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chasedbyatlantic · 3 months

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when you wash your hair, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — you decide to surprise a sleeping joel after you've been working all day outside of jackson's walls, but it doesn't go as you plan.

warnings: gender neutral x joel miller, post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, mentions of you and joel in a relationship, sub!joel, joel has ptsd, joel almost hurts reader (doesn't tho so dw!), lots of fluff at the end, cute ending, lots of swearing, ellie being annoying as per usual LOL. lmk if there’s anything i missed <3

wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: hiiii this is my very first fic on tumblr! i have been obsessed w/ tlou for the LONGEST time now so why not start writing for my fav fictional mass murderer? anyway- hope u guys enjoy! i plan to post a ton more so stay tuned xoxo

—

You had just finished an ungodly long shift along the outskirts of Jackson, keeping everyone inside safe from- well, whatever lay outside (scary squirrels, mostly). It had been so different since you arrived, with Joel and Ellie. For starters, you weren't kept on edge every single second of every single day - Joel was, which you always got pissed at him for, since you two were more than safe inside these walls. There was also the fact that life had sort of just- resumed, after twenty years of fighting for your life. It was alright, though, a sense of normalcy was nice, even if it were to only last for a little while (you were hoping it lasted forever).

As soon as you were inside the gates of Jackson, you rode over to the stables in which your horse, Leo, was housed at. The big wooden doors were opened by a stable hand that looked no older than Ellie, maybe she knew who this was, you thought to yourself.

You had slid the kid a small "thank you." as they closed the door behind you, and you hopped off Leo. You reached in your bag and scrounged for a second, before pulling out an apple core, the remains of the apple you had eaten earlier. "Here boy," your hand raised towards the horse's snout with the leftovers in-palm, and he took it as if it were the best thing in the world.

Leo munched away while you swapped his bridle for a halter and lead, tugging him to his freshly-mucked stall. He had walked over to his water bucket and you moved with him, undoing his girth and removing his saddle. It was hoisted over your arm as you moved out and locked his stall. "Excuse me," You called over to the stable hand that had let you in as you put all of his tack on the stand in front, "Do you mind brushing him down for me? I've had a long day and gotta get home quick."

The kid nodded their head eagerly, which had earned a smile from you. You weren't lying about having a long day or needing to get home quick - besides, you had always stayed after your shifts, right now you were just craving to see your favourite person (and a warm bath too, you had guessed).

You had removed your gloves as you took one last glimpse at your boy before you left him to be taken care of by the stable hand. As you walked out of the stable, you were greeted with a nice breeze. It wasn't exactly winter yet, but it sure as hell wasn't summer. Autumn was close on finishing, which only meant the days were getting longer.

It took you a mere twenty five minutes to walk back to the Miller residence. If you had a little pep in your step, it would've taken no longer than fifteen. But, being up since before sunrise has its cons. Anyway, it isn't your fault that Tommy and Maria (Joel's brother and new sister-in-law) placed you guys in the farthest house literally ever.

As you approached closer to the home, you could see the familiar little (she would kill you if she heard you describe her as little) girl. The girl took notice of you too, "Fucking finally!" Ellie had kicked up her skateboard, grabbing the tip of it, and came running over. "Jesus Christ, I thought you had got eaten by like- fucking bigfoot out there!", She seemed to be only half-joking.

"I was not eaten out there, Ellie." You sigh as you messed her hair up slightly with your hand, "Is Joel still out on patrol?" You had asked the girl. Her face dropped, earning an "ugh!" from her. "You two love birds are gross. You should care more about me than him! He's a frail, broken, old man while I'm a super cool, and totally awesome young person." You rolled your eyes, an automatic laugh escaping your lips. "Another half an hour out here, Elle. It's almost sundown- and please be careful, for fuck sakes. I don't want to be popping your kneecap back in place because of a fall off that- board."

You weren't Ellie's mom, and you didn't mean to take any place of a motherly figure in her life - it just, sort of happened. After what had happened in Salt Lake City a year ago, and you had fought for Ellie back alongside Joel, you couldn't help but grow so much more attached to her- you and Joel both. This is when your motherly instincts (you were never a mother, not before or during this apocalyptic world) kicked in. You both shared a special bond, one that would never be broken, despite the cruel world you both live in.

A small grunt and a "fine" escaped the girl's lips as she flips her board down and kicks off down the street. You shake your head with an almost disapproving look and walk down the rest of the block to your home. A small smile plays upon your lips as you approach the house with a mailbox at the bottom of the driveway that reads "MILLER". Your last name was not Miller, but you were in a relationship with a Miller, so that could maybe, in the slightest, count as your name too.

Your hand brushed past the rusted metal box as you walk up the paved drive way, you're excited to see Joel. Hell, it feels like it's been an eternity since you've seen that man - when in reality, it's only been since this morning. You climb up the wooden stairs at the front of your porch and remove your boots before entering the house - this saved horrid amounts of mud that would scatter in the small foyer of your home. Once your feet are out of your dirty boots, you silently enter the home.

The door was never locked, not when Joel knew you or Ellie weren't home. You didn't know why he kept it unlocked- maybe in case something had happened and you needed to get home fast, or in case you would lose your keys while out and about. It wasn't that big of a deal, though; nobody else lived in this part of the town (besides Tommy and Maria, who were distant neighbours).

It was dead silent when you entered, too eery for your liking. "Joel?" You called out as you shrugged off your autumn layers. No response. "Joel?" You call out once again, moving to where you had seen the light. You approached tip-toeing, starting to get a bit on edge. Joel was always there to greet you when you got home, unless he had patrol duty himself. As soon as you step foot in your living room, all of the previous worries you had melted away as you saw your favourite person curled up on the arm chair, sitting back and mouth open slightly. You wish you had a camera, god a polaroid of this would be amazing.

You approached him, quiet as ever, sliding the sleeves of your soft-knit sweater over ninety percent of your hands. You had brought your face closer to Joel's once you were close enough. The smell of his vanilla and rose scented shampoo had engulfed you. Joel said he hated it (in reality, he definitely did not), but if it made you love him a little more, he would wash his hair with it.

"You're perfect, you know that." You whisper to him, even though he was sound asleep. From the faded freckles over the bridge of his nose from being out in the sun too much this summer, to the small scars that littered his forehead from years of just surviving, he was perfect.

You breathed hushly as you moved your hands up to his face, to cup his cheeks. You thought it was perfect, for him to wake up to you (as if he didn't every morning) at this moment. You knew he missed you when he wasn't with you, he told you multiple times. This would be a nice thing to make his day slightly better, you had thought. Your fingers made soft contact with the flesh on his face - but, this is where it all went wrong.

Joel had shot up from the deep (well, you thought deep) sleep he was in and grabbed the hands that were touching his face. It hadn't registered to him that it was actually you who was touching his face, and not a clicker, or a raider, or anything else. Rage and a sense of fear filled his eyes as they shot opened, eyebrows furrowed as they looked around frantically - he was ready to fight.

A loud grunt and an "ow." escaped your lips once your hands were grabbed and yanked. It had happened within a blink of an eye. You weren't exactly in the mood for getting manhandled in this current moment, but here you were. "Joel- hey, hey, it's just me. You're okay." You spoke quick, trying to pry him off your hand.

