are in the same element but in all 3 different signs. ex: virgo sun, taurus moon, capricorn rising)

- queer individuals with pisces placements can pass as straight pretty easily if they wanted to. most of them are chameleons

- aries risings i’m so sorry for the household you had growing up. i see martian childhoods usually being the ones who dealt with screaming matches, toxic parents, poverty and underlying issues with siblings that last into adulthood

- i’m not surprised at all when libra placements tell me they’re in college for a general studies degree because they can’t figure out what they wanna do yet

- a lot of fan favorite female characters in video games are canonically cancers

- if you think your rising sign doesn’t suit you very well, try looking at whatever planet correlates with your gender identity. masculine: sun and mars, feminine: venus and moon. the houses and signs of these should help you out a little bit

- libra placements absolutely get favoritism at least once in their life, jobs/family dynamics especially

- sagittarius women usually have rough love lives, at least in the beginning. a lot of them try to save and help partners who don’t deserve it and they get hurt badly in the process. same goes with pisces women

- virgo venus is not that bad of a placement as stereotypes make it out to be. clean freaks? yes. perfectionists? usually, yes. loyal? yes. remember the small things? yes. romantic? no. at least not in a cheesy way. sensual? yes.

- lilith aspects to any of the big 3 is a bad bitch placement. honorable mention is venus/lilith aspects as well

- air signs like spicy food just as much as fire signs

- a lot of rappers have heavy mercurial placements (virgo and gemini) (3h and 6h)

- mc aspecting venus in anyway is usually the person who fools around with coworkers/may even cheat on a partner with someone they work with. most people with this placement have definitely had a partner at one point or another worried about someone they work with. may be the type to have a “work wife”/“work husband”

- 6h chiron is the person who’s life has been majorly impacted by their own or someone else’s health. disabilities, chronic illnesses, stds, limb amputation, skin grafts, etc.

- aries moon and mercury combo = bad potty mouth, cursing is an almost unbreakable habit

- speaking of aries! aries and aquarius placements together in any of these ➡️ moon, venus, mars, lilith, pluto ➡️ usually have a tendency to jump around from partner to partner very quickly, including falling back into exes. their thoughts and opinions on people and things change SO quickly that they usually are the kind of people who have rosters (unintentionally). they are upfront, they don’t lie or drag anyone along but they do seem to be restless when it comes to romance. even if they don’t physically date a lot, they may often THINK of it, their minds going a million miles a minute

- geminis do not get the rep they deserve for being freaks. not only does the sign traditionally rule the throat/lungs/hands/nervous system, (choking, breath play, hickies, hand fetish/fingering, blindfolding and sub/dom dynamics) but it’s also ruled by the lovers card in tarot 👁️👁️

- fixed signs 🤝 tattoos

- sagittarius/capricorn/pisces/libra placements usually have issues with religion/spirituality growing up. either they were forced into one as kids and they have an unhealthy relationship with their god now as an adult or they simply struggle to find something that feels true to them. this is just my experience but every single friend i’ve had who’s left the christian church, had an interest in paganism/buddhism, joined the satanic temple, grew up as strict catholics, etc, have had these placements. religion is a revolving door for them and it’s a common subject of struggle in their life

- women with pisces placements tend fall into unhealthy relationships very easily, especially if they’re heterosexual and dating men. they fall in love with the idea of love before the actual person presenting it. they are bossed around very easy and usually don’t like confrontation. honorable mentions for this as well: pisces stellium, cancer stellium/mercury/saturn, 7h saturn

- cheesy hallmark movies make me think of taurus/libra venus placements, 7h venus as well

- 5h cancer/moon/venus, cancer rising/moon dom, 5h/8h synastry aspects please be wary of accidental pregnancies! wrap it before you tap it cause y’all extra fertile 💀

- most well known streamers/youtubers have 10h stelliums, including their venus. a lot of them will end up dating another social media presence/someone who shares a platform/job with them

yay first post! pardon any spelling errors i’m proof reading this half asleep ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[peachie-bumblebee]

FNAF SECURITY BREACH NSFW HEADCANONS

MAIN 4

MINORS DNI

getting back to my ROOTS with this one!! hope my community is still out there- the dlc has brought back my love for the game :) i haven’t posted SB content in a LONG time so a reminder- I ONLY WRITE FOR CHARACTERS WHO PASS THE JACK HARKNESS TEST. They are OF AGE OR ABOVE, have HUMAN OR ABOVE INTELLIGENCE, and can VERBALLY GIVE INFORMED CONSENT. The SB animatronics are canonically sentient. None of the past ones are. okay- back to the content :D

CW: ONE PREGNANCY MENTION, KINK RELATED T0YS, SEMI-PUBLIC MENTIONS, DACRIPHILIA

GLAMROCK FREDDY

lord have mercy…

he’s the most virgin coded out of all of them. i’m sorry.

but do I think he’s a TOTAL virgin? no.

there are FREAKS out there (me writing this and y’all reading this-) who would 1000% show up to the pizzaplex just tryna get a piece of the fazballs

SORRY

he’s the type to silently get off in his dressing room and then get all embarrassed about it like there’s someone there to judge him

he’s an actual sweetheart in the sheets. he’s so so nice about everything. as we go down the list this DECREASES.

don’t push him too fucking hard tho. if you’re one of the ones who read my old fic Competition, you remember.

his fingers vibrate.

and so does that dick.

he’d turn it on inside of you and listen to you gasp before putting a hand gently over your mouth and hushing you.

he seems a lot like a gasper. maybe the occasional curse word coming out, but mostly praises of how good it feels.

i know he is a messy cummer. i’m right and that’s final.

he’d be absolutely humiliated after the fact and go get a wet washcloth asap, but it’s a very shocking amount anyway.

pregnancy isn’t a concern, but he’s still wary about cumming inside for some reason. he’s the type to make sure it’s okay like 3 times before he does it.

okay i lowkey think he’d be into getting handcuffed. i don’t know what handcuffs could genuinely hold him, but if you brought them out he’d be (figuratively) SWEATING

i think his eyes roll back when he cums. and i’m correct. eat me.

he’s the lead member but he’s humble about it… except a few times in bed. then he lets it go to his head(s). just a bit. ;)

if he was in a relationship he’d have a thing about his partner dressed in his merch

switch! but the most vanilla out of everyone- but remember, not completely.

…he’d eat his cum out of you.

no he is NOT gonna call you superstar during sex leave me ALONEEE

GLAMROCK CHICA

my biggest hc for her will and will always be that she has a MASSIVE toy collection. she is a toy girl. do i know how she gets them? not exactly.

but I DO know that they’re all pink and white and sparkly!

that doesn’t mean it’s all vanilla toys though (respect to the vanilla community but it is not me :) )

she does own a hot pink flogger and she WILL happily use it on a groupie or her partner.

she’s such a tease. she’s such a fucking tease jsghskbnsjh

doesn’t matter if she’s domming or subbing (60/40 ratio)

she’s a TEASE

and she giggles during sex

her whole bubbly pink happy girl thing doesn’t stop

she’ll put you in a bubblegum pink sex swing and use a big ass vibrator on you while giggling and telling you how cute you look

i know she likes pulling on nipples I KNOW SHE DOES

for those who used to ask- no, she can’t give head with her beak. and she’s not taking it off. sun/moon can’t give sloppy either BUT THEY MAKE IT WORK!

