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atlabeth · 2 months

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Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight

and thankfully, that all goes okay.

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals.

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect.

But post-ball is rough on both of you.

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs.

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses.

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again)

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed.

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you.

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat.

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head.

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck)

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.)

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down.

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?”

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.”

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.”

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered.

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.”

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?”

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.”

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.”

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.”

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.”

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.”

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand.

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked.

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped.

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again.

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.”

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.”

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?”

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded.

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.”

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp.

yeah girlie I wonder why

Luke is. not a great dancer

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way.

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.”

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.”

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together.

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it.

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda.

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him.

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand.

“Trust me.”

And he does, somehow.

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy.

“And lift!”

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him.

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him.

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?”

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?”

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.”

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose.

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.”

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.”

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.”

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.”

“It truly is.”

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you.

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence.

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said.

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.”

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?”

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.”

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.”

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.”

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so.

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.”

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach.

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room.

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.”

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything.

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins.

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.”

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester.

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.”

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“And you are my knight.”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed.

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes.

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…”

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile.

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly.

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him.

#IF I EVER DO NOT DO THE “IT'S BEAUTIFUL” “YEAH IT IS” *LOOKING AT THEM* TROPE THEN I AM DEAD I AM DEADDDD DO YOU HEAR ME #posting at midnight because i once again have no self control #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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clairegregoryau · 6 months

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Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gay pirates #ofmd meta #unreliable narrators #fantasy vs reality #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers

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rockatanskette · 8 months

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Semi-related to my post on how human conservation practices, but I have a cold today, and it's got me thinking about biological altruism—the biological imperative to put other creatures ahead of yourself, to benefit the group.

When talking about possible interactions with other species, we talk a lot about humans being crazy and thrill-seeking and impossible to kill. Never use a warning shot as an incentive to keep humans out of a fight; it'll just make them angry. And that's true. But a valid criticism I've seen in the "Earth is a death world" community is that according to our understanding of evolution, every planet must be some form of death world. Competition fosters evolution—the wolf with sharper claws survives when its litter mates die. You can't reach space travel without some casualties along the way.

But the dog survives because it makes friends with the strange ape carrying a sharp stick. And the strange ape survives because it befriends the wolf. Underneath the death world is an inextricable and undeniable layer of the bond world; the love world; the world, together.

I imagine some worlds are not death worlds. They're peaceful and tranquil. I suspect there are worlds far more deadly than Earth, where the skies rain diamonds, harder than any substance we know with the species to match. And I imagine that they are united in their confusion at the duality of humankind.

Today is a great example: I have a cold, and I want someone to take care of me, but the people who would are immunocompromised, also sick, or live 8 hours away, respectfully. I also want no one within the walls of my apartment or I will eat them. I feel gross, I feel tired, and I don't want a single human being anywhere near me, even if they did bring soup.

In my constant scrolling through my phone today, I decided to look up why the hell I feel so bad—why everyone feels so bad when they're ill. And the answer surprised me. I always thought it was because your immune system is active, so it's using a lot of your energy. That is part of it. Another part is that your brain and body are communicating across the blood-brain barrier to fight the infection, which is rare and energetically expensive.

But that doesn't explain everything, and according to more current research, it could also be what's called the Eyam Hypothesis: that we feel so gross, so we instinctively isolate from other people. We're too tired to deal with others, and so we don't infect them. Misanthropy for the good of the species. Of course, it can also backfire: one of the criticisms of the Eyam Hypothesis is that humans also instinctively care for each other. If my brother has a headache, I drive to the store for Advil.

Personally, I think it's a little bit of both: biological altruism. Either way, the majority live on. The first thought I had this morning when I woke up wasn't "I feel gross" it was "there's no way I'm going to work today." And while that might not be everyone's first thought, you don't even have to be a particularly altruistic person to not want to leave your home or your bed when you're sick. It's inborn.

And so when the human named Ismail comes down with a case of the interstellar common cold, his alien friend Dyos grows very concerned. Ismail is usually intensely social, almost off-puttingly so. Some crew members joke about how his quarters are for sleeping and prayer only; if he's home alone? You should be worried. But when Dyos demands an answer to the severity of Ismail's malady, the other humans just nod knowingly.

"Nah, he's okay, the medics already cleared him. It's not a severe infection."

"But there are so many...fluids. And his body has changed color."

There is a moment of confusion there until they remember that Dyos's species can see in the infrared color spectrum.

"Nah, that's just a low-grade fever. It should break in the next couple days."

"But he doesn’t want to play chess today," Dyos insists.

"Ohhhh," says human Claudia, finally understanding. "No, that's normal. Humans don't like being around other people when they're sick, it's supposed to be one of the major evolutionary advantages. Protect your community from your illness and the genes live on."

"So we're just going to leave him alone?" Dyos is troubled by this. He can go for weeks without speaking to another life form, but he has seen Ismail grow despondent when unable to participate in social gathering.

"Oh, no," human Claudia says, laughing. "We're going to employ one of the other most longstanding human evolutionary advantages."

There are many to choose from and Dyos settles on, "middle age?"

"Sort of," human Claudia opens up a small shipping container and holds up a brown paper bag tied with a colorful ribbon. It glows brightly in Dyos's vision, almost as brightly as human Claudia's smile. "His nanni's hot soup, express delivery."

#i feel like this is the one that's going to get discourse and to that i say:#stop it i no feel good #we can talk about other human responses to disease when my skull goes back to being the right temperature #send good feelings the us postal service won't let my babushka send me soup #anyway #humans are human #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #earth is a death world #earth is a bond world #lemme know if i forgot any of the main ones

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alexiethymia · 1 year

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Listen, book!Lockwood who is so repressed that it just translates to beaming smiles has a special place in my heart, but at the same time I cannot stress how much I appreciate the live action series for showing us unbelievably exhausted Lockwood who’s so obviously scared that Lucy and George will eventually leave (willingly or otherwise) but still has the gall to push them away. My boy was barely pulling it together. And ofc he would be so tired that the bags under his eyes are so prominent because we’re outside of Lucy’s POV now. Lucy who’s always had rose-colored glasses when it comes to him.

Speaking of Lucy, I really do love how she calls him out. She’s so aggressive with her love. It’s like she’s demanding that George and her will love and care for him and there’s absolutely nothing Lockwood can do about it so he just better shut up and take it. Peak found family right there.

How that scene where Lockwood comes to apologize to Lucy in the kitchen had so much ‘husband in the doghouse’ vibes, and how ultimately what Lucy is really mad about is just her wanting Lockwood to value his life more. And for Lockwood to outright admit that yeah he was a bit suicidal but it’s a bit like he found a new reason for living because of Lucy and George, again I say PEAK FOUND FAMILY, this is my jam. The ease of which Lucy being Lucy calms him down. (Ugh, again the domesticity of choosing egg cups). He can’t stand when she’s mad at him and he learns about apologizing properly this time around, but when she wordlessly forgives him, you can see on his face how he could fall so quickly and deeply in love with her. That’s one thing I love so much about the live action series. While the book showed us more of Lucy’s feelings for Lockwood, I actually think the series highlights Lockwood’s feelings more in that if I hadn’t read the books beforehand, I could have easily seen it as Lockwood falling first. His abandonment issues are so prominent in the series and while they play it with humor with Fittes and Kipps, you can just see that desperation behind the lighthearted tone, and for Lucy to say that she chooses Lockwood and George anyway….!

This is basically an excuse to ramble about the little things they add in the series that I love so much, which works because we’re not restricted to Lucy’s POV, in no particular order:

How Flo can immediately see how Lockwood feels about Lucy because of the effect she has on him. Prior to that statement, she’d only met Lucy once before, but that brief meeting told her everything she needed to know. She probably knew Lockwood in the aftermath of his family’s death, so for her to see Lockwood just buttering someone’s else toast for them and being all domestic and smiley, treating another person like a family member especially considering how guarded he is, she must have thought (and rightly so) that meeting Lucy made him have an appetite for life again.

We actually get to see Fittes’ and Lockwood’s side of the fight! And it was awesome. “I’m Anthony bloody Lockwood.” I can no longer remember if that line was in the book or not but idc I love it.

George and Lucy’s scene was in the book, but the acting in the series just really sold it for me. How Lucy’s heart just broke hearing George talk about himself, especially everything he said then were feelings I’m sure she’s also had about herself. I seriously loved that last episode. George and Lucy were adorable. Again I say, found family ftw.

The rise of the Flo x George ship! “You, me, and herons!” Again I say, adorable.

There are some elements that work better in book format, but in many ways the tv series really did elevate this beloved book series. It was a wonderful, wonderful adaptation. As a reader, I couldn’t be more satisfied. As a shipper, I couldn’t be more ecstatic.

#lockwood & co.#lockwood and co #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #george cubbins #flo bones #books #tv #I loved it so much #I thought pining lucy was bad enough #but pining lockwood??#omg I can’t believe we’re in the best timeline #if he’s already like this at this point #I can’t even imagine him should we reach The Hollow Boy and the aftermath of lucy leaving #he already had a death wish #he will no doubt end up unhinged at this rate when lucy leaves

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

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Intrinsic

Can we see how jungkook feels about human mating rituals like kissing? Do people from his planet kiss or have intercourse??

"I'm back!" You chirp, leaning over the couch to peck his cheek- making him freeze for a good moment as he seems to take time to process what you just did, it seems like.

He's decided to stay with you after your little confession weeks prior- but it seems like relationships in his culture might seem to differ greatly judging from his reaction to your affection. It's like he's not sure what you're trying to do.

So you sit down next to him on the couch, hands in your lap while he curiously smiles at you.

"Say, Jungkook..." you wonder, and he perks up, tail rising. "What are.. relationships like, on your planet?" You ask, and he seems to think.

"Well, we..." he starts, speech having returned by 90% until now- though he still has some hiccups here and there. "...live together?" He shrugs. "Share our bed, protect each other when we sleep.. hm.. and when we want a child we engage in intercourse. Is that odd?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Do you.. like, not kiss? Hold hands?" You wonder, and he shrugs, before shaking his head. "Cuddle?"

