#and me focusing on it is missing the point of the series - drama

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part eight: "The First Date"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt finally have a first date.

Or

Matt has you thinking about his ass. A lot.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: Just now realizing all of you on tumblr will not get to witness the novels in my end notes that a lot of y'all love to tease me about over on AO3...maybe that's for the best! Enjoy the cute fluffy first date between Reader and Matt! And you can find the list of installments that are currently posted on tumblr for this series here! Enjoy because there's literally so many more of these I have yet to transfer over...

You were focused on sautéing the pan of vegetables while simultaneously keeping an eye on the pot of water you were waiting to reach a boil. 

It was Wednesday night, a few days after you’d returned from Foggy and Marci’s wedding. The pair of them were off at some island resort right now for the next two weeks for their honeymoon. After returning home the other night, you hadn’t heard much from Matt; him and Karen had been swamped at the office without Foggy and you had begun to think the date he’d talked about for this weekend wasn’t going to happen at this point. 

You’d also been busy today at The Bulletin and were currently still a bit frazzled from all of the run around. Some last minute political drama had occurred and Ellison had called for an all-hands-on-deck approach, which had meant you’d gotten off work late. Though Katy hadn’t missed her opportunity to grill you again about the weekend, and then she’d grilled you quite in depth about just how great of a kisser Matt really was. 

The pot on the stove decided it had reached a boil at almost the exact same time your phone started to ring on the counter behind you. With a huff you turned and quickly snatched the phone off of the counter, not bothering to check the screen to see who was calling before accepting the call. You assumed it was once again Katy with with more news on the political drama front and another excuse to grill you about Matt. You immediately wedged the phone between your ear and shoulder as you grabbed the box of soba noodles from beside the stove.

“So help me if you ask me about his ass one more time, Katy,” you said, tearing open the box of noodles, "I'm going to steal your yogurt. And I know how protective you are over your yogurt."

“Who’s ass?” Matt’s curious voice came through the line. “Mine? Or do I need to be concerned about competition?”

You nearly yelped when you heard his voice, dropping the noodles a bit too abruptly into the boiling water so that some of the water splashed onto your arm.

“Son of a bitch,” you cursed under your breath, pulling your arm back and rubbing where the water had burned you.

“Sweetheart?” Matt asked over the line.

“Sorry, I–I thought you were Katy,” you muttered, embarrassed. “And I just felt the vengeful wrath of some boiling water.”

“You okay?” he asked in concern.

“Yeah, fine,” you answered, stirring the pot of noodles.

He cleared his throat, the tone of his voice becoming a mixture of cocky and amused when he spoke again. “So you’re discussing my ass I take it?” he asked.

You paled, turning your back to rest against the counter as you awkwardly bit your thumbnail. “Katy was asking about my weekend at the wedding, and I told her that we…kissed.”

“Ahh,” he responded. “But what does that have to do with my ass?”

You rolled your eyes feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Nothing, she just didn’t believe nothing more happened with us sharing a bed. So she’s been asking me a million questions.”

“About my ass?” he pressed.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, a hand rubbing at your forehead nervously as you cringed. “You have a really nice ass, Matt, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear me say?” 

“Do I?” he teased in a smug tone. “I wouldn’t know, I can’t see it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” you asked him flatly.

“A little,” he admitted. “But you sound distracted, what’s wrong?”

“You heard the news today, right?” you asked him, chewing your nail again.

“That scandal? With the senator?” he clarified.

“Mhmm, yeah. It’s been a crazy day at the office because of it. I just got home a bit ago,” you told him.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time to call?” he asked.

“No, no you’re fine,” you assured him. “I’m just a little all over the place." You continued to anxiously gnaw on your nail, brows creasing together as you eyed the outdated tile of your kitchen floor. "What’d you call for? Not that I don't, you know, enjoy you calling,” you quickly added, "I just assumed there was a reason since I know you've been swamped, too."

“I wanted to see if you were still interested in going out this weekend,” he told you. “Saturday night? For dinner?”

“Oh,” you said, pleasantly surprised and thrilled that the date was indeed still happening. You opened your mouth to answer, but the sound of water loudly boiling over and the flames of the burner hissing under the pot drew your attention back to the noodles you’d been cooking. “Shit, no,” you groaned, racing over to the stove and lowering the flame before grabbing a spoon.

“No?” Matt asked hesitantly.

“What?” you asked distractedly, stirring the noodles.

"No you don't want to go out Saturday night with me?" he questioned carefully.

You shook your head quickly, setting the spoon back down. "No, no I meant yes," you told him.

"I am thoroughly confused now," he said with a faint chuckle.

You inhaled deep before blowing out the breath, trying to focus your mind on the conversation. "Yes, Matt, I would really like to go out with you Saturday night. Sorry, I got distracted with a pot of noodles."

"More or less distracted than you are by my ass?" he teased.

" Matt ," you nearly hissed, embarrassed. 

He laughed lightly over the line and you couldn't fight the smile on your face at the sound despite your embarrassment. 

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, his laughter dying down. "How does that Thai restaurant by my place sound? I know you like it."

You smiled, nerves flooding your stomach at the thought of a date with him this weekend. "It sounds great," you answered softly. 

"I can meet you at your place," he offered. "At seven? We can walk there and I can walk you home?"

"That honestly sounds perfect," you replied. 

"Good, because I'm looking forward to it," he admitted, a smile in his voice.

"I am too, Matt. I really– motherfucker ," you cursed under your breath when the pot began to boil over again. "These damn noodles tonight!"

Matt barked out a laugh over the phone as you stirred the pot again, momentarily lowering the flame. 

"I'm going to stop distracting you," he said. "I'll see you Saturday at seven?"

"As long as I haven't burned my apartment down with these damn noodles," you answered. "I'll see you Saturday."

You chewed the bite of pad thai, thoughtfully thinking over the question Matt had posed. After a moment you swallowed, finally having an answer.

"Waitress," you said.

Matt snickered, dark brows rising above his glasses. "Wow, you were aiming high," he teased. 

"I was nine!" you shot back. "And the question was the weirdest thing you wanted to be when you grew up. They seemed nice, how was I supposed to know it wasn't a viable career choice?" You gestured your chopsticks at Matt as you asked, "What about you?"

"Dog groomer," he answered. 

"Wow, pretty quick with that one," you joked. "Just because you liked dogs?"

"Yeah," he answered, his chopsticks picking up some noodles from his plate. "Before the heightened senses, too. Probably would be torture to endure that now." He pulled a face. "Wet dog is not a pleasant smell, I can assure you."

You lightly tapped your chopsticks to your lips, eyes narrowed as you tried to think of another ridiculous question for the strange game you'd found yourselves in. "If you could have a lifetime supply of anything, what would it be?" you finally asked.

His head tilted to the side as he chewed, brows furrowing behind the red lenses. You picked up more noodles and tossed them into your mouth.

"Coffee," he answered. "I pretty much live on that now."

"Mmm, don't we all," you mumbled.

"Your turn to answer," he pointed out, shooting you a grin from across the table.

"Coffee was a good answer but…” you trailed off for a moment in thought. “I don't know, the only things I can think of would be terrible unless they were magically healthy," you decided.

"Like what?" he asked curiously.

"Mint ice cream, but a lifetime supply sounds like a terrible dietary decision," you replied.

Matt snorted into his water cup as he took a drink. "Why mint ice cream?" he asked as he set the glass back down. "Mint is like the toothpaste of the dessert world."

Your jaw dropped, your chopsticks full of noodles hovering just before your mouth. " Excuse me ?" you asked in mock offense. "Mint is literally the best combination with chocolate."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "I think you mean to say peanut butter is," he corrected. 

You shot him a flat look, lowering the chopsticks. "I said what I said, Matt."

"Alright, alright," he appeased, holding a hand up. "I suppose it means you'll at least taste like toothpaste when I kiss you afterwards."

Your cheeks reddened as your eyes dropped down to your plate, your chopsticks nervously pushing a few noodles around a piece of tofu.

"Kissing me still makes you nervous?" he asked curiously, his own chopsticks lowering as he focused on you across the table, his head tilted to the side.

Your left hand tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, your gaze still on the plate before you. "I mean, sort of. But also, I'm now paranoid about the fact that I'm eating this and you’re probably going to think I have terrible breath afterwards," you admitted. 

Matt snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “No, really, I won’t. If anything you’re just going to taste exactly like the pad thai you’re eating,” he told you. “And lucky for you, I quite enjoy pad thai.” He shot you a coy smirk across the table, one that had the heat rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “I quite enjoy it a lot, actually.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes dropping back down to your plate. “I get a feeling you’re not talking about pad thai here,” you muttered nervously.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed.

Your eyes flew up from under your lashes, gazing at him nervously across the table. He stared at you behind the red lenses of his glasses for a long moment, neither of you eating. You could feel your breath coming in short under his stare. Half of you wanted to climb into his side of the booth and finish what you'd almost started Sunday morning in the hotel room, the other half of you wanted to go hide in the women's restroom for ten minutes trying to calm your racing heart and nerves.

Thankfully Matt cleared his throat, readjusting his glasses on his face and going back to his food. You felt the tension in your shoulders lessen now that his gaze had been diverted, as if he’d done that on purpose. Which, considering he was probably reading your body like a confusing book, he probably did.

“What’s your go-to excuse for getting out of plans?” he asked, scooping up more noodles and continuing the strange game of questions.

You tapped your chopsticks nervously on your plate for a moment, trying to recover from whatever that had just been. “You trying to keep it in mind in case I use it on you?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

He grinned as he chewed, shrugging a single shoulder. “Maybe,” he answered.

“Depends,” you began to sheepishly admit, “I usually say I have a dentist appointment I forgot about.”

“But that wouldn’t work on a Sunday,” he pointed out.

“Well I guess people don’t think of calling me on Sundays with things I want to get out of,” you joked back.

Matt shot you a playful look across the table as he leaned forward and asked, “Do you want to go skydiving with me this coming Sunday?”

“Hmm,” you said, exaggeratedly tapping your chin with a finger. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a dentist appointment on Sunday. You know, my dentist works twenty-four seven so I’m definitely not available.”

“Sounds like a busy man,” Matt teased with a suggestive smile.

Your eyes widened and you ducked your head, snorting out a laugh. Quickly you threw up a hand to cover your mouth.

“You don’t need to hide your laugh,” he told you, raising a hand and gesturing towards you. “I notice you often cover your face when you do. I think the little snorts are cute.”

“And just like that I feel like a farm animal,” you half-joked under your breath, face burning up.

He shook his head, his attention returning to his food. “You don’t need to be so self-conscious. I’ve heard that laugh a lot over this past year and I love it every time I do.”

You raised a hand to your burning cheeks, your ears definitely picking up on the way he’d said he loved it and not liked it. Nervously licking your lips, you asked him, “So what’s your usual go-to excuse?”

“Usually just that I lost track of time,” he admitted. “Which is easy to do when you can’t see the time plastered everywhere like everyone else can.”

Your cheeks were still burning as you tried to think of another question, and then your brain came up with something ridiculous and you blurted, “Would you rather fight a single horse-sized duck, or one-hundred duck sized horses?” 

Matt sat up abruptly in the booth, his head momentarily turning to the side as he eyed you. “That is a…very interesting question.”

“In the year that you’ve known me,” you asked him, “would you honestly expect anything else?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, and I’d be disappointed with anything less. I’d go with the horse-sized duck. Even though that’s terrifying to think of a duck that large attacking me.”

Your eyes narrowed as you took a sip of water, swallowing the liquid quickly before you set the glass back down. “You’ve told me you fought ninjas," you pointed out, "but a horse-sized duck is what terrifies you?”

“The one-hundred duck-sized horses attacking me would actually be more terrifying,” he admitted.

“Agreed,” you said. “I’d have much more luck running from a single giant angry duck.”

Matt’s hand reached across the small table, searching for a moment along the surface for the hand you had resting near your plate. Hesitantly you slid it closer to him, allowing him to grab it. His large, warm hand fully covered yours, a strange feeling stirring in your chest at the contact. As you stared at your connected hands, your heart began to beat a bit faster. Slowly your eyes slid up to Matt’s face where he was clearly fighting back a laugh. The sight only further stirred that strange feeling in your chest.

“I’ll protect you from the giant ducks, sweetheart,” he promised you, looking like he was fighting a losing battle with his laughter.

“Much appreciated,” you said with a grin.

Dinner continued on with the two of you finishing your game of questions before discussing how work had been this week. You'd told him more about the scandal that you were still hovering over your phone for news on, and Matt had told you about some of the things he was juggling while Foggy was on his honeymoon. Over this past year you'd already gotten to know most of the normal first date questions about each other's careers, families, and hobbies–which for Matt really just consisted of dressing up as Daredevil and beating criminals. You knew he'd intentionally tried to keep things light because you'd admitted to being nervous when he'd picked you up. Though, you were sure he was already aware of that before you even told him.

You were leading him out of the restaurant with his hand holding the crook of your arm now, a large smile on both of your faces. You’d enjoyed dinner and the jokes back and forth, and judging from how much laughing Matt had been doing, you’d assumed he’d enjoyed dinner, too.

"Hang on, let me get the door," you said, moving towards it once you’d reached the exit.

Matt gently tugged your arm back, shooting you a charming smile that had your stomach flipping as he released his hold on you and stepped forward, pressing his hand into the door and opening it for you.

"Maybe I want to get it for you this time," he pointed out as you stepped through. 

"Thank you," you said softly, stepping outside.

The night was warm as you awkwardly crossed your arms over your chest. Matt released the door and joined you on the sidewalk, holding out one of his hands towards you while the other held tight to his cane.

"I've walked you home or to your office countless times before," Matt said, "and I've always wanted to just hold your hand instead of your arm. Would that be okay?"

Your eyes fell to his awaiting hand. Without even having to think about it, you easily slipped your hand into his, enjoying the way the smile stretched further across Matt’s mouth when you did. He pulled you closer towards him, your shoulders brushing as he began to lead you both back towards your apartment. You were too busy gnawing on your lip, overly aware of each of his fingers interlocked between yours and wondering if you’d get an opportunity to kiss him again before the night ended–even if you were still worrying about having pad thai breath–to think of something to talk about.

“I enjoyed your company this evening,” Matt said, breaking the silence after a few minutes had passed.

“I enjoyed your company, too,” you admitted.

Matt’s hand gently squeezed yours and you smiled, your attention turning on him. His cane was lightly tapping along the sidewalk in front of him and there was a large smile spread across his own face underneath his glasses. He looked happy and that made your heart flutter in your chest. His gaze abruptly turned on you as he walked, the full weight of that bright smile nearly knocking you off your feet. 

“I like you,” Matt admitted. “Quite a lot, actually.”

“I like you, too, Matt,” you whispered.

His hand squeezed yours again and your stomach practically somersaulted in response. Briefly you wondered if he could hear some version of what he was doing to you.

“Enough to get me a second date?” he asked hopefully, his brows rising behind his glasses.

You laughed lightly, your eyes landing on the sidewalk in front of you as you walked. “Yes, definitely enough to get you a second date,” you agreed.

“Too early to ask for a third date?” he asked.

You laughed a little harder, your apartment building unfortunately coming into view as you did. “You might want to see if you still want that after a second date,” you told him.

“I’m already trying to plan a fourth date, actually,” Matt teased you.

Your cheeks flushed yet again this evening. How was it possible this wonderful man liked you so much? And how the hell had it taken you so long to realize it?

“This is me,” you mumbled, coming to a stop in front of your building. 

The two of you paused on the sidewalk, you turning and reluctantly releasing his hand as you faced him. You glanced up at him, your heart racing as you chewed the inside of your cheek. Should you invite him up? Were you even ready for what that actually entailed? Was he? You’d been wanting to sleep with Matt for so long, but now that the possibility of it was glaring you in the face, you were nervous. When was the last time you’d shaved? Was there a way to brush your teeth first so he didn’t just taste pad thai when he kissed you? Could he tell you hadn’t had a chance to do the dishes yet if he came up? Were your non-silk sheets going to be too scratchy for him to want to have sex on? Would he–

“Sweetheart, I can practically feel your body working itself up with a thousand thoughts at once,” he said lightly, his voice cutting through all the noise in your head.

You smiled sheepishly back at him, your arms nervously crossing over your chest again. “How can you possibly tell that?”

“Your heart rate increased the moment you let go of my hand,” he told you, a finger pointing at your chest. “Your blood pressure is elevated as well your body temperature. You’re rigid and you’ve been chewing the side of your mouth for a minute now nonstop. I can smell the adrenaline coming off you in waves.”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

He shook his head, stepping towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t apologize, just take a deep breath. You don’t need to be so nervous,” he assured you.

“Easier said than done,” you muttered.

“What’s got you so worked up?” he asked.

That question had you even more nervous. You couldn’t exactly lie because Matt would know–not that you wanted to lie to him. But telling him you were standing here wondering if you should ask him to come up to your apartment, which you were sure would translate to having sex, had made you wonder if your legs were recently shaved enough or if he’d find them prickly with his extra senses. Or that–

“Sweetheart,” Matt said, an amused smile on his face. “You’re doing it again.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” you mumbled. Opting for the truth you said, “I was just contemplating inviting you up.”

“Were you?” he asked slowly, still smiling in amusement. “And apparently that has your body going into fight or flight?”

“Apparently,” you muttered under your breath, nervously tucking hair behind your ear.

Matt opened his mouth, about to speak, but the sound of your ringtone swiftly cut him off. You watched his mouth close, his head tilting to the side. You cringed, internally cursing whoever was calling you right now though you assumed it was probably work. You reached into your purse and pulled out your phone. Sure enough it was Katy calling you.

“It’s work,” you said with a sigh. “That scandal has really been a pain in my ass this week.”

“I can wait if you need to answer it,” he told you.

“I probably should with what’s been going on,” you told him reluctantly. “Normally I’d ignore it, though. This just feels rude.”

He waved a dismissive hand, shooting you a smile. “I can wait a few minutes, really,” he assured you.

“I’ll just be a moment,” you said. You stepped a half step back, turning to face the street as Matt stood nearby. “What’s going on, Katy?” you asked into the phone. “The office better be on fire or something right now.”

“No, but this story is,” Katy said over the line. “So the senator’s mistress has finally been named and there’s a prostitution rumor going around that’s about to be corroborated. Ellison needs everyone back in for a quick re-work before the paper hits the printers tonight. I tried my best to cover for you because I know you had that hot date,” she said, and you instantly heard Matt chuckle beside you, no doubt hearing everything she was saying, “but I couldn’t cover for you much longer. You’re needed. Ellison will probably murder you himself if you’re not here soon.”

Your eyes snapped shut, your shoulders slumping. Well that ruined your plans of potentially sleeping with Matt. 

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” you told her.

“Great, I’ll let bossman know,” Katy answered. “And hey, are you still with Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest attorney-at-law?”

Your cheeks reddened as you heard Matt chuckle beside you again. “Yes, Katy, I need to hang up so I can say goodbye,” you told her impatiently.

“Right, well, can you do me a favor and ask him how much for a baker’s dozen?” she asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the ground before you. “What?” you asked her. “I’m not following.”

She scoffed on the line and you imagined her rolling her eyes at you. “Come on, that man has a whole ass bakery back there, girl.”

Your eyes closed as you heard Matt bark out a laugh beside you. Katy quickly cursed over the phone before laughing herself.

“Shit, did you accidentally have me on speakerphone?” she asked, still laughing.

“No, but I might as well have,” you muttered under your breath. “I’m going to hang up and see you in fifteen. Can you please refrain from discussing my date’s ass the rest of the evening?”

“Probably not,” she answered instantly. “See you soon. Grab a handful of cake for me on your way over.”

“Fucking hell,” you cursed, hanging up the phone and stuffing it into your purse.

Matt was still laughing as you awkwardly turned towards him, embarrassed even though you technically hadn’t done anything.

“I like her, she’s amusing,” Matt said. “Though I don’t know why she’s so into my ass.”

“Because you have a nice ass,” you mumbled, noticing his smile widen. “But I unfortunately have to get back to the office, as you heard.”

“Well then I guess this is where I say goodnight, unless you’d like me to walk you?” he offered.

You shook your head quickly. “No, really, it’s two blocks and I’ll probably grab a taxi back after. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, can you text me when you get there and back home later?” he asked. “I don’t care what time it is. I’ll worry otherwise.”

“I suppose I don’t need you throwing on your suit and hunting me down,” you joked lightly. “Yeah, I can text you.”

Matt closed the distance between the two of you, a warm smile on his face. “I had a good night and I look forward to doing it again with you,” he said softly.

“Me too,” you admitted.

“Do I need to give you a warning before I kiss you so you don’t run away on me?” he joked. “Or am I at a point where I can just kiss you when I want to?”

“You can just–just kiss me,” you breathed out, your eyes instantly darting to his mouth.

“Good to know,” he whispered.

One of his hands reached out and lightly drew your face towards his. Your eyes fluttered closed just before his mouth was on yours. You could feel your stomach excitedly somersaulting inside of you, your hands hesitantly reaching up and landing on Matt’s dress shirt, steadying yourself against him. His mouth was somehow making you lightheaded with the way he was kissing you so sweetly, his lips moving carefully along yours. 

You felt his other hand at your lower back, drawing you in closer towards him until your hands snaked their way around his neck, your chests lightly pressed together. You were certain he could not only hear your heart hammering away in your chest now, but that he could probably feel it slamming into his own through the front of your shirt. 

Eventually he broke away, resting his forehead to yours. You saw the smile on his face and couldn't resist your own in return. 

"Tonight was perfect," he whispered. "I'll call you soon to find another time to go out?"

Your bottom lip rolled into your teeth as you nodded your head. Matt pulled his forehead from yours, soon replacing it with a warm, lingering kiss from his lips.

"Text me so I know you're safe?" he reminded me.

"I will, Matty," you promised. 

He pulled away, your own arms falling back to your sides as he did. There was a cheeky smile that gradually spread over his face as he gazed down at you behind the dark glasses. 

"What?" you asked him after a moment, brows creasing together. 

"You need a slice of cake before you go?" he teased. 

Your face flamed as your jaw dropped, embarrassed to the point of speechlessness. Matt barked out a laugh as you tried to recover. Your hands flew to your face as you turned a fraction away from him, too embarrassed to even look at him.

"I'll be the one making front page of The Bulletin tomorrow," you said, voice muffled behind your hands. "For killing Katy."

[rayshippouuchiha]

Okay for the other Voidling that wanted reluctantly falling in love SukuIta and it Changes things I think I grabbed some that mostly fit the prompt:

One of my personal favs is Cogni_Diss’ I Understand Why You missed The Light On Your Skin and its sequel:https://archiveofourown.org/series/3313354

One Life, One Encounter by The_Rose_That_Blooms is Canon Divergence but has good pacing and slow build, it’s more slice of life but doesn’t forget it’s Jujutsu Kaisen fanfic:https://archiveofourown.org/works/38959080?view_full_work=true#kudos

The Greatest Curse of All by CB_Magique also fits the other Voidling wanting angst but it is more relationship focused angst and is SukuIta. You have to be logged in to read this one. It’s also loosely base/inspired by another fic called Crossfire by FanfictionWriter666. They are also Omega Verse fics:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53330161?view_full_work=true#kudos

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43654245?view_full_work=true#kudos

Now for the purely angsty, unfortunately most of those are locked behind a language barrier if there are any that aren’t relationship centered but I do have a few I love that have deep angst in them and a lot of whump in some cases. The first is also a slow burn but it’s less reluctantly falling and more Sukuna takes advantage and Yuuji lets him.

