#DO NOT TAG AS FEET LOLLL

[4ddi3addie2005]

I LOVE KINITOPET

I love drawing Kinito and drawing his grippers!! He built like a baby heron.

If I was still possessed and depressed (alliteration 😼) I’d have the biggest fattest crush on him!!

Ohhh u wanna dox me so bad

[soombee]

merry christmas , please don’t call — sim jake ⋆⁺₊❅⋆

pairing ; sim jake (en-) x reader (s.her pronouns)

warnings / genre ; hurt no comfort , alcohol consumption (don’t do this!!!) , jake being a real man and yearning , idol smau , mentions of harm (metaphorical) , lmk if more!

word count ; ~8600 (8.6k words)

publish date ; dec 4, 2024

sypnosis, jake sim still aches for the love he let go, haunted by memories of you in every snowfall—well more like every day he breathes. though your breakup was for the best, he can’t stop yearning in silence, whispering love letters you’ll never hear.

perm tag list (open) ! @voikiraz (tysmily)

— inspired by “merry christmas, please don’t call” by bleachers ^^

an ; hai guys Sorry for this LOLLL i still love u i promise… but no this actually hurt me to write.. sorry for thr weak angst tho I HATE angst so much plz #ILoveComfort ily so much jake i would never leave u…. (But actually plz leave if your s/o acts likw this or never follows their words w actions!! a liar will always tell and never act!!) AND PLS DO NOT GET BACK W UR EX (if they hurt you) (if they didn’t do anything and they hit u up RUN BACK HOME!!!! IJBOL) (only if u want to ofc) (do not cheat) (never ever be like jake in this fic #istillloveyou #imsorry.) anyqays. Hope this fic isn’t too boring, enjoyyy!!! ☺️☺️

the snow fell in soft, silent sheets, muffling the world and its noise. the streets glittered under the warm glow of streetlights but jake felt none of the holiday cheer radiating around him. his feet moved on autopilot, crunching through the fresh layer of snow as he headed toward the cafe—the café

he hated himself for coming here. he’d avoided this place for months, knowing full well it was a minefield of memories—every corner of the space filled with you. but tonight, something had drawn him back. maybe it was the first snow, or maybe it was the loneliness creeping in, heightened by the christmas spirit

he pushed the door open, the warm air inside hitting him like a bittersweet embrace. the smell of fresh coffee and gingerbread filled his senses, and for a moment, he could almost pretend nothing had changed

Almost.

jake’s eyes automatically scanned the room, even though he knew you wouldn’t be there. you were probably across town, maybe even across the country, living your new life—the one you’d both agreed you needed. but that didn’t stop his heart from aching as he slid into the corner booth, the one you’d always claimed as yours, the one where you two had met.

the waitress came by, and he ordered black coffee. no frills, no sweetness. just black and bitter, like the ache in his chest that refused to fade

he sat back, letting his gaze drift to the window. outside, the snow swirled under the streetlights, mesmerizing in its quiet beauty. but jake wasn’t thinking about the snow. he was thinking about you.

he thought about how your hands used to curl around your own mug, fingers perpetually cold until he’d wrap his own around them, how he’d dance you in the dim light of the night and how you looked as beautiful as ever. he thought about the way your nose would scrunch when he teased you, or how your laughter used to fill this space, louder and brighter than any christmas song playing in the background

God, he missed that laugh

he missed everything about you. the way you’d insist on splitting a cinnamon roll even though you’d end up eating most of it. the way you’d lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you people-watched through the frosted glass. he even missed the arguments—the stupid, petty fights about nothing that always ended with you curled into his side, whispering soft apologies against his neck

jake ran a hand through his hair, biting down hard on his bottom lip. he hated how vivid the memories were, how they clawed at him even now, months after you’d walked away

no, that wasn’t fair. you hadn’t just walked away—you’d made the decision together. it had been mutual, logical. you’d both realized you were heading in different directions, that clinging to each other was only holding you back. you’d promised to let each other go, to grow, to heal

but jake wasn’t sure he’d healed at all

if anything, he felt stuck. he went through the motions—practice, performances, interviews, photoshoots. smiling for the cameras, playing the part. but behind closed doors, it was you he thought about when the silence crept in. It was your voice he longed to hear when he woke up in the middle of the night, reaching for someone who wasn’t there

the coffee arrived, and he wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into his frozen fingers. he stared at the black liquid, the bitter aroma filling his lungs. he didn’t even like black coffee, not at all. you used to tease him about it, saying it didn’t suit his personality

“sim jaeyun, a golden retriever in human form, drinking something so bitter? you’d have to kill me to make me believe it,” you’d said with a laugh, stealing a sip from his cup before grimacing dramatically, “yuck, this is nasty!!!”

jake clenched his jaw, the ghost of your laughter ringing in his ears. he couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught himself replaying your voice in his head, as if the sound of it could bring you closer. it never worked, of course. the space between you had only grown more distant, the threads of your shared life unraveling into nothing but silly little memories

he stared out the window, the snow piling higher on the sidewalks. couples walked by, their faces illuminated by the golden glow of christmas lights. one of them reminded him of you—a girl tugging at her boyfriend’s scarf, laughing as he rolled his eyes and let her adjust it for him. it was the kind of small, meaningless moment he used to share with you

but now, jake didn’t have anyone adjusting his scarf. he barely wore one at all, the cold biting at his skin a welcome distraction from the pounding aches in his chest

his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to the present. he pulled it out hesitantly, the screen lighting up with a notification. it wasn’t you—of course it wasn’t. it was just a message from jay, asking if he wanted to join the group for dinner later. jake didn’t reply. he couldn’t bring himself to face anyone tonight, not when the weight of you was still pressing down on him so heavily

his thumb hovered over your contact instead, the familiar name glaring back at him like a taunt. he shouldn’t. he couldn’t. you’d made it clear when you parted ways: no calls, no texts, no nothings. not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much. staying in each other’s lives would have been too painful, a constant reminder of what you had both lost

but God, did he want to hear your voice.