"We cuddle with our young, yes!" He excitedly explains. "Because it gives a sense of safety and nurturing that they need. That's why I like when we.. cuddle. Because I like the feeling it gives me." He says. "What's kissing? Is that what you did just a moment ago?" He asks, and you shrug, nodding.

"Kind of. We.. kiss on the lips. When we love each other, you know." You say. "And we uh.. also, have intercourse without.. you know, the goal to have a child." You say.

"But.. so, that's normal here?" He asks. "I've.. hm. There's a few on my planet who do that too, me.. included. But it's not common. It's kind of.. 'frowned upon' I think is what they say here." He says.

"Oh, OK." You nod. "Please tell me if I do something that could bother you next time, yeah?" You say kindly, when he leans in, eyes determined.

"Please kiss me." He asks, moving closer. "You say when.. you love someone, you kiss them. I want to do that." He rambles.

"You don't have to. I love you without it too-" you try and explain, but he growls under his breath, tail whopping around in frustration.

"I want to know!" He argues. "I want to try!" He demands, and you lean in at that, pecking his lips-

And he's frozen in place after, eyes wide open, blinking for a few times, as if he's processing what just happened. "So?" You tilt your head, and at that he moves again, moving closer, his hands on your shoulders.

"Again." He breathes out watching you. "I want to.. learn."

"You like it?" You ask, and he whines, nodding impatiently.

"I do, now do it again, I want to kiss!" He demands, making you giggle as you lean in again, kissing him a bit longer-

Until he seems to catch on how it works, hands moving to hold your face in his palms, something set alight inside him when you try and open your mouth, tongue poking against his piercing in something like a test.

But instead it sets him off, as he leans in, pushing you onto your back as he takes over, using what he's learned immediately.

Maybe it's instincts. Yeah, it might be that.

"You make me-" he gasps, struggling to take control of himself again. "-want to do much more than just this.." he hums, leaning back a little to watch you. "I wonder how your kind acts on lust." He mumbles, watching your chest rise and fall, collarbone exposed as he traces it with his fingers. "I want to.. act on lust with you." He wonders, making you shrug.

"I mean, not a bad thing." You say. "We do it to be romantic and, you know, show love. And well, there won't be a child either. I'm not ready to be a mom yet." You joke, though he seems to be more serious about it.

"I understand." He agrees. "I don't have to finish. I just want to.. engage in the way you humans love, with you." He tells you.

"I mean, you can still cum." You giggle. "You know.. inside, too. Doesn't really matter since I've got an IUD." You shrug.

"What's that?" He wonders, and you laugh.

"I'll explain it someday, but its a bit too complicated right now." You laugh.

"So I can.. finish?" He asks, eyes wide open, pupils blown wide, round and almost swallowing all of his irises, as he watches you nod. "...inside?" He asks almost as if it's illegal to say it out loud, and you nod again, laughing. "But not here!" He suddenly says, picking you up to carry you into his room he's been sleeping in.

And though you do only end up cuddling and making out, it's still a pretty damn good time to you. It prepares you for what's might coming at some point-

And you're not sure if you should be intimidated, or excited for it.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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radioappleheadcanons · 2 months

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Part three! (here are parts one and two) This one is a bit more Vox-heavy than the others, but that's because I couldn't think of any other things, they'd have issues over once they worked through the things mentioned in the first two parts. So, picking up where we left off.

A large portion of the city got to see Vox freaking out and yelling at Alastor, demanding to know who his supposed rival is and why they got to make demands of him. One-half of the viewers are convinced that Alastor must have done something because Vox would never be upset that he's not a rival. Now, he clearly just wants to know who it is, so he can hold them against Alastor. The other half read the room a bit better and insisted that no, Vox is actually just upset that he's been replaced. It starts several wars within the Vees fandom, which usually Velvette would be angry about, but honestly, she's having too much fun watching it. If it starts really hurting them, she'll do something but for now, she is just watching the chaos, trying to get a feel for it.

But no matter what side they’re on, they all want to know who the person Alastor was talking to on the radio was, and who, if Vox was to be believed, got to negotiate the terms of his forgiveness with Alastor.

But then Vox just shows up in person, insisting that he's there to help. Literally everyone knows he's not, but they can't do much about it, because he does have a live stream going. With a lot of annoyance, they give him a tour. He tries to bribe several people to tell him who the rival is. No one does. They just roll their eyes.

RadioApple has mixed feelings about it. On one hand, Alastor loves attention. He thrives on it. On the other hand, this really isn't anyone's business and he'd prefer if it had never gotten out. Lucifer is in a similar boat. They talk about it, deciding that they simply aren't going to address this. It's not the greatest idea but they know that feeding into it will just make it worse. So, Vox has doubled the doubt of drones he's got watching the hotel, and now they have people showing up to try and scope them out. Thankfully after kicking a few of them out and wrecking the drones they get the point across.

Meanwhile, after dealing with it a bit, RadioApple decides that it'll be funny to mess with people. So, they have Lucifer use a voice filter and do Al's radio show. They have Alastor, sans fillters, answer the phone when the sins call Lucifer. They enjoy the sheer chaos, and no one puts the pieces together, because the sins aren't talking to sinners, and the sinners can't even get to the other sins. Alastor in particular enjoys watching people fail around like a bunch of headless chickens trying to figure it all out. But they also just never mention it again, which just makes everything worse because they now have no leads whatsoever at all and everyone is just wondering if maybe Alastor was just screwing with them.

Only he definitely seems to be in a better mood and refers to whoever this person is sometimes. Eventually everyone (-vox) accepts that they're not getting answers. and then the world rival changes into a partner, and everything loses their mind because WHAT? Surely you don't mean the same mysterious rival right? No? You do? Okay well, what does that mean?

People are finally desperate enough to try to get information out of the others, which is a mistake because the others make it to mess with them. So, there's a lot of ‘Oh the Roach King? Yes, his Raoch Queen is wonderful’ or ‘Oh Strawberry Pimp’s latest commitment, yeah they hot together’ and the like.

#radioapple #duckiedeer #💚 aka mine #hazbin vox

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taegonia · 2 years

Text

i’m home, sweetheart.

pairing - jungkook x female reader

genre - smut

word count - 3.1k

summary: Despite a full schedule, Jungkook made time to see you in the evening because he needed to teach you lesson about not sending him nudes while he’s working.

warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, degradation, spit play, deep throating, nipple play, slight exhibitionism, pussy spanking, fingering, basically just pure filth :]

“You up? I’m home and need you so bad, please.”

That text alone was enough to make you sprint from your apartment to Jungkook’s, despite it being almost midnight already.

You’ve only been together for a year but lately Jungkook had been very busy with his work schedule. That’s why you couldn’t contain your excitement when you saw the text and why you couldn’t unlock his door with the spare key he gave you quick enough when you’ve reached his apartment.

But when you entered, you were surprised by the silence instead of Jungkook welcoming you.

“Jungkook?” you shouted out, your voice almost echoing in the silence of his apartment. You were about to take off your heels when you heard steps nearing you.

“Leave them on.” Jungkook was standing the other side of the living room, looking devastating in a white dress shirt with the sleeves were rolled up to show off his veiny forearms, and navy blue slacks. His hair, styled to perfection, told you that he just came back from an event.

“What?”, you asked. You dropped your sleepover bag on the floor next to the door.

“I said, leave your heels on.” His voice was lower than usual today, you noticed. He wasn’t smiling or grinning cheekily like he often does. Instead, his face showed nothing but coldness today. But you had known him long enough to know that this meant.

You knew him long enough to know that this was him being in charge tonight, demanding full submission from you. It meant that he needed a stress relief and that you were gonna be the outlet for that.

You gulped and removed your hands from the heels, just like he asked you to.

Jungkook smirked. “Good girl.”

He eyed you for a moment in silence before he continued to speak. “I had a quite busy day, awards shows and interviews, back to back.” He folded his arms infront of his chest, causing his biceps to strain against the fabric. The image before you made you unconsciously lick your lips and you caught his eyes dropping down for a second to catch the movement.

“Yet, all I could think about the whole time was the fucking picture you sent me this morning. What was that about, huh?” He raised one eyebrow. “Were you trying to kill me?”

You smiled sweetly, loving to to rile him up even more. “Ohh, about that. Funny story, I accidentally sent it to you. My bad. My fingers were a bit clumsy today.”

He chuckled suddenly, rolling his eyes. Before he answered, he toyed with his lip piercing. “Jesus fucking christ, Y/N, don’t act coy with me. We both know that’s a fucking lie.”

It was.

It was a lie and he was right that you really just wanted to tease him.

He had been busy with his work schedule for the last three weeks and you barely saw him. You didn’t just miss hanging out with your boyfriend. You also missed your boyfriend’s dick.

So you couldn’t help but send him that picture this morning with the new lacy set you had ordered a few days ago, teasing him what he was missing out on.

“We both know that’s a fucking lie and that you’re just a fucking slut, who wants attention and some dick”, he said, fully knowing that degradation was huge weakness of yours. “Isn’t that so?”

You didn’t answer him, too surprised by his word and demeanor tonight to speak.

“Well, guess what. That little pic of yours made me walk around with a raging boner almost the whole day. Making me jerk myself off backstage in the fucking bathroom and then again back in the hotel.” He exhaled raggedly.

“I zoned out so much during the fucking annoying interviews, did you know that? It was fucking embarrassing and all because I couldn’t stop thinking about your. Fucking. Picture.”

His jaw clenched and you noticed a bulge slowly forming under his slacks.

“Well, not my fault that you get turned on so fast like teenage boy by a picture.” You shrugged, tilting your head with a smirk. You loved riling him up.

His tongue pressed against his cheek. “I will fucking make you pay for that, sweetheart.” He unfolded his hands and put them in his pockets and leaned back against the window behind him.

You couldn’t drag it out any longer so you decided to follow his rules. You wanted to fuck as much as he did and you showed it with your submission to him.

“Take off your clothes.”, he demanded.

With shaky fingers, you followed his order until your clothes were nothing but a pile on the floor, the last piece being a pair of shorts.

Jungkook sucked in an audible breath, savoring the sinful sight infront of him. “So fucking gorgeous.” How he’d missed seeing you like this.

Your blood was rushing in your ears as you stood there and awaited his next words. Even though Jungkook knew every inch of your body, standing there bare infront of him made you feel so vulnerable but yet your heart racing from adrenaline.