Acts of Service by holly_fandom takes the reasonable argument of hey maybe we shouldn’t get close to someone slated to die who also has a very malevolent Curse inside them and runs with it:https://archiveofourown.org/works/53783410?view_full_work=true#kudos

Dogs of War by pseudonyme is GoYu and is angsty as hell. It’s Omega Verse and looks at the power play between those with power and wealth and those without. It’s a spicy slow burn filled with angst, drama, and intrigue:https://archiveofourown.org/works/52219939?view_full_work=true#kudos

The Devil Snatched Me Away and Bite the Forbidden Fruit by HeadlessKing are both fantastic and have an undercurrent of angst and tension, both are SukuIta. The first is a mysterious fast burn romance where Yuuji and Co are ordinary humans and Sukuna is still the King of Curses, whom Yuuji has a past he cannot remember with. The second is Omega Verse and is twincest and how Yuuji and Sukuna are deeply codepenant and obessed with each other. Both are angsty and have Yuuji dealing with some identity issues.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51989029?view_full_work=true#kudos

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55068316?view_full_work=true#kudos

Misplaced Faith by Cogni_Diss is Yuuji angst from Sukuna’s point of view (with his own angst thrown in):https://archiveofourown.org/works/45057391#kudos

Some additional stuff by Cogni_Diss that doesn’t exactly fit but might help scratch the itch for both are:

When it Rains it Pours, Yuuji gets physically deaged but not mentally and KuroKuna (MegKuna) is the one to find him first:https://archiveofourown.org/works/55453804?view_full_work=true#kudos

Would A Few Minutes More Really Be So Bad? Yuuji wakes up from his weird dream of being a Sorcerer, or does he? Was that the dream or is he trapped in a new one with a kinder Sukuna? This one is more the implied angst and the Thoughts TM of is it real or is it not:https://archiveofourown.org/works/52695808#kudos

The Price of Living is Butterfly Yuuji stuck in Spider Kuna’s web, unable to get free, treasured and trapped under a suffocating love:https://archiveofourown.org/works/48340489#kudos

Impermenance deals a lot with the most recent champters and has spoilers and speculation about what gonna happen if Sukuna wins, Yuuji angst and whump but he also gets a badass moment to shine:https://archiveofourown.org/works/48340489#kudos

And finally Reborn From Your Ashes also deals with most recent chapters and spoilers but then throws it back in time to possibly the Heian Period or right after (not a time travel sense just a setting sense):https://archiveofourown.org/works/55384441#kudos

[shadowbends]

DEEP DISH!! ROTTMNT FANFIC RECS (OVER 15,000 WORDS)

It’s me again, folks. Do you enjoy good fanfic? We’re reaching the end of the line, but I’m here to hook you up! Whether you’re new to the fandom and diving into the ROTTMNT fic scene for the first time, or a veteran looking for content you might have missed, my hope for this project is to point you to something you’ll enjoy!

This rec list is the last of three and focuses on longfic in the fandom, with a word count reaching anywhere over 15,000 words. You’ll find a variety of fic here, from novellas to full-blown novels—some complete, but many still ongoing! Though it may be heresy on the streets of New York, this is the list you want when you’re craving something really thick to sink your teeth into: a sit-down experience exploding with flavor. Don’t have time for that, actually? Then consider checking out my previous rec lists as well!

NEW YORK STYLE, BABY!! ROTTMNT FANFIC RECS (UNDER 5,000 WORDS)

STUFFED CRUST!! ROTTMNT FANFIC RECS (BETWEEN 5,000 AND 15,000 WORDS)

DEEP DISH!! ROTTMNT FANFIC RECS (OVER 15,000 WORDS) — You’re here!

If you enjoy any of these fics, make sure to reblog and spread the love! Don’t forget to check out the other works by these authors; many of them have written multiple wonderful stories not featured here that are just as good. Additionally, consider leaving the authors a comment! I’m not always the best at that myself, but fic writers work hard and deserve all the love in the world.

With all of that said, it’s time for the recs. Let’s dig in!

Quick note: On previous lists, I separated the recs by the general time period they took place in. I’m not going to that here, largely because—uh. Well. Nearly all of them are post-movie! This fandom’s sure been active in the last couple of months, huh? Given that, I’ll be sorting them by a broader method, but yes. If you’ve not seen the movie, this is your warning that spoilers abound in the recs below. 

➤ ➤ ➤ CANON COMPLIANT

The Aftermath by Starrcrossrose

57,262 words, 9/? chapters (last updated 11/03/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone (Leo-centric)

Genre: Angst, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort

It would’ve been easier to say what he was feeling, but he honestly didn’t know how. He wasn’t sure why, either. He knew his brothers would understand and comfort him and be there if he wanted them to be. Hell, Donnie’s surprise sleepover and everyone showing up for it in the living room had been proof of that.

Yet he still couldn’t do it. He’d tried to talk to Donnie and the pain on his brother’s face had been enough to make him never want to speak about things ever again. He didn’t want them to hurt the way he did; he wanted them to be okay and normal and happy.

You know they aren’t happy. Why do you keep pretending to be fine when the others aren’t either?

Leo squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into his knees as he pulled himself into an even tighter ball. He wanted to go into his shell as much as possible, but at the same time, a searing energy was making his legs feel like he could run or swim for miles. He could just go and go and go until he collapsed.

Maybe… maybe that'll help.

Set a few months after the movie, Leo struggles with the long recovery time needed for his injuries to heal, both physical and mental. Unable to talk about it, he turns to unhealthy coping methods instead. The rest of the family is doing no better from the fallout of the invasion, however, with each of their own stresses mounting the longer things go unaddressed. That is until Chapter 8, when things come to a head...

There are a lot of post-movie recovery fics out there, each one unique. The Aftermath’s hallmark has to be in its slowburn foreshadowing, and excellent character writing. Throughout many chapters, we get a glimpse into the heads of just about every beloved character the series has to offer, including April and Casey Jr. Little clues to what’s going to go wrong are set up early on, but just like the characters, I was blind to how serious of a turn things were about to take until the problem finally reared its head. This fic does a good job of showing how important it is to talk to one another, even if it’s hard.

Aftershocks by Katiemonz, McBethins, octolingkiera, theashemarie, and this_kills_the_man

153,543 words, 12/15 chapters (last updated 11/06/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone

Genre: Family Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

“Good game,” Leo said to Donnie, smiling at Mikey in the same sly way as before.

“Thank you, Leonardo, but as I’ve said Uno is—”

“But you still lost,” Leo continued. He swept the cards up and began to straighten them for another shuffle.

“Second place is hardly—”

“Honorary title,” Leo cut in again. “Mikey won, so we owe him.”

“Owe him what? I have—”

“Keep your money, Don. In this game we’re dealing in secrets.”

“Secrets.”

“Yeah, specifically what’s up in that brilliant, big head of yours after all that Krang shit. C’mon. You owe him one secret.”

Picking up from the end of the invasion but spanning the weeks after, the day’s been won, but no one came out of the Krang’s attack completely unscathed. There’s a lot of trauma to unpack here—unfortunately, talking about it is the last thing just about anyone in the family wants to do. 

Another recovery fic, Aftershocks is unique for being a story told from five perspectives (the boys and April), as written by five different authors. As the brothers avoid each other, each arc’s events end up having quite the different take depending on whose POV you’re currently following, even in moments where the same scene is being retold. Truly an ensemble fic that focuses on everyone’s trauma, I’ve especially enjoyed that April was included. As the longest fic on this list, Aftershocks is heavy on introspection and exposition, but the characterization always manages to shine through in the details. I especially love the scene I quoted above; “Trauma Uno” is totally a concept I could see the boys coming up with. 

A Tale of Spirits by unorthodoxx

47,202 words, 6/? chapters (last updated 11/06/2022)

Character Focus: Ensemble

Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Crossover

"I need to find my brothers," Raph mumbles.  "That's if they're even here."

"And then head back to the spirit world."

"It's not the spirit world!"

"Right," Toph grins. "This so-called 'other dimension' without benders."

"There are no benders in my world."

Toph reaches and places a hand on scaled skin.  Huge muscles twitch under her palm and the spirit stops.  "No benders?"

"Yes!"

She nods.  "Like the spirit world."

Raph throws his arms up with a scream and Toph cackles.

For a crossover, this fic requires quite a bit of investment in the second fandom to follow; you’ll want to have seen all of ATLA Season 1, and potentially even Season 2 if you want to keep track of what’s going on, especially for moments when episodes are retold, but with the turtles added in. Additionally, the POV is solely with the ATLA characters. Is this fic worth recommending despite that? Abso-freaking-lutely. This might be one of the most creative crossovers I’ve seen in any fandom, and I’m absolutely hooked.

The plot is deceptively straightforward—the four turtles mysteriously appear in the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, separated and with no idea where the brothers are. Their arrival changes everything, with the people of the world seeing them as powerful spirits and guardians. I won’t spoil who ends up with who beyond what’s shown in the excerpt, but it paves the way for fascinating political intrigue and character development on all sides, our fave turtles included. Donatello’s position is perhaps the most fascinating for what may come of it, but everyone’s new groupings have been an utter delight. The banter feels charming and wholly in-character, and I can’t wait to read more. This is definitely a fic to keep your eye on, if you’ve not found it already.

Brother Dearest by Wardenov

69,666 words, 22/? chapters (last updated 11/03/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone (Donnie-centric)

Genre: Drama, Sci-Fi, Horror

“You came here looking for answers, weakling, because you messed with powers far beyond your understanding.” “I’m not-” She doesn’t let him continue. “Our brother may be dead, but the glory of our kind is that we are never truly defeated, not as long as our mark remains.” And as if to make her point, she raises a tentacle and delicately touches the glass - tendrils spawning from the point of contact, rapidly expanding across the surface like a frenzied contagion before freezing in place and crumbling under the extreme cold. “We cull the weak and assimilate those worthy, we bestow the blessing of Krang upon those who deserve it. You-” she spits, remaining tentacles scrambling to climb the glass where Donnie stood, “-you have stolen our gift.”

He says nothing.

“But,” she continues, sadistic smile returning, “your transgressions have ensured our survival. Our continued conquest. Whether you like it or not.”

Set a few months after the Krang’s invasion, things have seemingly gone back to normal for the Hamato family. Everyone’s doing their best to get by, and back to familiar routines and hobbies. Donnie, though? His newest project throws all of that into new chaos, showing that no matter how well-meaning, there are some things man (and turtle) was never meant to tamper with. 

I’m absolutely feral for this fic, and desperate to impress upon anyone seeing this why they should read it. It might be one of the very best fics the fandom has to offer. Seriously. You want plot and worldbuilding on par with the Season 3 we never got? Exploration of the Hidden City, and the Council of Heads that run it? High stakes, suspense, action, and family drama? Look no further, fam. Brother Dearest has it all, and every character (even Mayhem!) has a big role to play. April’s sleuthing, Mikey further develops his new mystic powers, Leo has some heavy choices to make as leader, and Raph isn’t as home free after the Krang invasion as he thought. Make no mistake, though, the star of this show is Donnie in his unwitting supervillain arc. Will his family be able to save him from himself? Only time and new chapters can tell, but this fic dug its claws into my heart and won’t let go, it’s so good. 

Drift and Chemical Reaction by Bronte

26,949 words, 7/7 chapters (split between two fics)

Character Focus: Donatello & Leonardo, Ensemble

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding

"Piña colada?"

"What the—?" Donnie cuts him off before he can finish, cramming a green and yellow striped straw between his teeth. Leo wears some of it, the yellow, smoothie-like drink dribbling down his plastron. "Wait, where did you—what is this?"

Donnie smirks. "Pineapple, coconut, rum. A taste of the tropics."

Leo blinks and glances down apprehensively at the ‘Better Late than Ugly’ mug in his hand. "...does this have alcohol in it?"

"Does this have—pfft, I would never. Do you know who I am? Donatello, upstanding citizen of Manhattan proper?" Donnie barks a laugh, tossing his head back before leveling him with a look. "Of course there is. As the Bard himself said, self-love, my brother, is not so vile a sin as self-neglect."

As two sides of the same story, these fics are being recommended together! Set after the movie, Drift is told from Leonardo’s POV, both during and after leaving the prison dimension, where Chemical Reaction tells the story from Donatello’s POV. 

The real charm of this fic, though? It has to be the banter. Reading this, I could totally hear the character’s voices in my head, which was only made better once the piña coladas came in. You think the twins are disasters; just wait until they’re drunk. These fics would be worth reccing on their own for that scene alone, but there’s actually a little bit of plot involved as well as Leo struggles to regain his ninpo, while Donnie... Well, something weird is going on with Donnie. Needless to say, both of these are a great read!

Every Night the Longest Day by ashtreelane

33,731 words, 13/? chapters (last updated 10/27/2022)

Character Focus: Leonardo & Family

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Medical Drama

“What’s wrong, Leo?” Raph asks from where he is curled around him, the snapper’s chin nestled on the top of his head.

“Can’t sleep,” Leo mutters. He smells worry, sudden and sharp, and when he opens his eyes Raph has whipped around to look at Donnie, eyes blown wide, looking for an answer. Donnie is looking at him too, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“We- okay. Raph, don't freak out. This is to be expected, remember?” Donnie is saying, his voice just barely on the wrong side of too calm. He’s freaking out too. Why? What’s happening? Oh, he’s being addressed now, he should probably pay attention.

“Leo, you were cursed six days ago to be unable to fall asleep. Your memory is suffering because of it, but we’re all right here, okay?”

Leo kind of knows what they’re talking about. He remembers it, he remembers that it happened, but the… events are… foggy. What- what had they been talking about?

“What are we talking about?”

When Leo is cursed to be unable to sleep, he and the family must wait for a new moon to break the spell through a ritual. Unfortunately, that new moon is nearly two weeks off. As Leo is forced to stay awake for days on end, his mental and physical condition quickly begins to deteriorate. Through it all, Leo’s family stays by his side to help him through it, beautifully balancing hurt with comfort through the beginning. As the story goes on and Leo’s condition worsens, though... Well. Things aren’t looking good, let’s say.  

I have such a soft spot for this fic, though. It’s grown quite popular lately, so many of you reading this list may have already heard it, but there was a point when I was following early on where the author was debating shifting the POV around or sticking with Leo as an unreliable narrator. I was really proud of them for sticking to their guns and going with the latter, and I think it’s paid off in spades. The way the author experiments with formatting styles and missing scenes really makes the fic stand apart from the standard whump setup, and turns it into something akin to low-key psychological horror. If you’re into that sort of thing it’s a lot of fun; even if you’re not, the moments of family bonding peppered throughout the fic are so wholesome, and definitely worth your time.

Fallout by GauntletKnight

50,677 words, 20/? chapters (last updated 11/05/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama

“We are here. We are alive. Raph and Mikey are downstairs. Dad and April and Casey are on the way. You’re alright, Leo. You’re safe. We are all safe. No one is here to hurt you…or us.” There is no special inflection to his voice, but his words are firm, unmoving. Leo shakes for a moment, squeezing Donnie’s hand…and then he blinks, his eyes clear and he tries to take a breath.

Violent coughs wrack his body as he tries to dislodge the blood that had built up from his sobs. Bright red spatters down his front and across Donnie’s hands as he holds onto Leo’s arm. Each breath is like nails on a chalkboard.

Draxum steps in instantly, checking the monitor for vitals. “I’ve gotta get to that punctured lung…or else getting this blood transfusion in him isn’t going to do anything.” He turns to Donnie, holding out plastic gloves, “Can you-”

Leo shakes his head, finally getting a rattling breath into his chest. “N-no…Don’s…not great with this kind of thing. S’ok…he’s so good at everything else he had to leave some for the rest of us.” He smiles up at Donnie like Donnie hung the damn moon and stars, his eyes still shining with painful tears. It’s…a weirdly genuine moment between the two of them…

Donnie doesn’t like it.

Set between the final fight and grabbing a slice in the movie, this fic follows the immediate aftermath of pulling Leo out of the prison dimension with a bit more urgency and attention to everyone’s injuries. 

As I’ve said before, every movie recovery fic I’ve found has their hallmark, and I’d say Fallout’s is its heart and emotion. By focusing on the aftermath of the battle where everyone’s stresses are still running high, there’s a lot going on here, and it makes for some tense, but evocative moments. The story is lightly focused on Leo’s mental state especially, but everyone is going through it and as the POV shifts every chapter, each character gets some focus as they work through their injuries and messy feelings. Fallout is very satisfying read, and one I often come back to over and over.

hamartia by Punable

40,364 words, 9/? chapters (last updated 10/30/2022)

Character Focus: Donatello & Family

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

It felt nothing like how he imagined dying would feel.

Donatello was a man of science, so it would have been foolish of him to have not, over the years, devised theories around what results certain situations would generate, what or who they might take out of commission, and what he would need to do personally in order to gain the best possible outcome. He would sometimes note down how he believed these situations might affect him or his brothers, both physically or mentally - he wasn’t an expert on emotions, far from it, but he could at least logically assume that getting, say, struck by lightning (one of his planned-for possibilities) would leave its own traumatic scar on any man or turtle that happened to experience it, so he’d dragged in April for those certain emotional areas and promptly abandoned her as a research partner when she’d told him he was being obsessive. He was not obsessive, just thorough.

He couldn’t help but feel as though some of that research time may have been wasted, though, as he lay on his side, his newest project slash rework shattered into almost unsalvageable pieces on the floor across from him. (And really, that felt almost like the harshest blow - how was anyone except him supposed to salvage that hunk of junk? Was that all that he was leaving behind?)

He felt it had been time wasted, maybe, because dying didn’t feel at all like the soft, slowing breaths of passing peacefully into sleep, or the fast tight gasping of someone going out from a bullet wound. If anything, it felt like he was breathing too deeply, every breath filling his whole body and stretching out every wound and puncture and fracture, oxygen making his head light (or maybe that was the blood loss). He didn’t feel at peace, and he certainly didn’t feel as scared as he thought he should’ve been, as he had read he should have been.

Mostly, it just felt like an inconvenience.

Donnie almost dies, and that’s just the start of this angsty tale. What follows is an interesting exploration of what Donatello thinks of himself and his role in the team, and his family’s growing concerns when he won’t give himself time to recover. Donnie’s brush with death has lasting consequences, and a large part of the fic is dedicated both to how much they affect him and how long he can hide it from his family (and the audience). Once the truth comes out, though? Oof. 

The newfound disability is handled well, imo, and you really feel for everyone involved. There’s a lot about mental health that the author just does really well in general, actually. The focus on family and everyone’s concerns for their brother is where this fic really shines, though, and there’s a lot of emotion that hits just right. Basically, the hurt is done so well, I’m looking forward to when we get to more comfort.

i go there with you by bobtheacorn

21,649 words, 15/? chapters (last updated 11/04/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor

"But seriously," Donnie says seriously, brandishing his tablet screen above Mikey's head and pointing at it, "I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you be Very Honest when I ask you to scale your pain using this -" He cuts his eyes toward Raph, who grins. "Emoji Scale. Which dramatization would you say you find the most relatable at the moment?"

"Okay, so defo… this guy," Leo says. He thinks he manages to lift his finger but that's all the juice he's got. "On the… left."

"That would be the thumbs-up emoji, Leo," Raph says cautiously.

"Awww," Mikey gushes, "Is that one because you love us?"

"Hang on," Leo says around another small huff of maybe-laughter, "You… can't prove anything. But also…" He moves his finger again. "Also this guy on the… on the far r-right. Like, for-real for real."

"Oh, the sad-angry-crying emoji, fantastic," Donnie says with a bit more pep, tossing the tablet and turning to Splinter, who's closest to the monitor, "Papa, would you do Leo a huge favor and smash that morphine button, please? Like, right now, immediately."

Set immediately after the invasion. This fic is a series of interconnected one-shots originally written for Whumptober, but by Chapter 9 breaks into its own thing. The whump remains a focus, but it’s tempered by a good dose of comfort and humor as well, which the author is a master of. 

If you want a recovery fic after the events of the movie that matches the feeling of the show, i go there with you is the fic to start with. The characterization and banter are spot on, as is the emotional whiplash. All of the characters gets some love and introspection in this one too, which is always fun.

Now That’s What I Call A Vacation! by WayWardWatson

56,238 words, 9/? chapters (last updated 11/06/2022)

Character Focus: Splinter & Family

Genre: Family Bonding, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Splinter turned his attention back to Big Mama, the flirtatious mood from earlier dissipating. “I am calling in your favor.”

It was like he had slapped her with his rat tail with how she reared back in visible disgust. Her fangs clicked in irritation and she scuttled further down, closer to where Splinter was standing. “Remind me, when have I ever owed you a measly-weasly favor?”

“When you misused demon armor for profit that nearly resulted in the end of human and yokai kind alike?” Splinter evenly said. “Oh, and the time I rubbed your feet, all eight of them, when you were on bedrest.”

“I thought that was an act of love.”

“Kindness.” He corrected because his heart hurt too much when she said love. “I was being kind. Though, if you want,” Again, his voice dipped into a purr, splaying out his arms wide in open invitation. “You could be kind enough to give me and my family a free round trip to Japan? I know you can do it.”

More scuttling as a low hiss escaped her maw. “That is a big, dimbly favor to ask.”

“I thought we were calling those acts of lo- kindness?”

“Why,” She drew the word out as she finally reached the bottom and pressed her broach. Suddenly, a swirl of light engulfed Big Mama and, with a whoosh of mystic energy that smelt like nutmeg, he watched as her stature began to diminish. Just as quickly, the light fractured and then separated into small motes of bioluminescent dust, casting a dim, golden glow around them. Now in human form, Big Mama stepped in close enough to touch. “Do you want to go to Japan?”

Without thinking, Splinter’s eyes trailed down then up and he swallowed. His heart was beginning to pick up, but certainly not from fear. He took a moment to gather himself. “My children need a vacation.”

Splinter takes one look at the S2 finale and the movie and decides that’s it, this family needs a break. Deals are made, mystic disguise brooches are acquired, itineraries are made, and with that, the family (including April!) are off on an exciting vacation to Japan! As with all scenarios involving the Hamato Clan, however, nothing goes so simply.

You’re getting so much bang for your buck picking up this fic. A family trip to Japan is charming in and of itself—and the author has done so much research on the country that some passages feels like taking a tour of your own—but this fic actually has a lot going on for it. How they even get to Japan involves some fun mystic worldbuilding, and the cloaking brooches open the door to interesting commentary on body dysphoria. And of course, things take quite a turn when the fam runs into a figure from Splinter’s past who has questions he struggles to answer. A refreshing story with creative ideas, Now That’s What I Call A Vacation! also has an excellent grasp on all of the characters, in and out of vacation mode. It’s a darling read.

odd man out by cosmocrow

22,676 words, 4/? chapters (last updated 10/29/2022)

Character Focus: Future Leonardo & Leonardo, Future Leonardo & Casey, The Hamato Family

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama

“Master Splinter,” he greets, almost impressed by the fact that his voice isn’t wavering like he feared it would. “I’m sorry for barging in– like. Barging into your timeline? I– I can explain.” He really can’t, but that isn’t the point.

Splinter only raises a hand. “Don’t worry, Casey has brought us up to speed.” He turns to deposit the tray onto a cart, before folding his hands into the sleeve of his robe. Leonardo can feel those yellow eyes look him up and down as he straightens up again. Splinter takes a step closer, craning his short neck to be able to look Leonardo in the face. Melancholy dances on his features, but the rat smiles nonetheless.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so tall, Leonardo.” The soft usage of his name almost makes Leonardo stumble. He hasn’t heard it from his father’s mouth in a long, long time. A familiar burn starts to prickle within his eyes, so he starts blinking in order to quell the itch, pressing his lips together, so his mouth won’t wobble. He isn’t sure why he’s trying – he knows that Splinter knows.

His father always knew everything.

Splinter steps even closer, lifting a hand from within the confines of his sleeves. Like a magnet, Leonardo bends down, so his dad can cup the side of his face. Gently, the old rat rubs his thumb into his cheek, just below his mask, over his red markings. Splinter’s sad little smile falls, and he tugs down the blue mask over Leonardo’s face.

“But,” he says softly, “you look so tired, my son.”

Several months after the movie’s conclusion, a familiar face from Casey’s averted bad future appears, just as everyone else is startling to settle back in. Predictably, this throws everything into confusion.

Tl;dr, Future Leonardo is sent back into the past and has to adjust back to a world sans apocalypse, and the family takes him in with open arms. Things between him and younger Leo are a lot more tenuous, but there’s a resolution early on that feels very true to their personalities—one less sure of himself, and the other who’s learned his lessons the hard way—that resonated strongly with me and made me fall in love with the story. Add to that some genuinely heartwarming moments with the family bonding, and you’re in for a good, if bittersweet time. 

Recoil by unorthodoxx

63,236 words, 10/10 chapters

Character Focus: Ensemble

Genre: Action, Team Bonding, Angst, Crossover

“Hey guys,” he yells.  “You might want to see this.”

It doesn’t take long for the three of them to spill into his lab.  Leo comes in first and drapes himself across the back of Donnie’s chair.  “What’s up?  You find the secret ingredient to Luenzo’s Pizza yet?”

“No,” Donnie scowls.  “They’re locked down tighter than Fort Knox, but it’ll fall soon.  They always do.  No fellas,” He enlarges the email, “We’ve been invited to a meet-up of sorts.”  