“merry christmas, please don’t call,” he muttered under his breath, echoing the line from the song that had been haunting him all night. he set the phone face down on the table, resisting the urge to do something he’d later regret

the truth was, he didn’t even know what he’d say if you picked up. would he tell you he missed you? that he still kept the scarf you left at his apartment, buried in the back of his closet because he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out? that every time he heard your favorite song, he had to leave the room because it made his chest tighten with longing?

jake laughed bitterly, shaking his head. none of it would matter. you were gone, and no amount of yearning could bring you back

the café was quieter now, the other customers leaving as the evening wore on. jake drained the last of his coffee, the bitterness lingering on his tongue. he left a few bills on the table and stood, his legs feeling heavier than they should

outside, the snow was laying thicker, coating the world in white. it was beautiful, he supposed, but it only made the city feel emptier

as he walked down the street, the cold seeped through his coat, but he didn’t care. his thoughts were stuck on you, on what could have been if things had been different. if he’d fought harder. if you’d stayed.

but life wasn’t “the notebook,” there were no miracles waiting to reunite you. the was only the cold, and the loneliness, and the silence

jake reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone again. his thumb hovered over your name one last time before he let out a shaky breath and put it back in his pocket

“merry christmas,” he whispered to the empty street. “i hope you’re happy.”

with that, he kept walking, his figure disappearing into the snowfall, the quiet yearning in his heart a burden he’d carry alone—do you still think of me?

flashback — beginning of the end

his absence wasn’t sudden—it never was. it began to stretch further and further. at first, you’d see him four or five days a week, then three. then there were weeks when you could count the hours he was home on one hand

you adjusted, at least outwardly. you stopped waiting up for him, stopped asking if he’d be home for dinner. every time you thought to reach out, his familiar excuses echoed in your mind:

jakey jakey: sorry baby, new album soon. promise i’ll make it up to you, i love you!

but his words felt emptier with every passing week.

sometimes, you’d sit on the couch with your phone in your hand, staring at his contact name and wondering if it was worth calling. would he even pick up? if he did, what would you say?

i miss you.

i can’t keep doing this.

come home.

instead, you swallowed your words and let the silence stretch on.

to cope, you tried to fill the spaces he left behind

you threw yourself into work, taking on extra projects to keep your mind busy. you reconnected with old friends, meeting up for coffee or weekend brunches that helped ease the ache, even if only for a little while. you even had time to travel to australia to visit your in-laws.

but no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, the loneliness always crept back in. it lingered in the empty apartment, in the untouched leftovers in the fridge, in the cold side of the bed where jake used to sleep.

your friends noticed, too.

“you okay?” one of them asked over lunch one day

you forced a smile, “mhm, just busy, yk?”

“have you seen Jake lately?”

the question hit harder than you expected. You hesitated before answering,

“not as much as I’d like.”

they exchanged a look, one you couldn’t quite decipher, but they didn’t press further

when you got home that evening, you sat in the quiet and wondered if this was your life now: always waiting, always wondering, always pretending everything was fine

you told yourself it was temporary.

jake had always been ambitious—relentlessly so—and you admired that about him. he’d fought days and nights of exhaustion to get to where he was, pouring his blood, sweat, and tears into a career that demanded everything and more from him

you had to understand that.

when he missed date night for a sudden meeting, you reminded yourself of how hard he worked to provide for a future you both dreamed about. you pictured the life he talked about during quiet nights: a cozy home, maybe with the children you two had planned on having, vacations to places you’d only seen in magazines. this was just a temporary sacrifice, you told yourself. he was doing it for you. for both of you.

on your anniversary, when he texted to say he was stuck at the building again, you tried not to let the hurt show. you prepared the dinner anyway—all of his favorite meals—lighting the candles and sitting at the table long after the food had gone cold

when he finally called, voice strained and full of apologies, you smiled through the disappointment,

“haha it’s okay, my love. i know you’re busy.”

“next time,” he promised, “i’ll make it up to you.”

you wanted to believe him.

and when the missed dinners and canceled plans piled up, you clung to the hope that all of it—the sacrifices, the empty nights, the growing distance—was worth it, he’s a rising star!

he’s doing this for us, you repeated like a mantra, even as the cracks in your heart grew deeper. stop being so selfish, yn. he loves you, he’s doing this for us.

but as the months passed, those words began to feel like a lie and you wondered how much more of yourself you could give before there was nothing left.

your birthday came — jake promised to surprise you. everything should have been perfect.

he had planned everything down to the smallest detail. he’d listened when you talked about how much you missed those intimate dinners, the quiet moments when time seemed to slow. he remembered every little thing you liked and disliked, and he had worked tirelessly to make this birthday different—to make up for the forgotten anniversaries, the unspoken words, the promises made in the heat of passion and quickly broken in the cold rush of reality.

a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. a small, decadent cake with the kind of frosting you loved, not too sweet but perfectly balanced. a handwritten letter, each word carefully chosen to remind you of all the reasons why he loves you, of all the reasons why you had been the light in his life for so long, of all the words he could not say to you.

but none of it happened the way Jake had envisioned..

you sat on your couch, hands gripping the edges of your phone, staring at the screen as the minutes ticked by. 5:30 pm—the time you had agreed upon. that was when you expected him to arrive. that promised. promised it would be different this time but as the hands of the clock seemed to mock you, you knew deep down that this night was going to be just like every other—every single one of the nights you had spent waiting for him.

the dinner you’d prepared, with love and care, now sat on the table, cold and untouched. the candles you had lit to set the mood flickered softly in the silence of the room, their light casting long shadows on the walls.

you sent another message,

“baby, where are you?”

the response came minutes later.