“Get on your knees. Then crawl to me.”

Your jaw dropped slightly at his command. Nobody had ever made you crawl to them, it felt one of the most degrading things to you and yet you could feel your slick thighs rubbing against each other as you got on all fours and obeyed him.

Jungkook followed you with dark eyes, taking in the way your breasts were swaying with each step you took or how your soft lips were slightly open, making him want to push his painfully hard boner past them and into your throat.

When you reached his feet, you looked up to him through your lashes.

It was his right hand that emerged first from his pocket and cupped your chin to tilt your head up. Then his left hand followed, opening his pants and pushing it down with his boxers. His red, swollen cock was already leaking with precum as it sprang out right on your eye level.

His right hand pressed on your cheeks, making lips form an “O”, and with his free hand he wrapped his cock and pushed it into your mouth. “Suck.”

You engulfed him deeper into you until his tip hit the back of your throat, and when you swallowed around him he let out a low, guttural curse. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your head bobbed feverishly and your tongue glided along the underside to follow a prominent vein. Since it’s been a while, your throat struggled to relax so you tried to cover the rest of his cock with your hand. But before you could do that, Jungkook stopped you.

“No hands. If you can’t take it all, I’ll help you.” With that, he grabbed the back of your head to push you closer to him while his hips bucked into you. You gagged around his cock and tapped his thigh, gasping for air when he pulled out.

“Oh no, is my baby out of practice?” he cooed, jerking himself off with his free hand while waiting for you to catch your breath. “I’ve been neglecting you too much, haven’t I?”

When you didn’t answer, he tapped his cock against lips. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You choked out, your throat slightly raw of the sudden intrusion.

“Well, then there’s only one thing we can do about that. Open up.” When your lips parted, he pushed himself into you deep enough to hit the back of your throat again. This time, you held your breath and tried to control your gag reflex. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me.”

He repeated the action for a few times, entering and withdrawing fully before entering again. You, as well as he, could feel your throat slowly relaxing with each time. “I fucking missed your mouth.”

This time, instead of withdrawing fully, he started to shallowly thrust and sped up gradually.

When he tried to push a bit deeper, hitting the back of your throat, you could feel your gag reflex coming up but you successfully suppressed it.

“Just like that, you can take it, baby. Just breathe.” His hips started to move faster as he used your mouth to get himself off. He was so lost in bliss that he threw back his head, revealing the delicious, veiny column of his neck.

The hand on the back of your head pushed you closer to his hips again and this time your throat was loose enough that he entered your oesophagus. He let out a loud groan. “Fuck me, your throat feels so fucking tight.”

Jungkook continued to carefully thrust and you could feel him going deeper down your throat, as your eyes water from the stimulation. He looked down at you, cupping your face with his free hand.

“You look so beautiful like this. Kneeling infront of me, naked. Choking on my cock.”

Suddenly, he pulled himself out and yanked you to your feet. When you were eye to eye, he hastily pressed a rough kiss on your lips, his tongue demanding entrance that you granted.

His teeth bit on your lower lip hard enough for you to flinch and pulled on it before he released it again.

“Come here.” Jungkook yanked on your arm again and positioned you infront of the tall window. The city was lit up by street lamps, tail lights from cars passings by and lights coming from windows of other buildings. “On your knees.”

He pushed you down by your shoulders and your knees protested from the rough impact, but before you could complain, he said: “Open your mouth.”

When you’ve obeyed, he didn’t waste a second to spit into your mouth. Twice.

“Keep it open.” Jungkook grabbed his cock again and pushed it into your mouth, thrusting slowly as he covered himself in his saliva. “I’m gonna fuck your throat until you fucking cry.”

You could only manage a single nod before he picked up the pace and went deeper past your gag reflex. Like a madman, he bucked his hips, fucking into your throat, and barely gave you anytime to catch your breath. You could feel a stream of tears sliding down your cheek but Jungkook gently wiped it away.

“Look at you. Getting face fucked infront of the whole city.” You could tell by his breathlessness that he wouldn’t last much longer. “Anyone who looks up could see you right now, you know that? They could see what a slut you are for me. On your knees like this. Letting me use your throat to get myself off like a fucking whore.”

You whimpered and let out a moan to show the effect his words had on you. The vibrations of your moan traveled straight to the tip of his cock, causing him to groan out. “Fucking hell, Y/N. I’m gonna come.”

You could tell that he was by the uncontrolled jerks of his hips. And you’ve already expected him to come inside your throat, but instead he pulled his cock out of your mouth again. You gasped for air, feeling your sore throat finally relaxing again before shooting him a questioning look.

Jungkook wrapped a hand around his cock but his movements were painfully slow. He was edging himself.

“Give me your hands.”

“Wha-“

“Your hands, Y/N. Or have I already fucked your brains out?” His harsh tone made your walls clench.

You did what he said, lifting your arms up and offering your palms to him, in which he spit a few times.

“Rub them on your tits.”

Your pussy throbbed at that command and you stared up at him as you cover both your breasts with his saliva, kneading them roughly and pinching on your own nipples until you had to suppress a moan. Meanwhile, Jungkook was getting himself off as he watched you intently, his eyes zoned into your wet and hard nipples.

“You look so fucking hot right now. You like that, huh? Dirtying yourself with my spit like that?” You nodded and pinched your nipples again as a proof.

“I love covering myself with your spit, Kook. My body is yours.”

At those words, Jungkook’s hand around his cock sped up. “Damn fucking right. It’s mine and mine to do with whatever I want to.”

One of your hand left your breast and instead, traveled down to your clit. Your throbbing core needed friction so badly, it hasn’t been touched since you arrived here and you were sure you were gonna explode if you didn’t touch it soon.

But before you could reach it, Jungkook stopped you with a growl. “Keep your fucking hands where they are.”

You bit back a protest and stared up at him with defiance but his dark eyes told you not to mess with him tonight if you wanted to walk tomorrow. So you had no choice but to listen and return your hand to your breast.

“Good girl. Don’t worry, you know I will take good care of that tight pussy of yours.” Jungkook smirked. With his free hand, he moved yours away until your chest was bared to him.

A surprised yelp escaped your lips when he delivered a sharp slap to each side, repeating it twice until both were red and warm from his assault.

“Your tits are so fucking perfect, baby. Look at your nipples,” he tweaked the right one roughly, “They love getting pinched like this, don’t they?”

You let out a moan and nodded weakly. “Y-Yes, they do.”

When he removed his hand, you continued to knead your breasts, pressing them together, tweaking your nipples to overstimulation just like Jungkook liked it. Your beautiful moans resonated in the apartment and the sight of you like this pushed Jungkook closer to his high.

“Fuck fuck fuck–“ He stuttered. His hand movements were getting faster and sloppier. ”I-I’m gonna fucking come. Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You obeyed instantly and ignored the upcoming gag as Jungkook pushed deep into your mouth and shot his cum straight down your throat.

You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he rode as his orgasm with a guttural groan.

His thumb was gently rubbing your cheek as he looked down to you. “You were so fucking good for me, Y/N.”

He pulled his softening cock out of you and while you were catching your breath, he unbuttoned his shirt, before discarding it to the side together with his pants. His torso was covered in a light sheen of sweat, making his abs glisten in the dim light of the apartment.

Even if he looked devastating every outfit his stylists put on him, nothing could beat the sight of him naked.

“Come here.” He leaned down to scooped you up and threw you on his shoulder like a rag doll.

“Jungkook! Let me down,” you protested with a light giggle that was interrupted a yelp when his palm landed on your ass with a smack.

Only then did he placed you down onto the kitchen island, the cold marble greeting your back.

He roughly yanked your thighs open, taking the sight of your drenched folds and the way your entrance was clenching around nothing. “My girl is always so fucking wet for me.”

Before you register what happened, he lowered his head and gave your clit a long, bold lick, followed by a sharp smack against your pussy.

You could help but let out a yelp, a mixture of pain and overstimulation coursing through your body. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

His thumb toyed with your swollen clit, making your toes curl from the blissful sensations before he entered two fingers into you.

With his free hand, he wrapped it around your throat and made you look at him. And as he spoke, he continued to graze against the sweet spot in you that your legs quiver.

“It’s time we take care of this sweet pussy, right? You’re gonna be a good girl and take whatever I give you, as a punishment for that damn picture. And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, all you can say will be my name. Do we have a deal, sweetheart?”

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #smut #bts smut

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adasknife · 7 months

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another ada x reader and leon x reader that i will probably write if i'm not lazy. but anyways, ada and reader had been working as mercenaries for the longest time. reader is tired and wants to leave while ada sees as an... obligation. reader is completely honest with their thoughts of this line of work while ada isn't. so, during raccoon city- the job was simple enough but not to survive. ada needed a double pair of hands.

so, that's when leon sees two people claiming to be fbi. reader is sympathizing towards leon because them can push him away like that. while ada is a bit more colder. so, when leon takes the gun wound for ada, they both help him and ada tells them that they need to finish the mission. but reader shakes their head. leon is innocent in this.

the couple's first argument comes in but ends as ada goes to get annette. reader stays with leon. when leon wakes up, reader immediately goes to get their girlfriend. that's when leon and reader begin to work together. when they find ada down there, reader quickly panicked- they didn't have the hacking machine like ada so... more working with leon. during this time, reader explains to him how to deal with the creatures of the sewers.

when they save ada, reader now checks on their girl and helps ada. when they go to the labs, reader is determined to now finish this mission. they have a plan to run away with ada but ada doesn't want reader to get hurt so she tells leon to go. they are temporarily alone and reader kisses ada, "he can handle himself." ada whispered, "he can't." reader whispered back. "he is stupid. he believed we were fbi agents."

ada sighed softly, "go help him then." reader kissed ada again, "love you."

and there goes reader helping leon again.

then, that's when shit goes bad. annette tells leon that ada and reader are mercenary. reader sighed, it was going to hard to explain this.

blah, blah, ada comes in demanding the virus and expected reader to help her. but reader shook their head. "ada, we can stop." but no ada says no. ada is dangling now and reader is crying not wanting to lose their girlfriend. once she fell, reader is alone. then, all they has is a stranger she just met. they attempt to escape and they made it. reader rested their head on leon's shoulder.

reader didn't expect to get caught by the government so quickly. "if you want to live, join us."

and they did. reader trained with leon and explained their backstory and now leon and reader slowly turned into friends. those six years pass and they turned into best friends who know how to fight together. they have their first mission together in spain, when they find ashley reader says that will clean up the mess so it'll be safer for ashley. that's when reader could tell someone was looking at them. ada isn't jealous of leon but she does hate him.

if leon wasn't there, ada and reader would've been still together. and leon is not making easy as he kept lowkey flirting with reader.

ada is trying to get their partner back by helping leon. but things are different now. reader is angry, "why didn't you tell me you are alive?" ada rolled her eyes. during spain, ada is disliking more and more the way leon and reader are with each other.

