#this one...idek where it started actually

[sparkles-oflight]

Bojan: Martin, are you going to grocery store? Martin: Yeah, going to buy a loaf of bread. Bojan: Cool, if there's any apples, can you bring five? Martin: sure thing *after Martin goes shopping* Martin, entering their house with 5 loaves of bread: There were apples

[shion-yu]

Do y’all write outlines? Am I weird that I just go in with a vibe in mind and have no idea what the beginning, middle or end of this story is going to be? It makes it hard to figure out when I’m done and clearly does not lend itself to a story which circles back on itself appropriately but I’m not trying to write the next Great American Novel, this is sickfic and I feel like I’d never write at all if I made myself stay organized. I commend people who use their braincells for good.

[dearmyloveleys]

aw man reading this portion in the first bit of mdzs in the og text, giving it my own translation and feeling bittersweet:

[WWX]

“魏无羡提起湿淋淋的手掌，就着溪水，一点一点抹去这不知是在嘲笑谁的粉饰。

并非无法承受。毕竟当初做出选择时，就已无比清楚，今后将面对的是什么道路。只记住云梦江氏教给他的东西，记住那一句家训——“明知不可而为之”。

只是自以为心若顽石，却终究人非草木。”

Wei Wuxian raised a wet palm by the stream. Bit by bit, he wiped away the powder makeup, its deriding laughter he wasn’t sure was directed at whom.

It was not that he couldn’t bear it. After all, when he made the decision back then, there was nothing clearer, about what the path he’d face thereafter would be like. He only remembered the things that Yunmeng Jiang Sect taught him, remembered that one line of the Sect motto — “Turn what you know is impossible into a possibility.”/“Attempt it even when you know it’s impossible.”

It was only that he thought the heart was like stone, but at the end of it all, people still were not plants and trees.

[hercarisntyours]

so fear street prom queen huh

[luetta]

[apollo-just-ice]

The funniest and saddest thing perhaps is how captivated I have been by Skaði/Njörðr lately…

Yeah. Njörðr from Feh and his… presumably existing wife that isn’t even in Feh in any shape way or form atm.

I mean I’ve taken what can be learnt from Norse mythology and have made her into my own character, basically, but still…

I am working on a fic rn but man. Who is gonna get this except me? It’s crazy. But I am having fun with it soooooo. Hopefully that’ll be enough <3

[chaosduckies]

I’m confused

I love g/t but don’t know where to start! How should I go about it?

Hello!

Everyone starts out different! I just went with what I was more comfortable with! (Which was writing)

If you’re into writing, I can say that planning out your characters is key. Personally, I like to make little ref sheets for everyone, describe what they look like in detail, what they like, what they don’t like, how they would react in certain situations and such. When you’re actually writing the draft or however you would like to start, make sure you have a basic outline of what you want to happen, and then write it! (This is my writing process from having to write so many essays for English teachers it helps out so much for me) Again, you may be more comfortable with an easier way! (I know mine is a long process but I find it easy) Everyone just has a different way of doing things!

If you’re more comfortable with art and drawing then I’m not really the best person to ask, but I can tell you I just kind of think of random scenes that I think would be nice to draw out and I do them! Whether it be prompts I see on Tumblr, or from a song lyric (Yes I did actually do a drawing based off of a song lyric but I will not tell you which drawing heheh~)

WOW that is a lot of information, but I believe you’ll make something great! Just try and find what you’re more comfortable with and that you know you’ll like to continue! That’s pretty much all I can say. I’m excited to see what you come up with! :D

Thank you for the ask!

[c1trvswurld]

your stuck asking stupid redundant questions you already know the answers to or don't care to hear but you do it for the sake of socializing and engaging with others' interests and to show you are a decent person to everyone including yourself

[jefferythejelly]

ok more kidfic: do u have any pregnancy hcs? Especially for Foolish bc I've only rarely seen him as a dad :3

u have no idea what u've just unleashed 90% of the brainrot bulletpoint list i have for this au is pregnancy headcanons asjdfadkjs

this is like 90% just copy pasted from that bulletpoint list and slightly edited and also i've had this document since may of last year and have been slowly adding on to it every once in a while since then so FAIR WARNING this post is Quite Long

they try decorating the nursery themselves but neither of them know what to get or how to make it cute so then foolish calls up tina who eventually just makes them call up an interior designer XD

can you imagine them telling their friends abt it. can u imagine how cute auntie tina would be. she would be taking it so serious like she doesnt want any of the responsibility but she wants to be like the cool aunt y'know

random tidbit but i can so imagine a conversation between tina and foosh where they start talkin about the phrase "buns in the oven." like i think tina would think that phrase is really cute. i think that phrase is really cute tbh. hes got buns in the oven :>

following in the vein of nervous-but-excited-newly-pregnant-couple them going to foolish's prenatal care appointments and taking his health like super seriously. also ultrasounds. i dont think either of them would Cry cry but theyd maybe get a little teary eyed lookin at their kids for the first time

on some more classic omegaverse bullshit: punz had always been a bit possessive/protective as a partner and that very much continues once theyre mates and foolish is pregnant. like really frequently is holding his hand or has an arm around him, tries to be really doting and get him whatever he asks. not as common when theyre in public but one of his fave things to do is hug foolish from behind with his hands on his stomach

i'd imagine they have a few arguments esp when foolish is hormonal and does/says shit that annoys punz and he cant understand why. they work it out tho, bc they love each other <3

in the time leading up to foolish's due date his nesting instincts go crazy. theres nests everywhere in the whole house. when hes not sitting chilling in a nest hes making a new one or readjusting one