“running behind, something came up at the studio. be there soon, i promise lovely.”

you stared at the screen, your heart sinking. ‘be there soon..’ you had heard that so many times, but it had never meant anything. he had always said the same thing, always claimed he was on his way, and yet it felt like you were always the one who waited. always the one left behind

you placed your phone on the table, willing yourself not to cry. but it wasn’t about the tears anymore. it was the disappointment. the frustration. the pain that had built up over weeks, months even, as his promises piled up like empty words

an hour passed. another message.

“so sorry, baby. still at the studio. it’s running late.”

at the studio. Again.

it had been weeks since you had gone out to dinner together without something getting in the way. his job, his career, his ambitions—they always took precedence. you understood that, you told yourself. you’d been patient, supportive, waiting quietly for him to balance things out, to see you the way you needed to be seen.

but now? now, you were beginning to wonder if he even saw you anymore, if he even thought about you

when the door finally opened, it felt like the moment you’d been waiting for all night was anticlimactic

jake stepped in, his coat dripping water onto the floor, his face twisted with guilt and exhaustion. his eyes were wide with that apologetic look, but it wasn’t enough. not anymore. the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands was a sad excuse—wilting, pale, as if the gesture itself had already been rotten

“i’m so sorry i’m late baby,” he began, the words rushed as if they were rehearsed,“there was this thing at the studio, and—”

you couldn’t take it anymore

“do you even care?” the words came out harsher than you expected, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion

jake froze

you could see the way his breath hitched, the way his hands tightened around the flowers as if they were the only thing grounding him to the present moment—even though the thorns from its stems found its way into his skin. he looked so lost. so helpless.

his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. you could see the panic in his eyes—the kind of panic that came from knowing he had already failed. but still, he reached for you, as if that would solve everything. as if the gesture alone could erase the months of distance between you two

but you weren’t willing to forgive him, not this time. not when your heart ached too much for you to pretend that things were okay anymore

“are you serious?” you laughed, but it wasn’t funny. it was bitter,

“every time i think it’s getting better, you pull this shit. i’m always waiting. always. and you’re never here. NEVER present. You’re just like my fucking dad, jake.”

his face paled, his eyes flickering to the table where the cold meal sat untouched, the cake you had baked slowly sinking into itself, the flickering candles an eerie reminder of how much time had passed,

“i swear i didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, but the words felt hollow, like they were coming from a place where regret was no longer enough to fix anything, “i swear i was going to—”

“it’s always your words and never your actions. what? you thought i would be okay with this?” your voice broke then, the weight of your frustration cracking through the veneer of control you had been holding onto all evening,

“that I would just understand? you’ve been promising me for weeks, jake. weeks! and all you do is disappoint me. i don’t even know who i’m waiting for anymore”

his face twisted with guilt. he wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, to apologize until it made everything better, to reassure you that he was still the jake that you fell for, but he knew he couldn’t. he knew the distance between you wasn’t something he could close with a hug or a few empty words.

“i love you,” he said quietly, his voice full of desperation, as though that would be enough

you flinched at the words, like a punch to the gut. you love him too, but love didn’t fix this. love didn’t heal the broken parts of you that had cracked under the weight of his absence.

you shook your head. “i used to believe you. i really did.”

jake’s eyes watered at your words, his throat tightening as if he was on the verge of breaking down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to comfort him anymore. not when you were drowning in your own hurt, drowning in a flood caused by him

“you don’t even know how much this hurts,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “i’ve been waiting for so long, and all you ever do is show up when it’s too late.”

the silence between you was suffocating, the air thick with things unsaid, feelings that had been buried too deep for too long. jake opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand to stop him

“jake please,” you said softly, each word feeling like a finality you had been avoiding for months. “i can’t do this anymore.”

he staggered back, as if you had slapped him, the weight of your words landing like a punch to his chest. he opened his mouth to say something, but it was clear that nothing could undo what had been done

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he murmured

but you couldn’t hear him. not anymore. the door was closing, slowly but surely, and he was too late to stop it

you turned your back to him, taking deep breaths, fighting to keep your composure. you couldn’t stay in this room with him any longer. not when everything had become a reminder of his neglect. not when the warmth you had once shared had been replaced by this suffocating cold

“please…just go,” you said, voice breaking as you finally let the tears fall

he hesitated, as if waiting for you to change your mind. but when you didn’t, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in your heart

and in the stillness of your apartment, you realized you were alone.

hours later, after he had left, you sat in the quiet of the dark apartment, the remnants of your birthday still scattered around you—half-eaten food, the stale cake, the wilted flowers. you had always been told that love was supposed to feel like home, but all you felt now was the emptiness of it

the day it finally ended.. oh it was heartbreaking.

it was late, nearing three am, when jake arrived at the apartment. you were laying down on the couch, hands curled beneath your head, waiting patiently in the cold. the sound of his keys jingling in the door used to fill you with relief, but tonight it only brought dread of whats to come next

jake stepped inside, his shoulders slumped, dark circles beneath his eyes. he paused when he saw you drifting to sleep, your face lit only by the dim glow of a nearby lamp

“hi baby, why are you still up?” he asked, his voice tentative, he kisses your head

“i needed to talk to you,” you said, sitting upc keeping your voice steady—though your chest felt like it was already caving in.

he kicked off his shoes, setting down his bag. “can it wait? it’s been a long day—”

“no.”

that one word was enough to stop him in his tracks. he looked at you properly then, his brows furrowing as he took in the tense set of your shoulders, the tight grip you had on your thigh.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, though you both already knew the answer

you took a deep breath, your throat tight, “jake, we can’t keep doing this.”

he froze, his hands hovering over the back of his head, “..doing what?”