"we could've have a good life together, [ada's real name]. why didn't you want it?"

when the helicopter comes, ada looked at reader, "reader?"

reader shakes their head. now, it's their obligation to stay with the government or who knows what will happen. they would've betrayed both the mercenary life and the government life- ada looks down. reader was unaware that ada was also forced to be a mercenary and reader was... reader was all ada had.

during the years, ada and leon are petty towards each other if they have mission when they have to talk together. ada still hates leon. she hates him so much. and she hates how reader now holds his hand when they are nervous. ada can't do nothing as they slowly fall in love with each other. why?

maybe it's the guilt- reader gave them an option twelve years ago and ada didn't accept it. ada could've been an agent with them... they could have been safe.

#resident evil #ada wong #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong x reader #i was just bored #bored enough to write this but not the story #:p

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moni-logues · 9 months

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Kintsugi 5

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 7.2k

Content: depression, self-harm (cutting)

A/N: first and foremost, please read the warnings; there's literally only two and one is a pretty significant one so plleeeeasssseeee take heed!!!!!! And let me know if there's anything else I should be tagging for it. Feels too flip for me to ramble in my usual way here given the content of this chapter, so just to say be safe, and I hope you like it! Thank you to my betas @amethystwritesbts @quarter-life-crisis2 @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

Chapter Five - The other shoe

The sun was shining and birds were singing and you wished you were a character in a musical so you could burst into (tuneless) song and run across a field in a circle skirt. You hadn’t felt this good for a long, long time.

“Looks like someone’s in a good mood,” was Taehyung’s greeting to you as you plopped down in your chair next to him. “You get laid or something?”

You had, in fact, got laid last night. It had been even more anxiety-inducing than you had thought it would be, particularly given that Sungbin was a verified Greek god of a man and, well, your body had been through a little since the last time you were fully naked in front of someone new. You had put your body through a lot. The body keeps the score and it also shows the scars. You did not tend to keep them on display and you had hesitated and become awkward and flustered when you remembered them, when you realised he was going to see them, going to see what you had done to yourself.

He didn’t mention them. He didn’t make it weird. He didn’t avoid them nor did he bring extra attention to them. He acted as if they weren’t there at all. Then he made you come until you were seeing stars.

“That good, huh?”

It had been that good. Or maybe it had just been a long time. Either way.

“I think I’m going to fall in love with him, for real,” you said, all dreamy and moon-eyed, staring at your computer screen and seeing nothing but love hearts.

“Girly...” Taehyung’s voice had a slight warning note but you let it wash over you.

“I know, I know, but seriously. I feel happy, Teddy. Legitimately happy. I feel like I can see a future unfolding, a future I might actually want to live in.”

“With Sungbin?”

You shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

He didn’t answer, not really. You could feel his reluctance; you could almost hear all the questions he wanted to ask. You let him think them. You weren’t going to let anyone burst this bubble.

“What are we doing this weekend, chick?”

You looked up from your desk and took the coffee cup in Taehyung’s outstretched hand. He sat down next to you.

“What do you mean ‘what are we doing this weekend’?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean “what are we doing this weekend”’?”

“What do you mean-”

“No, I’m serious. We always do something, but I haven’t seen you for weeks now.”

“Teddy, we are together every day. You’re seeing me right now!”

“That’s not the same and you know it! You’re reserving all your time for Sungbin these days.”

“That’s not true.”

Not entirely. He wasn’t being fair. It was true that you had seen Taehyung a little less over the past month or so but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him at all. You had someone else in your life now; you would’ve thought Taehyung would have been a little relieved to get some time back, to be honest.

“Well, what about you?” you asked. “You’re spending all your time with the barista.”

“Hyunjin. And I’m really not. I still have plenty of time for my other friends. For you.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not making time for you?”

He shrugged.

“I know you’re really into Sungbin right now and things are going well and that’s great. I’m genuinely fucking stoked for you and I hope that it’s everything you want it to be, but I feel a little tossed aside, yeah. Especially because I’m the one who’ll have to pick up any pieces if it goes south.”

That hurt. Coming from Taehyung, that really hurt.

“Why do you think it’ll go south?”

“I’m not saying that it will but you’re honeymooning hard right now and it kind of feels like you’re putting a lot of eggs into one basket. You’re ditching me to spend all your time with a guy you’ve know-”

“I’m not ditching you!”

“I’m just saying you’re letting yourself be taken over by this. You haven’t seen me outside of work for ages. I know you didn’t go to therapy last wee-”

“How do you know that?”

“I know when your appointments are and you were posting on Instagram with a cocktail in your hand at the time.”

“What makes you think I didn’t rearrange the session?”

“Did you?”

No, you didn’t. You skipped that one. Just one. That would hardly hurt. And you were feeling so happy right now, the need for therapy had receded a little, dipping past the horizon, not entirely out of sight, but almost out of mind.

“That is exactly what I’m saying-”

“No, what exactly are you saying? Is this about wanting to see me more or is it about telling me that me and Sungbin are going to crash and burn?”

You could feel tears burn in your eyes and you desperately wanted not to cry. You always cried. All the time. It was exhausting and embarrassing and you were at work, right now – you didn’t have time for this.

Taehyung’s eyes softened and this made your tears well even more.

“I’m saying that I miss you and I’m worried. You are acting like he’s fixed you, like the only problem in your life was that you were single and now you’re not so everything must be perfect. But that’s not how things work and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not stupid,” you spat, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t think he’s fixed me. I think he likes me. And I like him. And we are together-”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Have you had that conversation? Are you together?”

“Well-… What about you and Hyunjin? Have you had that conversation?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “We’re keeping it casual for now.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. You hadn’t talked to Sungbin about it because you didn’t think you had to. You thought you were on the same page. Isn’t that what dating was? You dated and then, if you kept dating, you were in a relationship. It was automatic, by default. Why would you date someone if you didn’t want to keep doing it? If you didn’t imagine a relationship with the person, what was the point? ��

You managed to blink your tears away but an uneasiness had settled in your stomach. What if you’d got it all wrong? Did Sungbin want to keep it casual? You didn’t. It was already too late for that. You were a goner.

Maybe Taehyung was right.

Was he?

You sniffed.

“Well maybe Sungbin and I aren’t.”

“Does he know that?”

Fresh tears. Anxiety. Your old friend insecurity crawling up your throat again. You should have known that this was coming, that there was a line you needed to acknowledge and either cross together or not at all. It hadn’t been like this with San because you had known each other so well before you got together, it really had been a foregone conclusion. This time, though... And there was so much Sungbin didn’t know about you, so much you knew you would have to share at some point and didn’t want to. The thought of revealing your ugliest self to him – to him, a flawless specimen of a man, inside and out, his parents’ pride, and the person you thought most about – was nauseating.

You stood and walked off to the printers, pausing there only long enough for you to realise there was nothing you could pretend to print. Then you carried on to the kitchen, making yourself another coffee, even as the one Taehyung brought you was sitting, steaming, on your desk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, sitting across from Sungbin at an outside table, running your finger up the wet glass of your iced latte. “What are you doing for Halloween?”

He looked a little taken aback.

“Halloween? In October?”

“Yeah!”

You held your palm tight against your glass, the discomfort of the cold playing distraction. You were trying to be casual about this. It was normal. Of course you’d make plans. Why wouldn’t you? You fought off the voice in the back of your head saying that you wouldn’t if you were just ‘keeping things casual’. That was why you had to ask.

“I... have no idea yet. It’s only August.”

“That is true, but I’ve been thinking. Teddy always has this massive party for Halloween and does costumes and everything and I would like, this year, to outdo him.”

The party thing was true. Taehyung did throw one every year. And he did always have a good costume... You also always had a good costume, because he planned and bought it for you, but Sungbin didn’t need to know that part.

“Wow, if he’s planning it this early, it must be big.”

“Oh, no, he’s not yet, but I want to get a head start. Like I said, this year I think we can beat him at his costume game.”

“We?”

“Yeah, there are so many good couple costumes out there; it’ll make more of an impact if we do it together, right? Two is more than one etc.”

“Right, yeah, uh... Sure.”

“We don’t have to decide right now, but get your thinking cap on. I am going to destroy Teddy this year and you’re going to do it with me!”

He chuckled a little and you thought this was good. Halloween was, as he suggested, months away, but he hadn’t said no. That counted for something. You ploughed on.

“Also, what do you think to a double date?”

“Oh. Um, who with?”

“Teddy and Hyunjin. They actually got together the night we met! Might be fun. Also, to be honest, I really want Teddy to meet you. It’s been long enough, haha; you need his seal of approval!”

“A test?”

“Yep. He’s my bestie so he has to approve.”

“Right. Yeah... Ok. You and he are really close, then?”

“Yep. And, besides, it gets to a point where someone’s seen you have enough breakdowns that you have to keep them close: he knows too much!”

There was a pause and you could see Sungbin considering his words. You fought the urge to move it on, to brush over it, to drop a hundred words a second to blow past it. But you also just had to... check, to let him know, to try to drip-feed him the information you, truthfully, didn’t want him to have but knew that he had to have, if this was ever going to be serious. It made you anxious, slowly revealing your brokenness to him, pushing him closer and closer to the threshold at which he might say ‘stop, that’s enough; I don’t want you anymore’. He hadn’t yet, but you’d barely begun.

“Breakdowns, huh?”

“Yep. Although, actually, while it was Teddy who held me together after the break-up, it was my ex who really did the heavy lifting before that.”

Sungbin nodded thoughtfully and you didn’t know if you imagined his eyes flicking down to your thighs or not. Probably imagined. But it wasn’t like the two didn’t go hand in hand.