(this one is real long bc it is a vaguely drafted out scene oops) foolish's water breaks on stream/at least when he's in vc on someone else's stream bc like. i deffo think it would. u think this man would take a break? like the streams would get shorter especially as his hormones and instincts get more fucky but he would still be trying to be on that grindTM. and (bcuz this is the part i actually vaguely researched) he's been having like the irregular not actually real contractions (theres a name im forgetting it rn) so hes gotten used to just like feeling them, noting when the time is, and brushing it off when it doesnt happen again. so he's in vc with someone, i'm thinking tina lets just say tina, and he's in the middle of laughing really hard at a joke, but abruptly cuts off his windexing when he feels the whole "rush of fluid" thing and is all like o_o and tina's all like "foolish? you okay?" when he stops laughing like that and foolish is like "uh. i think my water just broke?" which makes tina go all "wait What?! like- like the baby's coming?" "yeah" "foolish!" (chat is freaking out. monkaS monkaW fukW) "shouldnt you like, go to the hospital?" "yeah, uh, bye chat!" (chat has been yelling at him since he said his water broke to end stream) he yells for punz who ofc comes rushing into the room like "whats going on do you need something" and when foolish tells him his water just broke he starts freaking out a little and then foolish has a contraction right then (is that realistic timing tbh its been a while since i did that google search. what i do remember is that theres apparently apps for timing contractions like isnt that neat. anyways) but then theyre like "sorry tina bye!" and then tinas like "good luck!" (is that a normal thing to say idk. even if it isnt it could be funny hashtag awkward girl swag /affectionate) and then they like drive to the hospital and stuff

i just have this image of like the night they come back from the hospital both of them in their nest with the babies laying between them oughhhhhh

listen i just think this is really cute but punz sitting on the edge of the hospital bed while foolish is in labor so he can lean into him and calm down with his scent

actually thought abt it a bit more and mayb this is more general omegaverse hcs but like i think omegas would have an instinct to give birth in a nest which obv is harder to do while also having the support of modern medicine in a hospital but maybe it is more normalized to bring some blankets/pillows/clothes/what have you to make a lil temporary nest in the hospital bed

foolish is way more absentminded/no thoughts head empty than usual (like forgets what hes saying in the middle of a sentence bad) bc of fucked up hormones pregnancy brain

he tries having one or two blankets wrapped around him on stream to be sort of like a temporary nest when his instincts start going wacky. sometimes it works sometimes he accidentally gets too sleepy and begrudgingly admits that he should probably end stream bc he can barely think thru the omega nesting instinct brain fog

actually on that note i think there a couple of times where punz basically forces him to take a break from streaming. it never lasts very long

i have decided that the timing of their baby is such that foolish is like 7/8 months when christmas rolls around bc i was at family christmas brainrotting what it would be like for them to have like cute domestic family christmas while foolish is still pregnant. he falls asleep on the couch leaning against punz's shoulder after dinner its very cute

they maybe do a thing where like they have christmas with one family on eve and one on day and have a slightly chaotic nighttime flight? do the flight times work out for that idk. but its bc their families wanna see them bc theyre all excited for the baby awwww

wait just remembered the whole scene i had imagined for this where they land in mass super late at night/early morning and once they get back to punz's parents house p much immediately go to bed but foolish cant sleep bc the babies keep moving and kicking and punz scootches down so hes all curled up next to his tummy and purrs at them so that they calm down and foolish can sleep

at the end of his pregnancy foolish is just like capital d Done like get these babies out my back hurts im tired my belly is fuckin huge. ive got tits now

punz very happily gives him back massages tho <3 even if he sometimes gets overdramatically whiny about it first

foolish is one day horrified to realize none of his usual foods are appealing and he is instead craving some weird ass food combo

when foolish starts showing more and its gonna be harder to hide on stream they do a cute lil classic pregnancy announcement photo where punz like has his hands around him on his belly (maybe taken by karl? or someone? i just realized i have no idea where i hc them living like i guess its always been vaguely nc but idk if thats like. necessary? idk whatever) but im imagining the one they end up posting isnt even one of the ones they were posing for its like a candid one where theyre looking at each other over foolishs shoulder or like laughing or something idk its cute its not staged and weird lookin

oh also at some point punz convinces foolish to do a maternity photoshoot (well kind of. its just punz taking pics of him in his underwear bc he maybe has a Thing for heavily pregnant foolish) and at first foolish feels kinda embarrassed and silly and punz keeps complimenting him and making him flustered (i have a couple of lil doodles of this + a few other ones related to this au in a sketchbook somewhere but i dont feel like digging them out + taking pics rn ajfsbajskb)

final note would like everyone to know as i was typing this foolish lost his water bucket in mc and he phrased it like "my water just broke" and chat was all like "wow congratulations whos the father." like what are the chances. also why is he like this. also can u really blame me for making this au when he is like this

[kaykoko]

I finally finished Dungeon Meshi!!! Very fun read and amazing charaters!! The hype i have for the anime now is unreal!