Raph’s hand settles heavily on his shoulder as the larger turtle leans in to read.  “Dear Genius Built…….Talk about…….agree to meet…..love…”

“IRONMAN!!?!?”  Mikey shouts.  “THE Ironman wants to meet us!”

“Wow,” Raph whistles.  “The Avengers.  That’s some top-level hero stuff.”

ROTTMNT crosses over with the MCU! Set in a world where both universes exist in the same setting, this fic takes place after the Krang Invasion, but fairly into the MCU’s history, long before the superheroes have their falling out. So long as you have any familiarity with the first Avengers movie, you’ll be able to follow the story fine, as it’s straightforward: the appearance of the Krang was as abrupt as their defeat, and Tony Stark can’t let sleeping dogs lie. After uncovering the turtles’ involvement, an in-person meeting is arranged to handle the fate of the Krang Key.

Most of this fic is just a fun excuse to let the ROTTMNT characters bounce off the MCU characters, and it’s fun to see who gets along and who doesn’t. That’s the thing I love in particular about this story—the author is true enough to their characterization that not everyone is friends by the end, in a way that makes whole sense. The Avengers are disasters themselves, after all. The plot of handling the key is done exceptionally well too, and there’s a lot of high octane action at the end that’s quite thrilling. If you’re looking for a good time, you’ll fine it in Recoil, and if you enjoyed it, there’s more where that came from! The author has planned out several other stories set later on in the same series, the first of which (where the turtles meet Spiderman) is already out. So keep an eye on that!

this kind of weather by ihaveathingforpink

21,526 words, 2/4 chapters (last updated 09/18/2022)

Character Focus: Leonardo & Michelangelo, Raphael & Donatello, Ensemble

Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort, Crossover

“Well, if it is business you seek, Krang has a proposition for you. There are two turtles Krang wishes for you to…remove from the board as their tenacity has proven to be as obstructive as it is predictable. For our plans to proceed, it’s too dangerous for either to remain alive.”

Takeshi takes another sip before asking, “Turtles? As in the ninja turtles that reside beneath the city, whom everyone pretends doesn’t exist? The people of New York won’t be pleased if I do anything to harm their heroes.”

“Oh, I want you to do more than simply harm them. First, they need to suffer.”

“Suffering costs extra. I don’t do anything for free.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Yet you said two turtles when, last I checked, there’s four.”

“Ah, yes. They are of little concern to me. Krang only need you to get rid of two, and you must follow Krang's instructions precisely. Otherwise, you will fail. First, you will need to get rid of the little orange one; he may not look like much, but he’s one of the strongest mystic warriors of all time. I suggest you handle this one quickly—he can be quite slippery—but the blue one, Krang implores you to take your time.”

This story has one helluva hook. A surviving Krang puts a hit out on Mikey and Leo, and saying more than that would unfortunately spoil the twist of the first chapter. With just two chapters, though, this story is fascinating and deserves a lot more attention than it’s gotten. It has high stakes, great action, and is an emotional roller coaster that doesn’t let up. It’s also a bit of a crossover, though longstanding fans of the TMNT franchise will recognize these faces right away. That’s right, this is a crossover with Usagi Yojimbo! Besides characters of that series, though, there’s also a lot of familiar faces from previous TMNT series that Rise never got enough time to tackle, like Tiger Claw and Renet. 

You can probably guess from the latter’s name that things are about to get timey-wimey up in here, and you’d be correct. There’s an absolutely killer plot at work here, emphasis on the killer, and whether they want to or not the turtles have to take a divide and conquer approach to it while at one of their lowest points. Seriously, check this one out. 

Under Pressure by ParvumAutmaton

21,560 words, 4/4 chapters

Character Focus: The Boys & April

Genre: Suspense, Angst

“You know April, right?” The voice on the other end of the line asked. “You’re one of her gamer friends?”

Donnie blinked. The voice sounded familiar but that didn’t help him at the unholy hour where way too late morphed into way too early.

“And you are?”

“Her mother. Please, did she spend the night at your place?”

“No, she did not,” Donnie answered, forcing himself upright, his exhaustion evaporating with that question. “I believe she was planning on some extracurricular club activity yesterday afternoon. So we weren’t planning on seeing her.”

“I don’t suppose you know which club?”

“No, I do not.”

“Ok,” The waver Donnie heard in her voice implied that it wasn’t. “You will let me know if April gets in touch?”

“Of course Ms. O’Neil.”

The call ended.

Donnie stared at his phone.

One of the few fics on this list not set after the movie, this story takes place after the S2 finale on a dismal day when April goes missing. Investigating her disappearance leads the boys to a van and a lake, and an exploration on the dangers of cave diving. 

As you can guess from that description, this fic has quite the creative setup that’s both atmospheric and suspenseful. Be sure to heed the tags because it does get dark, but it’s still a great read, and the turtles’ determination to find their sister pulls at the heartstrings. 

➤ ➤ ➤ CANON DIVERGENT

big sister by Darth_Sunny

18,090 words, 6/? chapters (last updated 10/24/2022)

Character Focus: April & Family

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

April O’Neil wasn’t an only child anymore. She had four younger brothers, whom she loved with all her heart, and who she’d burned the world down for if anything were to happen to them. She’d fight every ancient mystic evil the world would throw at her if it meant keeping them safe. And if she couldn’t be there for them at the moment, she’d be there for them in the aftermath. She was their big sister, their oldest and only sister. : was the self-proclaimed protector, but even he needed someone to protect him and to help protect their younger brothers.

So that’s why, when she watched the portal close up, slicing the Technodrome in half, stopping the Kraang for good, knowing that he was trapped back in that prison dimension, April O’Neil felt her heart break into hundreds, thousands, millions of little pieces.

This one’s a fic following April’s perspective on the end of the invasion, from Leo’s sacrifice, to picking up Casey, and reuniting with the boys. It mostly follows canon, but there is a fairly major change revealed partway through that makes it canon divergent from the movie’s ending. It’s unclear if other changes will follow, but just in case it’s being slotted in the canon divergent category all the same. 

That’s not the focus, though. No, this fic is centered squarely on April and her relationship with the rest of the Hamato Clan. I love that it impresses how much April is a part of the family, and that the boys aren’t just her friends but her brothers, and that their pain is her pain. Watching the aftermath of the invasion unfold from her perspective is a fresh and evocative take. 

Like Father Like Son by eternalglitch

132,982 words, 25/? chapters (last updated 11/02/2022)

Character Focus: Everyone (Leo-centric)

Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort

“Here, Boss!” Huginn darted back across the room, wings straining, as he carried a very… familiar…

“Uh, wait up, no,” Leo said, eyeing the blue object as Huginn dropped it into Draxum’s waiting hand. “Do you even know where that thing’s been? Have you properly washed it at least?”

Draxum’s roots suddenly shift, dragging Leo upright until he’s forced to stand on his tip-toes to have any sort of purchase. “I happened to have had it offered to me by the mutant that you call Meat Sweats,” Draxum said, admiring the collar (for that’s what it actually was, even if Leo had never called it that when it was just a gift from his brother) in the light. “He was quite helpful once I mentioned what I wanted to use it for.” Draxum started to approach, the collar held aloft.

“So, what,” Leo bit out. “You’re gonna stop me from saying my one-liners? Big whoop.”

“I think you’ll find,” Draxum coolly said. “That this has been modified to do so much more than that.”

This fic needs no introduction. In fact, there’s a high chance some of you heard of LFLS before they even saw Rise; I’ve heard of people who only watched the show just so they could read it! It’s the most popular fic in the fandom for a reason. If that’s scared you off, though, or if you’ve avoided it for other reasons, let me tell you why you should give it a chance. 

The fic takes some of Rise’s best villains and settings, and explores the darker sides of them (do heed the warnings in the tags). Leo goes through the absolute wringer, but the effect his disappearance has on his family plays a central part of the story as well, with all of the brothers getting full blown introspection and character arcs. Donnie’s in particular hurts me. The emotions are high and the plot is juicy, with some of the tightest writing the fandom has to offer, including intelligent plans and dialogue. As far as hurt/comfort goes, this is definitely a slow burn with a lot of angst, but the author has promised a happy ending. Between that and consistent updates (it’s been going strong for two years), what more could you ask for?

Three Days to Live by Werepirechick

93,992 words, 13/13 chapters

Character Focus: April & The Boys

Genre: Cyberpunk, Action, Human AU

The heiress and former target lowers her hands, keeping them placidly by her sides. “K-tech is a vicious, unrelenting company,” she says, glasses gleaming in the room’s light as she lifts her chin in defiance. “The people who run it are the same. They don’t let people get away, and they don’t leave loose ends. You were all on their shit list as much as I am, the second you signed on.”

Leo shifts his stance, tightening his grip on his gun. “So what are you proposing?” he asks coolly.

“Like y’all said. I’m the heiress to the company. In three days I’m going to walk into a courtroom, sign the papers that frees K-tech from the control of my guardian, and walk out the richest, most powerful person in North America.” O’Neil smiles bitterly. “That is, if I can survive the next seventy-two hours. That’s where you come in.”

“You want us to guard you,” Raph states.

Ohhh, this fic is an absolute gem. You can’t say no to a good Human AU in this fandom to start, but to top it off with a cyberpunk twist? Trust me, this is a match made in heaven. The plot kicks off when the boys—hitmen in this universe—are hired to take out April O’Neil, an heiress to one of the world’s largest tech companies. When things take a turn, she makes them a deal: protect her for three days instead, and she’ll make them rich beyond their wildest dreams.

The plot that follows is filled with danger, intrigue, and high octane action. The world is incredibly thought out and immersive, and makes for a great way to work ROTTMNT’s mystic powers into a new genre. The banter, though. If you’ve read any of Werepirechick’s other fics, you’d know that’s their specialty, and it’s no different here in Three Days to Live. While on the run from the powers seeking to destroy her, the boys and April bond and their friendship is perfection. The series also blends in characters from other iterations of the franchise, but it’s not too distracting, and for the most part remains firmly rooted in the Rise style. Do yourself a favor, and give this one a read!

Posted: 11/06/2022

[staytheword]

the kids aren't alright (lmly, part two)

the kids aren't alright — part two of leave me loving you [← part one] [→ part three] [series masterlist] [general masterlist] 

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!if you interact with my writing please have a profile picture and short bio indicating your age. it helps me make sure you are not a bot!!

• han jisung x female reader, other stray kids members are featured.

• non idol au, rock band au. angst. some drama. drinking, partying, fighting (very brief), a little blood, emotional manipulation and ensuing trauma, explicit language, explicit smut. smut warnings — boobjob, thigh fucking, use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex.

• word count — 7.5k

You stop as Jisung’s arms pull you closer to him, wrapping you in a tight hug. You’re so surprised at first you can barely move, but as he holds you, and his warmth envelops your body, you relax.

• author's note — hello everyone! thank you so much for the love you gave the first part of this series. Here is part two for you! It's a little shorter. I hope you will like it despite the drama ehehe. Thank you as always for your support ♡

You wake up the next day with Jisung next to you. From what you can see, he is naked, but you are not - he probably undressed at some point in the night. It stretches a smile upon your lips, and you play with his hair a little. He looks completely passed out and you can guess he won’t be waking up any time soon. 

You stand up from his bed, wincing at the fact that you’re still wearing last night’s clothes - but it’s not like you brought a change. As you’re about to head out of the room, which is both messy and impersonal, you see a black hoodie hanging on the back of the door. You slip it on, telling yourself you’ll give it back to Jisung later. 

The apartment is quiet, but you hear noise coming from the kitchen - what sounds like music. You go to the bathroom to freshen up, clear some of your makeup and tie your hair in a ponytail, and then head towards the sound. As you approach, you realize someone is playing the guitar. 

In the morning light of the kitchen, Felix sits on one of the chairs, a leg propped up, an acoustic guitar balanced on his thighs. His black hair is entirely down, falling in long, slightly wavy strands. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that is way too large for him, and pajama shorts with tigers on them. 

He plays a little, then stops and writes something down in the notebook in front of him. He is focused, so much he doesn’t hear you until you sit down in front of him.

“Oh,” he mutters, giving you a smile. “Morning.”

His voice is low and raw and it almost makes you shiver.

“Morning. Are you writing a song?” 

He nods. 

“It sounds beautiful,” you say. “Jisung told me you write a lot of melodies.” 

He nods again, grazing the guitar strings with his fingertips. 

“It’s the easiest part for me,” he explains. “Concepts, lyrics, arrangement… The others are better at that.” 

“That’s why you complete each other so well.” 

“Definitely,” he smiles. “You want to hear what I’ve got so far?”

“Oh, yes, if you’re comfortable.” 

He looks down at his notes, and starts playing slowly. You pull your legs towards your body, listening to him attentively. It’s melancholic, not exactly sad, not exactly accepting - it’s somewhere else, somewhere in between. You are appeased by the sound, smiling calmly. Felix has small hands, but he makes it work. Clearly, he is familiar with his instrument, and knows how to play it to his advantage. 

In the soft light of the morning, and with Felix’s music, you feel so calm it almost makes you tear up. 

When he’s done, you shake your head. 

“That’s beautiful, Felix.” 

“It’s about someone I miss,” he simply says, sliding his fingers on the strings, almost tenderly. “He… he was very dear to me.” 

Your heart sinks. There’s a simplicity with which Felix says the words that makes you think it happened recently, but that he’s starting to accept it. That he knows that there was nothing to do except accept the pain. 

“It’s the only thing I've been able to do,” Felix continues. “Write music about him. For him.” 

“It’s a beautiful thing to do, I think,” you say softly.

“I agree. Missing someone… It hurts, but it’s just love, isn’t it?” 

His smile is calm, though his eyes are sad. You can see, right there, that he's the kind of person to feel too much, to love too much - and you hope he knows how strong that makes him. 

“I made coffee if you want,” he tells you, nodding towards the counter. 

“Thank you.” 

You stand up, put a hand on his shoulder, and pour yourself a cup. Felix keeps playing and writing, and you leave him be, heading towards the living room. You sit in the window nook, looking outside at the horizon. 

You love this city because there is always something happening, always someone to look at, always the assurance that the world keeps spinning no matter what happens. It’s comforting, in a way. Felix’s melody still plays in your head, and you almost fall back asleep. 

Missing someone.

How will it feel to miss you, Jisung?

After a while, you tell Felix you’re heading home, that you’ll text Jisung later. 

The bus ride does not take you long. You jump in the shower after plugging in your phone - it died sometime during the previous night. When you leave the bathroom, your hair clean and your body revived, you realize you have multiple texts and voice messages from Changbin waiting for you. 

You glance at them, feeling the panic rise in your chest. 

y/n call me back

please

Are you with them??

where are you?

I really need to talk

call me when you get this

As you change into comfortable clothes, you call Changbin and put him on speakerphone. Your heart is beating fast - did something happen? You’ve been so out of it the past few hours, you feel horrible at neglecting your best friend. 

“About damn time,” Changbin answers.

“Bin,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry. My phone died last night. I just got home, I -”

“Did they tell you?” 

You stop at the tone in your friend’s voice. 

“Who told me what?” 

“The band. Side Effects. You were with them, right?” 

“Yes, but…”

“They didn’t tell you?” 

You frown, taking the phone in your hands to hear him closer to your ear. 

“Get to the point, Bin. What’s going on?” 

“They canceled the show. They’re gonna perform at the Scene instead.”

“What?”

“Seungmin called last time. They got a better offer. Said he was sorry.” 

The news feels like a bucket of ice cold water on your face, and you’re so shocked you can’t say a word. 

No. They didn’t.

They couldn’t. 

But of course they could.

You stare ahead, feeling the anger rise in your chest. Changbin sighs in your ear. 

“Of course they didn’t tell you,” he mutters. “Y/N…” 

“I didn’t know, Bin, I swear,” you tell him, your voice shaking. “I had no idea. If I had, I - I -” 

You trip upon the words, your throat dry, your lungs about to burst. You wouldn’t have let one of them fuck you, that’s for sure. 

And you thought you were making friends. 

“Fuck them,” you breathe out. 

“I might come home,” Changbin asks. “I should be working, but I’m not in the mood.”

“Of course. Have you eaten? I can order something.”

“Please, I’m starving.”

When you hang up, you open the food delivery app and get a few orders of fried chicken and side dishes. Your fingers are shaking a little bit - and of course, Jisung chooses this wonderful time to text you. 

A part of you can’t blame them. They’re a band, they need money - music is still a business. They don't owe anything to Changbin, or the Trades.

They certainly don’t owe anything to you. 

But it still hurts. Less than two hours ago you were sleeping soundly against Jisung and feeling at home with friends.

If only it had been any other place. But no, it had to be the Scene. 

The place was Trades’ biggest competition and the place of business of the worst person on earth, Cha Jun-woo. 

You sigh, letting your face fall in your hands.

At one point in your life, it had been you three against the world. 

You, Changbin, Jun-woo. 

It was college. Changbin and him met in a common class. You had known Changbin since childhood, and the three of you started hanging out together. Your friendship grew fast over parties and study sessions. You ate pizza and instant ramen and drank irresponsibly. You were inseparable and you were so sure it would be for life. 

Except Jun-woo had always been ambitious. 

When you graduated, you were lucky to find a job straight away. An agency recruited you, and you were set. It wasn’t as simple for Changbin and Jun-woo, however, as the competition in their domain was fierce. They had no choice but to compete for the same jobs. 

They suffered rejection together a few times. Drank soju to help swallow their pride. And then Changbin got hired. Not Jun-woo. 

The latter never forgave him. His trampled pride was forever bent out of shape, and Changbin and him started to fight. Jun-woo did everything to ruin Changbin’s life - make him late for work, encourage him to challenge his boss. You weren’t there as much as you wanted back then because you worked long hours. 

Jun-woo coaxed you. He ordered you food, massaged your aching neck. He tried to convince you he had a crush on you. When Changbin was there he would caress your arm or your thigh, invoke inside jokes to make your best friend feel left out. You were so busy and tired you barely noticed what was happening until it was almost too late. 

He’s trying to pull you away from me, Changbin pleaded to you one night. Can’t you see what he’s doing? 

Then it became clear - so clear. Jun-woo couldn’t ruin Changbin’s career, but he could steal you away from him.

As if you would ever betray Changbin. 

Needless to say, you’re not friends anymore. You haven’t been for a while. And when Changbin opened the Trades, Jun-woo came up with the Scene. While Changbin worked hard on it, Jun-woo just had the money. 

In the past few years he has tried, again and again, to ruin Changbin’s life. Nothing has been off limits. Seducing his exes, stealing his clients, trying to ruin him. None of you hide your hate anymore. 

And that’s why this hurts. 

You open the conversation with Jisung and ignore whatever he wrote. 

you did you know??  last night??

jisung ??????

you about the scene about having ur gig there just tell me

jisung oh yeah  seungmin told us

You bite back a scream, that instead comes out as an angry growl from between your lips. 

you and you didnt think to tell me???? the owner is a JERK hes a manipulative FUCKER 

jisung y/n..

you fuck i told you about him last night how much i hate him he wants to ruin changbins life

jisung i just forgot

you did you know before or after?

jisung what?

you before or after we fucked?? answer me

jisung i dont remember…

You let out a bitter laugh.

you fuck u

You close your phone and try to breathe, but Jisung keeps texting you, so you delete the conversation and block his number. 

Fuck you. Fuck you, Han Jisung. 

You might be overreacting, but you don’t care.

You have no time in your life for such bullshit.

You’ve been manipulated enough. 

No more.

When Changbin arrives, almost at the same time as the food delivery guy, you’re still seething. Your best friend calms you with a tight hug and you decide to focus on him. He’s just lost a big contract, and to Jun-woo, too. It has happened too many times before, and you just know it will be messy for a while. Because if one thing is sure, it’s that Jun-woo will be petty about it. 

You already want to strangle him. You should’ve done it a long time ago. 

You wrap Changbin in a blanket and set the coffee table with the food. He tells you everything, and you do the same, even if your cheeks burn with shame and humiliation. Changbin does not judge you, but he is in the right mind for a punch or two. So are you, to be honest. 

Both of you are just starting to calm down and have started a movie to get your mind off things when someone knocks on your door. You leave Changbin with a kiss on his hair and open the door. Han Jisung stands on the other side, looking sheepish. 

“Have you blocked me?” he asks, looking at you with wide puppy eyes.

Your anger slaps back in your veins like a fist in the stomach. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“You blocked me!” 

“Of course I blocked you, asshole.” 

He blinks at you. “Listen, I thought about it, and -”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” 

You start to close the door, but Jisung slides inside your apartment, holding both of his palms up.

“Let me explain, please!” 

“What is there to explain?” 

“It was after, I swear, listen -” 

Changbin appears at your side. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he’s looking at Jisung with a dark glare you recognize too well. 

This is not going to end well. 

“You’re not welcome here, buddy,” he snaps. “I think you should go.” 

“I just want to talk to her,” Jisung replies.

“Leave.” 

“Jisung,” you sigh. “Just go.”

“Why won’t you let me explain myself?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, man!” Changbin exclaims. “Let it go, don’t be a fucking dick!” 

“Y/N,” Jisung pleads.

It happens quickly. Jisung’s hand lands carefully on your arm, which makes Changbin shove his chest. Jisung stumbles backward, eyes wide in surprise, and intends to do exactly the same. You cry out a stop but it’s too late, because as Jisung goes to shove Changbin, the latter has his fist ready, and it lands directly on Jisung’s nose. The entire thing lasts less than two seconds. Jisung covers his nose with his hand and doesn't make a noise. Your heart is beating so fast you are sure they can both hear it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you say. “Fucking boys.” 

You glare at Changbin, who doesn’t look that proud of himself but does not look like he regrets it either. Then take a tentative step towards Jisung. 

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he answers, his voice calm and emotionless. 

He looks up at the both of you, and you see blood trailing down his nose towards his lips and down his shirt. You stare in slight horror, but Jisung only shakes his head. 

“Sorry. I’ll go.” 

“Jisung -” 

He doesn’t let you say anything, disappearing without another word. He closes your door behind him. The apartment is dead silent. 

You turn to your best friend. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Changbin shrugs and scrunches his nose. “He was being a dick.”

“There was no need to break his nose.” 

“I didn’t break it! I barely touched him.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Are you angry at me?” 

“Yes! You just punched him!” 

“What was I supposed to do?!” 

“Let me talk to him, go away, I don’t know! But not throw fists!?” 

You bicker for the better part of an hour, pacing around the apartment as you do. Still, you can never bring yourself to be mad at Changbin. You might not approve of the punch, you know Jisung deserved it a little. He was being rude and insistent, and you probably would’ve ended up slapping him if he didn’t leave. Still. 

He looked so calm, taking a punch, with all that blood on his face. 

It makes you feel… You’re not sure how. 

Eventually Changbin sinks into your couch, head low. 

“Why the hell did I do that?” he mumbles.

“You were just angry, Bin,” you sigh, your head falling on his shoulder. 

“I have to apologize.” 

“At the right time. Not today.” 

He sighs, letting down his head on yours.

“Not today, Bin.”

You sit at your usual booth in the Trades, unable to focus on work. You just stare into the void, trying to make sense of the past few days. How did you manage to fuck your life upside down like this? How did you get so attached? Why does this hurt so much? 

You let out a sigh, your head falling in your hands, as someone pushes a soda on the table in front of you. 

“Drink this,” Hyunjin tells you with a smile. “Sugar always helps me.” 

He’s dressed in black, as usual, his hair hidden under his hoodie, but his eyes shine with kindness. You thank him with a nod, taking a sip of the soda. It’s cold, sparkling, brings you to your senses like a shot of espresso. 

“Thanks for that, Hyun.” 

“You need to talk?” he asks, slipping on the booth in front of you, pushing his hoodie back. 

You shrug. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Everything’s a mess.” 

“Changbin told me,” Hyunjin admits, his piercing catching a ray of sunlight as he tilts his head. “Jun-woo is a fucking asshole, as usual.” 

You chuckle. “You said it.” 

Hyunjin keeps talking to you, swerving the conversation to your work. You know he’s trying to cheer you up, and at first you just indulge him, but it ends up helping, to talk about something else. To remind yourself of what you do, what you love, who you are. You’re showing him a project you’re working on when you get a call. 

You glance at your phone, and the name you see is like a slap on the face. Cha Jun-woo. You must be making a face because Hyunjin frowns. 

“Everything all right?” 

You just show him your phone, and Hyunjin grimaces. “Don’t answer. He probably just wants to brag.” 