“this,” you said, motioning to the space between you. “pretending that everything’s okay. pretending that we’re okay.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to argue against the idea. but then his shoulders sagged, and he sat down across beside you, his movements slow and deliberate

“i know i’ve been distant,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, “but i swear i’m trying to get everything done as fast as possible, love.”

you shook your head, tears already pooling in your eyes, “you’ve been saying that for months, yun. and i’ve been so. patient. i’ve been waiting for you to come home, to show up, to prove that we still mean something to you. but you never do.”

“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice breaking, “you know how hard they’ve been making me work. you know how much this career means to me.”

“and what about me?” you shot back, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “what about us? don’t we mean anything to you anymore?”

his silence was deafening.

“jake,” you continued, your voice trembling, “i’ve been here since the beginning, holding on, hoping things would get better. but they’re not. and i don’t think they ever will.”

his head dropped into his hands, and for the first time, you saw him break

“please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “please don’t do this.” he held your face with grace, not wanting to hurt you even more

your heart shattered at the sound of his desperation and the look of defeat on his face, oh your poor baby had tears in his eyes. but you forced yourself to stay strong, “i don’t want this either. but i can’t keep holding on to someone who’s never here. i can’t keep chasing for someone who won’t wait for me.”

he looked away then, his eyes red and glossy. “you’re everything to me. don’t you see that? everything i’m doing—it’s for our future. i want to give you everything you want in life.”

“but what’s the point of a future,” you said, your voice heavy with sorrow, “if we can’t even make it through the present, jake?”

you stood up after wiping his tears, “i love you jake but i’m hurting, i can’t stay with someone who’s never there to comfort me.”

and with that, you disappeared into the depths of your shared room.

the next morning, jake was gone before you woke up—7:39 am, he had only slept for 4 hours..? he left a note on the kitchen counter, scrawled in his messy handwriting:

“I’m sorry.”

that was it. no explanation, no promises to try harder. just two words that felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

you couldn’t take it anymore.. you couldn’t take his empty words and promises anymore.

by the time he came back that evening, the apartment was empty. your clothes were gone, your toothbrush missing from its place by his. you didn’t leave a note—what was there left to say?

jake sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the now-bare dresser where your framed photo once stood. his phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t bother to check it. he already knew it wasn’t you, why would it be you?

he couldn’t bare the emptiness of the space.

that night, he called his mother. the moment her face appeared on the screen, her warm smile faltered at the sight of him.

“jake? what’s wrong, mom’s sweetie?”

and that was all it took. his facade crumbled, and the tears came before he could even speak

“she’s gone, mom,” he choked out, his voice barely audible

his mother’s face softened with concern, “oh, baby…”

“i tried,” he continued, his words tumbling over one another. “i tried to balance everything—to make her happy, to make this work, to keep my career. but i couldn’t. i couldn’t give her what she needed.

“did you talk to her?” his mother asked gently

jake shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “what could I say? that i’m sorry? that i’ll do better? i’ve said those things a hundred times, and it was never enough.”

his mother’s face flickered with sadness, her heart aching for her son. she wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms, to hold him the way she had when he was little and scraped his knees on the playground but she couldn’t reach him through the screen.

“jaeyun,” she said gently, “you’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders. you’ve always worked so hard—for your career, for the people you love. but sometimes, love isn’t about how hard you try. it’s about being there and it sounds like that’s what dear yn needed most.”

“i know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i know, but i couldn’t.. i thought i was doing the right thing but now she’s gone and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know if I can fix it—“

his mother let out a soft sigh, her expression pained. “sweetie, listen to me. it’s okay to grieve, to feel like you’ve failed. but you can’t carry this alone. you need to let yourself feel it, even if it hurts. you need to take time for yourself, for your heart”

jake nodded weakly but his chest ached with the knowledge that time wouldn’t bring you back,

“i miss her,” he admitted, his voice breaking again, just like his prepubescent days, “i miss her so much, mom. i don’t know how to do this without her”

“you’re stronger than you think,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with love, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do it all on your own. lwan on the people who care about you—your members, your friends. and if you ever need mom, i’m here.”

those words should have comforted him, but they only made him feel the distance more acutely. she wasn’t in korea, she was thousands of kilometers away, he couldn’t just drive over to see her, to collapse into her arms and let her stroke his hair the way she used to when he got scared of thunder striking,

“i wish i could be there,” he said, his voice trembling, “i wish i could just… come home and stay there forever.”

his mother’s expression softened, tears shining in her eyes. “i wish you could, too. but always remember why you moved back to korea, to achieve your dreams.. but still, i’m always with you, jaeyun. always.”

it wasn’t enough—not really. he needed her here, needed to feel her arms around him, needed her to tell him everything would be okay even if it felt like his entire world was crumbling but he nodded anyway. he agreed, knowing there was nothing else to say, nothing else could be said

“thank you, mom,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from all the recordings, melt downs, dehydration.

“take care of yourself, sweetheart,” she replied, “don’t forget that i love you always.”

“i love you, too,” Jake said, his voice breaking again as he ended the call, the screen going dark

jake stared at his reflection in the blank screen for a long moment, his face blotchy and tear-streaked, eyes red and swollen. he dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, burying his face in his hands as another wave of grief hit him—you were gone.

the comfort he sought was so close yet unreachable. his mother’s words lingered in his mind, warm and full of love, but they couldn’t bridge the thousands of miles between them. he felt like a child again, crying out for someone to make the pain stop, but no one could.

he sank further into the couch, the silence of the apartment pressing down on him. it was unbearable. everywhere he looked, there were memories of you—the book you’d left on the coffee table, your favorite mug still sitting in the cupboard, the blanket on the couch you always used when you curled up to watch movies together..

he thought of how you used to hum absentmindedly in the kitchen, how you’d lean against the counter and laugh at his attempts to help, how he’d always hug you from behind while you were cooking. he thought of the way you’d smile at him, soft and full of love, as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world,

but now, you were gone.

he clutched the throw pillow to his chest, as if holding onto it could somehow bring you back. he wanted to scream, to break something, to do anything that might ease the ache in his chest but all he could do was sit there and drown in his own regret

jake had always prided himself on being strong, on enduring whatever life threw at him, but this? this was different. this was the kind of pain that seeped into every corner of his being, leaving him hollow and exhausted.

he wanted to call you, to beg for another chance, to promise he’d do better. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. you’d tried—both of you had—and it still hadn’t been enough.

so he sat there, alone, in the dark, heart aching for a love he could no longer hold onto.