“Sounds rough.”

“It was. Both times, haha.”

He nodded again.

That was enough, you thought. That had to be enough disclosure for now. You could feel it pressing on you, like the oppressive summer humidity; you felt stifled by your exposure, almost a little giddy with the force of your discomfort. If this is what it was like, revealing your darkness to someone, you crossed all your fingers, hoped, and prayed that this thing with Sungbin would last so that you would never have to do it again.

You went home with him that night and there was a background buzz of something in your head, this kind of vertigo-swirling of standing too close to the edge of a cliff, an unsteadiness of foot that Sungbin was able to kiss away but which came back two-fold when you were lying naked in his bed. You tried to look at yourself, discreetly, objectively; what did you look like to him? Was he looking at you differently now, tonight, armed with new knowledge? What did he really know? What had he taken from the things you had said? You didn’t want to ask him, didn’t want to talk about it more, didn’t want to have to explain and elucidate and make explicit things that you hoped he would infer.

He didn’t seem different, then, didn’t turn off the light or kiss you goodnight any differently from the way he had before. Maybe it was fine. Maybe your brokenness wasn’t fatal. Or so you could dream.

“Last day, baby!” you cried when Yoongi put his bag on the counter at your very last baking session.

“So it is,” he replied, cool as ever.

You shoved him.

“Be excited! We made it! We’re bakers!”

He rolled his eyes and grinned.

“A rather generous term for yourself, isn’t it?”

You shoved him again.

“How dare you? Do I need to remind you of last week’s triumph? Or should I say my triumph and your tragedy?”

You weren’t being entirely fair. Yoongi’s buns had failed because he had taken on the risk of your illicit ingredient, allowing you to follow the recipe correctly. It was gallant, really. He even said that his buns were alright, not that bad, kind of ok which you knew without having to try them was untrue.

“Should I remind you who is responsible for my tragedy?”

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You grinned at each other and started unpacking your bags. It felt easy between the two of you now. Long gone was your anxiety that used to accompany Thursday evenings, that gnawing embarrassment and glowing shame that you used to feel in Yoongi’s proximity, sure that you were the worst person in the world and that he wanted to get away from you, desperate as you were for his friendship and approbation. You didn’t have to be desperate anymore, because you had it. You were friends. In the spirit of said friendship, you had agreed to celebrate your last baking class tomorrow, so you could get as drunk as you liked without having to suffer the consequences in the office.

“Generous term,” you scoffed, looking at your layered cake at the end of the session, assembled and decorated and still standing. “How very dare you. Look at what I’ve made! I’m a genius!”

Yoongi laughed quietly and swiped a finger through the buttercream frosting on top before you could swat his hand away. He put it to his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Not bad!”

You swiped a finger through the frosting on top of his cake.

“Yours tastes like shit.”

“Well, now you’re just being mean and I won’t let you have a slice.”

“Fine.” You turned your back on him to put some things in your bag and then turned back. “I didn’t want to eat your shit cake, anyway!”

“You had better be careful or I’ll bring this as dessert for tomorrow.”

You gasped.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Yoongi turned to face you head-on, a smirk on his lips, mischief in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t I?”

You mirrored his expression and crossed your arms.

“I won’t let you in my apartment.”

“Not even for the booze?”

You faltered. You didn’t buy the expensive shit that he did. You still fully believed that expensive alcohol didn’t give you such bad hangovers. You didn’t want to lose this spat, didn’t want to come out of the bit, but also didn’t want to say no to booze.

“You can leave the booze on my doorstep and go.”

Yoongi broke first and laughed loud, tipping his head back.

“You’re spoilt,” he said.

You sniffed haughtily.

“I deserve nice things.”

Then he gave you that smile that he did sometimes, warm and soft, that made you feel like a broken open caramel truffle, oozing and sweet and sticky, like the two of you were stuck together, sugary fingerprints on your skin and a brown sugar taste on your lips. It was like a secret smile, for special occasions; you wondered who else got to see it.

“Yeah, you do,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m bringing this cake to dinner tomorrow!”

You groaned and pretended to fall, dead, to the floor. Yoongi laughed again.

“I mean it.” He packed the last of his things in his bag. “I’m going to bring this and you’re going to eat it and like it.”

“Over my dead body.”

“If I recall correctly, I do, in fact, owe you a murder, so that can certainly be arranged.”

You both laughed this time and you could think of much worse ways to go, much worse last things to see before you died. Yoongi picked up his stuff and his cake and turned to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“With bells on!” you called after him.

You had taken the Friday afternoon off, just to make sure you had enough time to shop and prepare and, gulp, cook dinner for Yoongi who you were expecting that evening. It was a celebration of your finishing the class but it was also a sign of intention, a new set-up for this kindling friendship that didn’t have anywhere else to meet. You’d take turns: one of you would cook and one would bring dessert and you’d alternate fortnightly. You weren’t sure whether you’d got the short straw to be tasked with dinner first or if you’d rather it were this way. You got the feeling Yoongi was a good cook and you didn’t want to have to follow that, but it felt like a lot of pressure being the first to host. You felt a little embarrassed of your shoebox apartment and cheap things and you knew Yoongi would never care—you knew he would understand completely—but it made you feel a little small, that this was all you had to offer.

Never mind, you said to yourself. He didn’t care and neither would you. It wasn't about the venue; it wasn’t even really about the food. It was about the company. It was about making a space and a time for you and Yoongi to hang out. It was about making a commitment to taking your friendship outside of its bounds and cultivating it. That was what mattered and that was all you needed to focus on.

You were scrolling on your phone, looking for recipes when a message from Sungbin came in.

Sungbin: hey I’m wfh today. I'm about to have lunch can you come over?

Obviously, the answer was yes. You did your best to make yourself look presentable in a rush and hot-footed it across the river to him.

“I ordered food, hope that’s ok,” Sungbin said as he gestured to the dining table where two bags of lunch had been placed.

“Sure! I’ll eat whatever.”

It felt a little strained, like the world had twisted itself into an uncomfortable position, but you put it down to the fact that you had never been to his apartment during the day before. He was also working; maybe he hadn’t shrugged off his focus yet. His job was still new and still stressful and this lunch was interrupting it. He was quiet as he sat down and you felt stifled. He ate a forkful and another. Then he put his fork down.

“Thanks for coming all this way. I really wanted to speak to you but work is really hectic so I can’t get away.”

“Yeah, no worries! I have this afternoon off anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

“Oh right. Good. Um.”

You thought to yourself that you were getting good at this: letting silence reign. Maybe it was all the time you’d spent with Yoongi; maybe it was all the time you’d spent in therapy. Maybe it was a sign that you weren’t letting your anxiety run your mouth anymore – even if you really, really wanted it to.

“I thought we should talk,” is how he began.

“About what?” Your guts twisted as you asked.

“I know you were talking the other day about all sorts of plans and things and I just wanted to be clear about... where we are. What we are.”

“Oh, right.” Your voice was airy and thin, even your lungs being squeezed by this cold-creeping fear working through your body.

“I really enjoy spending time with you and I’d like to continue that but, ah, I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t want... a relationship, y’know? I just moved here and I’m still finding my feet and getting to know everyone and everything and I don’t want to, uh, settle into anything? And I get the feeling that... you do. I didn’t want, um, wires to be crossed or uh, I didn’t want things to get complicated or- I just thought we should talk before it went on any longer. I wanted to just make myself clear. I would like to keep seeing you but I think you want... more than I do. If I’m wrong, just tell me, sorry if I’ve assumed but I, uh, just, get the feeling...”

“Right.”

Your eyes were already blurry with tears. Here it was. The other shoe dropping. Taehyung was right. Sungbin didn’t want you. Not really. He knew who you were and he didn’t want you. You tried to tiptoe into it; you tried to slowly heat the water in the pan but you’d overcooked it. The frog was jumping out. You wanted more. Too much. More than he wanted. He didn’t want you. He didn’t want you that much. He didn’t want your broken parts. He didn’t want your ugliness. He saw your scars and he heard of your breakdowns and he knew that was ‘more’, too much. He didn’t want to carry you. He would have to carry you if you went on for too much longer. You had to be carried because that’s who you were: you weren’t enough, not even enough to lift yourself up. All your good parts, the shiny parts, the parts you thought you had in you somewhere... It wasn’t enough.

“It’s not-” Sungbin was trying to start again, to explain, to let you down even more gently. “I like you; I think you’re a cool person and we have fun. I just can’t commit to more than that. I don’t want to lead you on or pretend this is going somewhere it’s not. Y’know, I really appreciate you making all these plans and things but that’s just- it's really, well, it’s a bit too much for me right now. Do you know what I mean?”

You nodded and hummed and bit your lip to stop it wobbling. Your face was burning with embarrassment: that you were being dumped, that you were crying about it when this hadn’t even been real to start with. It had never been what you thought it was. It was just fun. You had pictured parties and holidays and walking off into the sunset but that was just you. It had never been that for Sungbin.

He didn’t want you. Like a woodpecker pecking at your skull, it hit you again and again: he didn’t want you. He didn’t want you. You tried to show yourself to him and then he didn’t want you. You took him to your water’s edge and he decided not to swim. You should have seen this coming. You should have heeded Taehyung’s warnings. You should have had this conversation before now.

You could feel yourself spiralling, crumbling, sitting at his table with an uneaten salad bowl in front of you. You couldn’t speak because you didn’t know what to say. ‘Please just love me’? ‘Can’t you change your mind’? ‘What if I were different’? ‘I can change’? Would anything make a difference? You couldn’t be different. Not really. It hit you at that moment: you would always be you. All of these things that you had been doing to try to change, to be better, to grow, to stop being such a mess all of the time. They wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t change who you were. What you were. You’d always just be... this.

“Yeah, I understand,” you whispered, your voice trapped in your strangled throat. “I have to go.”

You stood and whirled around, heading immediately for the door, shoving your feet in your shoes any which way, as long as they stayed on long enough for you to escape.

“No, wait, hold on!” Sungbin called, following after you. “Don’t just go, please. I want to talk- I don’-”

But you were opening the door and running down the corridor and he was calling, but not running, after you.