AND SHE DOES TOO!

she can fuck up the guitar with her fingers, what else do you think they can do?

she’s the type to pull you into a side room, hush you, finger fuck you, then send you on your way with a hug

i know for a FACT SHE WEARS A STRAP!

yes it IS glitter. it is also 9 inches.

and if you want more, she has more ways to give you that.

she’s also the type to get you front row tickets and put a remote control vibe in you so she can watch you squirm right in front of her.

she’s also a praiser, but there’s a lot of false sympathy in there too.

food aftercare. she wants to eat 3 pizzas with you. food is her love language

ROXANNE WOLF

YOU BETTER BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT!

she’s a dom. she just is.

god I miss that fic I wrote.

she’s so fucking cocky in bed. it’d be insufferable if she wasn’t so hot and so good at sex.

if who she’s fucking is AFAB she’s EATING IT!!!! YOU CAN BET ON IT THAT SHE DOES MUNCH!

if they’re AMAB then you can expect her to lean them back on her chest and give them the most intense handjob of their life.

in general, the animatronics are stronger than people, so when they’re rough they’re still not going at their hardest. that would actually just kill you.

she’s a show-off. she’ll leave marks in very noticeable places on purpose so that everyone knows that you’re getting fucked by THE Roxanne Wolf

she’s a hair puller. I just know she likes to wrap her claws up in it and pull.

don’t fucking pull hers though, she doesn’t like that shit.

yeah her tail wags when you eat her out, what about it? don’t point that shit out, it’s embarrassing to her.

she curses so much during sex.

the strap is purple and THICK. if you want more then she’ll just hit up Chica for a new one. Chica is more than happy to help. and more than happy to watch.

she’s only the jealous type if its some rando loser. THEN she’ll fuck the living shit out of you while telling you how she’s the best and making you repeat it back to her.

if it’s Monty or Chica? If you’d be into it too, then yeah, she’ll share.

…Freddy is more of a hard sell, but it’s not a hard no.

it’s more of a “Yeah yeah yeah but why do you wanna fuck the dumbass bear? Why him? Monty’s got a bigger one, I’ll tell you that.”

yeah but roxy baby his doesn’t vibrate

she comes off a winning high after a particularly close race, she’s going to go feral on you

with those eyes of hers, she can find you wherever you go. so if she’s randomly in the mood and her partner is there, even halfway across the pizzaplex, she’s on her way to pull you into her room and take some “private time.”

MONTGOMERY GATOR

hhhhhhooOOOHHH BOY

y’all remember the start of SB where he’s fucking up his room?

prepare to be destroyed HSGDHJSGBDNH

degrades. degrades the fuck out of you. it’s a toss up between Roxy and Monty who’s the more cocky, but he’s certainly meaner.

LONG ASS DICK. IT’S HUGE WITH ALL SORTS OF BUMPS AND RIDGES AND SHIT.

head pusher IF you’re okay with it. consent is mandatory.

he’d grab all his partner’s hair if they had any to grab, even just an INCH and go ham.

his long ass dick matches his long fucking tongue.

loves giving lethal backshots LOOOOOOOORD HAAAAAAAAVVVEEEE MEEERCYYYYYY

he’s not only breaking the bed, it’s straight up sawdust. idk how his partners live but they certainly live happily after.

as cocky as he is, he’s not exactly a selfish lover by any means. yeah, he’ll edge you, but he also likes to get his partner real sloppy if you catch my drift.

he aims to make you cry from pleasure. it’s straight up his goal.

i just know he knows EXACTLY where all the right spots are. you don’t even gotta tell him, inside or outside, no matter personal preference, he can always pinpoint his partner’s sweet spots

and then he proceeds to abuse the fuck out of that knowledge

he gets so jealous over Freddy, it’s insane

he sees his partner in his merch, he’s ripping it to shreds.

Roxy is less of a threat. That can be more of a collaborative effort.

he honestly doesn’t know how much of a freak in the sheets Chica is. If he had a threesome with her and she whipped out her chest of fun he’d be like “DAMN BITCH WHERE’D YOU GET ALL THOSE” and she’d be like “^-^ wanna see my buttplug collection? :>” LMFAOOO

GROANER. he GROANS LIKE CRAZY

also a bit of a growl but NOT in the cringe tiktok way don’t worry

HOPE YALL ENJOYED!!! I really hope I can start to find my old community with this :)

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you. 

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers. 

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment. 

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow. 

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.” 

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it. 

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth. 

“Jihoon, wait-” 

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!” 

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd. 

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here. 

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?” 

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?” 

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket. 

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.” 

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh. 

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that? 

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit. 

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!” 

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.” 

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little. 

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!” 

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students. 

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit. 

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4 

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage. 

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!” 

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully:  “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…” 

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-” 

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss. 

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly. 

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?” 

“Yep.” 

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?”  _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.” 

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.” 

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board. 

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows. 

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await. 

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.” 

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?” 

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you. 

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.” 

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..” 

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.” 

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.” 

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her? 

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!” 

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips. 

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more. 

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-” 

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.” 

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.” 

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you. 

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.”  _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed. 

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?” 

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!” 

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.” 

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.” 

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you? 

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?” 

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed. 

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?” 

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.” 

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!” 

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.” 

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation. 

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” 

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.” 

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.” 

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you. 

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you. 

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims. 

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?” 

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.” 

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!” 

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!” 

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points. 

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!” 

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker. 

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…” 

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too. 

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?” 

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!” 

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.” 

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!” 

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!” 

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.” 

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.” 

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes. 

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!” 

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…” 

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!” 

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich. 

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!” 

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily. 

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?” 

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.” 

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.” 

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!” 

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.”  _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening. 

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on. 

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you? 

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..” 

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-” 

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this. 

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice- 

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!” 

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?” 

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-” 

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!” 

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”  

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?” 

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.” 

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?” 

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.” 

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?” 

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word. 

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet. 

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.” 

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.” 

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh. 

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!” 

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile. 

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?” 

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.” 

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?” 

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where- 

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have. 

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”  _____________________________

“Jihoon?” 

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers. 

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.” 

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.” 

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?” 

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street. 

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. 

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-” 

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-” 

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-” 

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him. 

There are flowers in his hands. 

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code. 

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.” 

He nods. 

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers. 

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?” 

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?” 

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?” 

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you.  He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest. 

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted,  cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love. 

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.” 

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.” 

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy. 

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you. 

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again. 

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy. 

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it. 

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy. 

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him. 

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?” 

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-” 

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts. 

“Sorry, it was just-” 

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.” 

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?” 

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers. 

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously. 

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit. 

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?” 

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth. 

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side. 

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.” 

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling. 

“Wan�� it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again. 

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.” 

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile. 

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.” 

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.” 

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.” 

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.” 

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan. 

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-” 

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?” 

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?” 

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.” 

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.” 

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you. 

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively. 

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious. 

“... Are you still hard?” 

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised. 

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” 

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing. 

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.” 

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..” 

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse. 

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior. 

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.” 

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins. 

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

[kolyubov]

Rises the moon.

✧ pairing. Doa3 x gn!reader

✧ word count. 2k.

✧ contents. fluff, ooc doa3, relationships are not specified (this is not necessarily romantic, take it as you please <3), mostly self-indulgent. if I missed anything, please tell me.

✧ author's note. it's been so long since i posted anything,,, i hope this is good enoughwaaaaeuxjwunxsk

It was past midnight and the apartment was enveloped in silence. You couldn't hear anyone talking in the living room, meaning everyone was asleep.

To be able to enjoy a quiet rest in this place was rare. Midnights are the most bustling hours, when everyone gathers to discuss “important” business until early in the morning, before leaving for whatever they have to do.

Considering this, you could have had a nice sleep for once… if it wasn’t for the rain storming outside.