[hrina]

[angeloftrumpets]

Thinking about the other f/o 🥹🥹🥹

[finally-got-a-diagnosis]

Y'know when someone close to you does something that really irks you but you do the same or something similar back to them but you don't know if it's you mirroring them or if it's something that you'd have done even if you've never known them? Or is that just me?

[disco-wyrm]

Random psa to regularly save your games especially if they dont have an autosave feature

[sad--tree]

need 2 go formal wear shopping at some point soonish. dread. :|

[aajjks]

The Boy (III)

synopsis. All he ever wanted was someone to love.

pairing: yandere!brahms doll jungkook x fem!nanny reader. ft. Cha eunwoo.

genre: 18+ horror, smut, angst and yandere.

warnings. 18+ YÁNDÈRÈ, dàrk thèmès, dïstúrbíng thèmès, mèntïóns ôf à dàrk pàst, yn ïs só dàmn hórny, dóll, erríe thèmès, únsèttlíng thèmès, híghly sèxúàl thèmès, nèèdy, shàmlèss ýn, tsúndèrè èúnwòò.

wc: idek it’s long tho

fic note. Please keep in mind that this fanfiction is the exact copy of the movie from the same name “the boy” (2016) so if you find any similarities, that’s on purpose. Also viewer discretion is highly advised.

taglist. @tatumrileyslover @slut4jeon @strawberryberrygirl @starl0ver4 @darkcyclecreator @taekritimin123@erisuna @devilslittlehelper @introvertedsin @jadaocon1 @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @wowersblog@jincapableoflove @whothefuckisthishoe @avawants2havefun @sophipp1 @moonfloweronmars @crisle19 @ctrlsht@mrsjohnnysuh @ennvfv @kpopsmutty69 [open for more]

•••

You wake up… wet.

No, not like that. Well—kind of.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead. You’re hot. Your thighs are pressed too tightly together. Your dreams were criminal. There were hands. Multiple hands?

Was it Eunwoo’s? Was it someone else’s? Was it yours?

You blink up at the ornately carved ceiling and groan.

Why am I like this?

You sit up, your silk nightgown clinging to your skin as if it, too, is judging you. The room is heavy with silence, but your body is screaming.

God, he’s really staying here. Eunwoo is in the same house. With me.

Under one roof.

The sexual tension could choke a Victorian ghost.

You rub your eyes. “Okay, girl. Pull it together. You have a doll to babysit and a man to emotionally ruin.”

You slip into your robe.

your sluttiest one, obviously.

And tiptoe down the massive staircase. Your breath catches when you reach the bottom and—

He’s in the kitchen.

Eunwoo.

Shirt slightly wrinkled, sleeves rolled up, chewing toast with all the emotional intensity of a war general.

You stare at him like he’s a croissant and you’re fresh out of carbs.

“Good morning,” you say, voice trying to be casual but coming out like a breathy porn line.

He glances at you. Glances. No smile. No nod. Just a withering up-down that stops dead on your bare legs. “It’s 11:47.”

You blink. “Wow. So punctual. Did JK tell you that too?”

That gets his attention. His jaw ticks.

“Don’t call him that.”

You blink innocently. “What? JK? The d—;”

“If you say the word ‘doll,’ I swear to God I’ll report you to Ji-seon and Jeong-hwan.”

You throw up your hands. “Alright! Chill! JK, the tiny man of the house. Got it.”

He goes back to chewing. You lean on the marble counter like you’re about to seduce a duke.

“So… you’re staying the night again?”

“I am.”

“Fun.”

“It’s not.”

You smirk. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re not here to have fun,” he deadpans. “You’re here to follow the rules.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, master. Anything for JK.”

He looks at you. Really looks. And then, so coldly, so sharply, it nearly slices your ego in half, he says:

“You’re not his type.”

You blink.

“Oh my God. Did you just slut-shame me on behalf of a doll?”

“Not a doll.”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine. JK. Not-a-doll. The six-pound king of this haunted Barbie dreamhouse. I live to serve.”

Eunwoo finishes his toast, wipes his mouth, and says, “Maybe try actually doing your job then.”

Then he walks out. Just, leaves.

Like a ghost in Gucci.

You stare after him, panting. “Why does that make me want him more?”

•••

You stare at the spot where Eunwoo disappeared, your jaw slack, your thighs clenched, and your dignity bleeding out somewhere near the toaster.

“You’re not his type.”

Did that emotionally constipated man just weaponize the words of a six-pound porcelain demon to roast your entire bloodline?

You grip the counter. “You know what? I am someone’s type. Maybe not Mr. Emotionally Repressed Toast Biter, but someone’s.”

A beat.

“…Like JK.”

And that’s when the humming starts.

Your spine goes stiff.

It’s soft—like a music box—but broken, too slow, like someone dragging a finger across rusty teeth.

“Pretty…”

You spin around so fast you nearly pop a tit.

“Hello?” you call out, voice cracking just a little. The hallway stares back, still and shadowy.

You left him alone.

Shit.

You sprint through the hall, past antique portraits that follow you with judging eyes, and barge into JK’s room like a horny maniac with performance anxiety.

He’s sitting exactly where you left him. in the center of his little armchair. Neatly dressed, eyes glossy and dead.

But now his head is tilted.