It was now that his eyes had met yours, and it took him a moment (which felt like eternity) to process it was you. "Baby.." His grip immediately loosened and his eyes fell. He looked horrified, at himself rather than anything. "M'sorry." There was a tone in his voice that made him sound ashamed, like he had just broken bad news to someone he loved.

"Don't apologize to me, Jesus Christ." You spoke almost too fast and brought your hand to his face again, you felt bad for scaring him awake- your plan had massively backfired. It took Joel a minute before he melted into the touch of your hand in his cheek, something he will only do when it is only you and him around each other. "Shouldn't have been sleepin' while you weren't home." He muttered, his eyes looking everywhere but at yours.

Your heart ached, he shouldn't feel like this- fuck, you're so stupid for doing this you thought to yourself. "Don't apologize baby, hey-" You brought his focus to you, and only you, "-listen, you're alright, okay? We're safe here, you know. I'm safe, Ellie's safe, you're safe." You reassured the man in front of you. "If you want to sleep all day without a care in the world, you can do it."

Joel was being extremely vulnerable right now- and he knew that you sensed it. This part of him never came out, he was always the strong one in the relationship (not that you weren't, he just had that aura linked to him). Your finger rubbed back and forth over his cheek. "M'sorry for waking you from your nap- I was just too jealous of how peaceful you looked. All comfortable in your blue sweater.." your eyes started to trail down his body right in front of you, "-your sweatpants.." you snapped yourself out of the trance you had fallen in, your eyes reaching back up to Joel's.

He was just quiet, in his own thoughts. "Ya'know I love you." you told him. He looked like he snapped out of his own thoughts once you said this to him, the smallest smile known to man appearing on his face (it was genuine, though). "I know, darlin'." This was your cue, you reached forward and placed your lips onto Joel's. Now this, this was home- god, you could've had your lips on his all day for eternity. Joel melted into the kiss, and placed one of his hands on your thighs.

Things had got heated between the two of you within seconds, suddenly the positions were switched and you were straddling Joel on the armchair in your living room. It wasn't until you tore apart from his lips that it hit you. "Ellie’s going to be home soon, baby. We can't have her catching us like this- not again." You tell him as you catch your breath. His lips find your neck, he only hummed in response. After a moment of no proper response from him, you tap his shoulder, "Seriously, Joel!". He had grunted, basically forcing himself off of you. "So let her see us, not like she don't know 'bout it." He muttered, leaning back in the chair you two were in. "Oh, suddenly you're mister PDA?" You asked as you got up, stretching.

He said something under his breath that you couldn't catch, but chose not to pressure him about it. "But hey.." You grab his hand and help him up, "Maybe you could help me in the shower, hm? Let me borrow some o' that good smellin' shampoo ya' got? Wash my hair for me?” Your eyes met his, a smile completely lighting up your entire face. "I'on mind, doll. Maybe you could help me with a few things too," He reaches down, pressing a wet kiss onto your lips.

You take this as the perfect time to slip your fingers between his, and lead him up to the second floor of your large house. Even though you had completely scared the shit out of Joel earlier, and you thought you were a dead man for a split second, he forgave you. He always forgives you - this is why you love him.

Joel had promised you that he would always stay, no matter what had happened between you two. After years of being together, through your ups and your downs, through your serious arguments and your little scares (like this), he was yours. Joel was always yours, and you were always his.

You two come laughing down the stairs, completely soaked from the shower you had taken together. Joel was back in the clothes he wore when you got home, and you were changed into one of his shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts you had. He had his hand in yours as you lead him down the stairs. Before you could even step foot on the first floor, an "ew!" was yelled by a familiar voice.

"That is fucking disgusting- I cannot believe it! I can't leave you two together for more than thirty minutes before you turn into fucking rabbits. I may as well start thinking about names for the baby!" Ellie over exaggerates, acting completely disgusted from you and Joel holding hands.

Joel shoots Ellie a death glare as he drops his hand from yours momentarily, about to open his mouth before you interrupt. "Do I need to send you to your room, or something? You're so fucking crazy Elle!" You had let the little nick name slip out of your mouth, "You know I would never do anything unholy under the same roof as you." Well, you weren't lying. You and Joel never did it while Ellie was there, you didn't want anyone hearing what happened while you two were alone.

"Don't care, that's gross! Dinner is already made, I am GOING TO BED!" She had yelled as she was already half way up the stairs to her room on the second floor. Joel's hand snaked around your waist from behind as you tsk. "We got stuck with the most batshit crazy kid, I'm telling you."

Joel's hand tightens a smudge when you say that, "I love her though, and you I guess." He rests his head between the crook of your neck and slightly lets go once you add that. Even after the little bicker between the teenager, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

Even though you were in the midst of an apocalypse, life couldn't have been anymore good to you. They gave you Joel, and you were content - more than content - with it.

—

when you wash your hair, matt maltese

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ingravinoveritas · 10 days

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Hello, lovely followers. I was traveling for work again in the second half of this past week, but I'm now home and looking forward to answering all of your Asks that I've been seeing in my inbox. I first wanted to reflect a little bit, however, because this trip was also a personal one for me.

This week's travels took me to Anaheim, California, which is where Disneyland is (I think I actually must've not been far from where David and Georgia just were, funnily enough, as my hotel was right by the park). It wasn't my first trip to Anaheim, though. The last time I was there was when I was 11 years old, on summer vacation with my dad in California while my mom was on a tour in Italy at the same time. As you'd expect, my dad wanted to take me to Disneyland...but I was too scared and overwhelmed, and we only ever got as far as the parking lot. The gates were visible, and I remember how they loomed, that feeling of something foreboding washing over me...but rather than excitement, my tiny body was filled with dread. I mentioned this while in conversation with one of the hotel employees during my stay, and he said, "What kind of kid doesn't want to go to Disney?"

What kind of a kid. Well, an autistic kid. A kid who was constantly anxious, emotional, and terrified of sensory overload. A kid who hated crowds and noise and rides. A kid who didn't travel well to begin with, because she was afraid of new places, anything unfamiliar, anything that wasn't safe and home.

A kid who was me.

Even before this, there were so many ways that the world had said "This is not for you." But still, there was something different about it happening there, in the bright California sunshine. My favorite Disney princess as a kid was always Belle, because she also loved to read and didn't fit in with the people around her. Belle connected more with books and animals than people, and that made me connect with her. But Belle was also beautiful (as Disney princesses tend to be), and thanks to the bullying from my peers, I was very aware that was something I was not. So no matter how much I wanted to be Belle, there was no way I could ever be a Disney princess.

This is not for you.

Thinking about all of this during my trip made me feel so many things, but I was most surprised to find myself feeling a sense of nostalgia in particular, a longing for the child I was, who I wish I could comfort. It also made me feel such sadness for that child and anyone else who finds themselves in a situation or a place where the world thinks they should be happy, but they're not. And there are few things more difficult than feeling that way in (of all places) "the happiest place on Earth."