—

jake spent the next few weeks wandering through his days in a haze. the apartment felt impossibly quiet without you there, your absence a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

he drowned himself with work, staying late at the studio until exhaustion forced him to stop. although no matter how busy he kept himself, the emptiness remained

some nights, he found himself sitting by the window, clutching the small, crumpled note you’d once written to him: “i’ll never stop loving you, i will love you until we both become food for soil!!”

but now, he wasn’t yours to love anymore.

and that realization hurt more than anything else.

days without you blurred into weeks, and the weeks into months. but for your ex lover, time didn’t heal—it only deepened the wound, pressing onto it with a sharper blade. you were everywhere, not just in the apartment you’d once shared but in the life you continued living without him.

each of your milestones became a ghost that haunted him, milestones he had once imagined celebrating by your side. now, they were moments he had to watch from afar, each one a bittersweet mix of pride and pain, leaving him both in awe of your resilience and hollowed by his absence from your joy.

your birthday. don’t even get jake started on your birthday.

he had always loved your birthdays—well, before the idol like exhausted him. he used to make them extravagant, treating the day like a sacred holiday meant for only the two of you. he remembered how your eyes lit up at the smallest details—a handwritten note tucked under your pillow, a trail of flower petals from your once-shared bedroom all the way to the kitchen table, breakfast already made for you, the way he’d stay up until midnight just to be the first to wish you everything you’ve been working towards

but this year was different.

jake found out about your celebration through a tagged photo on social media. you were at a cozy rooftop party surrounded by your beloved friends, the city skyline twinkling in the background. yog were smiling, radiant as ever, holding a cupcake with a single swirly candle

he couldn’t stop staring at the screen, fingers frozen over his phone as he scrolled through the pictures. he noticed how your smile was the same one he used to know—bright, genuine—but there was something missing. or maybe it was just him, searching for a version of you that didn’t exist anymore, searching for a hint of sadness in you.

he typed a message, the words “happy birthday, I hope you’re doing well” sitting in the text box. but before he could press send, his own voice echoed in his mind, bitter and sharp:

happy birthday. please don’t call.

his chest tightened as he deleted the message. you didn’t need him ruining your special day. he put the phone down, but the images of you celebrating stayed in his mind, vivid and unrelenting. for the rest of the night, he sat at the piano, fingers moving across the keys as he tried to compose something—anything—to capture the ache in his chest but all that his fingers memorized were the chords of your favorite song.

by morning, the only words he had written were:

i love you. i’m sorry.

a few months later — one year after your break up.

jake knew today was special. he didn’t need to see pictures to know you’d graduated. he remembered the date from when you used to talk about it, lying next to him in bed, your voice filled with hope and determination,

“i can’t wait for you to see me walk across that stage with aaaalll my chords, sashes, and medals,” you’d said, your head resting on his chest. “i’ll probably trip, though..”

he’d laugh, kissing the top of your head,

“i’ll catch you if you do”

the thought twisted in his chest now, bitter and hollow. he wasn’t there to catch you—not at your ceremony, not in your life. he wondered if someone else had stepped into that role.. no. nevermind. that thought hurt to imagine.. it hurt a little too much.

he found himself scrolling through old photos on his phone, landing on one of you in his hoodie, hair messy, glasses perched on your nose as you furiously typed away at your laptop. you were studying for finals, the faintest scowl on your lips

“i don’t know why i’m doing this,” you’d muttered, frustrated

“because you’re amazing,” jake had replied without hesitation, “and you’re gonna be the best (profession of choice) out there”

now, he stared at the picture until his vision blurred. you had achieved your dream after years of education, just like you always said you would. he wanted to tell you how proud he was, how he’d always believed in you, how he’d always be your biggest fan.

but all he could whisper into the silence was:

“congratulations. please don’t call.”

“i’m proud of you. please don’t call.”

—

it was easy for you to find a starting job in your career dud to your impressive statistics.

when jake saw the announcement, it was like a punch to the gut. someone had shared your linkedin update—a smiling picture of you holding a nameplate for your new job. the caption was simple, professional, but it felt like a dagger:

“i’m officially licensed hehe”

the brunette stared at the photo for what felt like hours, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. he was proud of you—of course he was. he’d always known how capable and brilliant you were, but the pride was laced with a sharp, unbearable ache.

he couldn’t stop the flood of memories—thinking about the nights you spent on his couch, head buried in job applications, chewing on the end of your pen as you stressed over every word. he remembered your hopeful smile when you got that first interview call and how you’d hugged him so tight he could barely breathe when you told him the good news.

jake used to imagine this moment—your first big girl job, your first step into the career you’d worked so hard for. but in every version of that memory, he was there to celebrate with you. he’d pictured himself popping champagne in your apartment, pulling you into a kiss as he told you how proud he was.

instead, he sat in his empty apartment, staring at a screen. the message he wanted to send formed in his mind: i always knew you’d get there, my love. you deserve this.

but then, like a reflex, the bitter echo followed:

please don’t call.

his phone buzzed with a notification—another congratulations for you from a mutual friend. He muted the conversation. it wasn’t jealousy; it was the sinking realization that the version of your future he’d envisioned, where he stood beside you every step of the way, was gone.

later that night, jake sat down, pen and paper in hand, writing absentmindedly. mind soft, full of you and how proud he was:

“congratulations on your first job.

i knew you’d get there.

i knew you’d shine.