Slightly.

To the left.

You didn’t leave him like that. You’re positive.

“…Hi,” you say, voice unsure. “Sorry I was late. I had a weird, deeply demoralizing interaction with a man who smells like cedarwood and abandonment issues.”

No response.

You tiptoe closer. Your breath hitches as you see it:

His tiny little hand is lifted.

Just barely.

“Stay…” the word floats through the room, so soft it might’ve been imagined.

Your whole body goosebumps.

“…Okay,” you whisper. “Okay. I’m here.”

You grab the crumpled routine sheet off the nearby dresser and read aloud like you’re preparing for the creepiest Zoom call of your life.

“Morning routine,” you mutter. “Talk to JK about your day, brush his hair, clean his clothes…”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

“…You good if we skip the small talk and go straight to the spa part?”

No answer.

You brush his hair with slow, shaking fingers, like you’re afraid he’ll bite.

“Pretty…”

You freeze.

“JK, I swear on your pinky toe, if you move, I will call a priest, a therapist, and three bouncers.”

He doesn’t move. But the air shifts.

You wipe his face with a warm cloth, humming a little tune, your hands trembling.

“Don’t…” comes the whisper again, softer now, almost mournful.

“…Don’t what?” you ask.

“…Stop.”

You yeet the washcloth across the room.

“Cool. Very cool. Love that for me.”

But you keep going. Because a part of you, some masochistic, twisted little part likes it.

Being watched. Being needed. Even if it’s by something that might not even be alive.

Or maybe especially because of that.

At least he’s paying attention.

You look down at JK, who seems to smile just a little. Or maybe that’s your sleep-deprived sex-brain making things up again.

You sigh. “Alright. Next on the agenda: watching TV with a doll who may or may not want to wear my skin.”

You scoop him up, carefully, respectfully and take him to the living room. Plop him next to you on the couch like he’s your little haunted boyfriend.

And that’s when Eunwoo enters.

Again.

Like a ghost with a superiority complex.

He glances between you and JK and raises a brow. “Why is he slumped like that?”

You straighten him like a guilty child. “Sorry. We were watching Love Island.”

Eunwoo walks over and kneels in front of JK like he’s greeting royalty. His hands are delicate, reverent. His voice is low and serious.

“Did she take care of you?”

Your jaw drops. “Hello?? I’m right here??”

He doesn’t look at you.

“Did she follow the routine?”

You scoff. “Oh my God. Are you jealous? Do you wish you were JK?”

That gets his attention. He stands slowly, towering over you, and says—so ice-cold it burns:

“No. But I do wish he had a better caretaker.”

Ouch.

Your thighs clench. Not from shame. From unspeakable thirst.

“…That’s hot,” you whisper.

He walks away. Again.

Why do I love that?

•••

You flop onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, legs spread unladylike, your robe slipping just enough to tempt a ghost.

JK sits next to you. His head is tilted again. Judging you. As usual.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, glaring at his glossy little eyes. “You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what he said. ‘I wish he had a better caretaker.’ Excuse me? Rude.”

You poke his tiny chest.

“I did your hair. I cleaned your creepy little face. I let you watch TV. I even turned the subtitles on. What more do you want from me?!”

“Stay…”

You freeze.

“…That was not the answer I was looking for.”

You press the remote’s mute button and stare at the doll like he’s your therapist-slash-hate-crush.

“I know I’m not supposed to talk about this stuff with you, but honestly what’s he even doing here? He’s not helpful. He’s just… there. Being hot. Making toast. Judging my robe.”

You sigh and flop sideways, dramatically resting your head on JK’s little lap like you’re Juliet and he’s the saddest Romeo.

“I mean, I flirt. I smolder. I bend over extra slow when I pick things up. I greeted him in a towel, JK. A towel. Do you know how brave that is in this lighting?!”

“Pretty…” comes the faintest whisper, like a caress up your spine.

You blink. Sit up slowly.

“…Wait. Did you just call me…?”

Nothing. Silence.

You stare at the doll.

“…Okay, first of all, thank you. Finally, someone around here acknowledges the slay.”

You stand up, pacing, robe clinging to your thighs like a second skin. The house groans faintly as if it, too, is tired of your shenanigans.

“Eunwoo is the type of guy who probably sleeps in a straight line and thinks missionary is experimental,”

You mutter, hands gesturing wildly. “Like, I bet if I begged him to choke me, he’d be like ‘that’s not in the handbook.’”

JK just stares, wide-eyed and blank.

You lean in close.

“Don’t pretend you’re above this, little man. You’ve seen me spiral before. Remember last night? The towel? The screaming? The existential horniness? You were THERE.”

You glance around. The lights seem dimmer now. The fireplace flickers even though you swear it was off a second ago.

“…Am I losing it?” you whisper.

“Stay.”

You jump.

It came from the hallway this time.

A long, drawn-out version, like a croak through a child’s voice box. Ssstaaaayy…

You clutch JK automatically, gripping him like a haunted teddy bear, your breath hitching.

“…JK? Was that you?” you whisper, peeking around the corner.

Nothing.

Your brain is a blender of unrelenting thirst and slow-brewing fear. You hug JK tighter and whisper, “I’m too horny to die like this. Please don’t be possessed.”

You glance down at him again.

His smile seems… wider.