I didn't end up going to Disney on this trip, even though I had a little bit of time to do so. It's still not for me, but the difference now is that I am okay with that. That need to be the kid who wants to visit Disney--the "good" child, the child who isn't "broken"--has gone away, and I'm more than happy being adult me, and finding a place that fits me, instead of the other way around.

And that was my nostalgia trip, in quite the literal sense of the phrase. I have a picture or two to share in another post, so stay tuned for that as well...

#personal post #autism #disneyland #of course this happens during World Autism Month #so my emotions were a little all over the place #reflections #reflections from the road #childhood #thoughts #nostalgia #thank you all you lovely people for being here #<3

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taboo-delusion · 1 month

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So, I just discovered something interesting.

This is a bit of a long one, so bear with me. It's important. Seriously.

I just woke up a few hours ago. My meds are starting to kick in. I was having a very serious and genuine, deep conversation (in-head) and it was... beautiful. It wasn't happy, but it was beautiful. Not the point.

Point is:

I had not had a single fucking intrusive thought today until someone made a noise in the other room.

I am so fucking PISSED OFF

Why my brain refuses to realize that intrusive thoughts CAUSED the good feeling to go away, I have no fucking idea. I've known that for almost a year now, yet my stupid fucking subconscious refuses to change anything it's doing

Before I snap my fucking android phone in half and yeet somebody's face into neptune, I thought I'd share the discovery!!!!

Basically:

MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS DID NOT START UNTIL SOMETHING STARTLED ME OUT OF FOCUS

AS I TYPE THIS, I REALIZE THAT INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS -AT LEAST FOR ADHDERS- ARE A SURVIVAL TACTIC.

Elaborating:

When you fall asleep and your heart slows too much, your body does the falling thing to make sure you're still alive.

It's not that intrusive thoughts are *Just* because your brain gets too quiet, It's because your life has never been completely quite before, or -like me- the few times it is quiet, something interrupts. And even if it doesn't piss you off, even if you don't jump like I do, your brain still registers it as not safe.

Falling asleep, heart slows a lot-

Body: *Sends adrenaline just to make sure it still actually works.*

Drowning, even mostly unconscious-

Body and brain: *Hold onto that last half-breath even if it feels like you're head is going to explode.*

Going grocery shopping or talking to someone you think is cool-

Brain: *Remembers what it felt like the first time your guardian was indifferent or mean about something that made you happy or calm.*

Things around you actually get quiet-

Brain *Sends a thought you hate just to make sure you're prepared for a sudden problem.*

TDLR 1: Your brain isn't mean on purpose, It's just paranoid and still has a will to live.

Listen. I know I'm just some random dude from a weird blog. But I'm trying to translate, to assist. Maybe somebody else needs this realization as much as I do. I apologize for the yelling earlier. I'm still just as upset, but only at my dumbass subconscious. Now some time has passed, and I have regained self-control.

(I also apologize for the above paragraph, my brain nags for me to do this, but I can't remember why. So:)

I am no psychologist. Here are my qualifications (why you should listen to me):

As my friends call it- "Disturbingly self-aware at all times."

Paranoid Schizophrenic with actual (unrelated) OCD, with years of experience dealing with it- more healthily in recent years.

Philosophy and deep thinking is simply my default. I use metaphors, but everything in this post is entirely literal, ...except the angry threat. (*begrudgingly accepts disappointment*)

I am a fiction writer. I don't know about healing people/first aid, but I know a LOT about how anatomy works, with many deep-dives on the psychology/evolution side.

People irl generally consider me a genius? Idk how to gauge that, IQ tests are irrelevant with this type of... smart?. I've been compared to both Da Vinci and Einstein. So, ...actually that's pretty fuckin' cool- (I AM NOT TRYING TO BRAG! I APOLOGIZE IF IT COMES OFF THAT WAY! I've never put it all down like this, and I'm just surprised and questioning my reputation.)

(Also, I love playing detective, so naturally I call myself Batman XD.)

Autistic; I experience the world, and every situation, from a view without any context.

ADHD: My brain automatically -As a guardian I hate describes- "Can watch three different movies at the same time, all in fast forward, and can keep up with all of them." ... Well, yes, but technically no. Idk if other ADHD people do this, but my brain "connects the dots" so quickly, I end up laughing at jokes I've never heard before the 'punchline', because I've already figured out what you're going to say next.

Now combine all that. I am kicking depression's ass and now I want to help you do the same.

I have only mentioned the relevant things. Please keep in mind that ALL of these have both advantages and disasters. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I am running on four hours of sleep. For the love of whatever, I hope this actually helps someone other than me.

Qualifications are noted because: This is all stuff (and stuff like this) that I am just always casually aware of.

TLDR2: Even if I wasn't trying to help people feel better, Apparently I was born with a nat 20 perception/insight check, so please don't argue that I truly understand what I'm talking about here.

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deeply-unserious-fellow · 16 days

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Something I don't like about a lot of Vox takes I see is that they tend to portray Vox as someone who's unpleasant to work with and has weird ideas about what partnership means when really... he's not? He's not and he doesn't. It's just that two of the most prominent interactions we've seen him have are with Valentino(who is a fucking NIGHTMARE to work with) and Alastor(a man he has undisclosed, deeply emotional history with). But everyone seems to discount his OTHER important relationship: Velvette. Which by all accounts, is INCREDIBLY normal.

Like, yeah, their first interaction opens with her yelling at him, but that's less about Vox himself and more about Valentino. As they keep talking throughout the first bit of the episode, she starts calming down, and they just seem to genuinely get along? She has every right to look upset during Stayed Gone because Vox is being really weird and she's nOT THE ONE WHO ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED HIM TO DO THIS SHIT(staring directly at Val rn), but even then during the meeting after Stayed Gone she does actually. Participate. Unlike s o m e people. Despite being on her phone the whole time(which is literally her job-), she actually pays attention and contributes real ideas! Which tbh she didn't have to do at ALL like she did not have to put up w/ Vox's bs in RKtVS the way she did. There's also their phone call during the overlord meeting which, while I definitely think Vel was playing it up to annoy Carmilla, still sounded like a conversation between two ppl who genuinely like and respect eachother!

No matter what you think their relationship is(romantic, platonic, etc...), Vox and Velvette seem to get along REALLY well(outside of Alastor-related incidents). Like, better than either of them do with literally anybody else in the show. Vox & Val do LIKE eachother, but I find whatever the fuck is going on beneath the after the battles & masterless cattles to be DEEPLY upsetting to think about for too long(ex; any of my other posts abt their relationship), and the only other interactions we've seen either Vox or Vel have are Stayed Gone & Respectless, which are literally just song battles. Both of their only interactions outside of the Vees have been song battles. Aw fuck I'm getting off topic... BACK TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS COLLEAGUES- okay uh basically, I don't think they would get along this well if Vox was a terrible person to work with(note I said WORK WITH. Hate that I need to specify this but I don't think Vox is a good person overall, just a good business partner). I think Velvette is generally a good bench mark for both Vox & Valentino's relationships with other characters because she's their equal, their friend, and isn't in a weird toxic relationship with either of them. Their interactions with her provide a window into how they just generally interact with people. And based off of their interactions, Vox seems to be actually pretty decent to work with when he isn't being Actively Provoked for shits and giggles or trying to sooth the tantrum of a man child. Also when he views you as an equal and doesn't own your soul that helps too.