but please don’t call.

i’m proud of you.

please don’t call.”

his fingers cracked on the last line, and he put the pen down, pressing his palms into his eyes to stop the tears.

as he stopped writing, he decided to pick up his guitar, the melody so melancholic and raw.

the lyrics he’d written—unfinished and full of longing—stayed with him. you slipped into his music, weaving through the melodies he created, even when he didn’t mean for them to. the studio became both a sanctuary and a battlefield.

his bandmates noticed the shift. he was quieter during rehearsals, distracted during dance practices, often lost in thought. when he sang, his voice carried a weight it hadn’t before—a deep sadness that even they couldn’t ignore.

one night, alone in the studio, jake finally recorded a song. the verses described every aspect of yours he’d missed: your kindness, thoughtfulness, your gentle face, your everything. each line was a love letter wrapped in pain, a confession he could never send.

by the end of the recording, his voice broke completely. the final line lingered in the empty room, his whisper barely audible:

“one ticket out of your heavy gaze

I want one ticket off of your carousel

I want one ticket out of your heavy gaze

I want one ticket off of your carousel”

jake didn’t know if the song would ever see the light of day. it wasn’t meant for anyone else but himself. it was his way of holding onto whatever he had left of you, even as the world forced him to let go.

and yet, as he sat in the silent studio, he couldn’t help but wish—just once—that you would listen to his song anyway.

years later — he hasn’t heard from you in a while, maybe he was finally healing after years of hurt..?

** ding..!!

oh! oh? ….oh.

“yes to forever!!” your instagram post captioned

it was simple—just a picture of your hand intertwined with someone else’s, a gleaming ring on your finger

the world seemed to tilt as he stared at the photo. his vision blurred, the edges of the screen fading into a dull haze. for a moment, he thought it was a joke, a misunderstanding, or maybe just a bad dream!! he rubs his eyes, no. no no no—there it was, still clear and undeniable, he could feel every pinch his fingers inflicted

jake didn’t breathe. he couldn’t.

he clutched his phone tighter, as though crushing the image into oblivion would erase this event. but the picture stayed, unwavering, a testament to the reality he’d spent years dreading. you were moving on..?

he had flashbacks of the future he’d once imagined.

there had been a time when jake couldn’t picture his life without you. you’d once lain together under a canopy of stars and fireflies, his hand in yours, as you talked about the future—two kids, one pet, and a happy life with each other.

“what kind of wedding do you want?” he had asked, his voice soft and full of promise

you had laughed, rolling onto your side to face him. “something small and intimate. just our close friends and family. i don’t need anything big as long as i’m with you”

he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “i’ll make it perfect.”

he had imagined that day so vividly. you in white, walking toward him, the room filled with music he had handwritten just for you. he’d imagined the vows he’d whisper, promises he’d spend a lifetime keeping. and he’d imagined forever with you—a future where he could hold your hand until the very end

now, that future belonged to someone else. someone deserving of your love.

he didn’t want to know when your wedding day was set. no, he didn’t want to know anything about you at all. but fate had a cruel sense of humor. he overheard it in passing from a mutual friend, who mentioned it like it was just another piece of small talk.

the day arrived like a storm, unrelenting and heavy. jake woke up early, his chest tight and his mind racing. every hour felt like a countdown, each second pulling him closer to the inevitable

by noon, he was in the studio, in meetings, in talkshows trying to drown his thoughts in work. but even his industry betrayed him. everything reminded him of you, of the songs you used to hum while he played, of the melodies you inspired, of talkshows you’d talk about

he couldn’t escape you.

as the evening rolled around, jake found himself sitting on the floor of his apartment, a glass of liquor in hand. his phone lay beside him, the screen dark, but he couldn’t stop staring at it. he wondered what you were doing at that exact moment.

were you walking down the aisle? were you kissing his lips? were you happy?

jake’s throat tightened as he imagined it—the soft rustle of fabric as you stepped forward, the way your smile must have lit up the room. he pictured your hands trembling slightly as they always did when you were nervous, and then he imagined someone else holding those hands steady

someone who wasn’t him.

the thought sent a sharp ache through his chest. he tried to take another sip of whiskey but his hand shook so badly that the liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass. setting it down, he pressed his palms into his eyes, as if that could stop the flood of images rushing through his mind.

he could almost hear your laugh, soft and bright, as you said I do. as you committed the rest of your life with a random guy.

jake leaned back against the wall, head tilted toward the ceiling. he’d let his mind drift to the promises he once rehearsed in secret, words he thought he’d say to you on your wedding day.

“i promise to never let you doubt how much i love you. i promise to be your biggest supporter, your greatest comfort, your forever.”

he’d practiced them countless times, sometimes whispering them into your ears as you drowned in the quiet night, other times writing them out in notebooks he still couldn’t bear to throw away

but those promises never left his lips. instead, someone else had taken the vows that should have been his. someone else got to stand where he always thought he’d be,

his memories collided.

the hours dragged on, and jake was helpless to stop himself from scrolling through every post, every picture that filtered onto his feed. he saw the smiling faces of your friends, the decorations you’d once described as your dream aesthetic, and then, finally, he saw you

you were breathtaking, just as he’d always imagined. the way your dress flowed around you, the soft light catching on your features—it was like a snapshot from his dreams. only now, the man beside you wasn’t him.

jake didn’t realize he was crying until a tear splashed onto his phone screen. he swiped it away angrily, but the flood wouldn’t stop. his breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest heaving under the weight of his grief,

he tried to rationalize it. he told himself this was for the best, that you deserved happiness—even if it wasn’t with him but the logic couldn’t touch the deep, raw ache in his heart.

he seeked so much comfort.

jake reached for his phone and dialed his mother. it rang twice before her familiar voice answered,

“Hello my sweetie”

hearing her almost broke him completely. he clutched the phone tightly, his voice trembling as he spoke. “mom… i—i don’t know what to do.”