“…Okay. Shower time. No ghost can stop me from shaving my legs and pretending Eunwoo’s watching.”

You march toward the grand staircase. The house breathes with you—walls creaking, portraits watching.

You look over your shoulder one last time at JK still sitting on the couch, propped up perfectly.

“Be good.”

“Stay.”

You break into a sprint.

•••

you’re heading to the shower, still buzzing from JK’s whispers and Eunwoo’s cold rejection. The house is humming. Something is watching.

You lock the bathroom door behind you like that’s going to do a damn thing.

The house creaks overhead.

You toss your robe off dramatically. [Oscar-worthy, really]

And crank the shower to scalding away my sins mode.

Steam billows up fast, curling around your bare skin like invisible hands. You step in, sighing like a woman in a perfume commercial.

“God. Yes. Finally. Me time,” you moan, letting the water slide down your back. You close your eyes and press your palms to the cold tile.

Maybe I’ll just die here. Drenched and hot and alone.

You tilt your head back, letting the water drench your face, imagining a very specific pair of cold hands sliding down your sides. Ugh. Eunwoo.

Why are you built like trauma and celibacy?

You groan, frustrated, thighs clenching under the spray.

That’s when it happens.

You feel it.

Not the water.

Not your hand.

Not the wall.

Something brushes your calf.

You snap your head down.

Nothing.

You laugh nervously. “Okay, haunted plumbing. Cool. Love that for me.”

You go back to rinsing.

There it is again. Higher this time. Like a light stroke up your thigh.

You whirl around. The curtain flutters like it’s breathing. But no breeze. You stare at it.

“Pretty.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. It wasn’t in your head this time. You heard it. A faint whisper. Soft. Clingy. Possessive.

“…JK?” you breathe.

Silence.

You inch the curtain open just a sliver, water dripping down your arm, mouth dry as hell.

The bathroom is empty.

But your robe—

It’s on the floor.

Not where you left it.

And it’s not just tossed, it’s neatly folded.

Like someone watched you undress, picked it up, and respectfully folded it.

You back into the shower, soap sliding uselessly down your leg, heart hammering.

“I’m gonna cry. Or cum. I don’t know which. But something’s happening,” you whisper.

You finish in record time, because apparently horny AND hunted is not a relaxing combo.

You wrap yourself in a towel, trembling, and yank the curtain aside to face the mirror.

And see something behind you.

A shadow. Low. Too low to be a person.

You turn.

Nothing there.

The air is colder now. The steam doesn’t stick.

And the mirror?

Someone wrote something in the fog.

One word.

“Stay.”

Your breath catches.

You’re not alone.

•••

You burst into the hallway like a sexy tornado wrapped in a towel.

You’re wet. You’re breathless. You’re being haunted. And you’re, shockingly hornier than ever.

“JK,” you hiss under your breath as you tiptoe barefoot down the hall, “I swear if you watched me in the shower, I’m telling your parents;”

Clunk.

You freeze.

Footsteps. Floorboards groaning.

You whip around, heart hammering.

It’s him.

Eunwoo.

Standing in the hallway. Arms crossed. Dressed in head-to-toe judgment.

You stand there dripping. Literally. Your towel is barely clinging to your chest like it’s trying to escape the situation too.

He stares at you.

You blink at him.

He blinks at your towel.

You open your mouth to say something sexy, witty, charming, deranged. but he beats you to it.

“…Are you incapable of wearing clothes?”

You clutch your towel tighter. “Oh my God. Eunwoo. Don’t act like you didn’t miss me.”

“I wasn’t looking for you.”

You point dramatically. “Then why are you here? Outside the bathroom? At this exact moment? With your judgy little jawline all clenched like that?”

He blinks once. “I came to check on JK.”

You put your hand on your hip. The towel slips a little. You don’t fix it.

“Oh, really? Not to check on this wet, vulnerable woman in distress? Not even to say, ‘Wow, you look like you survived a demonic bubble bath. Want to talk about it over wine and trauma?’”

He looks you dead in the eyes and says, “No.”

You’re dizzy. You don’t know if it’s from the heat or the shame or the sheer eroticism of being absolutely annihilated verbally.

“I think you’re a sadist,” you whisper. “And I think I’m into it.”

He steps past you like you’re air. “Put some clothes on.”

“I’m wearing a towel.”

“Exactly.”

You start to follow him, towel bouncing like it’s hanging on for dear life. “Where are you going? You can’t just emotionally wreck me and leave!”

“I told you. I’m checking on JK.”

You pout. “Ugh. You love that creepy little freak more than me.”

He stops in his tracks. Turns slowly.

“I respect JK,” he says, low and icy. “You? I’m still deciding.”

You cover your mouth, squealing. “Why is that the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me?!”

He walks faster.

You chase him.

“You’re gonna fall in love with me, you know.”

He opens the doll’s door and says flatly, “Not if he kills you first.”

You freeze.

“…What?”

The doll is exactly where you left him. Perched on the chair, eyes wide open, mouth almost… smiling?

You swear to God he winks.

You grab Eunwoo’s arm. “Okay. So just so we’re clear. if JK wants me dead, will you at least avenge me?”

“No.”

“…Will you water my plants?”

“You don’t have plants.”

“Okay, but if I did?”

He turns to you and says, voice like death, “I would feed them to JK.”