Edit: Hiiiiiiii just here to say that now, in the light of day, I don't really agree with everything I've said in this post? I wrote it at midnight while like half asleep so my ability to consider the fact that. We barely know anything about either Vox or Velvette at this point in time. Was kind of impaired I think. Cuz we really don't. I do stand by everything I said about their relationship to EACHOTHER, and I stand by the idea that we should take that dynamic into consideration for character analysis more often, but everything else I'm a little iffy on and I just woke up like an hour ago so my brains still a little fuzzy & I can't explain exactly WHY I'm iffy on it, but just know that I think the conclusion I drew is a bit of a leap in logic at the very least and I recognize that now lol

#Idk I just think their dynamic is vastly underrated and should be used for character analysis more often #vox has a lot more layers then I think the fandom tends to give him credit for #because it's more fun to make Alastor body pillow jokes #which tbh I cant even be particularly mad at bcuz if ur doing it for the laughs then there's rlly no harm in the long run lol #also I just want more Velvette character analysis she's fun #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #gonna tag this as ship but platonic readings are welcome too tbh idrc #voxvel #velvox #staticdoll #late night ramblings #gal overanalyzes random shit

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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 8 months

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IDK if this is a weird request but since you've posted about Riize now... what are your opinions on their *sizes*? Like you could do a ranking or whatever... If you're comfortable with that! Sorry if this is weird LMAOOO

ILY btw 🖤

honestly, why not! and dw you're good 😸🫶🏻 ly2

admittedly, i've given it some thought before. i hope this is kind of what you were looking for? i added a bit of... opinion to it 💪🏻 if anyone wants to talk about riize, feel free to ask away!

you could say this is a.... siize ranking... hah..

smut warning!! mdni!! also dni if you're uncomfortable with this!! it's just for funsies!! and keep in mind: size doesn't matter!!

seunghan

big. BIG. huge, even. might scare you if you look at it for too long

knows how to use it, too

isn't braggy about it and knows his way around during foreplay which he labels as more important than anything else in the entire world (it might be an exaggeration)

sungchan

also big (!)

it's not that it's bad, not at all!!!!!!! he's just been proven right in the past that his size is all he needs (which we know does not work for everyone)

is very willing to learn and not at all hurt when you tell him that you might need a bit more

eunseok

humble king

knows what he has, but knows that it doesn't really matter anyway

tries to make the most of every sexual encounter, but more often than not he's a bit too lazy for anything crazy, so it's mostly just hand stuff and penetration

wonbin

prettiest dick known to mankind

like literally it's so beautiful that just by looking at it, you're already halfway there

likes giving head because he knows he looks fantastic down there. basically, it's mostly visuals > actual skill, but he still makes it work

shotaro

could literally be half his actual size and would make you finish quicker than any other man in the history of men

his hips don't lie

has stamina to the moon and back

anton

he hasn't given it much thought to be honest

for him, it's all about (soft spoken) communication, so he basically learns every skill as he goes

feel free to throw in a "you're so big" still, it's going to make him blush and he's going to think about it for the next two weeks, even if both of you know he's not that big

sohee

well, someone has to come last, right?

although, he doesn't care at all since he knows his fingers are way more flexible and able to easily reach each and every part that makes u see stars, and he is a big dry-humper anyway

his girth "makes up for it" (there is nothing to make up for, every dick is perfect the way it is 🫶🏻)

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elderwisp · 23 days

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The Creative Process ‧₊˚✩彡

Because I love to be distracted

Hi! Ok, I wanted to share wif everyone my process in which I create a story post from conception to the final post. I would say I'm a very structured person when it comes to projects like these however, I've learned a lot and maybe someone could find something useful! We'll be referencing this scene. Oke, let's start!

✩ Rough Drafts

So, of course everything starts off with a vision. While I always say, write what feels authentic to you, I also know it makes things much more difficult if you don't have a solid ground to build from. I think I've scrapped this particular story about twice already and even reshot the first chunk of Tessellate so there was a better foundation. I like to start off with understanding a character before moving onto creating a plot, otherwise people start bleed into another. Greta Gerwig makes a really awesome statement about how characters come first to her before plot. OKE with that in mind, this particular scene, I wrote it well over a year ago, however there wasn't much flow in the initial draft. In fact, the two look nothing alike. This conversation was supposed to occur during France's concert, but I moved it to to this particular scene and I'm so glad. I felt like their current relationship was strong enough to have this conversation but also it allowed me to really focus in on the two. I am a huge advocate for jotting down dialogue even if things change because you can always expand on an idea. And if things don't work, scrapping is okay, but at least you gave it a shot! After that change, I didn't revisit that scene up until about a month and a half ago. I like to let things sit for a good while. In the initial draft, Taryn was reserved throughout a majority of the conversation. There was limitations in which how I wanted her to express things but things change in a year. When I looked at her as a character and how she's progressed throughout the story, the draft no longer aligned with her lack of response. And then that created the question of what the heck does one say? Because people aren't typically very graceful or eloquent when it comes to confrontation but also we're telling a story so how do I balance the two out? Since, I've followed these little blorbos for a while, knowing their characters and motives allowed me to flesh everything out. Atlas is much more cunning than he lets on and is excellent at painting a pretty picture for those around him if it means getting what he wants. Taryn on the other hand is perceptive and unwavering so being around someone like him, someone that she finds herself slowly falling for, is a complete, well, mind fuck. We can also see from this interaction that there's a hint of feeling inadequate and the lack of confidence to know that maybe he does like her. We also see that Atlas maybe isn't the most mature when it comes to developing something real so the two have plenty to work on just from this scene alone. Like Greta Gerwig says, writing is listening.

I also wanted to mention LocalScriptMan and this video all the time because it just about changed how I viewed dialogue in general. I think it's such a great tool! I've probably shared it a billion times.

✩ Blender & Posemaking

So I would like to preface this by saying, you do not need to use blender to achieve a vision. There are still scenes that I still use poses/animations from other creators! I wanted to list a few references! Rebouks, Rascgal and Simmireen have an amazing variety of poses to use! I literally use Becca's bumper packs RELIGOUSLY! However, if you need any suggestions, SurelySim's has an excellent breakdown on getting started with posemaking from tiny details, to SimRipper and using accessories! She also talks about Vyxated's Pose Helper which is a god send! For this scene I wanted to fully pose it. In my script, I italicize anything I want to pose, I'm such a sucker for the mannerisms that people have. When words fail, body language speaks. Are they fidget-y, or do I imagine them to be more composed? Taryn's stance is grounded, she doesn't move at all in the scene except for when she leaves and I think it's a great representation of her stubbornness. Whereas Atlas is watching every single move, up until he makes his incredibly bold (ridiculous!) statement. As for emotion when he made that statement, I wanted to go with shame but then I felt like his expression radiated ruthlessness. I personally enjoyed that 10x more because it represented two things for me, his character and that he felt comfortable enough to show that part of himself. When posing a scene from start to finish, it takes me about 1-3 days depending on how complex it is. I'm a huge advocate for using references! I love referencing hands, posture, how to grab a book ANYTHING! Because this was a conversation and not much action happened, it took me about a day.