You wanted to break down, just fall to the floor in a heap and stay there until the ground ate you up but you had to get out of his building. The lift was stifling, a too small metal box with mirrored walls that showed you your red eyes and running nose and face contorted with the effort of trying not to cry, with the fact that you were crying anyway.

You had never felt so stupid. Humiliated. You wanted to scrape your skin from your body with the shame of it. Of course he didn’t want a relationship with you. A man who already loved you and loved you for years didn’t want a relationship with you anymore; why would Sungbin, with the world at his feet, settle for you?

You were crying on the subway again. You had sworn you wouldn’t do that. Not after the break-up. Not once you’d finally stopped crying over San. You weren’t going to be that person, that’s what you’d said. No one took any notice; no one said anything; everyone averted their eyes, but you could still feel their attention, were still so aware of the way they were not noticing you. You were a weirdo, a pathetic woman crying on the subway in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

When you got off the train, you considered throwing yourself on the tracks. You would never have done it. Too many people around. A traumatised driver. Delayed and cancelled trains. Compounding your worthlessness by ruining other people’s days? You hadn’t sunk that low, not yet.

You traipsed home, your feet feeling lead-heavy, your legs feeling weak and, as soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, you dropped to the floor. You gasped in huge, choking sobs; you couldn’t see for your tears and could barely breathe. Your chest felt as though it were caving in on you, squeezing the life out of you. You dragged your nails across your skin to try to feel something else, something different, some other kind of pain and then a thought came to you, sharper than it had been for months, clear before where it had been vague. A directive, not just a thought anymore.

There was a reason you didn’t keep razors in the house but your nails certainly weren’t cutting it. Then you remembered the knives Yoongi had bought you, how he had impressed upon you that they were sharp, that they were good quality and barely used so they should still, now, be sharp. You dragged your body to the kitchen counter and ripped open a drawer. You picked one at random – it didn’t matter which – and sat back down. You shuffled to pull off your cycle shorts and there they were, your mosaic thighs, criss-crosses of light, thin lines and thicker scar tissue. You had always taken a weird pride in the neatness of it. You had always cut carefully and deliberately, as though you were creating something other than scars, other than a mess, other than something you had to hide from everyone. You went over them again, re-cutting all the old lines, each sharp slice of pain a relief, grounding, pulling you back from somewhere.

The relief made you feel hysterical, silly even, the strange, old euphoria of hurting yourself, of being in control of that hurt rushing through you and making you dizzy. It was like coming home. Your breathing came more smoothly and your heart slowed and your tears began to dry and you couldn’t stop, not yet. You had to see how far you could go. A little more. You needed just a little more. You had plenty of real estate; you could make more. You could expand the design, your bloody, little, monochromatic Mondrian.

You felt empty when you stopped. Drained. Exhausted. Sick to your stomach. You let yourself fall sideways, lying on your dirty kitchen floor. You had nothing left in you. You lay there, unmoving, letting your brain tell you whatever it wanted. You didn’t care anymore. About anything. You had nothing. You had nothing to give and no one to give it to anyway. If you blipped out of existence, well, that would be the best-case scenario. Like Buffy’s key in reverse. Blink, and you had never existed at all. That would have been nice.

It would still be nice. If you could just disappear off the face of the earth. You couldn’t bear to look towards the future – a future you didn’t want, that you knew wouldn’t be better than this. The thought of it made your soul shrivel, made you dig your nails into your reddened thighs, made you cringe and wince. When would it be over? Why couldn’t it be now?

You distantly heard your intercom ring but it felt as if it were coming from another world. You were gone. You were out of this world. No one missed you. Your apartment was a glitch, a tiny black hole where no one could go and no one wanted to go. It rang for what could have been a short time or a long time—you'd lost all sense of it. Then you heard knocking at your door.

Then more knocking.

Then something akin to thumping.

“Hey,” Yoongi’s voice rang cleanly through the wood and metal. “Are you in?”

Your phone started buzzing noisily on your side of the door, rattling against the floor bar in the entryway. Then there was silence for a while. You assumed he had gone away.

Your door beeped and swung open and there were footsteps, the quiet flomp of shoes hitting the floor, the rustle of a carrier bag. You remembered you had given him your codes in the interest of fairness -- you did have his, after all. You felt so detached from everything that you didn’t know how you felt about that. Yoongi quietly called out for you. You didn’t respond. Didn’t even feel like you could.

Your apartment was small enough that he could survey the entire space in a few small steps, so he would barely have to enter before he would see you. You knew the moment he did; you felt the way the air was sucked out of the room for a second. You felt him freeze, could hear the seconds tick by on the clock on the wall. Then he came into your line of sight, kneeling in front of you, saying your name.

“Fuck, don’t be dead,” he whispered.

He held his hand underneath your nose and felt you breathing. You felt the weight of the sigh that left him.

“Shit, fuck.”

He bent over, turning his head to try to catch your eyes; you could see him but you weren’t looking at him. You weren’t looking at anything. He was a blurry approximation of a man in front of you. He called your name for a third time.

“You, uh, are you alright? ... fuck, fucking stupid. No, obviously not. Fuck. Ok. Uh. I-. Can I... What can I do?”

You couldn’t give him an answer. It was as if all speech and movement had been taken from you. You really had nothing left. You couldn’t give him anything. You felt like a husk and that was all you wanted to be.

“Shit, what should I do? I.. I do-. Well. Ok. Can you sit up?”

You couldn’t even shake your head. You were aware of him continuing to mutter to himself. He stood up and disappeared for a minute or two; you heard the open and shut of cupboards, the rifling through of your jars and bottles and boxes. He returned with a light load.

“I have to-” he started. “I’m going to. You.. I have to- I'm going to touch you, ok? I have to lift you up?”

He hesitated as he came closer but was firm when he gripped your arms and lifted your body off the floor, pulled you sitting upright. You tipped your head back against the cupboard and a deep sigh pushed air from your lungs.

“I still have to- this might hurt. You don’t have much stuff. I, uh, yeah, ok. I have to clean this.”

You closed your eyes when he pressed a soaked cotton pad to your thigh. The burning sting of antiseptic made you feel a little bit alive but it was so short-lived.

He was muttering again.

“Fucking hell. I can’t. You don’t have anything useful. How am I-. What... This is... Fuck, this is going to need stitches. Is it?”

You’d almost never heard him talk so much, not like this, not to himself, not with all these half-finished, curtailed sentences, this stopping and starting. Yoongi was straight-forward, even when he was feeling chatty. This Yoongi was going around in circles.

When your eyes finally focused on him, he looked pale, paler than usual. A little grey possibly. His mouth was pulled in a taut, grim line when he wasn’t mumbling himself through the task.

“Still fucking bleeding? Shit, did I make it bleed again? I can’t- I...”

He sat back a little and looked at you; his eyes were sharp and focused and you couldn’t look at them. Yoongi took your chin in his hand, less gently than you might have expected, and he held you there until you looked at him.

“How can you not have a fucking first-aid kit? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” The anger in his voice registered only dimly. “There’s a pharmacy on the corner and I’m going to go there.” He paused and his eyes were steely and his jaw tight as he worked his brain around how to say what he needed to. “I’m going to go and I’m going to come back and if I get back here and you’re dead, I am going to kill you, ok? I know I promised to kill you but I was fucking joking and you’re not allowed to be dead. Is that clear?”

His face softened as he waited for an answer. You managed to nod your head. He held you a few more seconds before he stood and walked out.

It could have been only seconds or it could have been hours until he returned—you neither knew nor cared—but he did return and he dropped a plastic bag on the floor beside you. He tipped it upside down and dumped its contents. He wasn’t looking at you now, not at your face, just at your legs, as he cleaned and tended and muttered to himself some more. He unwrapped bandages and folded over gauze and you let him lift your legs and place them back down. You let him do whatever he needed to, wanted to. It didn’t matter.

When he was finished, he sat back and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and you saw his eyes alight on something to your left. You couldn’t read the expression that came over his face. Something like horror, something like disgust, something like despair. He leaned forward onto his hands and grabbed the offending object; he threw it into the sink with a metallic clatter.

He sat opposite you for some time. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You felt hollow. You could hear it, the wind howling through your empty spaces. You felt like you were all empty space. Just an echo of nothingness trapped in skin. Every part of you hurt, as if the pain were radiating out from your heart, filling the void inside you with a sharp, persistent ache. You couldn’t talk. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, to have to hear yourself, hear your existence continuing in the world. It hurt. As long as you were silent, you could fade away, you told yourself. Just disappear. Yoongi would go and you would be alone and you could just disappear.

“Do you want to eat?” he asked. “You should eat.”

The thought evidently set him on a path because he stood and opened your fridge, opened your cupboards, looking for food. He stepped over you and then stopped, foot in mid-air. He turned back to you.

“If I’m going to cook, you’re in the way. Can you move?”

You blinked. You sighed. You looked down. Then you felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you to your feet. It was an awkward drag and shuffle to the sofa, your feet tripping over themselves, Yoongi lifting but not really carrying you.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said on a heavy exhale as you dropped like a stone onto the sofa. “I’m going to cook now.”

He held a bowl out in front of you and, when you didn’t take it, he picked up your hands and placed them against the ceramic, lowering it all into your lap. Then he sat next to you.

“Eat.”

You looked at the food, steaming hot; it smelt nice. You wondered what on earth it was and how he could have found the right ingredients in your house. You were still not exactly domesticated, despite your efforts. Yoongi kicked your foot.

“I mean it. Eat.”

You sighed and continued staring into the bowl. Eating would mean conceding to living, to staying alive. You felt defeated but you also wanted to avoid this defeat. Everything about you felt wrong. Hideous. Like things were crawling beneath your skin. You didn’t want to continue that existence. You didn’t want to feed it.

Yoongi took the bowl from your hands and placed it on your coffee table.

“Fine,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Absolutely not. You shook your head.

“What do you want to do? I don’t know what to do. What can I do?”

You, again, fell sideways, lying on the sofa with your legs still dangling down. It wasn’t entirely comfortable but that hardly mattered. You couldn’t answer; you didn’t know.

Then Yoongi did something that you wouldn’t in a thousand years have expected him to. Just as you had, in his apartment, weeks ago, he crawled behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, convinced for a second you might split and shatter. He was warm and soft and you could smell his hair and his breath tickled your neck and it hurt so much. It all hurt so much.