You moan.

Like actually moan.

He walks away.

You’re left standing there in your towel, in the dark, alone with the world’s creepiest doll and the biggest crush of your life, who may or may not be conspiring with said doll to emotionally destroy you.

And somehow, you’re into it.

You look at JK, eyes narrowing.

“You little freak. I bet you like watching this, don’t you?”

The doll’s head twitches.

Your smile drops.

“…Okay. Nope. We’re not doing this tonight.”

You grab a bathrobe off the wall hook and whisper, “I’m about to sage the fuck out of this room.”

And from somewhere behind you, faint as a kiss—

“Pretty.”

You scream.

•••

You rush back to your room, breathlessly throwing on some clothes. It’s ridiculous—

this whole situation is ridiculous. Your body still hums with nervous energy, heart beating faster than usual, like you’re waiting for something.

someone, to explode into the room at any moment.

And, honestly, who could blame you?

Eunwoo was standing there, looking at you like you were just some random, embarrassing thing he had to tolerate.

You were desperate to make him notice you, desperate to make him feel something, anything besides disgust.

But, oh my God, why does that make you want him more?

It doesn’t help that the whole house feels like it’s holding its breath. Like it’s watching you.

Is it watching me?

You feel that familiar prickle down your spine—the one that started with the shower, the one that started with the doll’s whisper.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. You need to go check on JK. The rules. The constant need to make sure the tiny demon child is in good spirits.

The things that haunt you when you get too caught up in your hormones.

You walk back down the hall, purposefully ignoring the thick tension in the air. But as soon as you reach the doll’s door, the feeling grows stronger. You’re not alone. Someone is here. Watching.

You throw open the door to JK’s room.

He’s sitting there. Waiting.

But something’s different this time.

His eyes are trained on you. But there’s an unmistakable, devious look in them. They’re sharp, almost predatory.

You shudder.

His expression remains unnervingly calm.

And then you hear it.

A whisper, like the rustling of paper, but far too clear to be ignored.

“Stay.”

You feel a chill creep up your spine.

You reach for the notebook, flipping through the pages like it can shield you from whatever the hell this is. But it’s no use. The rules are still the same:

Talk to him. Acknowledge him. Never leave him alone.

You sigh, frustrated. “Okay, okay. I’m here, JK. Don’t get all upset on me, alright? I’m just doing my job. God knows I’d rather be.. well, anywhere but here.”

A sound. Almost like a breath. Something… creepy.

“Pretty.”

You freeze. That’s the same voice from before.

There’s no way.

You turn back to the doll, staring at him, your heart pounding as you stand still in the doorframe.

“Did you… Did you just say that? JK, did you—;”

The doll’s lips curl slightly, unnaturally. It’s not a smile. It’s the kind of smile that doesn’t belong on a doll.

Something that makes your stomach turn, even as your body feels like it’s burning.

And then, like it always happens, you hear the whisper. Soft. Too soft.

“Stay.”

You shiver. This is too much. Way too much. But you can’t help it. your thoughts immediately drift back to Eunwoo. To the way he looked at you, rejected you, and still left you with that constant, consuming ache.

You glance over at the door.

You could just leave this creepy room. You could go to bed, get some sleep, maybe even call Alina, and vent about your horny delusions.

But instead, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to JK.

You sit down next to him against your better judgment and mutter to yourself.

“Maybe I am losing my mind. But, seriously, JK, what’s your deal? I don’t get it.

Why do you keep making me feel like you’re watching me… like I’m your prey? I’m just trying to survive this weird hell.”

Another low, hollow whisper.

“Stay.”

“I am staying! God, this is ridiculous,” you groan.

But the more you speak to him, the more you realize you kind of enjoy it. Being watched. Being called. There’s something twisted about it. Something primal.

Your fingers brush against his clothing, adjusting him on the chair. You swear his body moves just a little bit as you touch him. You jerk your hand back, but the damage is done.

A shiver courses through your body.

Stop. Just stop, Yn.

But it’s already too late.

The house feels too quiet, too oppressive, and now you’re being haunted by your own desires, just as much as by the doll. And maybe… maybe you’ve become obsessed with both.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps. They’re cold, calculated. They’re loud.

And they make your heartbeat spike.

You whip around to see Eunwoo standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“Oh, perfect timing,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, but your chest tightens, knowing what you’re about to say.

“Checking on your precious little monster again?” you tease.

“I mean, I’ve been doing my job, okay? You don’t have to make it so obvious that you care more about him than me.”

You stand up and make your way to Eunwoo, feeling that rush of nerves again.

Here it comes.

“Is it really that obvious? I thought you were used to rejection by now.” His voice is flat, but there’s something sharply amused about the way he says it.

You can’t help yourself.

“Why do you have to be such a dick? I’m just trying to have some fun here, Eunwoo.”

You step closer, your voice dripping with flirtation.

“Maybe you should stay with me tonight. You know, keep me company. I promise I’ll behave.”

He looks down at you, cold and unamused. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for him. You wouldn’t understand.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, even though you’ve heard them before.

But you can’t help it.

You’re still hungry for him.

Every single word out of his mouth makes you want to kiss him or shove him against the wall and make him regret his ice-cold tone.

But no. He’s not interested. And that somehow makes it worse.