“You’re right,” you say, ignoring the call. 

Of course, it would never be that simple to ignore someone like Jun-woo - a few seconds later, he sends you a text. You and Hyunjin read it together. 

Come and see me at the Scene. I have an offer for you. 

Hyunjin sighs. “Will you go?” 

You wince. “I don’t want to. But if I don’t answer he might call Bin next, and I do not want him to deal with that.” 

Hyunjin smiles, leaning back against the booth. Something sparks in his eyes, and you arch an eyebrow.

“What?” 

“You’re a good friend, Y/N. See what that asshole wants. And if it’s nothing good, which it probably is, punch him in the face.” 

You laugh, shaking Hyunjin’s hand as a promise.

You know you promised Hyunjin, but now that you are here, you are not so sure it is a good idea. Maybe you should have ignored the text. The Scene is the last place you want to be. The pale copy of the Trades. The physical evidence of your friend’s betrayal. 

But you’ll do it. For Changbin.

Someone lets you in when you tell them you have an appointment with Jun-woo. You are still curious what his offer is. Hyunjin convinced you to tell Changbin about it, who urged you to go. I’d rather know, he told you on the phone. 

The second you step foot inside the Scene a bad feeling washes over you. It might be because it brings back extremely negative memories, or it might be the sound of someone playing the drums. You take a few steps forward, and you see them. On the stage, with their instruments, seemingly in the middle of a practice. 

Jisung is slamming on the drums to the rhythm of your heartbeat. He drums like his life depends on it. He plays so hard you think the sticks will break.

You can’t stand there and watch them - an uncomfortable shiver slivers down your spine and you quickly head to the door that leads to Jun-woo’s office. You hate the fact that you still know the place so well. 

You pass in front of the stage as they finish a song and you cross Chris’ eyes. He seems confused to see you there. You wonder if you should linger, but as you open your mouth, Jisung’s drumming starts again, startling you. You look at him smashing his sticks, slamming the pedal against the drum, putting his entire energy in it. Your throat feels dry and tight. Even the other band members glance at him in surprise. 

Holding back your tears, you quickly walk away. 

You stop in front of Jun-woo’s office door, taking a deep breath. You need to be ready for whatever bullshit he’s going to throw your way - because you know it’s what is going to happen. He’s always had a talent for surprising you, in all the worst ways. 

You can do this. 

You knock on the door - a second later, it opens on him. 

Jun-woo is a handsome guy - always has been. Tall, with dark eyes and a wide smile. He has charm, which makes his business efficient, and most of the time, he has good manners. But you know his politeness is a front - you know how much of a hypocrite he is. 

“Y/N,” he grins, gesturing to you to come in. 

You don’t say a word, but you enter the office, arms crossed. He closes the door behind you. 

“What do you want?” you immediately ask.

He doesn’t flinch. “Drink?” 

“Just get to the point,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What was so important you couldn’t say over the phone?” 

Jun-woo shrugs, leaning back against his desk. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You squint your eyes. “Don’t give me that.” 

He sighs, rubbing his eyes - as if you’re the one bothering him. But that’s what is dangerous about Jun-woo. He always makes you feel like you’re to blame, whatever it is he has done. You wonder how many people he has hurt through that. How many more there will be. He’s the kind of person that will never care, that much you know. 

“Side Effects,” he states. 

You clench your jaw. “What about them?” 

“My graphic designer is unable to make the deadline,” he says with a sigh. “I need someone of your expertise.” 

You glare at him. 

“You want me to design your poster?” 

“Yes,” he answers simply. 

“For the concert you’ve stolen from us?” 

“Hardly the word.” 

“It’s what you did,” you spit at him.

“I negotiated,” he retorts, his voice slightly colder. “Not my fault Changbin can’t afford to pay his artists.” 

You see red - you take a step towards him, fists clenched. Jun-woo, however, quickly raises his palm with a large smile. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs. “Spoke too fast. I apologize.” 

“I don’t buy a fucking word that comes out of your mouth,” you reply.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m an asshole, you hate me.” 

You fume at the way he says it. As if it didn’t matter, as if you didn’t matter. It hasn't always been this way. 

Once upon a time we were friends. 

Don’t you remember that, Jun-woo?

Oh, right.

Friendship means nothing to you. 

“Still, Y/N, what do you think? You know I pay well.” 

“How do you know I wouldn’t make something awful?” 

“Your work ethics wouldn’t allow you.” 

The words hit you like a truck, because they are true. You clench your jaw, and he smirks.

“I know you. You haven’t changed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Exactly my point. So? What do you say?” 

You take a step towards him, raising your chin. 

“Two things,” you say. “Fuck you, and fuck off.” 

You spin on your feet to leave, but Jun-woo grabs your wrist and pulls you close to him. The strong smell of his cologne, which he hasn’t changed for years, brings you back to a dark place. It makes you so dizzy, for a second, that you can’t fight back. 

“Be smarter than this, Y/N,” he tells you, his voice low. “I know you are.” 

You close your eyes, pull at your arm - but he holds it tight. 

“Changbin is never going to be able to keep this up. The Jack of Trades has no future.” 

“You keep telling yourself that to feel better,” you reply, spitting venom through each word. “Money isn’t everything, Jun-woo.”

“How honorable of you to say that.” 

He smiles. 

“My door remains open. For when you change your mind.” 

Not if. 

When. 

You’re so angry you don’t even know what to say, and he lets you go without another word. Feeling the tears of anger and shame burn your eyes, you storm out of the office and head back. 

You exit through the back door, your cheeks burning, every inch of you filled with resentment and regret. Your eyes are filled with tears. What did you expect, coming here? That Jun-woo would be reasonable? He’d tried to make you betray Changbin before and of course he would try again - and he would hurt you doing it, too. 

You can never tell Changbin about this. 

You close your eyes, dry your cheeks, take a deep breath, and turn to go through the alley leading to the street. 

Of course, standing there in the narrow alley, leaning against the brick wall, is Han Jisung, smoking a joint. He looks up at you with a weary, suspicious look on his face.

You hesitate. You probably shouldn’t be talking to him. Still, you want to. You can’t. You want to. 

“I really didn’t know,” he says, breaking the silence. “When we…”

“I know,” you mutter. 

He flicks the joint on the ground, crushes it under his combat boot. You look down at your hands, unable to face him. You feel small - so small. 

“If I’d known it would hurt you this much, I never would’ve let it happen.”

“It’s fine, Jisung.” 

“But it’s not even like it’s up to me.”

“I know.” 

“I don’t want you to hate me.” 

You finally look up at him, surprised at his words.

“I don’t hate you,” you frown. 

“You looked like you did. Sounded like it, too.” 

“I was just angry.” 

“You’re not anymore?” 

You sigh, sliding a hand through your hair. 

“I don’t know, Ji. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

It’s his turn to frown, as he stares at your eyes, as if he’s noticing how red and glassy they are. 

“Did something happen?” 

You shake your head, perhaps a little too fast. “No, I’m fine, it’s…” 

You stop as Jisung’s arms pull you closer to him, wrapping you in a tight hug. You’re so surprised at first you can barely move, but as he holds you, and his warmth envelops your body, you relax. Your shoulders drop, and your tears roll down your cheeks. You wrap your fingers around his jacket, burying your face in his chest, and you let yourself cry a little. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all of this,” he whispers against you.

“Me too.” 

He gently pulls your head up with two of his fingers, dropping his lips on your cheeks. On your eyelids. On your nose. Slowly, he kisses the tears away, and you crave for him. He answers your silent pleas, finding your lips with his own, kissing you softly. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers in your mouth. “You and Changbin. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” you breathe, looking at him. “It’s life. It happens.”

“It’s not fair, though.” 

“It rarely is.”

He looks at you attentively. 

“What did he want with you?” 

“Jun-woo?” 

Jisung nods. You let out a shaky breath.

“He wanted me to work for him,” you answer. “To design the poster for your concert.” 

“Why would he ask you? I thought you were enemies.” 

“He wants me to betray Changbin,” you tell him. “Jun-woo hates him. And he knows it would be the thing that would hurt Bin the most. So he keeps trying.” 

Jisung places a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“He’s an idiot,” he says. “Only takes one to believe you would ever betray your friends. I know that much about you.” 

You smile. “He is. An idiot who can’t get over his pride from something that happened years ago.” 

“Some people are like that,” Jisung nods. “Not me, though. I have no pride.” 

The words catch you off guard and a laugh escapes your lips, loud and sincere. It makes Jisung smile widely, and warms your heart. You put your hand against his cheek, caressing his soft skin.  

“Will you come to the Trades tonight?” you ask. “Changbin wants to apologize, but he’s being… a dude about it.” 

Jisung grins. “Of course. Can I buy you a drink, too?” 

You squeeze his cheek.

“We’ll see.”

“I have an important question.”

Minho waves his hand, inviting you to proceed. You lean forward, arching an eyebrow, looking straight in his eyes. He doesn’t move an inch.

“Do you have a forehead?” 

Next to you, Jisung bursts out laughing, and you can’t hold back your smile any longer. It takes a few seconds, but even Minho eventually smirks.

He tilts his head. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

You’re still laughing two minutes later, probably helped by the fact that you’ve smoked some weed and had a few more drinks than you intended. Things just got out of hand. 

Jisung came to the Trades as promised earlier in the evening, and had spent a good thirty minutes talking with Changbin. In the end they shook hands and took a shot together - you don’t know what they’ve talked about but you can guess things are good again. 

It still stings that their performance has been stolen away - but it’s business. And if there’s someone who understands that, it’s your best friend. 

At some point Jisung invited you both to come back to the apartment because it was getting a little too busy at the Trades and he didn’t want to spend his entire night signing autographs, so Changbin took his night off and you all shared a taxi. 

Now Changbin is sharing headphones with Chris, listening to whatever projects the latter is working on, providing what seems to be detailed feedback. The both of them seem to be on their particular planet and you leave them be. They share a passion, after all - music. 

Seungmin, who arrived a few minutes before you did, is playing video games with Felix. Jisung has his arm over your shoulders, holding you close - you’re talking with Minho, who has been showing you the right way to roll a joint. 

You put a hand on your stomach, which has been growling non-stop for about half an hour.

“I’m starving,” you moan, leaning dramatically against Jisung’s shoulder. 

“Then get something to eat,” he says. 

“You have nothing in your fridge. I checked.” 

“I’ll make a snack run,” Minho says, standing up. “We need more beer, anyway.” 

You pout, then after a few seconds, you stand up and stretch a little. 

“Okay. But I’m coming with you.” 

Jisung gives you a long look. “Are you ditching me for him?” 

“He’s offering me food, Ji.” 

“Had to be smarter, man,” Minho smiles as he grabs his wallet and shoves it in his back pocket. 

You grin at Jisung, who stares at you with his mouth open for a second before he shrugs. 

“I’m too lazy to move, anyway,” he exclaims. “Grab me some Twizzlers!”

“Noted!”  

The others give you a few requests, and you head out with Minho. It’s not too late yet, so the streets are still a little busy. You head to the closest gas station, giggling and sharing stories. You’re more tipsy than you thought, and you and Minho have to lock arms to stay steady. 

At some point you stumble on a dent in the pavement and fall on your knees, not very graciously. Minho’s laugh echoes through the night, and he doesn’t stop laughing at you as he helps you up. You can’t stop either, anyway, although your hands and knees - damn those ripped jeans - are all scratched and bloody. 

Once you’re in the gas station, the employee barely gives you a glance and Minho grabs band-aids for you. You pay for them, alongside an embarrassing amount of candy, beer and instant ramen - once you’re outside again, you sit down in front of the station and Minho carefully puts band-aids on your knees. 

“Tell me, Minho,” you say, leaning back on your upper arms. 

“Tell you what?” 

His mouth is parted in focus, his fingers placing the band-aid with care. There are now two on your left and three on your right, but you don’t care. 

“Jisung.” 

“What about him?” 

“How is he, really?” 

Minho shrugs. “He’s the same. He doesn’t change.” 

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your eyes. 

“It’s just - I never thought I’d be that girl, you know,” you sigh. 

“What girl is that?” Minho asks, settling next to you, putting the box of band-aids in the bag. 

“The groupie. The girl he can fuck while he’s in town, the distraction, the addition to the shelf, the temporary, faceless piece of ass he’ll forget all about once he leaves. That girl.” 

“Wow,” Minho whistles as he opens a bag of Sour Patch Kids.

You glare at him, taking the candy he offers you. 

“It’s true. It’s what he does, I know it,” you nod. “Don’t lie to me.” 

“He’s done it before,” Minho nods nonchalantly. “Not everywhere, though.”

You sigh. You know it - so why does it bother you that much? 

“He never spends that much time with them, though.” 

You glance at Minho, who is looking up at the moon. 

“Never sees them again. It’s just a one day or night thing.” 

You scoff. “Yeah. I won’t buy into the whole I’m an exception thing.” 

“Then don’t. But you asked.” 

He shrugs and gives you a smile - the only thing you find to do is pull your tongue at him, so he responds in the same way. 

You head back to the apartment to find two girls have joined the party - who knows where they come from - and Changbin in the kitchen, drinking a soda. You run to him, and show your hands.

“Binnie, loooooooook,” you say with an exaggerated pout. 

Changbin sighs. “What the hell happened?” 

“Fell on her face,” Minho laughs maniacally. 

“Y/N,” Changbin sighs. “We need to disinfect that.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Minho put on some band-aids.” 

You show him your knees and Changbin sighs even more deeply, but he can’t hold back his laughter. Still he insists on disinfecting everything, so he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bathroom. On the way, you see Jisung tapping drumsticks on the coffee table, creating a catchy rhythm. Chris has joined the others for the game. 

Once you’re back from the bathroom, your hands and knees clean, you find that Jisung has prepared your ramen. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek, and when it’s ready you eat it quickly. 

You play a game or two, listen to a track Chris needs advice on, drink and eat some more. The other girls are fun, flirting with the other guys - you can’t help but notice that Jisung doesn’t pay any attention to them. 

He whispers in your ear, commenting on what is happening around you. He’s going to lose the game on purpose. 

I’m sure her boobs are fake. But they’re pretty, right?

Felix told me once a girl squirted on him. 

This is way too much information but you find yourself giggling like crazy, sometimes providing your own insight. When he finishes his beer and sits up to get another, you stop him.

“Nope,” you say, kissing his neck. “That’s enough. Let’s not get too drunk. I want to fuck.” 

“What, with everyone here?” he chuckles. “In this tiny apartment?”

“Yes.” 

He gives you a wide grin. “You’re so fucking cool.”  

He stands up, taking your hand to pull you on your feet, and you stumble against his chest, laughing.

“I didn’t mean now,” you say. 

“Hm, don’t make me wait,” he groans in your ear. “I got hard just hearing you say you want to fuck.” 

“That’s all it takes?” you tease him. 

“Pretty much,” he nods.

“What about when I say…” 

You think for a second, assembling the nastier words you can find, playing with his hands. 

“I want you to fill me up and fuck me from behind,” you tell him. “And then I want you to come in my mouth.” 

Jisung stares at you with dark eyes. 

You giggle. “What do you have to say about that?” 

He smiles, playing with your hair as he kisses your earlobe. “That you need to be a good girl for me and go to my room, now.” 

You bite your lip, take his hand in yours and lead him towards his bedroom. The door is barely closed when Jisung pulls you into a feverish kiss. You pin him against the door, your fingers sliding in his hair as his hands travel on your hips. You can feel his bulge against you, and you can’t blame him - you feel how wet you are already. 

“We can’t be too loud, though,” you chuckle against Jisung’s lips.

He laughs. “Who cares? They know what we’re doing, anyway.” 

You’re not sure you have it in you to argue, so you just kiss him again as he unbuttons your jeans, letting them fall on the floor. Immediately he cups his hand between your legs, feeling the wet fabric of your panties. 

“Good, good,” he groans in your mouth, pushing his index against your clit, making circles.

It draws a loud moan from your lips, slightly muffled by his lips. You remove his jacket, sliding your hands under his black t-shirt, his skin soft and warm against your touch. 

“Come here,” he says.

You lay down on his bed, above the tangled sheets and blankets, and he places a pillow under your head. You watch him as he removes his clothes, doing the same - although he asks you to keep the pink panties. As he stands next to the bed, his cock erect and eager, you can’t help but touch yourself. 

“Baby, wait for me,” he chuckles, moving to lay on top of you.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours, tasting every inch of your lips. His hands massage your breasts, flicking your sensitive nipples, and you whimper in his ear. 

“I love your tits,” he sighs. “Fuck, they’re so pretty.” 

You watch as he takes his cock, slapping it gently against your nipples, rubbing his leaking tip around them. It smears your breasts with the liquid, and you squeeze them together so he can touch them better. 

“Fuck, yeah, keep doing that,” Jisung breathes. 

He slides his cock between your breasts, pumping his hips, fucking himself there. You moan at the sensation, writhing at the way his face scrunches in pleasure. 

“You look so sexy right now, Ji,” you sigh. “You like fucking my tits?” 

“Hell, yeah, baby.” 

You chuckle, and he grins down at you, slowing down his movements to lean to kiss you. You roll your hips, eager to feel him, but he has other plans. His tongue leaves a trail down your neck and collarbone, making its way to your stomach. You arch your back as he kisses your thighs - you keep your eyes on him, although all you want is to close them and lose yourself in the pleasure. 

You play with his hair and he meets your gaze, a cheeky grin on his lips. 

“These are very cute,” he says, nodding to your panties. “Too bad I have to take them off.” 

You laugh, and he grabs the hem by the teeth and pulls them down swiftly. It makes you smile, your soft laugh transforming into a moan as his lips meet your wetness directly. His tongue swirls around your clit, leans against your sensitive folds, makes you see stars. 

“Jisung,” you whisper, pulling his hair a little. 

Waves of pleasure wash over you, making you curl your toes. When you’re close, Jisung spreads your legs wider, kissing you there. 

“Fuck, yes, baby,” he hums. 

You come around his mouth, and he licks you as clean as he can while you try to recover. You breathe out as he comes back to kiss you, one of his hands spreading over yours. You’re wearing matching black nail polish - and you could barely say where his hand ends and yours begins.  

“I love it when you’re a moaning mess,” he says with a smirk. 

You smile back, sliding a finger under the choker he wears - black leather, with a guitar pick dangling from it - to pull him towards you, stealing a kiss. 

“Right back at you,” you whisper. 

You wrap your fingers around his length and he closes his eyes. He’s sensitive, you can feel it - so you guide him between your legs, trapping it there to keep it warm. You’re still sensitive, so you go slow, but slowly you start to roll your hips, rubbing yourself against him. 

Jisung lets out a low groan. 

“How’s that, baby?” you whisper in his ear. 

“Hmm,” he answers simply. 

He moves with you, eyes closed, mouth parted. The friction feels so good, you feel yourself drift away with him - and eventually he shakes his head. 

“I’m gonna come if we keep going,” he breathes. “Can I fuck you, baby?” 

“Yes.” 

It’s a simple answer, but it’s all he needs to know - he quickly grabs a condom from his bedside table, slips it on, and enters you. You’re so wet it’s easy, and you cry out against his shoulder. 

He fucks you for a while, slowly and deeply, your legs wrapped around him. You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him and realize he’s already looking at you, his eyes slightly glassy and red. The edge of his hair is slightly wet from sweat, his eyeliner smudged. His thrusts are measured, although never quite regular, and you can’t think about anything else, there is only him and you. 

His forehead comes to rest against yours. He smiles.

���Don’t think I forgot about your request,” he breathes. 

You bite your lip. He slips out of you and accompanies your hips as you roll on your stomach, getting on your knees, arching your ass for him. His hand squeezes it, and you can feel him align himself at your entrance. 

“So beautiful,” you hear him say, as his tip pushes inside you. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Jisung…”

You’re not sure what you were about to say - perhaps something you would have regretted, something that comes from a vulnerable place. But Jisung enters you, and you forget about everything. All you want to feel, all you want to hear, is him. 

At this angle, he is so deep inside you, hitting all the spots to make you breathless. 

Your fingers grab the sheets as Jisung starts to pound into you. You lose all sense of time, your pleasure derailing your thoughts. You clench around him, unable to stop your climax from coming.

“That’s good, baby,” he whispers. “That’s good. Keep doing that.” 

“Ji - I’m coming…” 

“Go ahead, baby,” he grunts. 

“Fuck, don’t stop -” 

Your body shakes as your orgasm flashes through you. Jisung quickly follows you, throbbing inside of you until you both stop moving, breathing heavily. 

He removes the condom and falls on the bed beside you. You’re both covered in sweat, but you don’t care - you snuggle against him, wanting to feel his warm body. You place soft kisses here and there, while he lets his fingertips travel on your skin. 

It only takes a few minutes for Jisung to fall asleep, but you can’t. 

You’re falling too deep, and you don’t know how to get out. 

Your thoughts assail you, and as time passes and the noise outside the room calms down, you find yourself unable to sleep. You give Jisung a tender look, put a kiss on his forehead and stand up from the bed. You cover his body with a blanket, making sure he’s comfortable. As for you, you grab his discarded t-shirt - it smells so much like him, and you already have his smell on you, it’s making you go crazy - and a pair of sweatpants and you leave the room quietly. 

It seems like most people have gone to bed - although from the soft noises you hear coming from Chris’ room, he’s getting lucky tonight. You smile to yourself, heading towards the living room. 

There you find Minho, who’s fallen asleep in the window nook. You search for Changbin, and eventually find him in the kitchen, eating a bowl of instant ramen. You put your head on his shoulder, hugging him from behind. He gives you a glance. 

“Nice perfume you got there,” he teases you. “What’s it called? Drummer guy?” 

You pull your tongue at him, but he keeps smiling. You sit down next to him, and he hands you his chopsticks so you can take a bite or two. 

“Are you all right?” he asks softly. 

He knows you better than anybody, after all, and you don’t want to hide from him, so you shrug. 

“I am,” you say. “And I’m not.” 

He nods, puts a hand on your wrist. 

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You will never be alone.” 

You smile at him. “I know.”

There you go! I hope the angst wasn't too much - hate on the bad guy, it helps, he's here for that. & Don't worry, karma's a bitch in this one. ♡ If you enjoyed this please consider leaving a comment through the replies or a reblog, it is always much appreciated. Lots of love guys and see you for the part three! ♡

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @raspbinniecreme ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134

• story taglist: @mintquokka ; @is2cb97 ; @dirah-h ; @bokk-minnie ; @allypasta ; @strawberriesandknives ; @drhsthl ; @hyunjins-red-lights ; @thesunsfullmoon ; @hanstan34 ; @brit97 ; @downbadreading ; @phobia0325; @hanjiphile (tumblr won't let me tag you sorry ;_;)

[here4kpopfics]

Feeling in Chaos - Fall pt. 2 | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader  

Genre: drama, angst, smut

AU: art college!au, friends to lovers, best friend’s brother

Wordcount: 12,670

Summary: It’s time to talk about it. 

Rating: M / 18+ 

Warnings: Language. Grief. Panic attacks. MC has PTSD and is learning how to get through it. Jealousy. Self-loathing. Ryujin’s trying. Koo’s going through something. Possibly problematic friendship/relationship. 

Smut Warnings: None, just mentions of the smut in the previous chapter. 

AN: Ah, so…surprise? Over two months later…This chapter has a lot going on. A lot of much needed conversations and finally some attempts to move forward. I have nothing further to add, except for my apologies for it being late. 😅Thank you to the soulmate @playmetheclassics for beta reading. ily

Banner and Divider by @classicscreations

Masterlist | Taglist | AskBox | Coffee?

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When you finally get to the club, you glance around to ensure Ryujin isn’t outside. You walk to the front of the line and get the security guard’s attention.

“I’m sorry, my friend is in there, she’s drunk, and I just need to get her out and take her home. Is there any way I can just go in and grab her?” 

The tall buff man that could honestly give The Rock a run for his money shakes his head. 

“Sorry, miss. I’ve heard that line one too many times. You’ll have to wait in line with the others.” 

“Please? She’s grieving, and I just. I need to get her home before she does something she regrets.” 

He only shakes his head again and points towards the back of the line. You sigh, grabbing your phone and calling her again. She answers, but you can barely hear her over the thumping bass. 

“Ry? I’m outside. They won’t let me in. Come out, and we can go home.” 

“Wha? Where are yo—?”

Her voice cuts off as the call ends. You groan in annoyance, getting in the stupid long line to get in the shitty building. 