You breathed in deep and when you exhaled, you choked, crying again. You didn’t know you had more in you. You had thought you were dry, but just as there was no end to your sadness, there apparently was no end to your tears.

You lay there, letting him hold you as you cried, letting the sun lower in the sky, letting the stars come out.

“I’m fucking sick of it,” you gasped. “Sick of it, sick of it, sick of it.”

“Sick of what?”

“Everything. I hate it. I hate everything. I hate it. I hate being alive. I hate being me. I can’t stand it. I don’t know how people do it. I just want it to stop. I just want it to stop.”

“Life?”

“Yeah.”

“I get it. I don’t want you to stop being you, though. For what it’s worth.”

You couldn’t hear that kind of thing. Not now. You couldn’t take it.

“You just don’t know me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and thick from new tears.

“Tell me, then.”

“I fucking suck.”

“How?”

“Literally everything I am. Fundamentally flawed. I’m broken and stupid and I can’t be normal and no one can ever love me because I’m this. I’m just this all the time and I can’t get better and I thought that I could but it’s just me and my fucking broken head and I ruin everything. I ruin everything for everyone and always will and no one can stand me. No one can and I don’t fucking blame them. I can’t stand me either. It makes me sick to be such a useless heap of junk. I’m a worthless waste of space because what is the point of me? What do I do? I need people, I cling to people, I make myself their problem until they can’t take it anymore. I’m depressed and stupid and I will never achieve anything and never do anything and I might as well just die right now because who cares? Literally who cares. I tried and I fucking tried but I’m still me and I can’t run from it or change it and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be here. I don’t know what to do anymore. There is nothing for me. The future is black and it’s bleak because I’ll be there. I’m always there. I can’t get away from myself. I can’t bear it. I have to live like this? For years? More and more years? Twenty? Or thirty? Forty years of this? It makes me sick to think about. I can’t think about it. I can’t think about having to be alive like this for another day let alone any longer. I hate it. I hate being me and I hate being alive and I just wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just disappear. I’m a broken, useless, fucked in the head piece of shit and no one will ever love me because they can’t. I’m unlovable. I’m this and it makes me unlovable but I can’t change it so I will always be unlovable and I can’t do it. I can’t live like that. I can’t do it anymore.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath and Yoongi said nothing. He was quiet for long enough for your shame to creep back in, curling its fingers around the door frame and pulling itself in, unbidden and unwanted. You were embarrassed now, again. You felt stupid. Again. You felt pointless and petty and pathetic and you were about to shrug Yoongi off, to tell him to leave, to crawl into your bed and hide under the sheets when his arms tightened around you. You heard as well as felt him take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I understand.”

There was a pregnant pause and Yoongi cleared his throat.

“But I don’t think any of those things about you. For what it’s worth.”

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #tw self harm #tw cutting

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dreamweaversfavsandthoughs · 6 months

Text

Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 4: That’s Amorte

(There is no ethical consumption under capitalism)

Don’t read any further if you don’t want to spoiler your appetite…

My Favs

We got Morty back!

When the world was about to send out an Amber Alert on a missing kid, Morty decided to return to us! I’ve enjoyed the season so far but having Rick and Morty together is a stark reminder that the strength of this show is found in the dynamic between grandfather and grandson. Also, I love seeing Rick getting healthy and bettering himself, but I also love to see a Rick that’s amoral and a bit unhinged.

Facial animation:

I don’t know if this is due to the Irish animation studio they’re working with now, but I’ve noticed there’s a bit more diversity in the facial expressions compared to the last two or three seasons. Has anyone else noticed this?

They did a Soylent Green!

I predicted that this might have been a red herring seeing the initial clips and they might instead do something akin to the Universal Paperclip game, but a Soylent Green is what we got. Well, the idea behind the paperclip game is still on the table for next season…

Euthanasia, Cannibalism, and Suicide

Quite the trifecta of “subjects we don’t discuss in polite society,” but I admire them for taking the risk and weaving everything together well. Kinda surprised S&P let them get away with it.

“His dying wish is to see deader people so he can feel superior.”

Morty-O’s Suicide Spaghetti

“ Is this people or not people? I just need to know how much I should pretend to be upset.”

Oh, Jerry…

“They dyed their sun institutional gray.”

“Ooo gray areas. My specialty.”

Classic Rick

Kotomi’s cover of “Live Forever”

“Life itself is wrong and that means death is right. But you can’t side with that. So you live, even when it means eating.”

Not My Fav:

They could have gotten nastier.

This is my one small gripe in an episode that I think is fantastic. I’m confident there is an earlier draft out there that got so much grosser before S&P made their cuts and I demand to see that draft!

Release that nasty cut!!!

My Thoughts:

First my less serious thought, how in the hell did Rick find out that those people turned in spaghetti when they unalived themselves? My headcanon is that he has made a regular habit of impersonating a doctor on that planet because he sees doctors as nothing more than glorified mechanics, but for people. Rick knows he’s the smartest man in the universe and a proper scientist so practicing medicine would not be that much of a challenge and along the way he discovered this delicious trait about the Keplar people.

On a more serious note, there are two moments that really stood out to me. First, was when Morty broke the news of the spaghetti’s origin to the family and their reaction. They were angry and disappointed—in Morty for delivering the message rather than Rick for feeding them people-spaghetti. That spaghetti was amazing and brought everyone joy and they were more angry about losing their joy than the moral implications of consuming human flesh. Morty destroyed the illusion that they were “good” people and instead of actually being good people and refusing to eat the spaghetti, Morty created a work-around so that he and the family could still maintain the illusion.

That felt very realistic to how, dare I say, all of us have acted at some point, whether it’s the food we eat or that store that sells the jeans that fit perfectly or the online retailer that delivers anything we could possibly want the next day. Maybe, we find out someday that it’s not created in the most ethical manner and we rationalize it. We think, “ Oh, it’s not that bad.” or “ I can’t afford the more ethical option,” or "I have such few joys in my life I don't want to lose this as well.” It’s easier to uphold the illusion of being morally upright under a system that makes it exceedingly difficult to do so. But even if the capitalistic system is destroyed can we ever really be absolved? This leads to the second moment that stood out, Rick’s monologue.

“Life itself is wrong and that means death is right. But you can’t side with that. So you live, even when it means eating.”

My interpretation is that Rick is saying, “Life, by it’s very nature, is inherently unethical and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Even if the meat you eat comes from an animal that is well taken care of, killed as quickly and painlessly as possibly, and processed in a facility that treats its workers well and obeys all regulations—that animal still had to die in order to produce that meat. You’re a vegan. Plants are still living things and for many plants the process of getting food from them destroys them in the process. Millions of bacteria are destroyed every time you wash your hands. Life needs other kinds of life to end for it to keep going, but humans are the only creatures that are aware of this fact so we create arbitrary categories around which types of life are okay to destroy (categories we can’t all agree on) in order to maintain the illusion of morality.

This episode does not have a feel-good message among the jokes and absurd characters and I appreciate that. This one got my brain a-churnin’ and I’m sure I read way too much into this episode but I couldn’t help myself.

#rick and morty #rick and morty season 7 #rnm #rnm spoilers #rick and morty spoilers #rick sanchez #morty smith #that’s amorte

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feelbokkie · 7 months

Text

Love Risk | Epilogue

**Feelbokkie's 2,000 Follower event post**

pairing: Hyunjin x fem reader; Changbin x fem reader

genre: smau, dating because of a bet, crack, angst, fluff, university au

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of sex, mention of drinking, lots of talk about military service

summary: Hyunjin and Changbin make a bet to see who can make the reader fall in love with them first. Will one of them be able to succeed or will it all crash and burn before they do?

word count: 2,897

screenshot count: 5

previous | masterlist

You walk into the practice room and set down your bag on the side counter. You walk over to the light switch, lightly stretching. You, Ae-Cha, and Min-Jun are meant to perform at the MAMAs in a few days and the choreography is the entire 8 years since you and Cerberus debuted. Not only is it the most physically demanding choreography that you have come up with, but it is also going to be the last time the three of you are going to be able to perform together for 2 years.

Being the only male in your group and recently turned 28, Min-Jun has to report to do his mandatory military service this year. It's hard for all three of you. You were a bit more together about it than Ae-Cha is. You went to Chan after Changbin left to do his service requirement earlier this year when you remembered that Changbin and Min-Jun were both born in the same year. Chan has already gone through this before with Lee Know after he left last year. You needed to know from a leader's perspective what to expect.

Since debuting, the three of you have only gotten closer. Ever since the three of you started living together, all of your time was spent together. When you weren't busy rehabilitating your knee or in your respective classes, you, Ae-Cha, and Min-Jun were working hard on new music and choreography. More often than not, you all fell asleep in the same room while working. After graduating from JYPU, your codependency only grew stronger as all of your free time was spent at the JYPE building getting ready for your first post-graduate comeback where you'd be able to devote all your time promoting your group and album. You're not sure after 8 years, how you and Ae-Cha are going to manage. Working on music alone was hard enough. You and Ae-Cha started working on your solo albums so you would have something to do once Min-Jun is gone.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" You groan when you turn the lights on in the practice room. Min-Jun and Ae-Cha sit on the floor in the middle of the room. Clothes disheveled, someone's lipstick smeared across both of their faces, both of them breathing heavily.

"Fuck," Ae-Cha groans.

"Damn it," Min-Jun whispers under his breath.

"One rule," You close the practice room door and walk back to the sound bar, "We have one fucking rule. And that is you two separate business and pleasure. The JYPE building is a no-no zone."

"Yeah, we know. And we came here to practice but one thing led to the other and--" Min-Jun tries to explain.

"I really do not need to hear the details of your sex life."

"Sorry, Y/n," Ae-Cha says, standing up and readjusting her clothes.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed. In less than a week we're heading to Tokyo for the MAMAs and we're still nowhere near perfect on this performance. This is the last performance Cerberus is going to have for a while and I want it to go well." You whine, leaning against the wall.

"It's fine. We shouldn't have been messing around in here. Here, Cha Cha and I will stay and practice with you until we're 100%. Even if it kills us." Min-Jin quickly stands up.

"Speak for your fucking self, Junnie," Ae-Cha says annoyed and disgusted, like she wasn't just making out with Min-Jun 2 minutes ago.