✩ Taking Screenshots and Composition

I began taking photos for this scene on March 6th. I use to use this reshade preset by growfruit however, after tinkering with some settings I use like a mish-mash blorbo of a preset. Amobae and Sforz have some cool LUT's for download (I think of it like a filter? That's probably not what it is but MEH) and I love the qUINT's lightroom shader as well. Huge advocate of relight, I was today years old when I learn that you should load it at the top of your shaders order so you don't get like a weird whitecast. These spotlights though are super fun too if you don't use reshade! There are some photographers on instagram that even go over how to use lightroom and it can translate to game as well! For the most part, I try to keep screenshots pretty simple, editing-wise but there are moments when I doodle in little hairs, add in some texture and include shadows for, uh, DRAMAAA. Lately, I've been incorporating intricate fonts because idk sometimes my brain enjoys a little graphic design moment. Sometimes shooting conversation heavy scenes can get so repetitive so I like to look at film stills on pinterest or pay close attention to a film and how they present the camera work in a conversation. Rule of thirds is a great reference tool to use, I believe GShade has a shader for that. However it's okay to experiment, it's not an end all be all. I love looking at animators and how each frame is incredibly intentional, whether it's a shot from above or a really close frame. The beginning of this scene, I honestly didn't have a clue as to how I wanted to open it up since they were walking down a hall. Then I noticed the detail in the fencing and how the tiles were opposite. Using the TOOL mod, I was able to get them both in the center and it created a strong opening shot of how different these two are.

✩ Editing

My god, I love editing but also this is usually the moment where I get so freaking distracted. This process takes me a day if I am focused.... But realistically it takes three days.... That's why I try to keep things to a minimum. I do use Photoshop. I like to use this sharpening action (the other actions are awesome too!) for story posts, I crop each photo (I use a 9:5 ratio and a 16:6 ratio if I need to focus on something specific idk why i picked those numbers yo), and add in text. Dafont has a lot of different free fonts. I like to use these little guidelines if sentences needs to be centered.

For adding umph to text, I like to use two things: The warped text option when using the type tool or just going to the distort panel and using the wave option!

Also bottom right of your layers channel is an fx layer. I like to use stroke and drop shadow on all text so it doesn't get lost within a photo!

✩ Finalization and My Schedule

That story post was uploaded on March 29th. As of right now, I like to stay three weeks ahead so I have three weeks worth of story posts marinating in my queue LMAO. I always reread things like a bajillion times, sometimes I'll go back and tweak conversations if they feel a bit stiff. Having that three week buffer also gives me time to really dedicate myself to details and focus on being present with a future scene. Another perk is, it allows me to work on cleaning up the script, plotting for future arcs, and having fun with edits. When I used to upload story videos on youtube, I didn't really plan ahead and it was so chaotic for me. Sometimes I didn't have enough time to actually create a solid episode so things felt rushed because on top of that I had a schedule I committed to. This isn't necessary but structure and patterns is something my little brain needs.

I hope this maybe provided some tips for people wanting to start out or it was just a fun little thing to read! One final OP tip is to write about something that you enjoy, something that matters to you. I'm one mf that loves a fleshed out character arc, that doesn't like linear plots and for fucks sake I love a good slow burn and I think all of that reflects a lot which helps me be engaged.

#damn me really talking about my hyperfixation with the fellow gamers #there might be hella run ons sorry my brain is a run on i don't control dat #u get one sneak peak too in the film roll #i wish i had rough drafts of dialogue but bc i use google docs i don't have any prior copies >.<#idk wtf to tag this #tessellate: extras #sims 4 story #sims 4 story tips

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ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months

Text

Between Fire and Ice

Witch x Rún X Price

You try making a fatigue potion, only for it to go very wrong...very very wrong.

This was inspired by this post by @ghouljams and since then I've been having brain rot. So enjoy this 5k not so short short fic of majority smut. I'll likely make a part two but no promises. Thanks to @ghouljams for their encouragement of my brain rot. I blame you for my Witch smut hyperfixation. Now you'll have to deal with me writing unhinged fics about her - xoxo 💋

Rún is a reader insert

This isn't canon

Warnings: MDNI, accidental self-drugging, aphrodisiac smut, degradation, oral sex (Witch and Price receiving mainly Witch though), vaginal sex, p in v sex (Witch), creamie, dry humping, orgasm denial, breeding kink, hair pulling, rough treatment, little bit of cum play, spitting, choking, Dom/Sub dynamic, Price being mean and withholding orgasms, extensive teasing, fluff, lighthearted bickering, sorry if I missed any.

Part 2

Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 5k

Your ears were buzzing, well not quite buzzing but something very similar. You could hear the blood rushing to your ears making hearing your own thoughts difficult. Trying to ground your mind was proving to be very taxing in this situation despite your best attempts at staying present. Your pounding heart definitely wasn't helping your predicament either. You try to focus on things to distract yourself like trying to identify oddities on Witch's shelf. But the smell of your dripping cunt was starting to overpower you're senses, causing your mind to go a blank.

You sit on her sofa with a towel underneath your skirt. It was just a precaution. You didn't want to stain it with your… your cum. You really shouldn't have tried making your own potion to cure tiredness, but you had seen Witch do it so many times that you thought you could pull it off without having to constantly bother her anymore. That definitely didn't go to plan. It seems you only ever make more trouble for her.

She walks back into the living room causing your blood to rush to your cheeks and ears again. You didn't know how to look at her anymore. Who would have known your potion would turn into an aphrodisiac. At least she was very understanding of the situation, even going as far as to offer you her guest room so you could "relieve" some tension as she goes about making an antidote. But you couldn't bring yourself to agree. The situation was as embarrassing as it is. You've been suffering here with heated skin and trembling legs for the past thirty minutes and the ache was just getting worse. You couldn't let her know that her proximity to you was causing spikes in your heart pounding. Sweat drips down your forehead as you watch her cipher through her books to find something.

“What were you thinking of when making the potion?”, Witch holds up the half empty bottle examining it in the light. The colour shifts from a deep magenta to a blood red.

“The cause of my sleepless nights….”, you don't need to elaborate. She understands what you mean.

“It's probably the reason the potion turned into an aphrodisiac. How are you holding up, do you want me to get you some cold water?” She looks at you with concern. You've been restless since you arrived. Your sweaty skin wasn't helping you look any better. It looked like you were going through a bad fever. She walks over and places her hand on your forehead. She radiates such warmth, making things even more difficult for you. You inhale her wildflower and rose scent. Breathing in the literal definition of summer air. There's a sweet after smell making your mouth water in need. You'd give anything to attach your mouth to her sweet honey tasting skin.

She brushes your hair away from your sweaty forehead trying to get you to focus on what she was asking you. You know she was probably checking for a fever but her soft hands were making the ache so much worse. Yet you wanted to be greedy and let her hands stay on your body for as long as possible. Even though you knew it'd cause you so much pain when she removes it. You wanted to feel them in other places. Wanted her to caress your body as she undresses you. Wanted to know how her meticulous hands would pay attention to all your curves and soft dips. How she'd play with your sensitive nipples. You snap out of thoughts when the front door abruptly opens. Price's voice rings out from the hallway before he enters the living room. He seems confused but you're too far gone to listen to more than one person at a time.