The sense of panic sets in again as you wait. How do you get her home? What do you say? Do you let her speak? Do you wait until she’s sober to talk? Or do you yell at her now and hope she remembers? How the fuck are you going to get her home? Yoongi was right. But, fuck, you can’t get him involved in this. You’ve already gotten too close to him tonight. You can’t do it anymore. 

You go to your contacts, pressing the call button and hating yourself already. It only rings twice before he picks up. 

“Y/n? Are you okay? Are you still at the studio?” Your heart cracks at the voice laced with worry. 

“No, Jungkook. I left already.”

“Where are you? Because you’re not at your apartment.”

“Have you been waiting there?” Your voice falters. The image of him waiting in your apartment while you’re on the couch in your studio getting fucked and almost confessed to by your group therapy buddy flashing in your mind makes you want to scream. 

He stays silent, answering your question without saying a word. 

“Kookie…I need your help.” You exhale a shaky breath, trying to stay focused. 

“What happened? Did he do something?” There’s a certain bite in his voice that feels like an attack on you, but you set it aside, planning on stressing over it later. 

“No, Koo. He didn’t do anything. It’s Ry. She’s at this club or bar or whatever, she’s shitfaced and called me, and I’m waiting outside, but I…I don’t know how to get her home.” 

He gives it a moment after your voice trails off, finally speaking again after a while. 

“You want me to come get you two?” His voice is softer, but still tense, and you hate it. 

“Yes, please…” you quietly admit, and you can hear the sound of his keys moving as he tells you to send the address via text and to wait for him. 

This feels too familiar.

“Jungkook?” You quickly speak up before he hangs up. 

“Yes, y/n?”

“Please drive carefully.” you feel your stomach twist, “get here safely, okay?” 

He doesn’t need to ask why you’re saying these things. He knows. You know he knows. He reassures you he’ll be okay, hanging up only when you’re ready, and you look back down at your phone as the call ends. 

Five minutes later, you’re almost at the front of the line when you see Ryujin stumbling out of the building, looking around in confusion. 

“Ry!” You shout as you finally escape the line, much to the satisfaction of the people behind you. You want to run to her, but she’s still a ticking time bomb, and you’re already on edge enough that you don’t want to risk her wrath even if she was the one that called you.

“Y/n!” She shouts back, tears streaming down her face as she runs to you. You let her hug you first, hesitantly hugging her back and only tightening your hold when she starts sobbing against your shoulder. 

“Hey hey hey, I’m here. It’s okay, Ry. What happened?” You don’t expect an answer and don’t let go, just letting her desperately hold onto you and cry. 

When she finally lets go of you, you guide her to sit on the curb. It’s gross, but it’s away from the club goers passing by, and it’s still within sight of the security guard. Your hands never leave her, one on her back and the other gripping one of hers like if you let go, she’d vanish from you too. 

You stay silent for her, watching her battle with the thoughts in her head and the words behind her ruby-red lips. You look away, down the street to see if Jungkook’s car would be in view, but you wanted to give her more space.

“I don’t blame you.” Her voice cracks, and your neck almost snaps when turning back to her. 

“What?” You’re afraid to ask in case it all goes wrong. 

“For…for Kai’s death. I don’t blame you. I never did.” Her grip on your hand tightens, and the tears fall again across her beautiful face. “I know it’s not your fault. But I just…I needed someone to hate, someone that isn’t me.”

Her? Why? Why would she…?

“Ry, what do you mean someone that isn’t you?” 

She finally looks up at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she relives memories you have no idea about. Moments she wishes she could forget or do over. 

“It doesn't matter now.” She shakes her head, holding your hand close to her chest. “Please, y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You’re my best friend and there’s no excuse for the things I said. Please don’t hate me. I can’t lose you, too.”

You look at your best friend. The girl that was born a day before you in the same hospital. The girl that asked to draw with you on the playground. The girl that yelled at anyone and everyone that dared say anything bad about you. The girl that held you as you cried over your first heartbreak. And your second, third, fourth… 

The girl that, despite coming across as perfect to the world, bared her soul, fears, and insecurities to you one night after sneaking into her parents’ liquor cabinet. The girl that promised to be by your side for forever when your parents said you’d be nothing. The girl you watched fall in love with your brother, having the most beautiful and loving relationship with him. 

The girl who fell apart just as badly as you did. But instead of seeking help, she burned the world around her down, starting with you. 

Her name quietly escapes your lips, but before you can say anything else, Jungkook pulls up against the curb next to you. He quickly exits the car to squat down in front of you both, eyes meeting yours briefly before turning his attention to his sister. 

He looks exhausted. 

“Hey, Rybread. You okay?” He gently grabs her free hand, bringing her attention away from you and to him instead. She nods, a broken sob escaping when Jungkook helps her stand, you having to stand with her because her hand is still tightly gripping yours. 

“Let’s get you two home, yeah?” He gently speaks to only her, still refusing to look at you for more than a second. You carefully pull your hand away from Ryujin, watching Jungkook help his sister enter the backseat. When she’s finally in, seatbelt on, head leaning back, eyes closed, he looks back at you. 

You hate the sadness in those big beautiful brown eyes. Hate the dark bags forming underneath them. Hate that you’re probably the cause of some of it. 

“Are you okay to sit in the backseat or do you need to be upfront?” His question is as monotone as he can make it, but you can still pick up on the notes of concern in his words.

You open your mouth to speak, eyes glancing between the backseat and the passenger’s seat, when Jungkook shuts Ryujin’s door a little harsher than necessary, causing you both to jump. 

“Upfront it is. Come on.” He mumbles, opening the passenger’s side door before returning to  the driver’s seat with a huff. 

You get in only when he’s put his seatbelt on and turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. You put your seatbelt on, backpack across your lap and fingers toying with the straps for a moment before a big hand reaches for your left hand.

His fingers intertwine with yours, settling on his lap, his free hand on the steering wheel, effortlessly pulling away from the curb and driving off. 

Your eyes stay on the road, trying to watch every car while simultaneously trying to remind yourself to breathe. At every stop light, Jungkook brings your joined hand to his chest, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand until the light turns green and you’re past the intersection. 

You say nothing, forcing the fear deep down inside to deal with when you’re alone. Your right hand grips the door handle like you’re bracing for impact, and it takes everything in you not to scream to pull over. The last time you were in a car was on the way home from the funeral. You were so ready to jump out of the car on the highway, actually opening the door at one point, not caring what happened to you, only about getting out.

“You need to breathe, y/n.” His voice is gentle but still in that monotone voice. It doesn’t match the way his thumb is soothing over your hand or how tightly he’s holding it. 

You hadn’t realized you were barely taking any breaths, afraid if you did, you’d scream or cry. You still don’t respond, only squeezing his hand in response as you take a deep breath, shakingly exhaling after. 

“I’m trying. It’s just—” you look down for a moment, your free hand playing with the zipper on your back, “I’m too focused on not panicking. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” His voice is losing the monotone effect, and you sneak a glance at his face. His jaw is clenched, and he looks anything but soft, more stoic instead. 

“I don’t know…I’m sure there’s a list of shit I need to apologize for that’s so long, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

“The top, usually.” He’s quick to respond, and you have to fight the urge to give even the smallest smile. 

“The top…the top says ‘I’m sorry you met me and got dragged into this.’”

“Well, that’s a stupid apology.” He says after a moment. “You didn’t know what would happen when we were kids. If you did, I’d have many questions. One being lottery numbers.”

You quietly laugh to yourself. Eyes jumping from the roads, to your hand in his, and his face that still won’t look at you. You’re partially relieved he’s keeping his eyes on the road. 

“And I’m not sorry I met you. You’re insanely frustrating at times. You drive me to be a jealous mess of hopelessness plagued by unrequited love. But I’m not sorry I met you. Not even a little bit. I’d rather have you in my life than out of it.” 

You stare at him, lips parting with no words able to form. He’s confessed in various ways so many times now, and it feels like a punch in the gut every time. This time, however, feels more like a stab to the heart. 

“…it’s not hopeless, Jungkook.” You swallow thickly, looking away from him and focusing on his hand wrapped around your own instead. “And it’s not unrequited…”

“Feels a lot like it…”

You say nothing, the car stopping in the apartment complex. 

You barely even registered the rest of the drive home once he started talking. Your breathing was steadied, your heart rate was racing, albeit for a different reason, and you weren’t trying to escape the car. 

Jungkook gets out first, walking around to get to Ryujin sitting behind you. You quietly get out, watching him try to coax her awake, eventually giving up and handing you the keys before scooping her out of the car. 

You lock the car when he’s got her, following behind inside to the elevator and to the apartment, neither speaking except for random gibberish from your tipsy sleeping best friend. 

He sits her down on the counter in the bathroom while you grab her a change of clothes. He leaves the both of you alone so you can help her remove her makeup and do your best to take her through her beauty routine. She'd always go on about how she could never miss a day, walking you through each step for moments like this. 

What feels like ages later, you finally emerge from the bathroom, letting her change in private, and head back down to the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the armrest of the couch with palms running across his face while you lean against the wall. 

The atmosphere is awkward. You don’t know what to say, so you pull out your phone, remembering your spat with Yoongi. 

Y/N (3:35 am): hey. I’m home. I hope you made it back okay. I’m really sorry about what I said. You didn’t deserve that. 

You hit send and watch as it switches from delivered to read within seconds. The typing bubbles appear moments later. 

Yoongi (3:35 am): Apologize with pie. 

A shaky giggle escapes your lungs before you can catch it, and Jungkook scoffs. 

Your head snaps up to the sound, wide eyes and body frozen. He shakes his head, eyes cast to the floor. You lower your gaze back to the phone, trying to decide what to type next when he finally speaks to you. 

“So why didn’t Yoongi come with you to get Ry?” You look back up at him; he’s still trying to stay neutral, a stoic demeanor that doesn’t care. 

“Koo–” 

“I mean, it’s kind of a dick move to let a woman walk alone at this hour, isn’t it?” He crosses his arms, repositioning his stance as if he’s uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t want him to come with me. He insisted but I yelled at him…” you sigh, briefly looking back at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “I didn’t want him to get involved in all of this.” you gesture all around you, mostly towards Ryujin’s door and Jungkook himself. 

He stares you down, tilting his head to the side and even though he’s not directly in front of you or right next to you, his stare makes you feel small. It feels suffocating - like he’s hovering above you and you’re backed into a corner. 

His eyes scan your face, your bruised lips, the very light, barely there yet hickies on your neck as well as the guilty expression. His eyes widen, and the stoic demeanor is gone, replaced by one you can’t quite read, but know all too well.  

“It’s not just sex, is it? There are feelings there.” His question knocks the wind out of you, and you shrink down even more. 

“I don’t know.” the only response you can bring yourself to say that won’t hurt either of you.

You were wrong. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? Either you like him, or you don’t.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Ryujin’s door opens just as you do. She stands at the top of the stairs in the pajamas you picked out, and she looks exhausted, eyes swollen and puffy from crying. You rip your attention away from her brother when she mumbles your name. 

You rush to grab her hand, bringing her back to her room and guiding her to her bed. She gets in, but the tears start streaming again. 

“He’s really gone…” she whispers, pulling the covers to her chin. 

You nod, Jungkook comes in after you with water and pills for her to take. Ryujin shakes her head. 

“No. The smell. He’s gone. I could sleep because I could smell him in the sheets. Now it’s gone.”

This is the longest she’s spoken to you since before the crash. And you’re still scared of her reaction to your responses. So you tell her to wait, going back to her bathroom and forcing yourself to open the cabinet he took over when he kept staying the night, finding the little bottle you were hoping to find. 

You were secretly hoping to break into her room one day to find the bottle and keep it for yourself. But you kept reminding yourself she probably needed it more. 

When you come back, you tell her to give you her pillow, and she obliges. You take the cap off the cologne bottle, spraying the pillow lightly as it dangles in your hand away from you. You hand it back to her, smiling a little when she hugs it, taking a deep breath. 

“It smells like him…” she murmurs, laying back down, pillow resting under her head. 

“I know it’s not the same, but hopefully it helps enough.” You whisper, lightly petting her hair as her eyes close and a small smile forms.

“We should buy it in bulk. So it can always smell like him.” you let out a shaky laugh.

“I’ll get right on that, Ry. Now get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay.”

You get up to leave the room, Jungkook starting to lead the way when a small hand wraps around your wrist. You turn to look at Ryujin who looks panicked.

“Y/n, you forgive me, right?”

You open your mouth to respond but, for what feels like the millionth time tonight, are cut off before you can form words.

“You do, right? You know I didn’t mean any of it. I would never. Please. Please say you forgive me.”

You say nothing, looking to Jungkook for help. He stands at the doorway, hands in his hoodie’s pocket, seemingly uninterested in this conversation. You sigh, turning back to her, gently grabbing the hand attached to your wrist to peel her off you, but her grip tightens.

“We’ll talk about this when you’re sober, Ry, okay? Get some sleep.”

“No. Not until you forgive me.”

“Ry.” your voice shakes, a piercing pain in your eyes as you can feel the tears forming.

“Y/n, please,”

“I…–”

“Ryujin, stop.” Jungkook interjects, both you and his sister looking towards the owner of the stern voice.

“Let her go. Go to bed. She’ll talk to you about it when you’re sober.” 

You both stay silent, your eyes glued to her grip on your wrist, hers bouncing between you, her brother, and her hold on you. After a few moments, she finally lets go, laying back down and hugging her pillow.

“Okay. Tomorrow…” she whispers in defeat.

“Tomorrow.” you mimic the word, pulling her blanket back over her to keep her warm before finally shuffling out of the room, walking past Jungkook, who closes the door once you’re both out. 

You run your fingers through your hair, steadying your breathing, so you don’t cry in front of Jungkook more than you already have. 

You both lean against the back of the couch this time. Both are dead silent as you figure out who should speak first. Your eyes cast down to the floor, watching his feet shift as he tries to find a more comfortable stance.

“You shouldn’t forgive her.” You look up at him to see he was doing the same thing as you, eyes to the ground. 

“What?”

“You shouldn’t forgive Ryujin.”

“Jungkook. She…she didn’t mean it—”

“No, y/n. Have you not heard the shit she’s been screaming at you? Have you not heard the shit she’s accused you of?” He turns to face you, his voice a harsh whisper. 

“Do you not remember how fucking terrible she’s made your life the last two months? You’ve had to fucking sneak into your apartment, change your schedules to be the opposite of hers, so you don’t run into her.”

“I…” your words stumble over one another in your mind.

“She’s my best friend, Jungkook. She’s grieving. I…her world just got crushed. What do you expect me to do? Just sever all ties with her and leave? Leave her to be all by herself? And what about you? You’re her brother, Jungkook. If I do that with her, I do that with you. And I’m not going to do that. Not with the two people that mean more than anything to me.”

Fuck not again. Please don’t cry again. 

“I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow. I won’t forgive her until I know she means it. I’m so fucking tired right now, so can we please just end this conversation?” 

The words rush out in a few short breaths, tears still threatening to escape when you look at him. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. His facial expression holds many different emotions. His eyes are sad, angry, desperate, and scared. 

“Fine.”

You fucked up again. Twice in one night. Way to go, y/n, you idiot. 

“I’ll head home. Good luck.” He turns away from you, but before you can think it through, your hand grabs his wrist like his sister did to you moments ago. 

“It…it’s almost three in the morning. Just stay here.”

You’re both staring at his wrist, captured by your fingers, and in the quiet, you give a small squeeze, pleading. But his next words feel like a direct stab to the heart. 

“Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with that?” 

“He’s not…”

“Please stop lying to me. Just admit there’s something there so I can try to move on, like really try.” 

No. 

Don’t move on. 

You’re mine. 

I won’t let you go. 

“Koo…” the name barely falls from your lips. “I can’t.” 

In the blink of an eye, he’s trapped you between his body and the back of the couch. Both hands, yours still clutching his wrist, cup your face and tilting you to look up at him. 

“You can’t be honest with me? Or you can’t admit there’s something there with him?” 

You close your eyes to prevent the tears, but they win, escaping down your cheeks only to be caught and wiped away by his thumbs. 

Your name is a soft pleading whisper on his lips, making you want to crawl into a cave forever. You can only say the first thing that comes to your mind. 

“Please…just stay.” 

You feel his forehead press against yours, noses touching, lips mere inches away from his. 

Just do it. Lean forward. His lips are right there. Just give in. You know it’s always going to be him. 

Do it.

But you don’t, and neither does he, instead breathing out a heavy sigh, pulling away from you, and unwrapping your grip from his wrist. 

“I can’t be your second anymore, y/n.” 

“You’re not.” Just say it. Admit it. Fucking do it.

“I am, though. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t hesitate. You wouldn’t look at me with all that fear in your eyes. Tell me, do you hesitate with him?”

You don’t respond, trying to find the best answer.

“Your silence is so loud, y/n.” He backs away from you, heading upstairs to your room to grab the extra blankets and pillows you’d usually have on standby for when he’d stay over. He walks back into the living room, ignoring your hurt expression.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and be out before you wake up.”

“Jungkook…” 

“Stop, y/n. Just…end it there, okay?” you want to run to him, kiss him, tell him he’s number one. He will always be number one. Yoongi is nothing compared to him. You should. You should move your feet right now.

But you don’t. 

You hesitate.

And instead, he sets up the bedding on the couch before looking at you again.

“Goodnight.” He turns off the living room light, covering the area in complete darkness as he lays down on the couch. 

You sniffle, muttering a quiet apology before slinking away to the stairs to your room. Once the door is closed, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, screaming internally. You allow yourself five seconds to cry before opening your eyes and staring off into space in an attempt to silence the voices and the pain. 

It doesn’t. 

They just get louder.

You force yourself into your bathroom to turn on the shower. You watch yourself in the mirror as you slowly shed your clothing, piece by piece, like you’re removing everything that happened today with every fabric. Once you’re in your bra and underwear, you look back in the mirror at the bites and handprints on your hips where Yoongi had gripped you tight at one point. 

The painting of the music notes on your thigh. 

You feel sick. 

You quickly shed the bra and underwear, throwing them in the trash before showering. You grab your body wash, squeezing out more than needed onto your loofah and scrubbing away at your skin. 

You cry out in pain, not realizing you’re scrubbing yourself raw, trying to get the feeling of Yoongi off your skin. Anywhere he touched, breathed, or kissed suddenly felt like acid, and you needed it off you. You stay in the scalding hot shower for thirty minutes, trying to get him off your skin and out of your hair, muttering curse words the entire time. 

When you finally leave the shower, you feel like you are running on autopilot. You change into some clean pajamas, dry your hair, and drag yourself through a quick skin routine, playing some music on your AirPods while doing so. 

You sit on your bed, staring at your closed bedroom door. You want to open it and get on the couch with him, cuddle with him like you used to, tell him it’s always him, and just be with him in every way you can.

Stop hesitating.

You throw the blankets off you, forcing yourself out of bed and padding over to the bedroom door, opening it confidently and heading down the stairs.

But you stop halfway.

Your body stills as you listen to him lightly snoring, and you flash to a few weeks ago when he confessed to having trouble sleeping. He wouldn’t say why, he wouldn’t say if it was related to Kai, and he didn’t go any further in his explanation other than it’s hard for him to sleep lately.

So you back away from the doorway, leaving the door open, and crawl back in bed. You won’t be why he can’t get back to sleep just because you need him. 

An hour later, you wake up to someone crying. You sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the tears you assume you’re shedding. But there’s nothing there. No tears, just a puffy and tired face. 

You listen closer. It can’t be Ryujin. Her door is closed, and she’s out cold. It’s shockingly not you, which means it’s only one other person. 

Jungkook?

You throw the blankets off of you, quietly rushing down the stairs and peaking into the living room. He’s on the couch, still asleep but sniffling and whimpering. 

You tip-toe over to him as he lays there in his sleep, tears escaping closed eyes and body shaking in fear.

Is this what he was talking about?

Is this every night?

Why didn’t he say anything?

“Jungkook?” You try whispering his name, but he doesn’t respond. You try again, a little louder, and place a hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake. 

Gently, being the keyword. 

It apparently wasn’t.

Jungkook wakes up terrified, smacking your hand away from him and cowering back into the couch in fear. 

“Koo, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s y/n. I’m sorry. I’m so sor—.” 

You’re pulled into a hug before you can finish apologizing, one hand grabbing your arm to pull you to him, the other wrapping around your shoulders. You instinctively crawl onto the couch, curling up with him as he buries his face in your neck, tears streaming down his cheeks as he hyperventilates in your arms. 

You hold him as close as you can, your legs wrapped  around him, acting as a weighted blanket. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” You whisper against his temple, wincing a little when the hand gripping your arm finds your back, grasping your shirt. His nails dig into the skin on the back of your neck. 

You give him a few more minutes to panic in your arms before easing his face away from your neck, cradling his face in your hands. 

“How often has this been happening, Koo?” His eyes close, shaking his head as he tries to bury back into your neck. You stop him, pulling further away. 

“Jungkook, talk to me.” 

“Almost every night…”

Not again. 

“Why didn’t you say anything? To me? To Ryujin?” 

He stumbles over a few words, trying to figure out the answer. His hands let go of your shirt before grabbing it again seconds later, as if he has to remind himself he has control and isn’t dreaming anymore. 

“It’s nothing.”

“It's not nothing, Jungkook, if you’re having nightmares again every night...”

“They’re not nightmares.”

“No?” You raise an eyebrow, “then what are they?”

“They’re just dreams, y/n.” He shuts down the conversation, and you have no choice but to follow along. 

“Fine. Let’s go back to my bed and sleep there, then.”

“I’m fine down here.”

“I don’t care. I want to make sure you’re okay. Can I do that? You do it for Ry and me every day. Let someone else be there for you. Please?”

He lets out a heavy sigh before mumbling in agreement. You disconnect from him, getting off the couch and helping him get up. His eyes meet yours, and your heart cracks at the sight. His eyes are red, eyelids puffy from the tears he never shows. You frown, wrapping his hand in yours, keeping it close as you climb the stairs to your room. 

He lets go of your hand as you both crawl into your bed, laying on your back to let him curl up against you. His face finds its way back between your neck and shoulder, and you can’t help the goosebumps that appear all over your body from his breath on your skin.

Neither of you say anything. Probably for the best. 

You fall asleep in that position, Jungkook’s tattooed fingers mindlessly dancing along the side of your waist over your shirt. One hand tangled in his hair, softly massaging his head while your other hand rests on his forearm draped across your stomach. 

For just a moment, you forget everything that’s wrong with this. For just a moment, it’s back before everything went to shit, and this was enough for both of you. 

When you wake up the next morning, which was really a few hours later, you’re still in the same position. The only difference is Jungkook’s legs have tangled up with yours, and his hand found a way under your shirt, lightly holding onto your side. His touch feels scalding hot against your skin. The breathing on your neck gives you goosebumps. Your hands are still in the same position. 

You’re about to wake him up when there’s a soft knock on the door before it slowly opens. 

Ryujin enters quietly; her eyes cast to the ground like a child knowing she’s in trouble. You know that look all too well. It’s the same look Jungkook gave when he accidentally broke the bottle of one of your more expensive paints, letting it spill all over the floor. 

Big round brown eyes, like a puppy pleading its innocence. 

When she looks up, her eyes widen at seeing her brother wrapped around your body. She shoots you a questioning look, and you have no choice but to quietly whisper nightmare in hopes she doesn’t get it confused. 

Her face softens with a frown at the realization of the word. 

“That’s supposed to be my job…I’m supposed to be there for him when it happens.”

You sigh, your hand moving from his hair.

“We’re all still trying to figure this out, Ry. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m not… I’m… I’m not. I just feel like I failed him. Like I failed you…”

“You’re not failing any—” You cut yourself off when Jungkook’s head moves, pressing his face even closer to your neck for a moment before his eyes open. 

“Who are you talking to?” He mumbles, still half asleep. His voice is low and husky and it kills you that you have to ignore it, as well as ignore the way his hand squeezes your side as he readjusts to get comfortable. 

“Ryujin’s here…” 

He lifts his head to look around the room, tired eyes landing on his sister. His fingers dig into your side momentarily as the siblings make eye contact. Jungkook finally lets go of you, muttering a soft oh, and pulling away from you and out of the bed. 

“I’m gonna make breakfast…” he speaks softly, giving his sister a small hug before turning back to you. 

“Thank you…for earlier…” you nod in response, not sure what to say to either of them anymore. 