“what’s wrong, jaeyunie?” her tone was soft, laced with concern

he hesitated. he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. couldn’t tell her that the person he loved more than forever was now promising forever to someone else

instead, his words came out broken and vague. “i just.. i feel like i’m losing everything.”

“oh, jake.” her voice cracked slightly, and he could picture her, thousands of miles away in brisbane, wishing she could reach out and hold him. “i’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.”

“i want to come home,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i just want to see you. i need to see you.”

“i wish you could, too,” she said gently. “but you’re strong, jake. i know you are. stay in korea for yourself”

he nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. the words were comforting in their own way, but they didn’t ease the pain gnawing at him. nothing ever could.

“i’ll be okay,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it. “i just.. i just don’t know how to let go.”

there was a long pause on the other end of the line. when his mother spoke again, her voice was thick with the weight of unspoken words,

“i know, son, i know”

jake closed his eyes, letting the silence hang between them for a moment before he whispered, “i wish i was there with her. i was supposed to be the one beside her today.”

his mother sighed, a sound full of both sympathy and sorrow, “you know it’s not always about being there physically, jake, but I understand.. it’s hard to let go when you’re still holding onto the dream you built in your heart.”

he swallowed hard, the tightness in his throat making it difficult to speak. “i thought she was the one. I thought we had a future. and now, i don’t know what i’m supposed to do with all of this… all these feelings, and she’s… she’s not even thinking of me anymore”

his mother’s voice softened. “I know. but maybe.. maybe you’ve been holding onto a version of her that’s no longer yours. people change, sweetheart. and so do relationships.”

jake stared blankly at the wall, letting the words settle in, but they didn’t make him feel any better. in fact, they only made him feel more lost, more alone. he knew it was true, of course—he’d seen it happening slowly over the past months. But to hear it spoken out loud made the truth more final, more undeniable,

“i just don’t know how to say goodbye..” his voice cracked, a sob he couldn’t hold back rising in his chest,

“i know, darling,” she replied softly. “but sometimes, saying goodbye is the only way to set both of you free”

oh….. i hate everything about goodbyes.

the night wore on and jake found himself unable to move, still sitting in the same spot. the wedding pictures had all but burned themselves into his memory, and he couldn’t look away from them. he wanted to scream, to shout, to curse the world for taking you away from him—but he couldn’t. instead, he just let the tears flow freely, as if every drop of sadness, of regret, was somehow washing away the person he used to be.

as the clock ticked past midnight, his phone buzzed again. it was a message from a group chat with his bandmates, and he briefly considered ignoring it. but then he saw it: a single notification from.. you..?

“Hi Jake!! God, I’m sorry. I wanted to reach out sooner because we’ve just been soo apart for a while, and I’m not sure if this is the right time to say this but, I just wanted to say… thank you for everything. You helped me become who I am today.”

he stared at the message with his heart in the pits of his stomach for several long moments, feeling the weight of each word press against his chest. the ache deepened. you had moved on—fully, completely—and here he was, stuck in the past, unable to let go.

it was almost cruel the way your message made him feel both grateful and shattered at the same time. you were happy. you had your life, your future. you had someone who would be there for you in ways he never could be anymore.

his thumb hovered over the screen, but no words came. what could he possibly say? what could he say to someone who no longer needed him?

I still love you.

He deleted it.

the words stayed with him. the line, the thin thread of hope that still clung to his heart, even though he knew better.

jake sat in the dark of his apartment, the echoes of your wedding day still fresh in his mind, and then, finally, he reached for his phone again. his fingers shook as he typed out a message to you—one he knew he should never send but couldn’t stop himself from writing

he pressed send before he could second-guess himself, but almost immediately, regret filled him. his eyes were glued at the message for a long time, his heart pounding in his chest. it was too much. he couldn’t expect you to do so, to follow his message. not when you had worked so hard and moved on to a future that didn’t include him

the notification buzzed back with the “delivered” mark

and yet, he held onto that one shred of hope—just for a second, just for a moment—wondering if, somehow, you would come back. maybe not now, but someday.

he closed his eyes, the weight of the words still heavy in his chest. and with a single, painful exhale, he let go.

“Congratulations on your wedding. Please call me.”

purely © soombee ‘s work ― all rights reserved !! please refrain from copying , stealing , or translating my work ( w/o permission ) thanku!

[in-halingstardust]

Feral

A/N: LISTEN if the people of Xianzhou all have animal like characteristics, that means Jing Yuan...hehehehhe. I MIGHT do a pt.2 depending on my mood lolll Tags: !mdni, rough sex, feral sex, subtle or not subtle flirting, one night stand. NOT PROOFREAD, meaning I will be editing later in the week but 3am thoughts go hard

Jing Yuan is more than meets the eye.

He was soft spoken with an undertone of authority hidden between soft smiles as he instructed Yanqing in the garden. You see daily, or at least as frequent Yanqing's lessons were, as you balanced a tray of snacks and tea placing it off to the side for their break. You groan. It was difficult to balance with how sore you were feeling. Jing Yuan, you found out, is also feral in bed.

Not that he pay attention to you after just one night.

"It's nice to see you today."

You gasp as the general himself stands about five feet away from you put together like the general he is. Nothing looks out of place until your eyes meet his and they slowly trail down to his jaw line. His barely exposed neck peaking out of his collar and you can clearly see the bruises you left on him last night. Your mind is clearer today and your embarrassed with how pale the marks you left on him are compared to the marks he left on your body.

Your face flushes into a bright red, you had the decency to cover up any semblance of that night by wearing a light bronzer that muted the angry red and blues scattered across your neck and chest. The marks on your thighs where he gripped to 'open you wider' were still a healing purple. Not to mention the multiple bites littered across your back.

Scratch that. It was a miracle you were still walking today.