The second Witch removes her hand to turn towards him, your body feels like it's engulfed in flames. Like every nerve endings was lit like a sparkler refusing to be put out. Your mind goes blank as you squeeze your thighs together with all your might. You could feel your slick soaking your panties and skirt. If you tried standing up right now it'd probably run down your thighs ruining your stockings. Instead you clutch the sofa for dear life as you try your best to breathe through this. In…out…in…out…1…2…1…2… you shut off your mind and just focus on your breathing. You don't care about what Witch and Price are talking about. You'd prefer not having to listen to Price at all. For some reason in this state he was pissing you off even more than usual even if he wasn't actually saying anything to you. You were probably upset that he took Witch's attention from you but it's whatever.

“Rún?... Rún?...” Witch waves a hand in front of your eyes but you seem dazed. You glance at her but words don't leave your mouth. “This isn't good…Price keep an eye on her while I try to finish up the antidote”, She leaves for the kitchen before he can say much. He wasn't expecting to deal with this today. He smelled sex the second he had walked in yet it wasn't the smell of his Witch. You smelled of fresh flowers budding from winter snow, the smell of fruit just starting to bloom on trees. The smell of freshly baked goods when walking down the street, mostly sweet like vanilla or caramel.

You poor thing, accidentally making an aphrodisiac. You were that pent up huh? You needed to get dicked down, needed your pussy played with experienced hands. Maybe he could call Soap to come help you. But your friendship was only just budding. So that wasn't going to work. Also he doubted Witch would let him into her home either.

It would have been interesting walking in on Witch playing with your pussy. But that was expecting too much from her. Even after the shop incident he didn't think she believed you were sexually interested in her. Price walks over to where you sat so he can crouch down to eye level. When he does this you come out of your daze and look around before fixing him with a glare. He watches you clutch onto the sofa for dear life.

“Need some help hun?”, You glare at him before shaking your head not trusting yourself to talk anymore. Price chuckled as he made himself comfortable on the opposite end of the sofa. He shouldn't have expected a different answer. You always had your walls up high. He has never seen you in such a horny state before. You poor thing, you looked like you were in a lot of pain. It would be fun teasing you though. He doubts he'd be given another opportunity like this.

“What were you thinking about then? Was it Witch? Was it her tight little cunt you were dreaming about devouring?..Hmm?....Not going to answer me are you? Did you like imagining her playing with your little pussy.”, Price watches you squirm in place at his words as you glare at him. But he doesn't stop there; he keeps going until you have tears threatening your waterline. Oh how fun it was to watch you squirm. The living room was filled with the smell of your wet pussy. It smelled good enough to devour. He's surprised Witch didn't react to it. Probably too busy trying to help you neutralize whatever it is you drank. He keeps teasing you and teasing you until you finally break. You let out a pathetic sob from your trembling lips, while tears fell from your eyes. The sudden noise causes Witch to hurry back into the living room with urgency.

“Price! I said to keep an eye on her! Not make her cry!”, she reprimds him, clearly annoyed by his behaviour.

“I was just helping her sort through her feelings, it's not my fault she's in denial..”, Witch comes over to soothe you by petting your hair and face while you cry it out but her touch just causes you to squirm more. In the two minutes she's comforting you, smoke starts filing in from the kitchen causing everyone to direct their attention to new problem that arose.

“Oh fuck!”, the candles in the room light up as she runs to the kitchen to check on the potion with Price following closely behind to help. You knew the potion was ruined before she even said anything. The world had it out for you today it seems.

Witch immediately begins on a new one while Price promises to keep quiet for now. Twenty minutes go by and you feel like your about to pass out from dehydration. The thoughts Price put in your head were swirling and driving you absolutely insane. He painted very erotic visuals of Witch for you that you can't get out of your head. All you wanted to do was quench your thirst by attaching your mouth to Witch's cunt. Allow her sweet nectar to dissipate the ache between your legs. The breathing technique you were using wasn't helping anymore. So you had to resort to more of a drastic measure to stay somewhat sane. You hide your left arm away from Price's view, not that he was paying attention anymore. The bastard got his fill of tormenting you today it seems. He was now sitting quietly reading a book not acknowledging you anymore.

You begin to lightly claw at your arm. Not trying to draw blood just enough for the pain to distract you. It was better than feeling like your whole body was going to explode if you didn't get to cum. You claw and claw until pain is all your feelings. You don't know when or how but you begin to draw blood without realising it, too much in a fixated state to care or notice. It's only when Price has your arms in a tight hold do you realise what you're doing. He seems annoyed. You try your best to escape only for him to snap his fingers and have your arms restrained.

“Stop! I need to check if you did too much damage!”, Again Witch hears the commotion only to storm in to find Rún tied up tightly with one arm bleeding. Immediately they both spring into action Price gets some water to clean the wounds and Witch gets salve and bandages. She coos at you as you cry telling you it wasn't your fault and that she's sorry for taking so long. By the time they realise that the potion is left unattended again it's too late. You're still tied up so you won't hurt yourself again as Price tries to comfort Witch about the second burnt potion.

“You don't understand I'm out of a key ingredient and all shops are closed on Sunday” Witch sits with her head in her hands. “How am I supposed to help her now?”, Witch looks at you with pity. You squirm and cry in your restraints trying to escape the burn of the rope against your skin. The feeling was too overwhelming and you wanted out.

“I have a couple ideas….”, Witch looks at Price confused as to what he was suggesting.

You don't how things ended up like this but you weren't exactly complaining.. apart from your bound hands that is. Striped bare with only your cum stained stockings on you sat prettily on your knees in front of the sofa where Price had Witch sat on his lap. She looked embarrassed and flushed as her legs were held open for you to see her panty clad pussy. There was a wet spot developing. Price had a smug look on his face as he was the one who had situated you on your knees for Witch. If you were in your right mind you wouldn't have let him strip you. And you would have felt guilty for forcing Witch into this position but right now all you could think about was drinking her sweet juices from her cunt. You wait for permission constantly looking into her eyes then back to her pussy.

“Look at how pretty she looks on her knees for you luv. And you thought I was joking when I said she wanted to eat you out. Look at her panting like a bitch in heat begging to quench her thirst with your cum”, Witch moans at his words while you whimper for being degraded. It made you want to cry but you wanted your mouth on her pussy more. You watch Witch stutter through her words not making much sense as you watch Price move her clothed cunt over his bulge causing her to whine.

“You should offer her a drink as a good host, look at how parched she is.”

“I-I’ll get some w-wat-”, Price deliveries a mean slap to her clit making her yelp and causing her to forget all her thoughts.

“Why bother with water when there's a tap right here”, he emphasizes his words through a couple more slaps to her clit which are followed by jolts from Witch. “Get closer Rún”, You hesitate at his words, your eyes flickering to Witch's as a way of asking for her permission.