A sudden thunder crash caused you to abruptly wake up in the middle of your dream— Your heart thumping quickly against your chest and your breath coming out in heavy gasps. You felt disoriented for a few seconds until you eventually calmed down.

Usually, storms don’t scare you, in fact, they’re quite enjoyable along with a lecture or a movie, but not now when you're alone in your room and in the middle of the night, surrounded by the darkness and with your vision barely helping you to perceive your surroundings.

Among the dark, shadows shape into tall monsters lurking from the corner of your room, seemingly waiting for the right moment to lay their ghostly hands on you before disappearing after each lightning. The brief second of luminance makes you realize that those shadows are just that, no one was going to actually hurt you.

Yet, going back into the land of dreams was difficult under these circumstances.

You tried by closing your eyes, ignoring the “monsters” and the loud rumbling of the thunderstorm, and taking deep breaths to calm your unsteady heart but you just couldn't fall asleep. The unsafe sensation wouldn't go away, perhaps until the sun rises again.

However, you had some kind of idea that could help you sleep.

You sat on your bed for a while, contemplating the storm through the window that doesn't seem to end anytime soon and trying to gain the courage to leave your room.

Maybe this idea wasn't the best one you could have, but it was the first thing that came to your sleepy brain, and it's not like you were in the mood to think of any consequences due to what you were going to do.

With a light groan, you leave the comfort of your bed and grab your fluffy pillow in between your arms. The wooden floor cracks under your feet as you make your way to the door of your room then carefully opening it, peeking through the small gap, making sure no dangers are around before stepping outside.

Luckily, the hallway was slightly illuminated with one lamp that hung from the ceiling— The old wooden floor cracks under your deliberated steps as you make your way to his room. Once you stand in front of it, and just as you place a hand on the knob, another sudden thunder makes you jerk in surprise.

Was that a sign from God to not do this?

Without properly rethinking —also too tired to think of any potential risks— you twist the knob, and immediately your eyes land on his sleeping peaceful form; almost completely wrapped with a blanket but letting you see his face. His lips barely parted and his eyelashes rested over his cheeks.

It's not every day when you see Fyodor sleeping on a comfy mattress…

Until now, you had always seen him working day and night underground, sitting in front of his bright purple monitor screen and typing away weird codes or messages that seemed impossible for you to deceive. And if he was not working underground, instead, he was taking a stroll through the city or drinking tea in some restaurant that picked his curiosity.

But sleeping didn't seem to be like a normal activity for him to do.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, hm?”

Fyodor's groggy voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. Now he’s looking at you with a gentle smile as you stand on his doorframe, gripping your pillow awkwardly as you wait for some type of permission— And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he motions for you to come closer with his hand.

The mattress sinks under your weight as you get into the bed and place your pillow just beside his. Wasting no time, Fyodor wraps his blanket around your frame. And it takes some time for you to realize that he's gladly sharing his personal space, which adds to another unusual thing he's doing tonight.

“I couldn't sleep.” You mutter, as he pulls you closer.

“Why's that, dearest?”

“The storm…”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, finding adorable the fact that you needed company just because of a mere storm. Though, he knew the answer even before you said it.

One of his hands —usually cold— is now warming up your cheek, cupping it and rubbing small circles with his thumb as if to soothe you, to tell that he’s there for you without any words needed, simply light touches and whispers shared in between the two.

And for a small second you return the gesture, gently tracing the dark circles underneath his eyes as you scan his features; his thin eyebrows, his purple eyes, and his nose before finally stopping at his lips— His lower lip a little bitten and red.

Unconsciously, your own lips twitch upwards as your mind clouds with the idea of kissing every inch of his pale skin, having him softly laughing underneath you.

To hide your smile, you rest your head against his chest, pressing your ear to where his heart is. The soft thud makes a gentle symphony, a calming sound, that allows any tension left in your body to slip away. Fyodor’s presence fills your senses, making you forget about the rain violently storming outside. Something pulls you closer as your arms wrap around him.

Fyodor doesn’t complain of the proximity, instead, his slender fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his digits or untying knots that were made while you were sleeping before the thunder strike woke you up.

It’s not a surprise that your eyelids eventually start feeling heavy, with all the sweet caresses and the warmth provided, your body is ready to resume your sleep, enveloped in the most comfortable shelter you could ever ask for—

“Oh…”

One of Fyodor's hands cups the back of your head tenderly, pulling you flush against him as if to avoid someone from snatching his most precious thing.

“…What’s wrong, Fedya?” You want to pull away, but a high-pitched giggle comes from behind you, accompanied by the sound of rustling the sheets.

Seems like we have company.

“What are you two doing sleeping without me? That's mean… Leaving a friend out is not nice, dovey.” Nikolai grumbles as he climbs to the bed, lying on his side and hugging you from behind, “Why not come to me when the storm startles your peaceful sleep, hm?

The jester seems not afraid in the slightest to have physical contact with Fyodor, or anyone really…

You can feel his hand removing Fyodor's from your head before he nuzzles against the crook of your neck; the tip of his nose brushes up and down your skin purposely to tickle you. Oh, how much Nikolai loved hearing your giggles as you squirmed around his bear hug, it made his heart almost beat out of his chest.

“I do not recall asking you to show up in my room, Nikolai.” By the tone of his voice, Fyodor doesn't seem pleased with the additional company taking space on his bed and ruining your peaceful encounter.

Nikolai’s hands trail up your ribs, and without any warning, he begins tickling you— not stopping even as you try to pry them away among laughs.

“Dove, you’re not gonna make me leave, are you?” He whispers against your ear, voice whiny and you are almost completely sure that he's pouting right now, hoping you at least feel pity for leaving him out, “Tell Dos that you want me to stay…”

But just by eyeing Fyodor, the answer is more than clear on his face. Refuting his words to let Nikolai sleep with the two of you is most likely ending with you and the jester being kicked out.

“C'mon, C'mon! You're scared of the storm, aren't you, birdie?” Nikolai pecks your cheek and pets your hair dramatically. “Poor baby! Shouldn't we help this frail dove together, Dos?”

“There's no need for that.” Fyodor's patience is going thin.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in annoyance, sitting up on the bed with his arms crossed like a child and glaring at Fyodor for a while, trying to convince him just by holding eye contact until he gives up, knowing there’s no room for negotiating.

“Fine, I'll leave… Gosh, you're such a killjoy.”

As he slips out the bed, muttering curses under his breath, Fyodor sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not the first —and definitely not the last— time he has to put up with Nikolai’s behavior.

God blessed him this time, it seems. He didn't need to make too much of a fuss to make Nikolai leave.

When the door opens and the jester intruder is ready to leave in order to resume the calming moment that Fyodor was truly appreciating, instead of leaving, Nikolai throws his arms up in the air excitedly.

“Dear Sigma! What a great surprise!”

The casino manager stands in the doorframe, rubbing one of his eyes. It appears like his sleep was interrupted as well.

“Uhm… Could you guys keep it down, please? I woke up because you're so noisy and I'm trying to—”

Sigma didn't have time to finish speaking before he was dragged by Nikolai, tugging on his sleeve and pulling him to the bed. Fyodor’s bed. Then pushing him down to the mattress as if he was nothing but another plushie added to the collection.

“Gogol! I didn’t come here to have a sleepover!” Sigma complains, rolling his eyes before meeting your gaze, and giving you an awkward smile.

Then meeting Fyodor's.

Something didn’t seem to add up.

“Am I… missing something?”

“This little dove needs our help, my dear friend! You see, the storm ruffled their lovely feathers so they needed to shelter in our embrace.”