When he leaves the room, there’s an awkward silence in the air. Ryujin’s gaze is locked on where her brother was just laying and yours is on her, trying to figure out what’s happening. 

And then it hits you. 

All the times she’d come over after a fight with another friend, a disagreement with Jungkook, one of the few fights with Kai, or just when all the pressures of life got too much. She’d crawl into your bed just like Jungkook did and wrap her body around yours and fall asleep in your arms. 

You called it a Jeon Thing. 

You opened your arms up hesitantly, second guessing if that’s what she’s thinking of. But you didn’t have to wait too long before her eyes lit up a little and she’s hurrying to crawl in next to you, replicating the position Jungkook was just in, except her head rests softly on your shoulder and the hand across your stomach is playing with the fabric rather than touching your skin. 

You stay completely still, still terrified of her explosions. But they don’t come, instead she sniffles. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” You have to stay calm. Don’t give in too easily. 

“I’m really fucking sorry, y/n”

“Be more specific.” You slow your breathing, making sure you’re not the one that explodes. 

But maybe you should. 

Ryujin buries her face in your shoulder before speaking. 

“For everything. Being horrible to you. Blaming you. Saying the shit that I said…”

That’s it? That’s the apology?

Jungkook’s words from last night loop in your head rapidly, and you’re speaking before you can stop yourself, sitting up and dislodging her, forcing her to sit up facing you.

“You accused me of killing my brother, Ryujin. My brother. The one fucking person I could always count on. The one person in my family that believed in me and encouraged me to do what I wanted to do. You called me a murderer. You said it should’ve been me, Ry. You said you’d rather I have died instead of Kai. You said that about your best friend. Me. Do you hear how fucked up that is?”

Her eyes well up with tears, yours already escaping like a pro, as she fists the blankets in her hands, scared to look up. 

“I…I’m sor—”

“Ry, I’m terrified of you. You know that, right? I have to fucking sneak into our apartment. I changed my schedule at school to avoid you. I fucking went to the studio last night because I never want to come home. I stay with Yoongi a few times after group therapy until I think you might be asleep because, as stupid of a decision that is, it hurts less than coming home to my best friend telling me I murdered my fucking brother.” 

Ryujin opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She continues pulling at the fabric of the sheets in front of her as you watch the gears in her mind turn, trying desperately to come up with some form of words.

This was always her weakness. Being told she did wrong, being told she fucked up, and there wasn’t some easy fix. One time in high school, she was so sleep-deprived from studying the night before a midterm, that she mismarked every answer on the scantron, thinking the answers were for the question before. When the teacher told her she had failed, she lost all ability to function, too shocked to speak. You had to talk to the teacher to find out what was wrong, begging him to let her retake it the next day. 

But this isn’t high school. This isn’t a test she can just retake. There is no fix for this. The only thing she can do is accept that she fucked up.

The silence is deafening, save for the sound of Jungkook downstairs in your kitchen making food and the morning hustle and bustle outside. She keeps trying to speak, but it’s getting harder and harder for you to tolerate.

“Ry…” she stays frozen. “Ry, look at me.” You grab both of her hands, stopping her from potentially ripping your sheets. When she finally looks up, tears running down her face, you give her a tiny comforting smile.

“I love you, Ryujin. You know I do, and I always will,” you start, and she whispers I love you, too back, smiling through the tears. “Our bond is unbreakable, and you and I both know we will always be there for each other through thick and thin. But this? The things you said? Ry, I can’t just easily forgive you when you say sorry.”

“I…I know. But what do I do? How? How do I fix this?”

“You can’t. That’s the problem. This is something that only time can fix, and I wish that wasn’t the case. But I’m scared of being around you right now, Ry. Even right now, I’m afraid you’ll launch an attack and spew vile accusations at me.”

“No. I won’t. I won’t do that. Ever again.”

You smile, but it falters fast. 

“I don’t think it’ll be okay until you take the initiative to get help. Talk to someone, Ry—a professional. And stop drinking so much, eat something, design your pretty dresses again, work on the showcase, and take time for yourself. It sucks, it’s scary, and it sounds miserable, I know. But until you come back to being my Ryujin? I can’t do this with you anymore.”

Her eyes widen, hands gripping yours. 

“What does that mean?”

Suddenly it’s hard to look at her. You’ve been sitting on this decision for a while but didn’t think you’d ever have to make it officially. 

“I think it might be better for us both if I move out for a bit…”

“…no”

“Ry…” she shakes her head repeatedly. “We need to figure this out separately. I can’t baby you into getting help. And you can’t deal with me and my bullshit while you’re trying to heal. I’ll still be here when you need me. I’ll be here if you need help with your project. I’m not leaving, leaving. I could never leave you. You’re my person.”

“But where are you gonna go?” 

“I…don’t know. Maybe the studio?” 

“But there’s no shower there.”

Fuck. There isn’t. 

“What if you stay with Jungkook?” 

Your face heats up at the idea of living with Jungkook, but your stomach drops at the idea of being so close to Kai’s stuff. 

“I don’t think I can…”

“He’s miserable, you know.” Her voice softens, and her hands move out from under yours to be the ones holding on this time. 

“I think he’s afraid to be alone. He hasn’t talked about Kai unless someone starts the conversation, but he shuts it down fast. He’s so focused on you that I don’t think he’s realized how much help he needs. Maybe staying with him can help.” 

“I didn’t ask him to focus on me.” You try not to sound defensive. She knows that, choosing to ignore the tone. 

“We both know he didn’t choose to. It’s a part of who he is. You are a part of who he is, no matter what.”

Are you, though? Or is he a part of who you are? He could replace you so easily if you just let him go. You know that. He must know that. Maybe that’s why he wants you to tell him to move on. That you and Yoongi are a thing. 

He wants to replace you with anyone who makes him less sad.

Anyone but you. 

“Hey,” Ryujin’s voice cuts through your thoughts, your eyes looking up at her in a panic. “I see where your mind is right now. Stop whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“But—”

“I don’t care. Whatever you’re telling yourself to make yourself think he wouldn’t want to have you by his side every moment of every day is a lie, and you know it.”

You don’t respond, mind running a mile a second, and all you want to do is go back to sleep. 

“I…I understand if you feel you need to move out and get some space from me temporarily. I would never hold that against you, y/n. But please go with someone I know so I can know you’re okay. What even is a Yoongi?”

Your body freezes at his name. Of course she doesn’t know Yoongi. Of course she doesn’t know you’re sleeping with someone from group therapy. Of course she doesn’t know you went to the studio with him last night and fucked on your couch while you only thought about Jungkook. 

“A mistake. I think…” your gaze stays focused on Ryujin’s hands holding yours, eyes burning from the tears threatening to return for the nth time. 

“Y/n…you’re doing it again, aren’t you?” She’s careful not to sound judgmental, but you can still feel it. 

“No. No. I’m…I’m not.” You shake your head, shutting your eyes tight. “I’m trying not to. It’s just sex. But last night…I fucked up. And then you called. And then we argued. And then Jungkook…”

She stays silent, and it drives you crazy that you can’t read her mind.

“I’m gonna end it with him. Whatever it is. I can’t…keep doing this. I’m tired, Ry. I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know, babes. And I know a good amount of it is my fault, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

You try to speak, but nothing comes out as her thumbs rub back and forth on the back of your hands just like Jungkook was doing last night. 

“What if I temporarily move out instead? You stay here. I’ll stay with Jungkook and stay in Kai’s room. You can stay here and try to heal on your own terms. It’ll be less stressful for you. You don’t always have to be the one making changes to your life for others, y/n. Let us make changes instead.”

You finally look up at her. Both of you have tear-stained faces, but she’s holding a smile that breaks your heart. 

“Ry…” 

“I’m doing it. I’ve decided.”

You smile back at her briefly. 

“Are you sure you’re even ready to go in his room? I went to his studio last night and couldn’t breathe.” 

She pauses momentarily, eyes on the ceiling as she thinks. 

“I think…I think I’m ready. I mean… No one will ever be with something like this, right? It’s always going to be scary. It’s always going to hurt. Even the smallest task will sometimes feel like a punch in the gut, right?” She takes a deep breath, seeing you smile again. 

“I miss him. I think being around his stuff can help me.” she quietly speaks.

“Yeah?” 

She smiles, nodding. There’s something in her expression that is still broken. Something you must not know about. But you don’t question it. Everyone has their secrets. You tell yourself that she’ll talk about it when she’s ready.. 

She doesn’t let you try to dissuade her, instead getting off your bed and dragging you to the kitchen where Jungkook has put together a full breakfast. 

He turns to you both, eyes widening at your hand in hers before looking at you. 

“Everything good?” He asks slowly. You nod silently, letting go of her hand to grab a plate and scoot past him to pile some pancakes on with some eggs. 

“Hopefully soon, yes,” Ryujin answers for you, looking nervously at her brother. “But I’m moving in with you for a bit. Until we figure out how to be, I guess…” she copies your moves, grabbing a plate and scooting past her befuddled brother. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She wanted to move out to put some space between us. I offered instead. I’m going to stay in Kai’s room…” 

“But…” he starts, but you interrupt. 

“But we haven’t gone in there yet. We’re gonna do that tomorrow morning. If you want to join, we can do it together. Maybe it’ll help you, too.”

“Yeah, JK. Y/n said you’ve been having nightmares again. And I know you’ve been sleeping on our couch more than your bed. Maybe having someone else there can help you?”

Jungkook stares at you both, sitting on opposite sides of the table with the same amount of food on your plates. Neither looking at him. Both making decisions without him. He grips the counter with both hands, pushing down every emotion. You almost miss it when you look up. 

“Jungkook? Are you okay?” You move to get up, but you hesitate, again, when he closes his eyes and nods. 

“I’m fine.”

Liar.

“Don’t you have group therapy tomorrow morning?” He changes the subject back to you, an easy task for him. It’s easier to focus on you, Ryujin, school, work, anything and everything but himself. 

Your eyes drop back down to your food, pushing it around.

“I’m not going.” You state, hoping he doesn’t question it further. 

But of course, it’s Jungkook. 

“Why not?” 

Your chest tightens, your throat closing in on itself. When did it get so hot? Are you sweating? Is that your heart or your brain pounding? 

“I don’t feel like going.” You try sounding confident, but your voice shakes, betraying you. 

“Y/n.” Your eyes meet his, begging him to drop it. 

“Jungkook, if she doesn’t want to go, she’s not going. Let her make decisions for herself.” 

“I’m not telling her what to do, Ry. I’m trying to help her.”

“Sounds like the same thing.”

Both of you, stop. Please. 

“It’s not, though. If she wants to learn to grieve and move on in her own way, that’s what she’ll do. You can’t control her.”

“Well, obviously, but—”

Snap.

Your fist slams down on the table, dishes rattling and silencing the room. 

“Please stop! Both of you. Stop talking about me like I’m not here. I’m right fucking here. Right here.”

You’re so tired of crying, of feeling. It’s exhausting. Every single little thing makes you want to cry. It’s ridiculous.

“Jungkook, I’m not going. I’ll go to the next one, and I still have my regular appointment with Dr. Adams on Monday. But I’d rather help Ry, okay?” You wait for him to nod in understanding before turning to his sister. 

“And Ry. He is trying to help. He’s been pushing me to do what I want to avoid, and I appreciate it. I’d still be curled up in my room if it wasn’t for him. So if he has to be pushy, it’s for a reason. Leave it.” 

She nods, and everything goes silent. 

This is why you need space. 

This is suffocating. 

“I have to get ready for class. I have to head back to the studio and pick up my canvas, so I need to leave in twenty minutes…” you get up from the table, rinsing the plate before placing it in the dishwasher.

“Thank you for breakfast, Koo. It was delicious.” You try walking past him, but a hand lands on your stomach, preventing you from leaving. 

“Do you want a ride? You seemed more or less okay with it last night.” 

You should say no. You want to distance yourself from everyone right now. You need to distance yourself. Everything is happening all at once, and you should say no, walk to the studio, and walk to campus.

But it was easier being in a car with him. 

 But you should say no anyway. 

“Okay…I’ll get ready quickly.” You whisper, walking past him when his hand moves. 

You hear the two of them whisper as you climb the stairs, but you’re too tired to care, so you slink back to your room. You grab your phone to charge it while you get ready, ignoring the notifications glaring at you as you plug it in and walk away. 

When it’s time to leave, Ryujin is already back in her room, making a list of things to bring to Jungkook’s while he’s sitting on the couch, keys in hand. 

The walk to his car is quiet. Getting in is just as silent, but he repeats the night before, grabbing your hand in his and holding it close to his chest through every intersection it takes to get to the studio. When he parks in his usual spot, his squeeze tightens on you, head lolling back against the headrest. 

He looks nervous. He feels nervous. His hand is getting sweaty while his grip switches between a death grip and shaking, barely holding on. 

“Jungkook?” You inquire softly, waiting for him to give some sign that he's okay. “Do you wanna come in?”

He exhales a small breath, shaking his head. 

“I don’t think I can.”

You shift in your seat, removing your seatbelt and grabbing the hand wrapped around yours. His eyes find yours, and you’re right. He’s scared. 

Is this how you looked last night?

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Koo. It sucks. The second you step into the studio, you’re back at the moments before finals. You go into his studio, and you fully expect him to be in there working his ass off on whatever assignment he has. But he’s not. And it’s like having to relive that night all over again. And it fucking sucks.” You sniffle, playing with his tattooed hand. 

“And I know the last thing you want me to do right now is mention Yoongi,” he groans out a small laugh, and the corner of your lips twitch into a smirk, “but he made a good point, Koo. The longer you hold off on doing this, on going into the rooms, reliving the memories with him, talking about him, the more it’s going to hurt you.” 

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I’m going to pretend he didn’t say that and that it’s just you being all wise.” 

“Well, I am all wise. We’ve established this many times.” You both grin, enjoying the brief moment of normalcy before he agrees to go in with you. His hand never leaves yours, but this time you’re the one rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand. 

When you both reach the the front door, you unlock it, letting go of his hand. You give him a second before he opens the door fully, letting him step inside first.

You watch him from the front door as he stands in the middle of the living area, eyes scanning every inch of the room. When he turns back around, facing you, his eyes cast to his studio room. 

You can’t decipher the look on his face. 

He’s so good at pretending to be okay that it makes it impossible to read him sometimes. He looks as if he’s dazed; his mind is far away from the studio to somewhere you don’t know. 

“You good?” You hesitantly ask, taking two steps closer to him. 

He blinks a few times, eyes finding your worried expression before offering a small smile. 

“I’m okay. I need to get something from my room. A lens I need for class.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nod, expecting him to move, but he’s standing perfectly still. “Well, I’m going to get my canvas and clean up really quickly since I left abruptly last night…” you quietly walk to your room, turning to see him finally at his door, fingers hesitating over the pin pad before finally putting in the number and walking in. 

You enter your room, your canvas still leaning against your old ones. Black and white still. Paints dried up on the palette, and brushes stiff as a result. You dump the brushes into a jar of water and the palette onto the desk, making a mental note to return later tonight to clean up correctly. You swear you see a hint of purple as you put the canvas in a tote after ensuring  it was dry. 

You turn and are greeted by the cat painting Yoongi was obsessed with. Should you still give it to him? Even if you plan on ending things? You don’t want it, and it would look good in a cat cafe. If anything, you could give it to the cafe directly. 

God, you don’t want to talk to Yoongi. But you don’t want to ghost him completely. And before the sex, he was actually starting to be a good friend and an excellent partner in helping each other through your traumas. 

You look at the couch, resisting the urge to deep clean every inch of it. Maybe a new couch. One that won’t make you feel dirty and wrong every time you look at it. 

You have to apologize. And you have to cut ties with him.

You have to. 

You’re just going to hurt him in the end. 

You’re so good at hurting people. 

You hear the beeping of a keypad, turning your head to the doorway before grabbing your tote, setting the cat painting aside, and leaving your room. 

Kai’s door is open. 

“Jungkook?” You softly call out, leaving the tote on the couch in the living area. You call out his name again, slowly approaching your brother’s room. Your heart breaks at the sight. 

Jungkook’s sitting on the small couch with his knees pressed to his chest and his arms around his shins. His head is buried in between his knees, but he’s silent. 

“Koo?” You try again, slowly approaching, moving some of Kai’s scattered papers out of the way, and sitting next to him. 

When he still doesn’t respond, you stop trying. You’ll sit and wait by his side, ready to be there for whatever he needs. 

The most important rule in helping someone grieve: never push them to grieve how you think they should. Just be there when they’re ready. 

A mantra of sorts drilled into your brain in group therapy.

His body finally moves, his back rising suddenly as he takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out and raising his head. He doesn’t look at you, instead looking at the room he’s in. The same way you did the night before. 

His face is flush, like he was forcing himself to hold his breath. His eyes are dry, and he looks exhausted. 

“How did it go last night, coming in here?” He finally asks, head leaning back to rest on the couch. 

You flatten your hands on the couch, sliding them back and forth to feel the texture. It’s a nice distraction to keep your hands apart and not claw at your skin. 

“I had a full blown panic attack. Felt like I was dying. Like my brain was on the verge of exploding, and I kept hearing voices screaming, and I couldn’t see.” You let out a nervous laugh, keeping your eyes on the couch. 

“Voices?”

“Uh…yeah. Like, like my own thoughts, but amplified. I don’t know how to explain it…I’d rather not try, honestly.”

“You don’t have to.” He whispers, a hand stopping one of yours and softly holding onto it. 

“How’d you get through it?” 

“Jungkook…”

“What?”

“Stop…doing that.”

“Stop doing what?”

“Diverting. You already know the answer. When I say Yoongi got me through it, you’re going to say something about how I feel about him, and then we’ll fight. You know it’s always going to be you in the end. I don’t understand why you keep saying it’s so one-sided when it’s clearly not. It’s just messy and complicated right now, okay? I don’t want to have that scene play out again. Specifically not here.”

He doesn’t respond, instead, staring at your hand in his, his thumb running over your ring finger. Your eyes flick up to his face, jaw clenched tight and eyes sad. There’s no sparkle in them like there usually is, and you’re not sure how long they’ve been so dull. 

How have you not noticed that?

“Have you allowed yourself to cry yet?” You hesitate to ask, but you have to. It’s been months since Kai passed, and you haven’t seen him cry since the crash or last night in his sleep. You want to be wrong. Please let him tell you you’re wrong. 

“No.” His voice cracks as he shakes your head, and you can feel your heart drop with it. 

“Koo. You have to let it out at some point. Or else you’ll be stuck and have those nightmares forever.” 

You turn your body to face him better, bringing your entwined hands to your lap. 

“I’m scared.” He shuts his eyes tight. 

“Scared of what?”

“If I cry, I’m scared I’ll never stop.”

“Koo…”

And that’s all it takes for the dam to break, tears streaming down his face as he begins to sob. He buries his head back into his knees and lets the floodgates open. You do nothing. You don’t want to. You want him to finally let it out and focus on himself and his own grief. 

So you sit. 

And you wait. His hand stays in yours as he finally lets go of months of emotional trauma, stress, and fears.  

You’ve only seen Jungkook cry like this once. It was after his parents divorced just before he graduated high school. He had so much going on, from finishing up high school to getting accepted to the same school as you and Ryujin. He had finals, projects, an internship, a part-time job, and a social life. 

All at the same time as he watched his parents argue, his mother packing up her stuff and moving out the day after his graduation. It became too overwhelming for him. He pushed everything down as far as he could and pretended he was fine. 

But you could see it in his eyes. Just like now, that sparkle was gone. He barely spoke, and if he did, it was about anyone else. He just focused on finishing the day and praying no one talked to him the entire time. 

Until one day, you both went to a street fair to celebrate high school being over. There were a few booths with carnival games and one that let you break plates. You dragged him over, encouraging him to destroy some ceramic dinnerware and let it all out. He did, but after breaking a good handful of plates, it was as if something in him snapped. 

You rushed him out of the booth, taking him to a darkened alley to fully cry in peace. He hated crying in front of others. He hated the idea of people perceiving him as weak. You’ve told him many times it doesn’t, but you still take him somewhere quiet and safe when you know he’s upset. 

He cried in your arms in that alley for thirty minutes, finally letting you take him home and having him fall asleep in your arms. 

You’re pulled from the memory when Jungkook’s hand pulls yours closer. You shift on the couch, wrapping your arms around him as he curls into your side. His tear stained face finds its home in the space between your neck and shoulder, his hands tightly grabbing at any part of you he can like you’re his lifeline. 

In a way, you are, to him at least. 

Just like he’s yours. 

He cries in your arms for what feels like fifteen minutes, random words stumbling out of his sobs, followed by questions that will never get answered and wishes that will never be granted. You continue to stay silent, only ever whispering that he’s okay, he’s safe, and to let it out. Every now and again kissing the top of his head when he grew silent, clutching him harder when the sobs returned stronger. 

Somewhere in the living room, your phone rings. You ignore it. 

Not right now. 

It rings again. You bury your face in Jungkook’s messy curls, focusing on the smell of his conditioner instead. 

Please stop. 

On the third call, Jungkook lifts his face from your neck just enough to look at you. 

“You should get that.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. Your hand softly cradles his cheek as you shake your head. 

“Nah. My top priority right now is making sure you’re okay.” 

He smiles. It’s broken and weak, but it’s there as he pulls away from you, sitting up straight and rubbing his hands across his puffy face. 

“I’m okay.” He mumbles behind his hands, “I’m puffy and probably need to rehydrate. But I’m okay.” 

“We can wrap an ice pack in a towel to reduce the puffiness. And there’s water in the fridge, I’m sure.” You mimic how he sits, brushing some of his hair out of his face. 

“Mmm. We should do a spa day. Once you and Ry are a little better, that is.” 

“I look forward to it. Full on facemasks and mani/pedis.” It's a soft whisper. You do genuinely hope there will be a time when you three can go back to normal. Or as normal as you can without your brother.  

“You sure you’re okay, Koo?” He nods, but you shake your head. “I need you to promise me you’ll stop blocking everything out. We’re all hurting. We’re all scared of a future without him. We’re all going through this together. You don’t have to always try to be the big brave hero.”

“But then what am I? I feel like I need to be something or do something so I’m not…so I don’t—”

“Remember that he’s gone?”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes dancing around his best friend’s studio where he’s spent countless hours pacing the floor while Kai was at his desk or on the couch talking about complete nonsense, complaining about Ryujin or ranting about your latest relationship failures. 

“Yeah…” his head drops, eyes falling to the floor in defeat. “I just want to forget. Focusing on anything else helps with that.” You stop yourself from reaching out to touch him again, instead placing both your hands on your lap, twiddling your fingers in place. 

“Jungkook?” You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows knit together as you focus on your hands, carefully forming the words in your brain before speaking again. 

“Kai’s gone. He died. I was there. I held his hand as he died. So, I understand wanting to forget that he’s gone and distracting yourself from remembering. But I relive that moment every day. I don’t have that same luxury you do of being able to forget. I wake up every morning thinking this is a sick nightmare and that he’ll be on the couch or in the kitchen stealing our food. But then he’s not. And I have to remember what it felt like to hold his hand for the last time. I have to remember watching them take his body away.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until the feeling of Jungkook’s hands holding yours makes you flinch, causing the tears to fall on them. 

“So please, please, understand what I’m saying when I say how lucky you are that you have that option to forget, but also how ridiculous and rude it is to Kai to want to forget that he’s gone.”

“Y/n…that’s…I would nev—”

“He was your best friend, Jungkook. He always will be in a way. He would've been your brother-in-law once he and Ry got married. Don’t do that disservice to your best friend by trying to forget that he died. Forget the fights, forget the disagreements and all the bad moments you had with him. That’s fine. But don’t forget Kai, okay?”

He remains silent, lips shut tight, and eyes watering again. But he nods, squeezing your hands with his as a quiet okay escapes his lips. 

Your phone rings a fourth time, and you groan, letting go of Jungkook’s hands and getting up. You stomp over to your phone and glare at the screen. 

Mother (7) Missed Call

Mother (12) Text Message

Father (1) Text Message

Yoongi (3) Text Message

You put your phone on silent, slipping it into your backpack all the way at the bottom. 

The door to Kai’s room closes, and Jungkook appears behind you. 

“Was that Yoongi?” His voice carries no negative tone for once, no malice or anger. You shake your head, picking up the canvas tote that’s quickly taken away from you by Jungkook. 

“My mother…” your voice trails as you watch him walk towards the front door. He grimaces in your direction when your feet finally catch up to him. 