“P-price we're supposed to be helping her..”, Price removes his hand from between her legs and brings it to her throat giving it a generous squeeze. “We are helping her”, Price growls in her ear. He knew for a fact that Witch was extremely turned on by this situation, she just didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship. If only she knew the feelings were mutual on your end too.

“Are you really going to deny her in her sorry state? She's even tied up, unable to finger herself because she might try to hurt herself again. Look at her luv.. She's so pathetic.. Show her some mercy”, you feel angry tears whelm up in your tear at his words… no you weren't pathetic… you weren't…you could endure this a while longer..couldn't you?

Your teary eyes move to Witch who was also sexually frustrated by Price's teasing, probably not as much as you though. She looks at you with a conflicted expression. You didn't know what to make out of it. She didn't want you, did she? Despite how badly you wanted her you'd hate to force her to do anything she didn't want to. So you ignore Price's order to come closer and instead move further back as tears slipped down your eyes. You hang your head in shame. You're such a nuisance.

“Oh poor thing got rejected…”, Price mocks while continuing to hold Witch tightly over his hardening cock.

“No that's no-..I-I mean I don-... I just…I don't want to ruin our friendship…it's not because I don't like the idea..”, Witch stutters out. She escapes Price's hold with ease as she knees beside you wiping your tears. Having her hands cradle your face wasn't helping soothe you at all; it just made your skin burn with need causing you to grind your cunt on the wooden floor for friction as Price watches you with amusement. While Witch tries to soothe your hurt feelings, your skin felt electric where she touched you and despite the growing pain of being denied release you wanted to keep yourself close to her.

You're practically panting at this point so Price decides to step in to help everyone. He gathers Witch back into his lap with a yelp as he goes to spread her soft thighs again. Her panties are practically soaked, exuding her sweet scent. You're transfixed on the spot waiting for permission to approach, mouth becoming dry with lust. You turn your teary eyes to Witch waiting, pleading for her approval to come closer.

Finally you see her let go of her worries and match your look of desperation as she gives you a shaky nod. You waste no time in scooting over rubbing your face against her inner thighs as she lets out shaking moans.

In your excitement you bump your nose against her clit, resulting in her shivering in Price's hold. You watch Price bring his lips to her ears as he begins whispering to her, his big hand tight around her throat as he forces her eyes to stay on what you're doing. You pepper her inner skin with plenty of kisses, your own need on the back burner for now. You've been desiring this for so long, that this moment didn't feel real. This moment never seemed attainable to you. And all it took was a potion mishap.

The first taste of her sweet flesh entered your mouth as you lap at the skin sucking hickies on the sensitive area. Both of your groans ring out throughout the room making you redouble your efforts before finally attaching your mouth to her wet panties. You lick at the clothing, desperately trying to feel her heat through the fabric. Inhaling the scent of her dripping cunt greedily.

It was hard enough doing this with hands tied but it was harder when Price started using names to degrade you as you lapped at her wet panties. He made sure you knew you were pleasuring his Witch, which just made you glare at him, not that he cared he continued to call you mean names. ‘Cumdrunk whore’ ‘Nasty little slut’ and ‘Pathetic slag’ were among the names he started calling you.

It fucked with your brain and made you lose your rhythm, and you think that what Price wanted. Because the third time Witch had let out a needy whine after you failed to make her cum Price's hand had already snaked his way in your hair creating a tight fist. He pulls your head back causing both you and Witch to groan out infrustration. He pulls her panties aside before shoving your face deeper into her cunt. You couldn't even be mad because you finally get your tongue in which causes her to writhe and squeal in Price's lap

“Do your job properly slag or you won't be cuming today." He groans out bucking his hips into Witch's ass while maintaining his hold on your hair.

“P-price don't be so m-mean…we're supposed to be…helping her”, Witch can't seem to get a complete sentence out of her mouth without whimpering in between. You suck and flatten your tongue against her her swollen needy clit. Doing your best to bring her to the edge. It would have been much easier if you could use your hands but the bindings were painfully tight against your wrist. Price really outdone himself. You try pulling and tugging at them but they just rub your skin raw. The bandages were becoming itchy too, due to you sweating so much. The sweat ran down stinging the claw marks you left. Though it was a nice distraction from Price's mean words.

You work her clit with rough and soft licks before drilling your tongue into her leaking pussy. You gulp down her sweet nectar like it's the source of all life. Like it was the fountain of youth. Like it was an elixir that would grant you immortality. You feel her walls beginning to clench and flutter as your tongue goes in and out of her. You start using your nose to bump her clit from time to time watching her shake and shudder from what you were doing. She was close, you knew she was close and all you wanted to do was feel her tight cunt flood your mouth with her cum. Make her soak your face in her release as she drowns you in her scent, marks you with her flavour.

One more bump of your nose and you'd achieve your goal, you could feel the pride swelling in your chest as you think about making Witch cum on your tongue alone. But of course like everything else nothing was going your way today. Price's fist tightens, causing the back of your head to burn with pain. He yanks your mouth off Witch a second before you're about to make her come. Immediately Witch let's out a heartbreaking hiccup. And all you could do was watch on with teary frustrated eyes. Fucking Prick. He's such a dick for taking this away from you.

“No no…please no..Price…please.”, You watch Witch plead with Price to let you make her cum but he just shushes her.

“It's ok.. it's ok.. she'll just have to make you come while my cock is inside you luvie. It's unfair if it's only you two having fun. Especially when I'm the one doing so much of the work.”

You watch Witch beg him for release as he coos and shushes her. She goes limp in his arms. He uses his other hand to unbutton his slacks as he fishes out his large veining cock. The one that you've been ignoring completely in favour of Witch's cunt despite it being directly below her.

Within seconds he's forcing you to watch him bully his fat cock head into her tight hole. It causes her stomach to bulge with his shape as you whimper and whine at the sight. Only getting a glimpse of his angry leaking head before it disappears into her tight little hole with one hard thrust. Within seconds he's stretching her spasming walls over his veiny rod. Stupid asshole. You whine and whimper even more as he begins fucking her in earnest despite having one hand still tightly gripping your hair. You try batting your teary eyes at Witch to get Price to loosen his grip so you could back to pleasuring her. But all she could do was lightly tap the arm holding you but the grip stayed.

“If you want something you ask for it like a good girl Rún..I'm in charge here”, Price makes eye contact with you as he continues hammering his hips up against Witch's dripping cunt while she continues to moan. Her clit was particularly swollen with no one to pay attention to it since your hands were tied. His blue eyes pierced into yours causing you to shudder with need. You wanted to cry out of frustration for not being allowed to participate despite it being you who drank the aphrodisiac. Why was he trying to be nice now? He's been degrading you the second you mouth touched Witch. Was it because you didn't follow his orders? Was it because you touched Lio without getting his permission? Or was it because you solely paid attention to her while you were ignoring him out of anger?