Sigma raises an eyebrow at the jester’s words, and even if he's stuck in this —unwanted— situation it's not difficult to understand the message. He sighs, lying back on the bed and holding your hand, “It’s going to be okay, angel.”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to his lips and placing a soft peck on the back of it. He cares about you more than he hates having to deal with Nikolai.

The four of you managed to fit in Fyodor's bed with little space in between. Nikolai's head is now resting on your chest, him in between your legs, his arms around your waist. On the other hand, Fyodor and Sigma were lying on each side of you, either playing with your hair or stroking your hand. Any soft touch brings you closer to dozing off.

Fyodor mutters a small apology because of his "friends" behavior. His fingers graze your palm before he locks his fingers with yours as well. Silence slowly begins flooding the room; you feel perfectly safe with them around, so you close your eyes, letting your body relax.

“Oh! I have the greatest idea, how about we have a sleepover and do our nails and—”

“Nikolai.” The three of you called his name almost as if grounding a child; making the jester frown and pout.

You couldn't suppress your giggles, thinking that this might be the first —and the last— time you'll have the three men from the same dangerous organization sleeping together in the same bed only because they care about you, in their own way.

The storm slowly fades away, forgotten in the warmth of their embrace.

When waking up the next morning, you'll have to face the pain in your limbs from being entangled around them… And wondering how you and Fyodor ended up in between Sigma and Nikolai's hug.

© 2024 pinklacydovey — Do not copy, repost, or recommend my works on other platforms. reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

[naneun-no]

From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

[antiquarianfics]

Just a library of things I wrote for ease of access!

Fics are ordered newest to oldest.

❀ Fluff ○ Angst ✧ Smut

★ Personal Favorite ✰ 1k+ Notes

Requesting Guidelines

Oneshots

Don't Think About It ❀ Maybe admitting how you feel isn’t the worst thing?

Soon You'll Get Better ○ Desperate people find faith. Bucky's desperate for you to get better, so, yeah, he'll pray to someone else's god.

Dark and Bloody Ground ○ ★ So you violently murdered a man? So what? You did it in the name of love.

Making Waves ❀○ Bucky gives you a pep talk when life’s beating down on you a little too hard.

Shoot Me ❀ ★ Bucky swears he doesn’t like Y/N. In fact, he’s so confident he’ll challenge this: If he likes Y/N, shoot him.

Draw 4 ❀ You always swear you can hold your liquor until the next morning when you’ve no clue how you’re $80 richer and why your husband is too amused for your liking.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa ❀ ✰ Becca Barnes is generally not a serious child. She is, on the contrary, quite the opposite. She’s a silly, carefree, easy-going kid, so whenever her demeanor changes to the opposite, it is an immediate red flag that something is wrong.

A Slip of the Tongue ❀ ✰ Bucky reacts to your daughter’s new name for him as she tells him all about her new friend.

Slow Down ❀ An object in motion stays in motion until acted upon by an outside force. In this case, you’re the object and Bucky is the outside force.

You Have a Girlfriend? ❀ ★ ✰ So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?

The Best Things Take Time ❀ ✰ Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.

Therapy ❀ Sometimes all a person needs is a little reassurance they’re not a bad person.

Jealousy, Jealousy ❀ ○ ✰ Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, or so they say. You’d argue that jealousy is actually a blue-eyed, one-armed, super soldier.

Better Than Us ❀ Being a woman is hard, and it’s not necessarily something you’d wish on another.

Marry Me? Nah. Marry Me? Yeah. ❀ ★ ✰ 4 times Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you refuse. 1 time Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you accept.

Buck Moon ❀ So maybe you read the Farmer’s Almanac wrong. It’s still a successful date.

Shower ❀ ○ Sometimes it's all you can do to breathe. Sometimes you need a little help--even with the basics. Bucky's happy to help.

Sun to Me ❀ If there is one thing Bucky Barnes remembers about his mother, it is that she told him to find someone who plants flowers in the darkest parts of him. If there is one thing Bucky Barnes knows about Reader, it is that they grow him to the clouds.

Timeless ❀ Reader wonders how their life might have looked different in 1944, but they know they still would have loved Bucky Barnes.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Series

Accidental | pt 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 | blurb 1 ○ ★ What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

Taken (ongoing) ○ If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Drabbles

Lost Time ❀○

Poolside ❀

Distraction ❀○

Can I? ❀ ✰

Not What I Heard ❀✰

Ruinin’ the Game ❀

[iwaoiness]

Of course, Oikawa doesn't know how to sit still, not even on the motorbike. And the problem isn't the weight of his torso pressed against Iwaizumi’s back, nor how perfectly Iwaizumi's hips fit like puzzle pieces between Oikawa's legs. No. It’s his fucking arms and hands, with those damn long, bony fingers. Iwaizumi can't stop feeling them all over his body every time he rides his Suzuki down the roads of Irvine with Tooru behind him.

Sometimes, one of Oikawa’s arms drapes over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, with his hand resting on his chest, right over his heart. It stays there, quiet and gentle, until—of course—Oikawa gets bored and starts stroking him, up and down, side to side, even giving him light taps. And when the tapping starts, suddenly Hajime gives zero fucks about the traffic rules and tries to stop him by letting go of one of the handlebars to pinch Oikawa's thigh.

Other times, however, Oikawa is more calmer and more sweeter. He’s content to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, leaning a little more against his back, before he starts humming one of his favorite pop songs. Even though they’re both wearing helmets and the wind roars around them, Iwaizumi recognizes every song, feeling them resonate through his back, where Oikawa’s chest is pressed against him. And when that happens, Hajime once again gives zero fucks about traffic rules, letting go of one of the handlebars to gently wrap his hand around one of Tooru’s, caressing it with tender care.

At every red light, Oikawa’s hands usually slide down, his fingers deliberately brushing the exposed skin of Iwaizumi’s strong arms before anchoring themselves at his waist. He rests his helmeted head on Hajime’s shoulder, visor lifted to reveal his warm eyes and wide smile, and starts talking about whatever crosses his mind. Iwaizumi raises his visor too, just to look at him, listening intently and teasing him at every chance, his fingers playfully entwined with Oikawa’s until the light turns green.

And when they’re trapped in the fucking traffic, Tooru finds amusement in Hajime’s broad back, tracing random shapes with his finger for Iwaizumi to guess. A flower, a star, a triangle, a big heart, a crescent moon, an arrow. And when Iwaizumi teases him for being too easy, Oikawa starts with kanji. He writes the kanji for love, life, home, eternity, happiness. Iwaizumi guesses them all, and then it’s his turn. He draws random shapes on the back of Tooru’s hand, which is anchored at his waist. A crown, another heart, a four-leaf clover, a sun, a raindrop, an X. And when Oikawa teases him back for being easy, he starts with words. He writes slowly, letter by letter: pretty, partner, lindo, king, te amo.

Riding the motorcycle with Oikawa sitting behind is a torment because he just can’t stay still, constantly touching and touching and touching, but Iwaizumi wouldn’t trade it for anything.

...