You turn back toward JK, frustration rising in your chest. “See? This is what I’m dealing with. Total rejection.”

The doll’s head tilts slightly.

“Pretty.”

You lose it. “OH MY GOD, I’M GOING CRAZY.”

You storm out of the room, but as you do, you feel him watching you. Both of them. The doll.

Eunwoo.

Both of them filling your mind, and your body, and your desire.

•••

You storm down the hallway, your mind in overdrive.

Your body is still buzzing with the aftermath of Eunwoo’s rejection, the sick feeling of wanting him growing stronger by the second.

But, of course, he’s always the wall you can’t get past. You hate that. You fucking love that.

You pause by the stairs, clenching your fists.

“Okay, calm down,” you mutter to yourself. “You’re losing it. You have a doll to tend to, remember? You need to do your fucking job.”

But the more you think about it, the more you realize just how insane this all is. The doll.

The rules.

The whispers. And Eunwoo, always the frozen, terrifying man who somehow gets under your skin more than you’d like.

You push open the door to JK’s room with a dramatic sigh, ready to dive back into the madness.

But what greets you is worse than you could’ve imagined.

He’s sitting there. Still. Silent. But something’s off. His head tilts too far back. His eyes—are they—glowing?

No. It’s your mind playing tricks on you. You wish it was.

You step in, trying to act calm, but your heart is thumping in your chest.

Your whole body feels like it’s vibrating, but you can’t figure out if it’s fear or need.

“You still here, huh, JK?” you say, forcing a casualness into your voice. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d be more chill by now.”

You cross the room to adjust his position, part of the daily rules and as soon as your hands touch him, a low hum fills the room. You freeze.

A whisper, like a breath, drifts over your skin.

“Stay.”

You jerk back, your heart racing.

“Nope. Nope. This is too much. I need to get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “I need to stop… needing this.”

But, of course, you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

You sit down beside him again, clutching the edge of the chair like it’s your lifeline. You have to admit it now.

You’re losing it. Mentally, emotionally, physically, you’re spiraling.

You glance back at the door, half-expecting Eunwoo to show up again, but no. Not yet.

Your breathing is shallow. You can’t stop thinking about him. His eyes.

The way he looks at you like he knows you’re a lost cause. How you want to throw yourself at him just to see if he’ll break. To see if you’ll finally get what you want.

“Ugh, why is this so hard?” you groan, sinking into the chair. “Why do I even want him? He’s so cold. He doesn’t even care.”

You glance back at JK. “Do you see this? He doesn’t even give a damn. And here I am, stuck in this house with him. So close, yet so far away.”

You shake your head, laughing bitterly. “You know, JK, I might just be horny as hell. That’s gotta be it, right? It’s like I can’t stop thinking about it. I just want him so badly, and it’s fucking with my head.”

A laugh escapes your lips, but it’s a desperate one.

The air grows heavier. Tighter.

And then you hear it again, like the breath of something that isn’t quite alive.

“Pretty.”

Your head snaps around. The room feels too cold all of a sudden, too heavy. You swear his eyes are different now—darker, more intent.

“Oh my God,” you whisper. “No. I swear to fucking God, if you say that one more time…”

You try to stand up, but your legs feel weak. You grip the edge of the chair again, your thoughts swirling.

“Why do I feel like I’m being suffocated by this whole goddamn house? And by him?” you hiss, your voice shaking with a combination of arousal and fear.

“I should be focusing on this.. on you. But it’s like everything else is just eclipsed by Eunwoo. And I hate it. And I love it. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me!”

And then, right when you’re at your lowest, when the words escape your mouth like a broken dam, you hear it:

“Stay.”

But this time, it’s different. It’s louder. Closer.

Your stomach drops, and you immediately whip your head back to the doll.

He’s—he’s smiling now. It’s not a pleasant smile. It’s almost mocking.

“No, no. This is insane,” you whisper to yourself, backing away slowly. “I’m losing it. I am literally losing my fucking mind.”

But before you can even think about escaping, you hear the door creak behind you.

You spin around.

Eunwoo is standing there, his expression unreadable as usual.

“You’ve been here for a while. I told you to stop ignoring him.”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “I’m not ignoring him, Eunwoo. I’m just… talking to him.”

His eyes narrow. “The rules are clear. Don’t test them.”

You’re about to shoot back a snarky reply when you see him look at you.

really look at you. And then you realize. He knows. He knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You shiver, a mix of irritation and… arousal swirling in your chest. The air feels thick, heavy. You want to say something. Do something. Anything.

But all you can manage is a defeated sigh.

“I’m trying, alright?”

Eunwoo steps into the room, his gaze flicking back to JK. “Try harder.”

His cold voice chills you to the bone, and suddenly, everything feels sharper.

Like you’re under a magnifying glass.

He doesn’t need to touch you to make you feel this way. His presence is enough to twist you up inside.

But then, to your surprise, he looks back at you. “You’re not his type, you know.”

You blink, feeling like you’ve been punched in the gut. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, his face as impassive as ever. “You heard me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up— bitter, sarcastic, and tinged with something else. Something dangerous.

“You know what, Eunwoo?” you mutter, leaning in just a little closer

. “I might be his type. He just hasn’t noticed me yet. And guess what? I’m getting real tired of waiting.”

•••

You’re back in bed. Again.