“Gross.” He steps out of the studio, letting you lock the door. You both silently head down the elevator and back to his car, where he waits until you both have your seatbelts on and your hand is back in his when he pulls out of the parking space. 

“What does she want now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Probably asking when I’m gonna come back home and get a real job now that they’re left with the lesser child.” You scoff, eyes on the road. 

“That or she already wants me to make plans for Christmas. Which I don’t want to think about at all.” 

Jungkook smirks, bringing your hand to his chest at a stop light. It takes you a second until you realize you’ve made it several blocks without your heart rate skyrocketing. Your eyes have been watching every car just like last night, but it feels less stressful. 

Because it’s him. It’s always him. 

“Why is it always you?” 

“Hmm?” The light turns green, and he steps on the gas. The feeling of panic is still there. But you’re able to push it back down. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t question you further as he pulls into the school’s parking lot. 

He exits the car first, helping you out next and putting your canvas tote on his shoulder. His hand finds yours again as you both walk to the art building in silence. 

“So when do I get to see the painting?” He questions, handing you the tote. 

“At the showcase.” You smile at his pout. 

“But that's months away.”

“Exactly. I don’t think I want anyone important to see any of it until then. It’s hard enough that I can’t see the colors right now. I don’t need other people seeing whatever mess I’ve made.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful. Just like everything you create.” His hand squeezes yours, and you smile at the feel of his hand wrapped around yours. Your safety blanket. 

“I can’t wait to see your showcase next year. It’s gonna be great. You should use that one photo you took when we all went on that hike and saw all those stars.” You grin, the memory is still so bright and real in your mind. The meteor shower you wanted to see so badly that you convinced the three of them to hike up a mountain with you just to see it. 

“You and that damn mountain. You bamboozled us.” Jungkook groans. 

“Excuse me. You said you had fun and would do it again!”

“Only if you wanted to. And had a better reason. And without Ryujin. She complained the entire time. Even Kai was getting annoyed.”

“Okay. We’ll go back, just the two of us, the next time there’s a good meteor shower.”

“It’s a date.” 

You nod, but don’t respond. That phrase suddenly has such a bigger meaning than it did before. Instead, you focus on climbing the stairs to the third floor and approaching your classroom. His voice eventually breaks you out of your racing thoughts. 

“Do you want a ride home tonight?”

“I need to actually clean my brushes from last night. So I’ll be at the studio. Besides, isn’t your last class later than mine?”

“Fair. I can come get you after? Or bring food?” Your silence makes him panic, “or not. I just hate the idea of you out on your own so late…that’s all. I’m not trying to control you or anything.”

“No, no. I get it. Yeah. Come by after class. That’s fine. I just. I don’t know. Sorry.” You shake your head, gripping the straps to the tote. Confused, Jungkook opens his mouth to ask you to clarify what you’re saying, but the sound of his and your name from down the hall stops him. 

Your eyes find the source of the shout and land on Joshua and Jimin. Joshua glances down to your hand in Jungkook’s before shooting you a smirk. You let go out of instinct and readjust your grasp on your tote with both hands and avoid how Jungkook looks at you. 

“Hey, Jimin. How’s your second to last year so far?” You smile at him. His face flashes from confusion towards Jungkook to the same friendly smile you have towards him. 

“It’s great! Frustrating moments when my equipment decides not to function, but that’s expected. How—, uh, how’s your painting?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding hesitant. You haven’t seen Jimin since the funeral, and with the way everything that happened that day, you’d be treading lightly too. 

“It’s…going. I’m trying to change the way I paint. I’m not excited about the showcase, though.” 

“Oh, yeah. Taehyung’s been going on about it. You two have a lot to do, huh?” You smile at the mention of his boyfriend, missing the nights you’d invite them out to drink with the rest of the sQuad. 

“Yeah. I’m not sure how to get it all done in time. But I can’t wait to see what Taehyung does.” 

He smiles in return, and it’s suddenly awkward. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say next. Jimin looks just as lost, and Joshua is on his phone. Jungkook sniffs for the sake of making a noise. 

“We should go out to that karaoke bar again soon.” His voice breaks the silence, the three of you looking up at him. 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Joshua chimes in, “but first, we have a class that starts in forty-five seconds. See ya, friends.” He grabs your wrist, spinning you around in the direction of the classroom, dragging you with him. 

“Shua, class starts in ten minutes. Not forty-five seconds.” You whine as he sits you down in your seat, sitting next to you after going across the room and coming back with two blank canvases, setting one on his easel and the other on yours. 

“I know. But I needed to get you away from Jungkook so you could tell me why y’all were holding hands.” He grins, turning to face you once his stuff is set up. 

“This isn’t elementary school, Joshua. We can hold hands without it being anything.” You glare at him, slowly pulling your tools out of your bag, and placing them neatly on the table next to your easel. You grab a second easel, a much smaller one, and place it next to the big window. 

“While that is true, y/n, it’s you and Jungkook. Everything either of you do with one another means something. Always has been, always will.”

You look down at your canvas tote with a frown. He’s not wrong. That’s how you two are. Every action, every sentence, every thought. It all means something. Even if that something is meaningless to others, it’s the world to you both. 

“I guess…” you sigh, opening the tote and pulling out your canvas. Suddenly very hyper aware  others can see it as you set it down on the easel by the window. 

“Oh, holy shit, that’s beautiful, y/n.” Joshua says, standing up to look closer, “the colors are stunning.”

“Are they…?” You squint at the painting. Some colors are just barely visible. You see the purple a little stronger, and a bit of what you think is yellow? You’re still not sure. 

“Yeah, the way you blended the green with the—”

“No! Don’t tell me. I wanna wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For when I can see the colors again.” You grin, actually feeling hopeful for once. Joshua smiles back, patting your shoulder and sitting back down. Before Joshua can question further, Professor Varon walks in exactly as class is set to begin. 

“Okay, everyone! Let’s get to it! The first week is done, and now down to serious business!”

The class goes by so fast you’re not even sure you registered any information in your brain. You spent too much time glancing between the professor and your finished painting. At one point, while walking the room, he stopped by you, eyes on the finished piece as he asked you to stay after class. 

Joshua packs up his stuff, saying goodbye to you with the promise of getting together for clothes shopping in a week or two. Professor Varon makes his way to your seat next to the big window once everyone is out. 

“So, how was the process?”

“The what?” You look up at him, his eyes still on the painting. ��Oh. Uh, shit? Yesterday after I left I went to our shared studio for the first time…” 

How was that only yesterday?

“And how’d that go? Being in a place you used to spend a lot of time with him in?”

“Horribly?” You let out an exasperated laugh, “I went in his room, had a panic attack, made a horrible decision, woke up, sat in his room talking to nothing, and then finished the painting.” He gives it a beat of silence before he smiles. 

“So it sounds like it went pretty well.” You both laugh as you slowly put your stuff away.

“I guess so. It felt good painting…I just kinda zoned out for a few hours, and when I came back, it was done more or less.” 

“And what about the colors?”

“Joshua said there was green in it. I can kind of see purple, and I think there’s yellow. But I’ve decided to stop straining to see it.” 

“That’s a good idea,” he smiles at you, “just keep painting, y/n. You’ll see it again.”

“Thank you…I’m trying.” 

“That’s all you can do sometimes.” He shrugs, walking back to his desk as you put the canvases back in your tote. “And put that one in your showcase. Everyone should see it.”

Hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think, any ideas on where it’s going or any questions. The next chapter is Ryujin’s POV and oh boy is that not gonna be fun to write. 😖

[vbsvartalf]

Audio Drama Sunday, 12/4/22

Yesterday was a long, big, busy Sunday, filled with some amazing audio dramas that I must share with all of you.

Dead Air, by Realm Media (created by Gwenda Bond) - If you like the true crime genre of podcasts, then a fictional version might just be up your alley. It's suspenseful, emotional, and filled with dark, dry humor. I've been devouring it recently, stopping just short of binging the entire thing in a single setting. I'm not a true crime fan, but I'm still hooked. If you liked Arden, I think you'll like this show.

Greater Boston, by Alexander Danner and Jeff Van Dreason - Humor, surrealism, quiet drama are all at the heart of Greater Boston. I know it's been around for a while and has a huge fandom but I'm excited that I get to experience this show for the first time six years after it started. Once I finish, I have a feeling I'll start the series over again without missing a beat.

A Ninth World Journal, by David S. Dear - The ultimate actual play turned audio drama, A Ninth World Journal episodes might be short but they are packed to the gills with content and keep you guessing as to what is going to happen next. David S. Dear is a fantastic narrator I've heard on several other shows at this point and it's wonderful to see him shine as the star.

Exoplanetary, by C. Christopher Heart - Managing to weave half a dozen sci-fi stories together in a nonlinear fashion without getting things too confusing is no easy task, but Exoplanetary as not only done just that, but thrived at it and keeps me coming back for new stories and new angles. It's filled with heart and emotion that stay with you long after the episodes is finished. From robotic love to colonialism to time travel, this show has it all.

Among the Stars and Bones, by Ungodly Hour Productions - Technically this will be my third listen but each time I get something more out of it, I feel more for the characters and understand their motivations. Telling a story from 8 or 9 limited viewpoints is a great way to employ the unreliable narrator, or as it happens, 8 or 9 unreliable narrators. I've seen recently that they are casting for season 2 and I cannot contain my excitement!

Old Gods of Appalachia, by DeepNerd Media - Folk horror, when done right, is better than any subgenre of any genre of literature, bar none. I will live and die on this hill. Old Gods does folk horror the right way. There's mood and atmosphere, a sense of place and a sense of dread. The show will have you jumping at shadows and creepy noises down by the creek at the witching hour.

The Town Whispers, by Cole Weavers - While similar to Old Gods of Appalachia, The Town Whispers takes cosmic horror and turns it up to 11 alongside all the folk horror that creeps around the edges of the Fort. The story telling is sharp and a sense of doom and dread purvey every word Mr. Weavers speaks. It's beautiful and chilling and leaves me needing more.

Malevolent, by Harlan Guthrie - It's a simple premise, guy wakes up unable to see with a creepy voice in his head that is not his own. Oh also there's a dead body, also there are monsters running around, oh also lots of creepy books, oh also it's set in the heart of Lovecraft Country. What could go wrong? I'm late to the party on the fandom for this show but as I work through the episodes I see why the fandom has exploded Hannibal style all over Tumblr.

Hi Nay, by Motzi Dapul - What if the Magnus Archives were less focused on Eurocentric monsters and fears and entities? What if there was a less organized group of people going after them? What if all of it was recorded lo-fi and given a health dose of Filipino folklore? Well, you'd have Hi Nay and you'd sweep the internets with a new, obsession worthy podcast that teaches as much as it entertains. Also they are working on getting 1000 subs on Youtube so get on that people!

The Kingmaker Histories, by Meg Molloy Tuten - Made by the same geniuses that brought us Less is Morgue, this audio drama gives us a glimpse at a steampunk world filled with magic. I enjoyed the first episode immensely. The acting, the script, the sound design are all top notch. Have to say I love this Ariadne character, she seems nice.

Moonbase Theta, Out, by D.J. Sylvis - Dystopian futures, corrupt governments, sinister warnings about the moon. Sounds like a typical day in 2022, right? Moonbase Theta, Out was and is ahead of its time in terms of storytelling, narratives, and characters. It's really a who's who in the world of audio drama with "famous" voices popping in and out to voice characters that will make you do the Leo pointing meme at least twice and episode.

WOE.BEGONE, by Dylan Griggs - Part surrealist sci-fi, part existential horror, WOE.BEGONE is a show that makes me want to run away screaming whilst at the same time binging more and more episodes. How deep does this creepy, deadly game go? What is the point of it all? Will Mike just be able to relax and have a nice time? I need to know!!!

And 195, by Guendalina Cilli - I just found out about this audio drama yesterday and I'm already a fan. I'm a runner with a bad sense of direction myself so the basis of the show is very, very familiar to me (aside from getting lost in other dimensions, that's not familiar but you never know in these days).

We Fix Space Junk, by Battle Bird Productions - Dystopian space dramas are a trope for a reason, but We Fix Space Junk manages to avoid the pitfalls and enjoy all the benefits of said trope. It's fresh, fun, and exciting. I've decided it was time for a re-listen to see what things I missed out on in the beginning that are integral parts of the show by the end. I'm already having a blast!

Care & Feeding of Werewolves, by Brenna Anderson-Dowd - What if True Blood were a sitcom, but far better than the sum of those two parts? What if it were funny and informative, silly and meaningful? You'd have Care & Feeding of Werewolves and you'd enjoy every single episode of this weird little show, and I do mean that endearingly. If it weren't weird, it wouldn't be nearly as fun.

[racefortheironthrone]

So one question about the writer strike. Wont the streaming companies simply begin focusing more on just importing more foreign series(South korean and japanese are becoming more and more popular globally), since they will have the streaming right, and wont have to to deal with actors and writers by doing so(Effectively outsourcing it overseas). It's much cheaper and is following current popular trends, and by doing so they can bypass the writers demands for higher pay very, very easily while still making moneh. I dont know, it seems to me this is a terrible time to be doing a writers strike. Am i missing something here?

So the pivot by Netflix and other streaming services to K-dramas and C-dramas and other foreign imports is a real phenomena, but here's the thing: none of these companies are waiting for a strike to get into this market. It's happening now, it's been happening for a while, it will keep happening no matter how the strike ends, because what we're talking about is a long-term trend in the industry that has its roots in the decline of the "golden age of streaming," increased willingness of Western audiences to watch subtitled content, changing demographics, and many many other factors.

Here's the other thing, though: it is always, always a losing strategy for a union to avoid striking or make pre-emptive concessions to ward off some future tactic of management. As a labor historian, I can point to a lot of examples, whether that's ILGWU cutting their own union pay rates to try to prevent garment factories leaving for the South in the 50s and 60s, or metalworkers and steelworkers in the Midwest trying to avoid outsourcing in the 80s, or the UAW allowing two-tier contracts in the wake of the Great Recession, and it never works. Management will sense weakness, take the concession, and then move the goalpost, and you're back where you started.

So is it the best time for WGA to go on strike? Truth is, there never is a best time; it's always a gamble and a risk. But in this case, pressure has been building on the streaming side of the industry for years and it's got to be resolved before people's living standards collapse completely.

[animelga]

I saw a post on the Bleach subreddit which asked about which parts of the series people found most disappointing. And a lot of people there obviously said Chad, and I agree - But I want to be more specific. Chad in the Lost Agent arc is some of the most blatant missed potential I've ever seen.

I think its pretty easy to infer that each of Bleach's five arcs focuses on one of its five originally-introduced main characters. This is something my librarian-coded brain adores!! Our lineup, as introduced in Substitute Shinigami, is Ichigo, Rukia, Orihime, Chad and Uryu (Renji gets added to that group later, but ignore that for now). The first two are pretty obvious - Substitute Shinigami introduces us to Ichigo's character and his moral code, what he fights for, what potential he has. Rukia, or more specifically the Shinigami as a whole, are of course the focus of the Soul Society arc - even though she's trapped in a cell for lots of it, characters like Renji, Ganju and Byakuya specifically serve to explore the different sides of her character. Both her and Ichigo are of course important throughout Bleach in its entirety, but these two first arcs put them and their relationships with those close to them in the focus far more than atany point later in the series.

Arrancar arc and TYBW are pretty self-explanatorily Orihime and Uryu-focused, if arguably a bit misguided with TYBW in particular. Even though, again, Orihime spends most of Arrancar stuck in a cell, she shows tremendous growth and maturity, and the entire arc's theming of what it means to have a heart is centered entirely on her. And Uyru...well, Uryu is the center of the conflict in TYBW, despite it definitely feeling underwritten in the Manga. I think thats mainly a result of its rushed pacing by the back half though, and it seems to be getting resolved with the adaptation now. So I'll hold off on Uryu for now - his treatment is salvageable and if nothing else he's always gotten at least one golden moment to shine in all other arcs.

That only leaves Chad and Lost Agent - a perfect fit for one another, and something Kubo himself was pretty clearly going for at the start. Its Chad's disappearance that instigates the drama, he's there with Xcution to help Ichigo regain his powers, and the existence of Fullbring in general elegantly explains where Chad's powers came from in a way that's true to his character (the "pride in the color of my skin" line is still one of his best character moments imo). It is, effectively, an arc built entirely around answering the questions Chad himself asked about his powers back in the Arrancar arc.

And then...nothing. He explains his powers, helps Ichigo, he trains to get stronger in a video game, and...then falls under Tsukishima's mind powers and gets knocked unconscious. Only for the Soul Reapers to show up and do all the fighting again - even characters like Byakuya and Kenpachi, who clearly don't have any material for growth when pit against the Fullbringers, show up just to clean house. To me it reeks of Kubo deciding to include fan-favorite characters toward the end of the arc just to make people happier with it, since Lost Agent in general was so divisive. Though it was obviously earned for Rukia to return in order to give Ichigo his powers back, having everyone else also show up to do the work of other characters for them felt kind of like a slap in the face.

It feels so obvious in hindsight, but Chad and Tsukishima would have been a borderline perfect matchup for a fight to move the arc to a satisfying conclusion. Out of the entire core cast, Chad is the one who feels most motivated by his past to act - he remembers his Abuelo's words, he remembers his times in turmoil with Ichigo, he remembers just how hard he's had it in life and fights to make sure nobody else has to suffer like him. Pitting him against the character able to alter memories would've been a genuinely fantastic challenge of character, and would've made for the most satisfying Chad victory the series could've pulled. Even though Tsukishima isn't Bleach's strongest villain, he's certainly one of its scariest and most potentially dangerous, and Chad's entire personality and design is built around protecting others from such harm.

Instead, Kubo just kind of... procrastinated with Chad, always hinting at more to come, hoping maybe anotber matchup as good as Tsukishima would roll around eventually. Only for him to still gst nothing to do for all of TYBW, and his send-off being to fight some stone statues off-screen.

It's such a shame, imagining what could've been, and remembering just how damn cool Chad is when he actually gets to play with the cool kids.

[mdhwrites]

Boscha Ask: If people like seeing bullies slowly not be jerks, why not allow Boscha to have an arc? It could have been really compelling.

(I accidentally posted this ask when I meant to queue it. Wanted to post it later so sorry the full ask isn't here. I've included the main thrust and relevant parts of the ask for my response.) You're absolutely right that it can be extremely satisfying and worthwhile to watch a bully become a better person. To see them let their guard down and see the worth in others. For them to go from defensive and worried about any weakness to being able to open up.

TOH had one of those already and her name was Amity and we all saw how that worked out right? And she was a genuine, primary member of the cast. THAT'S why I argue that the show in S2 actually used Boscha well. She appeared for a couple gags when it was the right time to do so and otherwise vanished. Her role was after all as a small time antagonist and a marker for Amity's progression. She is not Sasha who has a deep, personal tie to both Anne and who Anne was before Amphibia and that is the point of her existence. That's why I say that after Winging it Like Witches, she has no reason to be here anymore because Amity is past Boscha, past most of Hexide, and this ISN'T Amity's story.

Or hell, how about a different character who after their main narrative use was up decided to stick around, albeit briefly: Lilith. She got mistreated AWFULLY by the show because she got in the way of Hunter's narrative purpose. She couldn't continue to be a character for the sake of the new villain. She could only be a joke. And while Boscha is just the romantic interest's old bestie, this is arguably the second main character of the show's SISTER and the PRIMARY ANTAGONIST of the first season.

Just covering a proper redemption for Amity and letting the fallout of S1 actually have an effect on the show, including what should have been Lilith's rage at Belos, could have easily taken up the main plot of at least half a season. Hell, in the show we got, Lumity IS the focus effectively for S2A plotwise with how little movement is in that half season. S1 sets up threads with just those two, ignoring Eda, Luz and Hunter, that are connected to the world building and drama of the world and plot itself that evaluating it... Making someone who is almost a one off in S1 and a supporting member of a supporting cast member seemed like the wrong move to me even when I was writing her before S2 came out.

And here's the ultimate rub: I AGREE. There IS a story there. I wrote a fuck ton of it with The Power of Love. Little Miss Rich Witch flips main character's perspective over to Amity, not Luz, and makes it her story in an original context. And do you know the part of TOH's identity that story focuses primarily on? The school drama, where a school bully can be a primary, ongoing member of the cast. TOH wants instead to have a plot that's grand fantasy and that's NOT where Boscha lies, even if she would have made sense as a member of the EC eventually.

Which, tangent, for as much fun as Sport in a Storm's scene is with her, I did one off for it at one point, it also creates the problem that Boscha didn't see Hunter and try to sign up for the EC despite having no reason to not want the power that would give her.

The problem with your position is a problem with a part of modern ship culture. You love a character so OF COURSE including them as a main character would have been great for the story overall because you'd get more of them. But... Is that actually true? I love Boscha. I think she had a lot of narrative potential that was never tapped into but that was for the best because this isn't a romantic school drama.

It's an adventure, fantasy comedy and the fact that we got Boscha at all out of that is almost condemnatory of the series as much as it is praising it. Sorry.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[valleyfthdolls]

My Sonic fandub theory is that Shadow and Tails are related.

See, Eggman is Shadow’s dad according to the 06 dub, which as they say “makes the last dub horrifying.” However, it’s never explicitly specified whether the wife Shadow- and everyone- takes from Eggman is his mother. First of all this is some Oedipus shit. Second of all that lack of a distinction I believe is important because the timeline of these dubs appears to be in chronological order. The stories happen in order of release. We know this because of things like the 1907 references, Shadow calling out the previous dub, etc.

However, before his divorce to his Dark Story wife, Martha, Eggman says something interesting, in the Hero Story:

“I miss my wife, Tails, I miss her a lot.”

At this point, Eggman hasn’t had any drama with Martha, and has no reason to “miss” her. However, he discloses to Tails that he misses his wife before leaving.

This along with his preexisting alcoholism before the Dark Story implies he’s experienced a previous divorce or loss of a wife, and we may be able to assume this wife is Shadow’s mother. Shadow clearly didn’t think Martha was his mother, didn’t recognize her, and she didn’t recognize him either. Weird for Eggman to know Shadow is his son, but not Martha, who would have given birth to him- unless the first wife, who Eggman laments about missing long before anything goes down with Martha, was Shadow’s actual mother.

While Shadow was a prank on the devil according to the SHtH dub, Eggman explicitly says he’s Shadow’s father. It’s possible then that Shadow didn’t have a mother, or that he was genetically modified neonatally to fucking prank the devil. I don’t know.

However, if we believe Shadow is Eggman’s son genetically modified neonatally to prank the literal devil from the bible, it would stand to reason his mother is a mobian- thus, Martha’s species is up in the air but ultimately irrelevant, the first wife being Shadow’s mother is a mobian.

But more interestingly, later on in the hero story fandub, Eggman tells Tails “I know who your mother is.” Before Tails him “don’t fucking lie to me.”

One time Tails takes him down, he mentions his wife, and the next time, he mentions Tails’s mother. An odd pattern here, but they’re both attempts to get Tails to sympathize with him in the same way relating to two similar female characters. Eggman’s absent wife and Tails’s absent mother. Furthermore, while the connection in context is notable, it’s also interesting that Eggman seems to know Tails’s mother is gone, and claims to know who she is.

If Eggman’s first wife who is now gone just like Tails’s mother, who Eggman allegedly knows, is a mobian, it would stand to reason then that Eggman’s first wife is both the mother of Shadow and Tails.

Notice how Eggman always singles out Tails. “I miss my wife Tails,” “I know who your mother is,” “I’m tired of being calm all the goddamn time! I wanna live my life! And YOU. YOU. YOU. YOU. IM SO SICK OF YOU.” All directed at Tails. He has a very strange relationship to and fixation on his other son, Shadow, and it seems to be mirroring with Tails. While neither of the boys know Eggman as their father, he knows their families and histories, and he appears heavily focused on them out of everyone, even above Sonic, who clearly stands as his rival in this series. The connection between them isn’t really directly to each other, but in parallels between their relationship to Eggman and their parentage.

[thecoffeelorian]

The Transport On The Left, #4

Title:  The Transport On The Left

Chapter:  Four

Genre:  Drama/Mystery

Word Count:  Under 1k

Characters Included:  Crosshair, Echo, Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker.

Brief Description: "Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes."

Warnings: There will be mentions of torture/waterboarding in this chapter. Please avoid this if you know your health will be affected in any way, and thank you.