THIS IS SO SO SO SO SO IWAOI CODED IM SCREAMING

u can find me and (probably) this on my ao3 🍉

[jeanie-in-a-bottle]

I think Ponyboy and Johnny’s friendship is cute and I love them as besties but they don’t infect my soul the way Johnny and Dallas’s relationship does, because to me there’s no like intense feelings between them

Not that relationships gotta be a whirlwind of passion and emotion, but ponyboy and Johnny overall have a pretty cut & dry relationship, not in a bad way at all but

- Ponyboy likes to talk, Johnny listens

- Ponyboy is very Sun-coded, Johnny moon-coded

- Best friends who cuddled together in the book

- Who Ponyboy is closest to (besides his family)

+ the Curtis family is good for Johnny to be around

All cute things that seem like popular romance tropes that could be used

BUT Johnny and Dally’s relationship dynamic is so much more than that

- let’s just get it out of the way, Dallas died for/because of his love of Johnny

- not only that it’s canonical that he only loved Johnny in his life & he couldn’t possibly be without him

- they have understanding but they still differ greatly; Dallas understands how Johnny feels trapped in a shitty situation with shitty parents, but he doesn’t understand Johnny’s inability to hate his parents. While Johnny gets why Dallas doesn’t let anyone talk down to him but does know how he does it

- Johnny being able to talk to Dallas the way he does when they’re at the drive-in proves so much about them, because obviously not only does Dallas let him speak like that unlike how he would react to anyone else

but the fact that Johnny trusts him enough to not hurt him when he speaks up says so much about the levels of trust and mutual respect in their relationship

+ Johnny gets Dallas to show his emotions more than anyone else ( A.k.a “a high pleading tone I’ve never heard dally use before” cough cough)

In conclusion Johnny and Dallas have a connection that is so much more intense than normal friendship, and that doesn’t diminish the connection between friends like PB & Johnny but it’s definitely an interesting comparison :P

[xpoisoned-stardustx]

This is a question for people who excuse Eclipse’s actions.

So I’m not gonna insult you or anything, because it’s sort of your opinion, but I will ask you some things.

1. What exactly is ‘tragic’ about Eclipse’s backstory? I mean, Moon wanted to get rid of a non-sentient code in him that made him kill kids and hurt his brother. After separating it, the code somehow gained sentience and decided not to talk to Moon or Sun and try work things out, but to try and kill them and make their lives a living hell. I don’t get it. Moon nor Sun had any idea that he was sentient. Now I understand that it sucks to be abandoned (I would know) but it doesn’t excuse; attempted murder, murder, abuse, manipulations, guilt tripping, gas lighting, death threats and MANY MORE.

2. How can you like him after he made someone (idk how to put it) and only used them, abused them and manipulated them. He is the definition of abuser. What on Earth is excusable about that? Tell me. Oh- and how could I forget? KILLED them. Granted, this time, the person did do something to Eclipse (betraying him), but it was so they could escape the constant torture and lies. And it’s not like Eclipse was planning to keep them after he was done anyway.

3. I saw people commenting on the most recent video (Ruin’s plan to kill Eclipse in VRCHAT) about how “he hasn’t even been here for a month and they’re already trying to get rid of him” and “give him a break!” But in less than a month he’s trapped Sun, Moon and Ruin, threatened to use Lunar as a battery and kidnapped Ruin so I think they’re perfectly in the right to want to get rid of him. Dude couldn’t give himself a break, it’s not their job to do it for him. Also is anyone else getting deja vu from that? Oh, that’s right, the fact that Lunar couldn’t last a month either without someone trying to kill him too. Actually, mere SECONDS after Lunar was back, Eclipse was saying to kill him.

Idk I just wanted to know your reasoning. That’s all. And I like making words into pretty colours

Reminder that this is my opinion, and boy do i hold grudges, so take everything I say with a grain of salt

EDIT. my opinion has changed. I still hate Eclipse but not as much. Also I’m not saying ur bad if u like Eclipse. I, saying if you excuse his actions and say that because he has trauma, he’s a saint.

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

baji vers | geto vers

synopsis: unbeknownst to you, the grave you visit everyday has been empty for years. keisuke is finally ready to come see you again.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!baji, character death, devotion, grief and dealing with it, slightly angsty but also fluffy, pet names (baby, kitten), swearing, a little selfship coded, NOT PROOFREAD!, SFW feel free to interact but pls remember i'm an 18+ blog!

ft: vampire!baji x reader, 2.4k

network: @enchantedforest-network

an: here's baji's version!! actually, this one was supposed to come AFTER suguru's but... erm... hehe. it also was supposed to be spookier, but i am nothing but a big ole softy for my loverboy. ): happy halloween! i wanted to post it on his birfday, but i think this is more fitting! could've been longer but i just wanted to get something out LOL. thanks to nie for letting me ramble about this lil fic!!

life is such a finicky thing. and sometimes, the time ticks by too slowly for your liking until it’s suddenly too fast, too short, too soon.

you’ve been to this grave a hundred - no maybe thousands of times, over the years. and yet, like the snowfall, your tears slip down your cheeks, hugging the warmth of your body, til they fall onto the ground disappearing into the asphalt. 

chifuyu matsuno thinks one day, he’ll beat you to it. one day he’ll be the one who arrives first, turning around with a smile and holding a bag of peyoung yakisoba. it’ll be his eyes rimmed red with hands trembling so hard that he’s sure they’ll snap. but you are always here first, almost every day for the past god knows how many years. 

every aspect of the word “first”, is what keisuke baji had embodied. first division captain, first born son, and your first love. he was rowdy, rough, sometimes a little insensitive, but at the end of it all, he was loyal. he was yours. 

“if i’m yours, then you’re mine.” he grinned, toothy, vibrant and all encompassing. his hands held yours like they were the world, and maybe, in a sense, they were. but even the world cannot last forever, the stars themselves bursting at the seams when their time has come. 

“they’re so pretty.” you told him, leaning against his shoulder, pointing up with your index finger. “don’tcha think?” 

“they’re alright,” he mumbled, but he kept his eyes upward, staring at the same stars as you. “i'd rather look at you.” 

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you laughed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

when stars die, they leave a beautiful supernova, an explosion of color across the galaxy, painting the universe in rich hues of color. but when baji died, you thought it was so fucking ugly. you remember throwing up the first night, your own shitty constellation within the porcelain of your toilet. 

then the world started to dim, like the world was dipped in muted shades when there used to be so much vibrance. the sun was no longer as bright and you no longer sought comfort under the moon, hiding away from even her blue light. 

if there is solace in one thing, it’s that baji was a really good liar. sure, he was different that day and sometimes had trouble looking at you, but there was nothing to suspect that he would decide to plunge in that knife and bleed out on the ground of that god forsaken junkyard. 

“i’m scared you’ll go away,” you told him one night, so desperately wishing now that you would’ve noticed the way he tensed ever so slightly. “like, one day, i’ll wake up and you’re not there anymore.” 

you remember how he leaned in, nose brushing against yours before pulling back slightly. “and where would i go that doesn’t have you in it?” he grinned, another bright fanged smile that eased every single worry out of your brain. and you decided in that moment, that keisuke was always going to be the one that held your heart in his hands. 

“marry me one day.” you replied and he laughed, before holding up his pinky to yours. “good. saying no wasn’t an option.” 

“figured.” 

but today is not a day to be caught in memories as the sun plummets below the horizon, as the sky shifts from a pretty magenta pink to inky black. feet bouncing off the pavement, you scurry over to his grave. you chastise yourself for being late today of all days, it was his birthday. 

“sorry!” you call out as you finally make it, hands on your knees as you suck precious air back into your lungs. “sorry i’m late, kei.” 

you do the usual of pouring water onto the tombstone, before you light a candle and spread the blanket beneath you, sitting cross-legged as you pull out the contents of your bag. “i got a little something extra today,” you say, eagerly pulling out the sealed little slice of cake you got at the bakery. “okay… so it looks a little fucked, but don’t mind that.” you giggle, before sighing.