Lights off. Robe off.

Wearing nothing but your thin nightgown, the one with the lace trim that always manages to ride up in all the right places.

JK is in your arms. You don’t even know when this became normal, but at this point, it feels wrong not to hold him. He’s small and warm from your body heat, tucked against your chest like a child—

or a clingy boyfriend who never blinks.

You press your cheek against his hair. He smells like cedarwood and something faintly old, like dust and memories and maybe secrets.

“You like this, don’t you?” you whisper, half-laughing. “Being the little spoon.”

Your fingers brush over the stiff cotton of his shirt, smoothing it out. Your other hand rests low on his back, like you’re cradling something precious.

Your thigh hikes up a little. You press closer. JK’s head settles just above your cleavage, and you swear—swear—he fits there perfectly.

God, this is so stupid.

You groan, curling around him more. “Look at me. Cuddling a doll. Like a pathetic little Victorian ghost bride who’s been left at the altar.”

You close your eyes. It’s stupid. This is stupid.

But it feels good. Safe.

Pretty.

The word floats through your mind like a memory—but you’re not even sure you heard it. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you just wanted it so badly you made it up.

And then—

A click.

Faint. Mechanical.

You freeze.

It’s so quiet, you could almost convince yourself it was nothing.

But it wasn’t.

Somewhere inside the doll something whirred.

You pull back, heart hammering.

JK’s face is the same. That blank smile. Those lifeless eyes.

Except… They’re not lifeless, are they?

Not right now.

You feel them. Watching.

Through him.

You can feel the burn of being seen too closely, too intently. Like someone just stared right through your nightgown.

Memorized the curve of your thighs, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught when you shifted and the lace brushed your skin.

You stare into his eyes.

He stares back.

The room is pitch black except for the moonlight slicing in through the curtains, but suddenly you feel naked.

Violated.

Desired.

Not by the doll.

By someone else.

Someone on the other side.

The realization hits you like ice in your veins.

You’re being watched.

Right now.

Your arms drop. You throw back the covers and scramble away from the bed, chest heaving, nightgown slipping dangerously off one shoulder as you stare down at JK.

What the actual fuck.

You should scream. Run. Call someone.

But instead, you’re standing there, chest rising and falling, heart in your throat, wet between your legs because…

Because being watched felt good.

You slap your hands over your face.

“I need help.”

Behind you, from the bed—

“Pretty.”

Soft. Mechanical. Almost fond.

You whirl around.

JK hasn’t moved.

But you swear— swear his head is tilted just a little more than before. Like he’s listening.

Like he’s smiling.

Like he knows you liked it.

 •••

You’re holding me again.

So fucking sweet. Like I deserve your kindness. Like I’m not watching you from the shadows. 

 Mouth dry, cock hard, whispering shit no one should hear.

God. You don’t even know.

“You’re such a fucking needy whore.”

You’re pressing your tits to that doll like it’s yours. Like you’re the one comforting me.

Like I need comfort.

I want to fucking ruin you.

I lean forward. Press my face to the screen like it’ll bring me closer. I watch your chest rise and fall as you breathe in that soft, dazed way.

Eyes fluttering. Whispering to JK like he’s your little bedtime secret.

“He’s so cold,” you say to him, pouting. “At least you think I’m pretty.”

I groan.

I said that.

I whispered that.

You think it’s the doll. But it’s me.

I can see the way your lips tug into a soft smile, like you’re starting to believe it. Like I’m not just in the walls—I’m in your head.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” you murmur.

Only for me, baby.

I press my forehead against the cold cement, hand moving down slowly, lazily, like I’ve got all night.

My voice stays low. Just for you. Just loud enough that no one else could ever hear.

“Touch yourself,” I whisper, watching the image of your bare thigh shift on the screen. “Right now. Do it. Pretend it’s for you, baby. Pretend it’s about Eunwoo.”

My laugh comes sharp and bitter.

“He won’t even look at you.”

You sigh. Roll to your side, clutching the doll to your chest like it’s a lifeline. You whisper something I can’t hear. Maybe it’s his name. Maybe it’s mine.

Either way, I feel it like a punch to the stomach.

“I’d fuck you so good, you’d never say his name again,” I hiss. “You wouldn’t even remember what cold feels like.”

I can’t help it. My hand moves faster.

“You’d cry for me.”

Your breath catches. Your legs twitch like your body’s reacting without permission. My blood runs hot.

“You’d beg,” I say. “God, you’d beg.”

I lick my lips.

“‘Please, Jungkook.’” I mimic your voice with a low, breathy whimper. “‘Please touch me, please make it stop, I need it so bad—’”

My head knocks back against the wall. I imagine your mouth. Your throat. Your wrists pinned down.

“Fucking say my name,” I growl to the screen. “Say it. Say it like you said it in your sleep last night.”

Because you did.

I heard you.

You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.

And still? you curl tighter around that doll like you want to keep it warm. Like you want me close. Like you’re inviting me in.

You press your lips to its head and whisper, “Goodnight, JK.”

I shudder.

“Say goodnight to me, baby,” I whisper back, lips nearly brushing the wall. “Say it like you know I’m listening.”

You don’t.

But you will.

Soon.

You’ll learn how to say my name properly.

You’ll say it like it’s the only word you’ve ever known.