You watch Witch with hunger as she gets her insides rearranged with a fat girthy cock drilling into her without mercy. A strange sense of jealousy fills you. Not only because it wasn't you making Witch a babbling mess but also because your insides felt so empty. Your pussy was making a puddles on the ground below you. You hadn't realised how badly you were trying to ignore it until now. It made you rock your hips harder to gain some friction on the floor. Which didn't go unnoticed to Price. You watch his expression soften while he continues to use one hand on Witch to make her grind on his cock, forcing her to slow down when she was close to cuming. You tear up at the sight of them fucking without you, which makes Price look at you with pity.

“What is it sweet girl? What do you need?”, Price coos at you. Witch is too far gone to say anything but she does look down at you apologetically for not being able to help. Your eyes go back and forth from her eyes and Price's then back to where Price cock is buried deep within her. You couldn't take it anymore, you needed something, anything to lessen the feeling that was ever present in your drooling cunt.

“Want..want.. to make Witch cum…please”, you whisper out in desperation. You wanted to cum too but you weren't going to ask for that. They shouldn't have to deal with your problems so pleasing Witch was enough.

“That's it? That's all our pretty girl wants?”, you hesitate before nodding your head as much as you can with Price gripping it. Price looks at you with such pity it makes you want to hide somewhere. Away from his prying eyes. Away from his piercing gaze. He was so in tune with everything around him, it made you feel uneasy. Like you were a pawn in a game only he knew how to play. Like knew exactly what to do to get you begging for him prettily. You feel him loosen and let go of his grip around your hair. He caresses your head softly as he grabs a cushion to throw it between your legs. Where your glistening pussy was on display for them. How needy and desperate it looked, as it dripped your cum onto the floor and now the cushion.

“You can help Witch cum if you grind on that while doing it…understand?”, he removes his hand completely from you as you watch his hands trail over Witch's body only for him to rip open the bodice of her dress as she whines further. You watch her beautiful supple breasts spill out. You watch Price give them a generous squeeze as he palms them into his large hands. You watch transfixed her breast bouncing with every thrust from Price's cock. But before you can scoot yourself closer Price's voice rings out.

“You didn't answer Rún…Do you want to be punished?”, you shake your head in fear of being denied the pleasure you sought. “Will you obey orders then?”, Price's thrusts don't falter for a second as continues his conversation with you. You give a final glance to Witch's disheveled state, you make up your mind convinced you would die if you didn't get your mouth on her again.

“Y-yes sir…”, you scoot closer and this time he doesn't stop you but he does have a gentle smile on his face as your mouth finds Witch's clit again. She flinches the second you mouth it on her, her hands finding themselves tightly wound in your hair as she bucks her hips against you. Your mouth fills with the essence of Witch again only this time Price's musk is mixed in too. The combination causing your mind to short circuit, turning your brain to mush. You can't help but lower your hips to the cushion to grind against it though a bit clumsily. You aren't really sure what you're doing but it feels good to have your mouth on Witch again while stimulating your clit feels even better.

Price watches you with fondness as you lap at where Him and Witch are connected, making sure to dip down to lick and suck his full balls while you're at it. You let your mouth lick from the bottom of his balls to the top of Witch's clit making sure to give them equal attention as you move your hips clumsily against the cushion.

It was tough going to get here but it was all worth it for Price. Price feels your hot tongue lapping at Witch's clit, making her buck and press down harder on her engorged cock. He felt his swollen head kiss her cervix as she let out a series of ‘please’, ‘more’ and ‘fuck’. He made sure her breasts were getting ample attention, knowing she was close to cumming any second now. He redoubles his thrust making sure the slap of their skin meeting was evident for everyone to hear. She was clutching him like was wanted to be bred, like she wanted her stomach swollen with his kids. And that's exactly what he whispers as his hands find themselves around her throat again as she pleads for his cum. You also redouble your efforts seeing that Witch's movements were becoming sloppy as her legs began to shake. You watch through hooded eyes as Price forces every inch of his fat cock inside with a brutal thrust causing Witch to yelp in need. She twitches from her orgasm after one final hard suck to her swollen needy clit sends her and Price over the edge.

You watch them shudder from release as cum floods around Price's cock while you eagerly lap it up like a dog starved. Making sure every drop lands on your tongue.

"Keep it in you mouth until I tell you to swallow", you let it sit there savouring it's taste at Price's command. Once the cum gathers you open your mouth obediently to show Witch and Price at his request.

"Open wider for us hun, we want to see properly", you do as he says showing them your coated tongue for their amusment. He looks at you proudly when you obey while Witch looks like she's about to cum on the spot again. Price crouches down a little, taking your jaw in his calloused hand to spit in your mouth while Witch watches.

"Swallow", you do so immediately showing your clean tongue after you've savoured the taste in your mouth. Witch lets out a breathy moan at your obedience. Your still cum drunk though and craving more, so you try satiating yourself by kissing where Price and Witch are still connected.

After a while Witch's whines softly unable to take the added stimulation of you kissing where her and Price are connected, forcing Price grab your head softly to move you away. You take the hint and move back, eyes hooded with lust as you gaze upto Witch's soft body limp in Price's arms while licking the residual cum of your lips.

Price pulls out with a hiss the squelch of the cum dripping from her was very evident. You wanted to lick her clean. But you doubted she could take any more simulation right now. Her pussy must be sore after such a hard fucking. Price gently moves her to sit on the sofa as you rest your head beside where she is. Your nose nuzzling against her hand for comfort as she smiles at you exhausted while brushing your hair out of your face. You stay resting as you lick your lips and try to get your breathing under control. Your body still felt way too hot and way too cold at times. The knot in your abdomen still felt sore and tightly wound since you hadn't come but having the chance to pleasure Witch was far more rewarding than any orgasm.

Without warning your binds disappear releasing the tension in your sore shoulders and arms as Price grabs your body to place on the couch between them. He wraps a blanket around you three making sure everyone was situated comfortably. You're sandwiched in their hold as Witch moves herself to lay her head on your shoulder. As she gently runs her hands across your marked wrists and arm. The affection is sweet and you absolutely love it when Witch shows it to you. But your mind was occupied by the guilt seeping in. For being so needy. For forcing this situation on them. For being a nuisance. You try moving away so they can cuddle together but Price holds you down making your cunt clench even harder reminding of your ongoing predicament.

“Don't run away Rún we still need to take care of you..You deserve a reward for being so patient”, Witch says while meeting your eyes and all you could see was love and care which just made your heart ache. You didn't deserve it.

“Oh no.. that's ok..I'm ok..you don-”, your words are cut off my Witch kissing your cheeks as she holds your body closer to hers making sure you feel her warmth.

“Do as you told Rún…we'll take care of you in a bit..just let me clean Witch up and we'll make you feel good too. Good girls like you deserve at least that much”, You're speechless at his words and you don't know what to say. His behaviour is so different from how it had started. He was being so much sweeter than before, so much so that it was becoming hard to hate him. Watching them look at you with so much adoration was making your heart flutter and your eyes water. So you just end up just burying your face into Witch's chest to hide yourself as they hold you close to them. There was a new sensation developing in your heart...you didn't know what to make of it....

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talktolwt · 10 months

Text

I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home.

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too.

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones.

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate. He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other?

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher.

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung.

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content.

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all.

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop.

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know.

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do.

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces.

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he?

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does.

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do.

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here.

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean.

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do.

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment.

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

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