“if you were here… what would you say?” you mumble to yourself, before putting on your best keisuke voice. “hah? it’s still edible isn’t it?... or something.” you nod as if in response to him, before tearing it open and setting it down. “chifuyu saw you earlier right? did he bring you something good? oh! and, i was looking at some of the cats at the pet shop earlier, they’re no peke j but, they’re still cute, y’know?” 

you always do this. you ramble and ramble, relaying your day to him as if he’s listening intently to you. sometimes, you’ll imagine when the two of you sat in his room, his lips quirked up into a smile as he nodded and listened to you. 

“the cake is good!” you exclaim, taking a bite. it’s fluffy, creamy, and sweet, it almost masks the saltiness of your tears that seep past your lips, onto your tongue and settle on your buds. 

almost.

“fuck- sorry. sorry for crying.” you use one hand to wipe away at your tears, the other holding onto your convenient plastic fork. it’s harder to breathe now, sobs wracking your body as your mind floods with “what ifs” once again. what if you had asked him to stay with you that day? what if you tried harder? what if you had noticed something was wrong sooner? could you have done anything? and what if-

lost in your thoughts you almost miss the familiar drawl that used to set your heart and soul on fire. “still a crybaby, eh?” 

you freeze, the fall breeze caressing your cheek as you sniffle and ever so slowly, turn. you must have been hearing things, you think, as there’s nothing there but the other stone graves and the leaves on the wind. 

“maybe i am losing my fucking mind...” you mutter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, “i should look into therapy.” 

you shake your head, a little spooked. it’s getting later by the moment, the only light nearby being the candle, a warm-orange flame surrounded by night. you lean over to blow it out, but stop, feeling that you should stay a bit longer. not only are you late, but it’s keisuke’s day, it wouldn’t be right to leave so soon. you frown, before settling back in place. 

“anyways, what was i saying?” you hum, taking another scoop of your dessert. “something-“

“something about the new cats at chifuyu’s shop right?” that familiar voice sounds again, closer this time, tickling the shell of your ear. 

you immediately jerk around and almost pass out at what you see. crouched down and smiling, that familiar wolfy grin is keisuke, looking just like you remembered. from the way his long, inky hair frames his face to the vivid carmine of his eyes, it’s keisuke. 

“hey, continue the story baby, i was listening.” he gestures to the cake on your fork, slipping off the utensil from the shakiness of your hands. “lemme have a bite?” 

you’re snapped from your stupor when he finally touches you, cold fingers lightly guiding your hand upward towards his mouth. you immediately scramble back, the cake falling onto the blanket below. 

“kitten,” he says, frowning at the mess, “y’know i hate wasting food.” the pet name almost sends you into a spiral, the way it falls off his tongue so easily, just like he always used to say it, almost like it was your name at times. 

“you’re not real.” you whisper, shaking your head slightly, the words trapped behind the door of your brain unleashing in that moment. “i’m hallucinating. i have to be.” 

he inches towards you as you continue to crawl back, back hitting the cold gray stone. keisuke leans in, snuffing out the candle between his fingers first before redirecting his attention to you. he’s so close you’re sure he can feel your breath, but the odd thing is, you can’t feel his.

“if i wasn’t real…” he starts, inching in so close your noses just barely touch, just a hair widths away, “could i do this?” he kisses you then, just barely holding back his deep fervent need to snatch you up and take you home. wherever that was. 

it’s strange, baji’s cold, nearly ice, and yet you feel the familiar rush of warmth through your veins that once bloomed so deeply in your heart, that everything suddenly does feel real. the two of you stay like that for a few moments and when he pulls away you lean in again, snatching him by the collar to press another kiss to the lips that you missed so much. 

baji’s wolfish grin plays on his face in between the kisses you continue to plant against his lips and his skin, alternating between his cheeks and jawline. “yeah, yeah, i missed you too, you big crybaby.” he laughs, cupping your face to swipe at the tears that fall freely once again. 

you whine when he forces you to pull off, bringing your hands up to his, almost as if you’re sure he’ll run off again and be gone by morning. “you’re really keisuke? …this isn’t a joke?” you shake your head as you ask, hiccuping and trying your best to heave in gulps of air. 

“yeah, it’s me.” he answers, the crinkle of his eyes never leaving. 

but you just don’t get it. how is baji here and not well, six-feet under? almost as if he can read your mind he speaks, “i’m not really sure how it happened either.” he starts, releasing you and staring down at his palms, opening and closing them, almost as if he’s also in a daze. “i shouldn’t be here, i know that. i made sure i wouldn’t and yet, i woke up not too long after that day.” he lifts his shirt up and you wince in anticipation, but there’s nothing where the old stab wound should be, like it never happened. 

hesitantly, you place your hand flat against the area, before your fingertips trace the outline where it should be. you exhale deeply before speaking again, “how come you only showed up now?” 

he gives you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck, as the hem of his shirt falls back into place. “well… i had to sort of figure things out. dunno how well received i would’ve been if i just showed up after my own funeral.” he jokes, but you glare at him. 

“do you have any idea at all how badly that fucked me up?” you ask, remembering the countless nights you spent staring up at your bedroom walls so utterly exhausted from crying or the days you spend in a haze, trying your best to get through the day. you won’t lie, you’ve been so angry since that day. endlessly lonely, endlessly empty, and just when you thought you’d be able to get over it, he shows up like it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“well, i watched you a lot.” he admits, gazing around the cemetery. “you come here every single day, you cry every single time, even when you say you’re not going to. you’ve cursed me out in death more times than i can count and i think you’ve tried every single type of peyoung soba. you, chifuyu, and kazutora have only come here together a handful of times and everytime one of you ends up drunk crying.” he snorts, before continuing, “you sleep with my hair ties under your pillow and almost had the balls to ask my mom for my toman jacket, multiple times.she would’ve said yeah, by the way. every evening you say goodnight to me and that you love me.” 

he grins when you sit there, mouth agape, and asks, “did i miss anythin’?” 

you shake your head, “but what now? i still don’t get why you came here today?” 

he shrugs, “i’ve got a question for ya.” but his expression is serious now, the shift in his features making you nervously fidget with your hands. but before you can look away, he tilts your head towards him, the other hand intertwining with yours, locking you in place. “you still wanna be with me forever?” 

your heart pounds in your chest, almost alarmingly so, as you gaze at him with lidded eyes while your voice is light, fluttering back up to him and relaying the answer he’s been waiting to hear. “of course, keisuke.”

“and you’d do anything? …let me do anything?” he questions further, squeezing when you nod your head. 

you’d let me turn you?

and you’re aware now, what it is he’s asking. and maybe, you think it’s because you centered so much of you life around him, that leaving it behind doesn’t sound too bad. if you were the clouds, then baji was the sky, always trying to stay in that space so intrinsically bound to one another that only death could have separated you. 

he never said the word, but he didn’t really need to. what was the one thing that could have escaped death like this?  what else was he but a vampire? 

“okay,” he sighs, “if you’re sure.”

“more than ever.” you state. 

keisuke is fast, picking you up and into his arms. naturally, you wrap yours around his neck, a part of you still thinking that this must be a dream. 

“well, there’s no way we’re gonna do it in some freakin’ cemetery.” he jokes and you giggle. if his heart could beat, he’s sure it’d flutter just as fast as yours. 

“hey are you gonna turn chifuyu?” you ask, blinking up at him, “or tora?” 

“you think they’d wanna hang out with us? for eternity?” he asks, picking up the pace as he walks.

“hmm, maybe you’re right. besides, takemichi’s gonna miss them too much right?” you continue, the breeze kissing your now dried cheeks. 