AO3: Click Here

No-Pressure Tags: @megmca @ladykagewaki @talesfrommedinastation @carlycrays @melymigo @momojedi @mysticalgalaxysalad @moonstrider9904 @slenderboo @localcryptid3 @spacemagicandlaserswords @littlefeatherr @gun-roswell @alabyte @sw-2020-1 @lukascastelan @omglisalithium @skellymom  @me-thestarwarsfan @donut1642 @thats-cacti @gray-paladin @idkwhatdoyouwannabecalled @im-not-the-me-i-use-to-be @storminormins @wendywilliamsleftlip @danger-noodles22 @ladylienda @marvel-starwarsfangirl @theosb0rnway and...pretty much anyone else who's kinda had enough of certain Troopers looking like they'd un-alive each other if Omega wasn't watching. ^^; I guess I have to do everything around here, so here's the overture to ALL these stubborn Fett boys having to learn to discuss deep topics, and NOT wait for Omega to tell them!

Special Notes: This divider was created by @djarrex , and so I give all credit to her. :)

One // Two // Three // Four // Five//

(Quick Author’s Note: This story is paying NO attention to the people behind the Twitter curtains. So...for what it’s worth, I’ll do my best to keep the explosions to a minimum, if you get my drift. ;)

Four

The next several minutes tick by in a slow crawl, for this decommission site's newest "visitor" sees no real way to respond to this latest cell in a lifelong succession of cells other than with complete silence. It's been like this for him ever since his decanting day, after all, so it's probably not so out of the ordinary to think that this little fact of life could ever change. Not when the original versions of these Hulls already turned their Deeces upon him, and so drove away any lingering dreams of home. Nevertheless, the Hulls themselves decide to play at being happy, and so force a series of half-hearted smiles onto their faces right after they wheel him inside. Crosshair pays them no mind, though, for he slowly becomes far more focused on the room around him.

Standard, Republic-made medbay; medium size; sleeps two to a room with one other patient here residing. Medbay monitor beginning to flicker repeatedly due to end of shelf life; must alert the nearest available staff. Medbay itself appears to have been cleaned and sanitized recently, though a few faint bloodstains remain visible upon the edge of this blanket, origins unknown-- "...drink?" —What...? Focused enough, even, to very nearly miss the question posed to him by the skull-faced Hull. "I, er...wanted to know if you needed something to drink?" Drinks. Sure. THEY had officially stopped giving him drinks, never mind also food and medicine, as soon as he'd woken up on that operating table. In fact, since it was nothing less than kriffing stupid to even ask him such a thing, if only for the idea that nobody else would have bothered to feed him at this point...he had zero second thoughts about ignoring it. "Okay...that's a no. Got it." In response, the ashen Hull walks past the other three Hulls to a small compartment in the wall, inside of which he finds an extra regulation blanket. He easily picks this up with one hand before returning to Crosshair's bedside, the steady whirr-thump of his footsteps sounding upon the oar. "How about this, then?" Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes. Water. Not a slow, steady dripping from a faucet in any corner, but a quick wet plume of it right upon his covered face. Direct. Harsh. Enough to seep through the fabric, into his eyes, down his nose and throat, gagging him-- —Where is the female clone?-- —Making him struggle to breathe, forcing him backwards against the headboard as he gasped for air-- "—All right, all right, I'm sorry! Hell of a time to ask!" "—Corporal, I do not believe that this method is effective--" "—Then fine, let's skip the effectiveness and get that other med droid in here--" "—AW, JUST MOVE IT!" ...And then, the tallest of the Hulls suddenly pushes his way past the others, almost knocking the Skull-face right off his feet as he goes off to grab something upon the floor before anybody else can stop him. "Here, Crossy. Think y' just dropped this." Indeed, before anyone else even has the wherewithal to respond... there's something soft--and yet sturdy--placed behind him in order to keep from banging his own head against the wall. "Wrecker, what are you--" "—HELPING." And out of all these Hulls and their stand-offish approach, it's this one who first reacted to his low state, who actually had the nerve to stop muttering and do something about it--but why...?! "Somethin' you all forgot how to do...but never mind." He doesn't get a lot of time to think this through, because before he knows it, this tallest Hull of the batch is pushing his way through the others, a growing scowl evident upon his face as he goes. " 'M going to go find Fireball. Don't comm me until 'Meg gets back." ... Ooh. Ooh. In spite of the way that neither he nor these others ever saw that one coming, however, Crosshair himself begins to find this experience a bit more interesting than the meaningless chatter of the other three. Within the span of five minutes, this one seemed eager to do more than just stand around, whereas the rest of this group didn't do much else besides ask questions and look terribly lost. In fact... against his usual cold attitude and somewhat better judgment, a faint but curious thought has already crept into his head, if not also come along in search of a true answer. Just who was that mystery Trooper...?!

[sanshofox]

Now after letting it sit for awhile here some thoughts on Wednesday: I do like the Wednesday series, but I only see it as a parallel universe kinda thing.🤔 And I‘ll be talking Addams family centered (because this is my main interest point in watching it), so I am not talking about the new characters.

I grew up with the Barry Sonnenfeld Addams family version so that’s my „main universe“. I saw the original series far later. And now recently the animated movies and Wednesday series. They all have the main core theme, but overall a different vibe. So for me to enjoy them I have to separate them. Though I gotta say that the modern content in recent years misses a few points. I can’t lay my finger on it exactly, but it feels off a bit. It feels like it tries to be obviously over the edge to show „we‘re the Addams, we‘re so wonky right?? And you like that extreme. Right guys??“.

Which isn’t necessary. It’s why they gained so many fans in the first place, because they‘re so non-chalant about it and gave a natural feel about it.

Also one of the bigger things that itch me is the portrayal of Morticia in Wednesday and the over-the-top, unnecessary mother-daughter quarrel between Morticia and Wednesday. Morticia is portrayed in a more snobbish and arrogant way which makes her more distant already. Her troubled relationship with Wednesday feels like it came outta nowhere and never really gets explained why and in one episode, in a certain moment, it just goes poof. That was the annoying point I had in this series. Because here it seemed the creators just desperately wanted to underline the teenage series topic again by making her go through „i don’t like my parents/my parents are embarrassing“ phase and by changing Morticia a bit in their favor to support that. We never had that or this strongly in any other Addams content, so it threw me for a loop. I do hope there won’t be a repeat of overtly annoying normative teenager stuff, but it is netflix, so we‘ll see.

The Addams general storyline didn’t feel fleshed out, more like rushed. Another point was Morticia‘s relationship with Weems. We never get to know what happened here. And we can’t get a lot of indications because Morticia in general doesn’t see or consider other characters a lot. The relationship between the Addams in general feels?? fleeting (except MorticiaxGomez of course)? I can‘t pinpoint it, but what I love so much about the Addams is that they are a team in so many ways with a strong bond and this series can‘t or won’t make use of that main trait, because…yea well „netflix focusing on teenagers getting cray cray“. I heard a lot of people giving the actors the fault, like catherine zeeta jones, but actually give her smth to work with in the first place.

So yea, Wednesday had a lot of good stuff. I.e. I do love that we got more Thing content with this series. Or seeing more of Wednesday‘s talent for various stuff and her being passionate about them. And the case not being too obvious to keep the suspense. Though I wish for less teenage drama next time to keep character authenticity and less edginess made to be „cooler“ for younger audiences. An enjoyable Addams themed series, but as I said viewed as a separate universe.

[stormblessed95]

An Anon Rant

I had someone send in an ask, but then ask for it to be anon, so Im posting it for them seperatly. It's a rant, but I'm okay with letting them rant for a minute. Im probably not going to post about it again after letting anon get it off their chest though. So if you aren't interested in reading a rant about the hypocrisy being seen in the "shipperdom" spaces (all of them, not just jkkr, not just tkkr, but all shipper spaces honestly), then this is your warning to just, scroll on by....

I was sitting here smdh and thinking {in regards to the uptick in rumors being spread about the members lately, both with ships and individuals too} “wow y’all are really somehow bored during chapter two huh?” it hit me! tkkrs don’t get the amount of content they want so they make up stories and narratives and drama to give them the feeling of having gotten some content. It’s like a dopamine hit, they aren’t getting it naturally so they are forcing the hit synthetically. and right now, I’m seeing jkkrs and other shippers doing the same. I would say this has been building since the boys started their first period of extending leave last December (the unofficial start of chapter two) and we got to January where there was less content happening and people started wilding with the nonsense narratives.

This fandom is being fed plenty, but because there isn’t weekly run bts episodes and behinds, or an in the soop/bon voyage or anything for people to get their weekly fix of moments, they are taking to the tkkrs way of life and making shit up, or making up new narratives for past moments where there was no drama at all, like be real!

These are real people out living their real lives and we are still so so beyond spoiled with the amount of content given to us by them, but it’s not enough for people?? like if you miss them, go rewatch the 2.5 hr jikook 2013-2021 video, or any of their full year compilations. rewatch favorite moments and enjoy that we got to witness them, catch up on vlives you’ve missed, or rewatch ones you haven’t watched in years. don’t treat them like characters who are not entertaining you enough and so you feel the need to make up shit. If you’re going to do that go write some fanfics and post them on ao3 where we all can appreciate that it’s purely fiction instead of you pretending your fictional world has any impact on the real one.

Can y’all just hold out until we get to the documentary series were supposed to get next year? it’ll give us all kinds of unseen moments from throughout their entire careers and you can all enjoy reality there with the rest of us!

I’m also so annoyed by all of this that I don’t have it in me to reread this for typos so i apologies for any that were there but I’m hoping my point came across well anyway.

Honestly, I'm just here bts, here for jikook, here for supporting them and what THEY choose to tell us and share with us. I'm over so much of the shipping mentality too. It's exhausting. Hopefully those of you who can't wait to see jikook again can be patient. And like anon mentioned too, look forward to the documentary that's coming! That's going to be a wealth of information and fascinating moments and tidbits and things the members are sharing that I can't wait to see. I love them and I love how much they are sharing with us Honestly, even if it's not as much as it used to be. It's more than anyone could expect! I know anon mostly focused on jkkr spaces here, but it sorta applies to EVERYTHING. Jikookers. All other shippers. Het shippers. Military enlistment. Music releases. Etc etc etc.

[once-upon-an-animation]

And more than anything this is my issue with having Percy be a survivor of child abuse. I think it’s briefly mentioned that he doesn’t like the smell of beer, but like. After Gabe disappears it’s hardly brought up at all. I feel like. There could be so MUCH material there.

Why Percy has an issue with the gods’ mistreatment of their children, why he’s so angry all the time. Why he’s so protective of his mom.

And Paul!!! We could have had a scene where is super weary and doesn’t trust Paul at first. What was even the point of having Percy have an abusive stepfather.

And don’t EVEN get me started on how Annabeth had so much POTENTIAL for character development that just. Never happened because you never see her dealing with her own trauma

Oh my gosh, I thought I was the only who was surprised at how quickly Percy warmed up to having Paul around!

Like look, Paul is a nice guy and I’m glad that Percy has a positive father figure in his life. But the speed at which Percy warms up to Paul just doesn’t feel right. Like you said, Percy should have been a lot more weary of Paul, and Rick should have taken additional time to explore how Percy feels about having a new dad and how his history with Gabe and Poseidon affects that.

And ughhh, don’t get me started on Annabeth either. The “resolution” of her family drama, the fact that her core personality and views never really change over the course of both series, and the lack of any attempts to counter her fatal flaw deeply annoys me.

I think another general problem I have with Rick’s writing is that he focuses too much on the adventure, and not enough time letting the characters sit with and explore their emotions. He’s all about the constant action and quick pacing, but one of the most important parts of meaningful writing is “slow down” scenes, in which you pause the action for a significant time and focus more on emotions, self-reflection, bonding, etc. PJO/HoO do not have enough slow down scenes, and are missing slow-down scenes in some areas where they would have actually had a big impact. A good story should not be “go! go! go!” all the time. As a writer, you need to know when to let the emotions of a story sit and simmer for a scene or two.

[waitmyturtles]

I’ve been SO EXCITED to write this: KINN! PORSCHE! META!

Yes, I am terribly, terribly late to writing this and I admittedly only started watching the series with two or three episodes left as I was just joining Tumblr. But my dash pushed me to watch the series and I’m so glad I did. KinnPorsche is also my first Thai BL drama (actually my first Thai drama, too) ever, so if I’m missing any obvious Thai BL trope references, I apologize in advance.

The whole origin story of KinnPorsche is super fascinating, not the least that Mile Phakphum himself, as one of the lead actors and key producers, had full awareness of his own role both in plot and show development. Considering the central point I want to make in this meta, I think this straddling between reality and drama that Mile was able to achieve with screenwriter Pond Krisda helped the cast and crew to achieve the environmental effect that I think helped the show become the absolute success that it is. 

By environmental effect, what I’m referring to is the universe that KinnPorsche created. I’ve seen posts and tweets here on Tumblr refer to complaints by other viewers that it wouldn’t be at all realistic that such a universe as KinnPorsche -- one in which multiple family members, friends, and acquaintances are queer and/or exploring -- could ever exist.

That is such lazy and bullshit thinking, and I think the high majority of viewers who followed this show know that that discriminatory thinking is also bullshit. I know, and have worked with, families and communities with all manner of layers of queerness and spectrum-traversing identities and expressions contained in their circles. 

I’ve written before that what keeps me coming back to Asian dramas across the continent is that so much content is written to be family-centric in emotional and behavioral structures that I understand intrinsically as an Asian-American. Sure, there is PLENTY about KinnPorsche that kept me very hooked:

- gorgeous men

- gorgeous men in VERY VISUALLY COMPELLING situations, heh

- fabulous acting and cinematography

- fantastic balance of comedy, drama, and camp

- Tankhun, the absolute god(dess)

- Jeff Satur (he’s otherworldly!)

But as the kind of viewer I am, what I’m looking for in a drama is what’s unsaid, what’s left unspoken about the show’s internal reality. (For instance, I’ve written a lot about Extraordinary Attorney Woo, and how that show normalized the agency that an autistic individual SHOULD rightly have in determining her professional and romantic fates, despite society’s demands that she depend on others to make those decisions for her.)

What was left unsaid, unspoken, in KinnPorsche for me was a family aspect that I very much enjoyed, focused namely on our head patriarch, Korn. Korn, a man who’ll stop at nothing to ensure the success and security of his family as the major entity of an extensive crime syndicate. 

As I mentioned before, what I loved about KinnPorsche was the environmental effect of queerness as a given throughout the show. The only moment I can think of where we saw overt homophobia was Big forcing Porsche into Kinn’s room early in the series, and Porsche calling Big out. 

What I DIDN’T see in KinnPorsche was something that I think taints a lot of Western content about queerness -- namely (ugh), how do the other characters feel about queerness? And usually, those “other” characters I’m referring to are, say, cishet family members or friends who have to go through their journeys of acceptance for the main queer characters to be accepted in the worlds of those cishet individuals.

To me, this kind of construct is so unnecessary Western, centering on each supporting individual’s process of acceptance as a necessary plot line before the Western show can even create a world in which queerness is an unspoken given. (I want to quickly just say, as a tangent, that I think Western writers, directors, and studios think that Western audiences demand this, because our Western culture is so self-demanding, selfish, and self-referential. Namely, how could a Western audience ever relate to a universe of queerness? Western writers need to make their content about the cishet audience first, and queerness second. The last thing I ever need to see again on Western screens is a cishet parent coming to terms with a child’s queerness. We are in the 21st century. I don’t need those stories anymore!)

So, in comparison to these constructs that I continue to see in the West -- what did KinnPorsche give us?

KinnPorsche gave us a relatively sociopathic, relatively bloodthirsty, and murderous crime head in Korn, a guy who cares about his family in kind of twisted ways, and someone who clearly offs family members (like Gun and Thee) before allowing the business to be affected. In other words, he’s a good crime character, a wack-ass rationalizer who’s scary and calculating.

As far as I can recall, the only reference he ever made to the queerness of any of his three sons was when he spoke with Kinn about hooking up with Porsche their first night in the hotel room. And it wasn’t a conversation about, like, omg Kinn ur gayyyy?? It was -- what were you thinking, sleeping with your bodyguard? As a mom, if my kids needed bodyguards (wow), I might ask the same question!

In other words, Korn, at the moment of time that we saw in KinnPorsche, was just a dad. A crime-driven dad who cared for his family business and his sons. At no time did the queerness of his sons need to be separately contextualized for anyone else or anything related to work.

Tankhun and Kinn were integral parts of the business meetings and decisions. Tankhun gave his input -- fabulously, of course, but we never saw Korn wince. We never, EVER saw Korn embarrassed. To Korn, these were his sons, the men who would inherit the family business after his passing. Who they were vis à vis their queerness was never an issue for Korn, and never written as an issue for the show. Korn’s focus was solely about keeping the family and the business together.

I LOVED THIS.

I loved that the queerness of Korn’s sons was never separately contextualized or discussed. It was a total non-issue for Korn. He’s a dad who needed to run his business and loves his sons. That’s it. That’s the lesson that parents need to see and emulate as we raise our own kids (okay, maybe not the crime part, heh). 

While I complain about Western content, there are, of course, volumes of Asian BL shows that deal with the unspoken aspects of queer discrimination in Asian societies. 

However, we didn’t see discrimination in KinnPorsche, and the universe that KinnPorsche created didn’t NEED it. And frankly, while the show attracted its whiners, I think the show absolutely pulled off the universe convincingly. This may need its own meta, but Porsche himself as a fluidly bisexual lead was also brilliant and important and incredible to watch. 

The fact that there was no JOURNEY to watch, a journey of “acceptance” -- I didn’t miss it, and the show didn’t need it. The guys were there, they were themselves, and their world was theirs, without any other extraneous conversation about belonging or acceptance. 

After all that I’ve read and re-blogged about KinnPorsche, I’m thankful this is another one of the dramas I’ve watched that left me feeling totally blissed out after watching it. I needed a lot of time to decompress while and after watching it, because SO MUCH HAPPENED in that fictional world, and is still happening in the world of Be On Cloud and Mile and Apo and all the guys. I understand why the KinnPorsche tag and fandom are still cranking out content strong -- there’s so much to process. 

Mile and Apo and Pond and the Be On Cloud guys deserve all the success and joys that the show has given them, and I can’t wait to see the movie that they’re developing next. If the writing is half as good as KinnPorsche, it’ll be a joy to watch.

[respectthepetty]

Hiya! What BL series would you recommend the most? So far, I've loved watching KinnPorsche (it's THE best!!), I Told Sunset about You, Cutie Pie & Bad Buddy. I also got into To My Star because of you, so cheers for that!

Anyway, I would love to watch more shows but I find it a bit hard to navigate because there's so many (and no offense, but some of which I initially started watching ended up being quite lame imo), so I would love to hear about your favs! Thanks in advance if you decide to reply. Have a lovely day/night wherever you are x

I have had this question several times over the past few months, but yours has been, by far, the kindest ask, so I'll answer now:

You don't want my trash recommendations.

So many others on here do it better, like @absolutebl! They have entire spreadsheets to break down preferences while I have five rules:

Don't bury the gay (MANDATORY!)

Be gay. Do crime! aka "Eff the police" (literally and figuratively)

I'm a messy bi, and I'll cry if I want to

Adulting is hard like my sexual attraction for you

Vice Vers(a) - Flipping the norms and changing dynamics

If a show gives me two out of four (since I will never allow a show to Killing Eve me again!), I'm going to fight random people AND their unborn kiddos in the street for it. Case & point:

HIStory 4: Close to You (2021, 10 episodes, Taiwan - 9/10) - I loved all of. Not some parts. Not only one of the couples. No! ALL. OF. IT! Every couple. Every situation. Including the stepbrothers relationship and the whole ridiculous top/bottom conversations. LOVED IT! It had the messy factor that others only aspire to achieve.

Taiwan has a tight hold on passionate men in sweatpants and a basic shirt down, and for that, I'm grateful!

Now that you know this is my floor, hopefully you understand that like my fave, Marie Kondo...

I was raised on telenovelas and soap operas, so if an evil twin kidnaps the protagonist then sleeps with him and has a child who is given up to an orphanage only to grow up and fall in love with his rich (unknown to him) brother and uses witchcraft to give the rival love interest amnesia, I'd be happily sitting every week to witness it with no qualms. Who am I to judge?! Makes sense to me!

Which means I don't LOVE some dramas even though they are great because my basic rules don't apply, the messiness is missing, or they will be too tough to rewatch:

Bad Buddy (7/10) because I wanted one of them to snap, crackle, and pop off at their parents for passing on generational trauma. Also, being in love with Bad Bunny yet trying to say this title was too difficult for my brain.

I Told Sunset About You (8/10) is rude and feels like a personal attack. You've seen it, so you know what I'm writing about. We don't speak about the sequel.

Semantic Error (9/10) hurt because anyone who has been in a group project knows the pain that the lead felt, yet it tried to convince us that he was in the wrong. Team No Group Assignment!

Cherry Magic's (8/10) second couple made me irrationally upset. Cats can bring people together, but these two? Really?! Cats are better than this street dancing moment!

Gameboys' (7/10) whole plot of the dad going out to look for the son and catching COVID was...yeah, no. And if the lead said "baby" ONE MORE TIME, I was going to make like a balloon in a toddler's hand and POP!

We Best Love 1 & 2 (8/10) gave us a five year time jump between the first and second part, and if it weren't for that *excellent* drunk moment, I would have stopped watching it and stored part two in the horrible-sequels-we-don't-speak-about pile.

But a man plotting from the age of ten to manipulate his whole family into accepting him sleeping with his stepbrother (HIStory 4 - 9/10), I fully support.

Therefore, you don't want what I'm peddling. Unless you do...

Trying to spotlight more recent ones because they will be easier to find

Be gay. Do crime: Too focused on one a**hole to notice the many plot holes.

Manner of Death (2020, 14 episodes, Thailand - 7.5/10) - A story of two men trying to have sex while EVERYONE around them is being killed. Oh, and then there is a cactus and a baby murderer horribly fighting his feeling for the smartest/dumbest guy in the town.

KinnPorsche (2022, 14 episodes, Thailand - 8/10) - A story about a family that is determined to dickmatize the first person who is kind to them, which you already watched, so you know they succeed.

Eff the Police: Tend to have issues finishing, but always a fun ride *pun intended*.

Not Me (2022, 14 episodes, Thailand - 7.5/10) - Literally, eff the police...but also, figuratively.

HIStory 3: Trapped (2019, 10 episodes, Taiwan - 8/10) - If we can't avoid the cops, sleep with them, so at least we can have a good character witness.

Messy Bi: There will be tears. Lots and lots of tears.

Love Mechanics (2020 and remake in 2022, 4 episodes/10 episodes, Thailand - 7/10, remake 8/10) - Polyamory is the answer, but the characters refuse to share.

Hello, Stranger (2020, 8 episodes, Philippines - 7.5/10) - A jock decides flirting with a guy is easier than actually doing his portion of the group project. The movie sequel is not on this level.

Adulting is Hard: The angst is strong, but the chemistry is stronger.

To My Star (2021, 9 episodes, South Korea - 9.5/10) - When being a big star is too difficult, stop showing up for work, crash at someone else's house, and pop his pimples. To My Star 2 is not on this level but still brought the chemistry, so if you didn't watch, do it.

He's Coming To Me (2019, 8 episodes, Thailand - 8/10) - Life is hard, but the afterlife is harder, so pester a kid for a decade until he decides to solve murders. The way the main's sexuality is handled is perfect.

Vice Vers(a): The confessions are ALWAYS a 10!

Old Fashion Cupcake (2022, 5 episodes, Japan - 9.5/10) - When in love with a boss, walk a delicate line of being the best employee while letting him know exactly the eight ways you can blow hi...his mind...with your mo...monumental organization ski.. Oh eff it him!

My Beautiful Man (2021, 6 episodes, Japan - 9/10) - Just an ordinary man who wants to be loved and the guy who wants to worship him in every way possible.

DNA Says Love You (2022, 12 episodes, Taiwan - 8/10) - The audience knows the whole time what is happening, but has no idea what is actually happening. Is it a ghost story? Is it about a soul reincarnating? Is this about amnesia? Nope. Well, actually...yeah, still no.

I have a lot more, but this is already too long.

All in all, embrace what you like. If you like a certain aspect of show, latch on to it and explore others that showcase that particular plot device. Also, don't be ashamed of what you like. Even if others think it's lame, if you like it, then I love it. Believe me, if China had finished Addicted, there be a lot more people living in glass houses keeping quiet instead of judging us because some guys in the mafia actually do bad things.