Ae-Cha and Min-Jun are dating. They started 3 years ago after they had spent quite a bit of time alone together while Min-Jun was trying to teach Ae-Cha how to work on her own music. They kept it a secret at first, not wanting to make things awkward with you. But when you came home one day and found them in a rather compromising position, everything came to light. You weren't mad, you were happy for them. You've watched for years as they secretly pined for each other and pretended they didn't like each other. You were just glad for that to be over. You did have to set up ground rules about their relationship staying away from work. Not that the scandal would be too big, but you didn't want it interfering with the group.

“Why are you acting like you weren’t two seconds away from jumping my bones earlier l?” He teases, brushing his long black hair out of his face. He started growing his hair out at the end of last year when he realized he would have to buzz it all off when he started. Even bleached it for a while to match Ae-Cha. He only recently dyed it back to his original color to get ready for when he has to leave next week.

"If you two are going to start bickering again, I can practice alone like I was planning to originally." You mutter as you pull the camera out of your bag. You're supposed to be vlogging everything for your part of the Cerberus YouTube channel. All of you are. You're making a mini-documentary about your last performance before Min-Jun has to leave. It was your manager's idea but you didn't oppose the idea. It'll be something you can look at when you want to remember this time in your career.

"Sorry, Y/n. I did my endurance training this morning. I was able to get through the entire performance while running on the treadmill and keeping my voice stable." Ae-Cha beams. With how physically strenuous the choreography is and the fact that you have to sing live with no backing track, the three of you have been doing endurance training by running on a treadmill for the entire duration of your song while singing. It's insane, but it's helping significantly.

"I'd like to think that I've played some part in that," Min-Jun smirks.

"You really are a pervert," You say before smacking him and turning on the camera. Min-Jun hides himself out of the shot and flips you off. You roll your eyes and hand him one of the mics that you use for practice. You go in your bag and get a set of mic headsets and hand one to Ae-Cha.

"I'll order us dinner since you guys are voluntarily here right now. Maybe even breakfast too depending on how long we're stuck here." You say as you grab the remote for the speaker and walk over to your first position.

"I hope we're not here that long, but with Junnie, we might be."

"Literally, what did I do to you?"

"Be born," Ae-Cha smirks, playing into their bickering siblings' act for the camera.

"That was more for you but okay,"

"Guys, let's focus." You say before pressing play on the remote.

***

If there is one thing you hate about your job, it's award shows. More specifically, you hated being nominated for awards. If anything, you wanted to just do your little performances without all the extra bells and whistles that came with the job. You didn't like the socializing aspect of it all. You had to network with other people in your industry. some were pleasant to talk to. Others were just full of themselves and wanted to intimidate you. You hated being nominated for awards because cameras were on you more often than not to try to get you in a compromising reaction. You also hated if you won awards. You can't prepare a speech because it looks like you were cocky enough to know you would win but you couldn't not prepare something because it would look unprofessional. It is hell.

All eyes are on Cerberus this year. Your group has been nominated for 4 awards: Yogibo worldwide icon of the year, Yogibo artist of the year, Yogibo album of the year, and Yogibo song of the year. Because of Min-Jun's impending departure for his military service, the three of you have been working harder than you ever have in your career. Even Min-Jun was nominated for best male artist after releasing his first solo album earlier this year as one of his bucket list goals. Luckily, you split up the duties. You'd speak if you won worldwide icon and artist of the year, Min-Jun would speak for album of the year, and Ae-Cha would speak for song of the year.

Luckily for you, your were sat at the same table with Stray Kids for the award show. You sat next to Felix, not caring if it would spark dating rumors yet again because he makes award shows fun. Sitting with Stray Kids at award shows in general is fun. But, with Lee Know and Changbin away doing their military service, they've been relatively calm and Chan a little bit less stressed.

"Are you going to Jackson seonbaenim's after-party tonight?" Felix asks, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Hm... maybe, we're supposed to be leaving first thing in the morning." You explain. You kick Ae-Cha's chair after catching her and Min-Jun holding hands under the table. They quickly separate, forgetting how many cameras are around.

"Why are you guys leaving early?" Jeongin asks, leaning over Seungmin to hear better.

"We have some things to take care of back home." You softly smile. Min-Jun wanted to keep his enlistment a secret until tonight when you'd all announce it during your performance. Even now, he's wearing a wig to hide his freshly buzzed hair until the big reveal. It's only a 3-hour flight from Tokyo to Seoul, but Min-Jun wants to spend his last official day with his family so the three of you would be flying back before any of the other artists so he could go home and you and Ae-Cha can send him off properly afterward.

"When you guys win, you'll be the honored guests. Nobody will care that we're winning this year's platinum award." Hyunjin adds not looking at you.

"If we win. We're up against so many other artists who have been in the industry longer than us. It'll be a miracle if we win." You mutter, leaning back in your chair.

"That's what Chan hyung said last year and look what happened." Seungmin laughs.

"Y/n said we shouldn't get our hopes up so if we don't win we don't have meme-worthy reactions," Ae-Cha adds.

"She's right. Your leader is smart, listen to her." Chan smiles.

"You say that like we don't listen to you." Jisung whines, playfully hitting Chan's arm.

"Do you listen to me? Like ever?" He turns to the younger boy.

"That's because you're an old man who is cramping our style. You're half 60 already, you can't hang with us." Seungmin chimes in, earning an annoyed look from Chan. This prompts Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix to dogpile old person comments towards Chan. Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains quiet, watching the Ateez performance going on.

Whenever you're around, in a group setting, Hyunjin shuts down. He gets quiet, only speaking when needed and hardly looks in your direction. Until he hears you laugh or something, then he's zeroing in on you, staring in a way that makes you self-conscious. There was a long while after you graduated, when Hyunjin would avoid you. You had to confront him about it. You two belonged to the same company, he couldn't just avoid all situations where you two might run into each other forever just because he was punishing himself for hurting you all those years ago.

Truth be told, you've never forgiven Hyunjin. You hate him, and you told him as much to his face when you confronted him about avoiding you. You hate him more than you hate Changbin. You hated him more for the simple fact that you loved him and you could never get over the fact that he played with your emotions for a measly $2,000. If you're being honest, Hyunjin broke your heart. Damaged it in a way you don't think can ever be repaired. It made you jealous of Ae-Cha and Min-Jun. How they were able to be in love with each other without their emotional baggage getting in the way. How they could love each other without fear that the other was using them for their own selfish gains.

You've tried dating after the disaster that was your situationships with Changbin and Hyunjin. You really did. But the second anything got real, you panicked and broke it all off. If anything, this experience is great for all the music that you're working on for your solo album.

"Y/n, they're about to announce artist of the year," Min-Jun whispers, taping your shoulder right before the cameras appear in your face. You plaster on a fake smile as the presenter goes through the nominees.

***

"I thought you hate me?" Hyunjin asks as he pulls his pants back on.

You fucked up. You're not sure if it's the alcohol coursing through your veins, this high from winning all of the awards, the depression from the realization that Min-Jun is leaving for 2 years in 72 hours, or a combination of the three, but you genuinely fucked up. In a moment of pure vulnerability, you ended up venting to Hyunjin during Jackson's after-party. All your friends disappeared almost immediately. Min-Jun and Ae-Cha probably snuck off to do a more respectable version of whatever the fuck just happened with Hyunjin. Chan went and followed Jeongin, who he didn't trust after the energy drink livestream incident. The rest of the Stray Kids' 00's line disappears to cause mischief like they usually do at parties before they get bored and hug the walls until the rest of the group is ready to leave.

"I do hate you, but I hate myself more apparently." You mutter, turning around to fix your makeup, most of which is staining Hyunjin's face.

You were fine. You didn't necessarily like parties, but they were tolerable networking events. But after tonight, everyone wanted to congratulate you on your wins or comment on your performance. A few people even went ahead and reassured you that you wouldn't become irrelevant while Min-Jun's gone. Where that energy came from? You have no idea. Some people in the industry are just vile. You had at least 5 different people come up to you and tell you that you only won album and song of the year because of Min-Jun. People even told you that you only won the other two awards because of your parents' influence, which doesn't make sense. You've never partnered with them and they've never once advertised that you are their child.

"That's exactly what I want to hear after we just finished fucking in the bathroom at a party." He mutters under his breath. You're not even sure how the two of you got to this point. One second you were talking to Hyunjin outside as you watched Jackson drunkenly do a backflip off the roof of the house he rented for the party into a pool, the next second you're in the bathroom getting railed by him. Truly a confusing timeline of events.

"Get over yourself Hyun," You groan readjusting your dress, "we both know this is a one-time thing."

"It doesn't have to be," He spins you around and closes the gap between you two, pressing his forehead against yours. Your heart starts beating quickly in your chest, you can feel it in your throat as you try to swallow.

"This isn't a good idea..." You whisper, barely audible over the bass of the music coming from outside the bathroom.

"I've never had a single good idea when it comes to you, you know that better than anyone else." He whispers, slowly closing the gap between your lips.

"Hyunjin..."

"Shh, let me talk while the alcohol is giving me the courage to do so. Then you can tell me to fuck off all you want and I will."

"I still don't forgive you,"

"That's fine. I still don't forgive myself. I hurt you, and I never wanted to. But it's been 8 years and I've changed. Let me show you how much I changed." His hand slips down under your dress, resting on your hip bone, thumbing the waistband of your underwear.

"People don't change. Hell, being here with you right now is proof of that. Things are going to shit and I'm self-destructing by sleeping with you." You laugh.

"Sometimes shit needs to blow up to make way for something beautiful."

"If your drunk ass can give me one good example of something beautiful coming from something blowing up, then I'll give you a point for that."

"The big bang. And I'm not talking about what we just did." He laughs, you can feel his breath on your lips.

"You were talking so sweet and actually winning me over but you just lost me with your fuck boy comment. See, people don't change."

"I promise you that I've changed."

"I'm not willing to risk my career or my sanity to find that out, Hyunjin."

"Love is all risk. If you don't take that risk, then you'll never know what you're missing out on."

"I'm not missing out if I don't risk anything in the first place."

"Y/n..."

"Let's have this conversation when we're both sober and not in a bathroom."

"It's a date," He smirks.

"It is not a date,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Tag list:

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you

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