“don’t forget mikey.” he adds, before continuing, “well, it’s not like we can’t visit sometime.” 

you nod, placing your head on his shoulder, “not too soon though, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

he smiles at you as he answers, “don’t worry. we’ve got all the time in the world.” 

as the two of you leave, you peek back towards the lights of the city, becoming smaller and smaller with each step. and you wonder how upset chifuyu’ll be tomorrow when he finds your half-eaten cake, spread out on an already forgotten blanket. 

[gmax-centiskorch]

Mainline Pokémon Games Based on How Buggy They Are: A Thread

Red, Blue, & Yellow

Pretty buggy. The Butterfree line set the stage for regional bugs and emotional trauma. Everybody loves Scyther. Inspired use of Cordyceps when designing the Parasect line. Kabuto and Kabutops should have been Bug to honor trilobites for founding Arthropoda. 8/10.

Gold, Silver, & Crystal

Yes, we had Scyther, but what about second Scyther? Scizor, Heracross, and Shuckle are legends. Game Freak decided to invite arachnids (Spinarak and Ariados) to the party, truly redefining what it means to be buggy. 9/10.

Ruby, Sapphire, & Emerald

This generation is loaded with bugs! Game Freak realized their mistake in not giving the Kabutops line Bug typing, making up for it with Anorith and Armaldo (who are based on Anomalocaris). They fumble the recovery, however, in not only depriving the Flygon line of Bug typing, but forever making them second fiddle to the Salamence line. The Beautifly, Dustox, and Ninjask lines introduce some interesting approaches to Bug-type evolution. Volbeat and Illumise are there. 7.8/10.

Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum

DELELELELELEWHOOOOOOP! A smaller collection of bugs this gen, but a well-rounded one. Vespiquen slays. Scorpions get some love via Skorupi, Drapion, and Gliscor. Writing this post is making me realize that slugs, snails, and nudibranchs like the Magcargo and Gastrodon lines aren’t bugs. We grew up thinking snails were bugs, right? Anyway, Yanmega rules. 8/10.

Black, White, Black 2, White 2

Game Freak’s magna opera. Truly the buggiest games there are. While you have to wait until Pinwheel Forest to encounter your first bugs, you’re rewarded upon arrival with Sewaddle and Venipede, the larvae of the Leavanny and Scolipede lines. From there, you encounter the Crustle, Galvantula, and Volcarona lines. Game Freak has some more fun with Bug evolutions, having Karrablast steal Shelmet’s armor as they evolve into Escavalier and Accelgor (inspired by the real-world interactions between the ground beetle family Carabidae and the gastropods they feed on). Durant is our first proper ant, and we get our first (and only . . . ) legendary / mythical Bug in Genesect. These games made Bug my favorite type. 10/10.

X & Y

A big step down from the previous generation. This game hardly has any bugs. Do you like butterflies? You get a butterfly. Vivillon is a lovely butterfly that comes in all sorts of colors, but SURELY there are more bugs than that in France. 6/10.

Sun, Moon, Ultra Sun, Ultra Moon

Giant isopods! Diving bell spiders! Giraffe stag beetles! A true return to form. While the native bugs of Alola are great, we are also introduced to the ultra beasts, two of which (Buzzwole and Pheromosa) are really cool bugs. It seems they were going for wasps and bee flies when designing the Naganadel and Ribombee lines, but they don’t really work for me. Faint blemishes on an otherwise buggy generation. 8.5/10.

Sword & Shield

Centiskorch is the greatest Pokémon ever made. I have them tattooed on my arm. Blipbug is the worst Pokémon ever made. I see them in my nightmares. Interesting that they’re both Bug Pokémon, and that Game Freak really min-maxed with them. Fortunately, Blipbug evolves into Dottler and Orbeetle, who are great. Snom has a place in everyone’s heart, and Frosmoth is elegant as can be. 9.5/10.

Scarlet & Violet

I love Rellor and Rabsca! I . . . don’t really love the rest! Iron Moth and Slither Wing are great, but they’re nepo babies. Tarountula and Nymble are nice, but Spidops and Lokix leave something to be desired. Orthworm is a a big worm. At the end of the day, these games would be alright if they weren’t so wonkily coded and glitchy. Wish there was a better word for that. 7/10.

[anzulvr]

Hiii! May I request for some Hcs about Karma and a "famous" reader for something like acting/modeling related because her family? But actually her mother and brother are a little piece of shit with her, just like her internal environment. Her attitude at first is a bit dry, but she is a loving person (Plus if have a fear of knives and learn to deal with Karma and the murder thing in the classroom)

(Btw, english is not my first language, sorry if something sounds weird. Idk if this is very specific, I'M SORRY, it's been on my mind for a long time, I love your writing, it's the first time I ask for :( AAAAA I KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT OF REQUETS, take your time💐)

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took this long, I’ve been busy :(

Karma Akabane x Famous reader

(more description in the ask!)

. ˚◞♡   ⃗ 🎐 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— If there’s one thing he makes fun of you the most it’s definitely the fame thing, anytime he sees you in a magazine or TV he snaps a pic on his phone and sends it to you like you don’t already know your on it😭

— Being kinda awkward at first isn’t something he minds he actually likes poking fun at you and trying to get you off guard.

— once you do let your guard down everyone is surprised Karma is the classmate who got you to open up, it’s an unexpected match but really fitting.

— sun x moon trope, (reader = sun, Karma = moon)

You both are inseparable and can talk about anything once comfortable enough, you’re also able to relate to each other, while your family issues come from different circumstances you guys are able to entrust in one another once you get comfortable enough and even find some relatable points in the conversation. (He’s the best secret keeper and gives surprisingly helpful advice when he wants to.)

— He finds your fear of knives and assassination in class endearing considering the knifes are more rubber like, he pokes fun at you for it but at the same time gives you advice and tries to help you get over your fear.

— if the fame is pushed on soely by your family and it’s not really what you want he’ll encourage you to just drop the whole thing and kinda rebel against what they want, wanting you to have control of your own life. (Parents wouldn’t approve of him whatsoever but it’s okay Karma for the win. This kinda depends on if he’s willing to put up a front for them and act like the “perfect” guy in their eyes or if they’re truly the worst and he doesn’t care enough to sugarcoat things for them, could go either way.)

— he acts like the paparazzi for fun, you’ll be sitting doing homework or something and his phone camera flash will go off (he purposely has flash on to annoy you)

— corniest nicknames depending on what you do, he’s also the one who picks your code name from class, something like “Hollywood”

Bonus note:

If you do Film, Kayano is mega jealous AND starstruck by you because the girl is a theatre nerd, definitely recognized you when you first went to 3E because she’s a fan and DEFINITELY asks you to hook her up with jobs in the film industry 😭 also depends what movies [name] acts in though because if it’s more action Nagisa would be second in line for that autograph (right behind Karma who asks for two because he wants to sell one on eBay)

MIMURA TOO OMG (the director student of 3E) he’s asking so many questions of the industry and is invested in everything you say.

If you do modeling, Rio is the first to recognize you when you walk in because she’s obsessed with your makeup/clothing brand. Also Yada whose into fashion and all that stuff, Yada is the type to make those cute little fashion inspiration boards and you’re on it of course.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes!! Please tell me if you catch any so I can fix! 🩷

[inverted-typo]

Re: halloween costumes

Okay hear me out 😅

I don’t actually think Damian and Raven are sun and moon coded, the whole thing is they’re both dark and demony right, but—

For Dami there’s “sun” potential in the gold and green armor & middle eastern / al Ghul heritage imagery.

Raven is just so obviously already a “moon” aesthetic.

I don’t knoww. Maybe I just love an epic headdress and proper Damian al Ghul fit but I could see it heh

We will be so fucking fortunate for any art you create and share with us 🥹

STOOOPP OMGG this moodboard is everything. Once upon a time, back in the hetalia fandom (jesus im old), I did a celestial AU thing where one was the sun god and one was the moon god and this totally took me back to that

[ikamigami]

I do not get how Sun can be blamed for Eclipse, there’s so many reasons why not

Sun AND Moon had no idea he was there, even Moon erroneously thought he just left some inert code in there that wouldn’t turn into something, but Sun had no idea because Moon never told him and Eclipse didn’t say anything right up until after July 16th

They blaming Sun’s bad thoughts is some of the most victim-blaming nonsense I’ve ever heard, this is the kind of belief people with OCD rail against because EVERYBODY has bad thoughts and/or intrusive thoughts, especially if they’re as abused and neglected as Sun is, the only thing that matters is if you act on them and Sun never did, he’s not evil for just having mean thoughts, it’s an excuse

Some argue Eclipse was upset with Sun for not standing up for himself and that’s why but that’s also nonsense, this is about as idiotic as Moon abusing Sun to “make him have a spine”, that’s NOT how you do it that’s basic abuse 101, if Eclipse was really seeing Sun’s true thoughts on his mistreatment and really cared he wouldn’t have made Sun’s life twice as awful

And then there’s Solar, living proof every choice Eclipse made didn’t have to happen, he could’ve chosen to be better at any point and all the bad was his choice, Solar proves he could’ve approached this all differently and got what he wanted sooner, he didn’t have to make himself everyone’s enemy, or at least Sun’s enemy as Sun even tried to plead with him even AFTER July 16th(which says something because they didn’t know about Bloodmoon, they thought Eclipse did it, so Sun trying to make nice with and beg the presence that killed the children he was closest too is a lot, even if it’s partially out of fear he had every right to hate Eclipse but he instead tried making peace)

All of the arguments people give for blaming Sun for Eclipse really irk me as it is victim-blaming, the one who’s far more responsible is Moon because he made Eclipse in the first place, but instead of just focusing on the perpetrator Eclipse just had to lash out at Sun instead

You're absolutely right, dear anon! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me ^^

I needed this more than you could think

My theory or take on this is that despite Eclipse hearing Sun's most deep hidden thoughts he didn't understand Sun..

I mean I think that Sun's inner thoughts were intrusive thoughts and thoughts that he's bad.. so I think that this is where Eclipse's words came from.. that Sun isn't better than them and he's just lying.. and he tried to show that to Moon..

But despite that Sun didn't stand up for himself.. despite Eclipse being sure that Sun would be capable of doing so and more.. Sun not only didn't stand up for himself but also he stayed with Moon and believed in him..

Hence Eclipse's words that he hated how Sun was handling himself..

Eclipse doesn't understand Sun.. he doesn't know that Sun's inner thoughts - from what I've gathered - are just his delusional perception of himself with also intrusive and impulsive thoughts and paranoia..

None of the things that happened to Eclipse were Sun's fault.. and yeah Eclipse should've focus more on Moon for leaving him behind abandoning him in Sun's head.. and for being abusive towards Sun as Eclipse could only watch..

Same was with Moon at the beginning.. instead of being angry at FazCo. he had to lash out at Sun who was nice and tried to help him..

Sun was really unfairly treated in life.. he got the worst hand..

And Eclipse was too bitter to care.. but I think that he still felt something.. because he was shocked by Sun's outbursts.. because he doesn't understand Sun..

And I think that he realized that Sun wasn't at fault like previous versions of him thought.. but I agree with goodolddumbbanana that Eclipse doesn't like to admit that he's wrong hence why he acts like the Sun from eaps is actually just like our Sun was.. even if that's not true.. but I think that he's just projecting to not have to face the truth fully.. because then he had to admit that he was wrong and he had to apologize for what he's done to Sun.. (even though it wasn't exactly him but he treats it like that)

But you're absolutely right that fans are awful for victim blaming Sun for Eclipse's situation.. because none of this was his fault.. even a tiniest bit..

Sun doesn't deserve such treatment especially when we see how much he tries to be better and do good and be kind.. despite everything..

Thank you once again, dear anon ^^

[glade-constellation]

“We’re going to literally spell out why the bad guy is bad, and how to help them, but do nothing about it because they are Bad Guy™️ and bad guys can’t change.”

The current running theme for every single fucking villain in TSAMS. A running theme I viscerally hate with my entire being. I think KC was the only one to escape this, but even then they just killed him off later.

For a show that seems to want to handle sensitive and heavy topics, they sure as hell never handle them well. Listen, if a majority of your audience is young teens, you need to be careful with the story you tell and what might be taken from it. TSAMS is teaching its audience that bad people will never change.

That’s just not true. At all.

Often people who act out do so because of past trauma. Trauma can be healed with time and therapy. Yes, it’s difficult, especially when the person says they don’t want to heal. But you can do it. Did you know that rejecting help can be a subconscious survival tactic? It doesn’t instantly mean that the person wants to be bad, or wants to stay bad. They are simply living in survival mode, and their brain thinks the way they currently act is the only way to survive.

Just because Bloodmoon says they can’t be helped doesn’t mean it’s true. And it definitely doesn’t mean they immediately deserve death. Yes, they have done terrible things, but nearly everything they’ve done has been ordered of them by another person. That, or their coding. The coding may be a harder thing to fix, but listen. Look at your current cast. You can’t tell me Moon and Solar couldn’t work together to fix it. Or Earth couldn’t help them with therapy and they’d eventually turn to killing just animals. There are so many ways Bloodmoon could be helped, but no. Just no. They don’t want to be helped, so we won’t go out of our way to try.

It’s just so unbelievably frustrating that several fans have pointed this out and the show doesn’t seem to care. Bloodmoon has room to be redeemed, even now, but the show doesn’t want that. They seem to be stuck on this idea the Bloodmoon can’t be redeemed.

And it’s not like this is a new theme they’re trying to tell for the story. No, this has been around since Eclipse. Yes, Sun and Moon did try to help Eclipse in the beginning, but help is a strong word. It was more like they tried to bargain with him. No one actually tried to help. And the moment the bargaining didn’t work, they just dubbed him the villain and turned against him. In the end, Eclipse tried to help. It was pretty terribly done, yeah. But he was trying. He even gave up his one piece of power and told Moon he could send him anywhere in the multiverse. But no, the only way out was through death. I get that Eclipse did a lot of terrible things. I get that a large majority of the cast had their own trauma because of Eclipse. But he could have been helped. We have seen moments where he wanted help, but would immediately turn back to his survival tactics. Eclipse was bad, but he didn’t have to die.

Anyways, they already taught the “villains always bad” story with Eclipse. They don’t need to retell it with Bloodmoon. That’s just reusing old parts of the story.

The only reason I don’t bring Ruin up is because Ruin was different from all the others. There wasn’t anything that made him a villain besides the fact that he was a virus. There was no “sad backstory”. He just was evil. That is how you write a villain you want your audience to love but still want to kill off in the end. Ruin was fun to watch, and a great villain, and I wasn’t mad when they got rid of the virus. I was attached but not at the emotional level as I am with Eclipse, KC, and Bloodmoon. He had no backstory to make me want him to live. I love a villain that is enjoyable to watch but don’t mind when they’re gone. That is how you write a good villain you don’t want people to riot about afterwards.

This has just turned into me ranting about storytelling and character analysis, but honestly. TSAMS. Do better. A good portion of your fan base is screaming for a Bloodmoon redemption. Why are you pushing so hard for people to hate them? You’ve already told the plot line you’re currently trying to sell. What is the point of just upsetting your fans?