You gulp, as you can feel your heart ready to beat out of your chest, the tray clinks against wood as you try to speak but he was already right there next to you.

His palm moves the strand of hair away from your face with such gentle care compared to how feroucious he was last night. He rubs a calloused thumb against you temple, his supple lips frowning as he steadies your shaky hands clasped against his.

The low baritone of his voice slips through his lips, "It doesn't seem as you were running a fever," he purses his lips as if in thought as he comes in closer and you let out a squeak, his voice caught by your ear in a soft whisper, his tone ending with a tinge of amusement "Was I too rough last night?"

Of course he was, but you loved every moment. Not that you admit it. You were to embarrassed how many times you screamed his name as he ate you out.

The way he had your face pushed down into the pillows ass up in the air as his gripped your waist like a lifeline, pounding to reach every part of you. If your arms would give out he would support you against himself. Your back curling against his chest as he press his hand on your hip making sure you wouldn't jerk after the countless mind bending orgasms that led you close to a spiral of overstimulation. His hand reaching across to grip your chin making you twist your head towards him as he kisses you beyond breath.

You remember this all too clearly and you break away from his hand looking towards anything that doesn't remind you of the man who fucked you so well until you couldn't even remember your own name.

"I'm- I'm fine!" You breathe in and out, feeling the red fade into a pink cherry instead, "You're just a little close that's all."

You peak out of the corner of your eye and you see the face of a man that reads, 'Were we not close last night?'

And you should be applauded for your people reading skills because Jin Yuan places a hand across his mouth the same way he does when thinking about the next move on the chess boards and simply mutters, "I thought we enjoyed making lo-"

You dart out- delicate hands covering his mouth before Jing Yuan could finish the sentence. You peak behind his frame and you still see Yanqing dedicated to swinging his sword.

You pout as you see amused eyes from underneath his bangs conveying all meaning, you frown. He is so sly.

A whisper well more of an sheepish mumble, "I did enjoy last night but," a little more confidence goes through your voice, "its a little much to hear you say it- if you know what I mean?"

He looks amused, as if the person in front of him was not gasping between his hands last night, he slides your hands away from his mouth grasping them again, "Then, how about another round tonight?" And he knows exactly the hold he has on you because he kissed the inside of your wrist his eyes peering up towards yours

"I'll be more gentle this time. I promise."

[hey-august]

250 Follower Event - Short-Cut Ending

Hey, so another project that I've had on the backburner for a while and I'd like to give it some sort of resolution. 😅

Back in February (wow time flies), I started an event to celebrate having 250 followers, which involved prompt lists and short stories. There were 14 items to pick from and I got through 10 of them before letting the event go cold. Here's the tag with all the filled prompts.

Here we are, 8 months later, and it's time to finish this off! Rather than writing stories, I did short lists for what each prompt would have entailed and where it would fit in the larger story.

And - surprise! - although the event was SFW stories, I did have an idea for a NSFW bonus, which I've included at the end. 😘

WC: ~700 Warnings: buggy x gn!reader. The 4 prompts are SFW, no other warnings for those. For NSFW - insertion sex, reader receiving.

Rock 🪨

Not yet in a relationship

Buggy notices that you have a collection of things in their room. Sea shells, gemstones, geodes, little carved figures, etc.

He wants to gift you something, so he gets you a rock. Not a gem or a geode, not a crystal cluster, just a rock he found on the shore that he thought looked nice and wanted to give to you.

This would connect back to Portrait, which mentions gem and sea stones on the shelf in the room you two share.

Heat 🤒

Not yet in a relationship

You or Buggy gets sick and the other had to care for them. I thought about making it where everyone but you gets sick, so you run yourself ragged trying to give everyone the minimal amount of care (water, food, some fresh air).

As everyone is finally getting better, you get sick and wake up in Buggy's bed.

I think this would have crossed over with Sing, where one of them sings a little lullaby while the other is resting.

Dream 😴

Established relationship

You or Buggy would wake up after a bad dream and get comforted.

If it was you having a nightmare, Buggy would probably shake you awake.

If Buggy was having the bad dream, I think you'd be so startled and Buggy would wake up shortly after startling you.

I'm not sure which this would pair with - Maybe Heat (listed above) since they're sharing a bed, or Cat because it would be comforting to fall back asleep with your partner and your pet nearby.

Treasure 🎁

This woulda been the grand finale once all the other prompts were completed!

You and Buggy would be on an island, walking through a forest, crossing a shallow river, etc etc until you find the spot for treasure. Your treasure - you're going to bury a time capsule!

And in the capsule are trinkets and memories from the previous stories - a cat toy, drawn portraits, an empty snack bag, a dried flower, a rock, buttons that Buggy sewed on your clothes, a bottle… I don't think every story has something that would go in the time capsule (either I forgot about this plan while writing, or changed my mind and don't remember that lolll), but a good amount do.

Maybe this would end with a cutesy kiss. Mwah!

~~~

Oh wait, the idea I had for a NSFW bit too? hehehehe

It would occur some time after you joined the crew and after the massage, but you're not in a relationship yet.

It's a stormy night. Rain, lightning, some thunder. The waves aren't huge, but enough to sway the ship back and forth.

Buggy comes across you standing in a doorway and watching the rain fall on the deck. You're enthralled - the storm is wild and magical.

You're holding out a hand to feel the water. The rocking from the ship is sending rain inside, wetting your feet.

Buggy steps out into the rain and invites you to join him. He's holding out a hand, which you reach out and grab.

You two dance in the rain, under the heavy clouds and sparks of electricity. Sometimes Buggy lifts you off the wooden floor and swings you around a little. You're both laughing, smiling, and having fun getting soaked.

When you finally step back into a covered area, there's something. An unspoken thing. Water is dripping from hair and clinging to eyelashes. Another crack of lightning. Then a kiss.

You and Buggy have sex right there, against a wall. It's a bit quick, but intimate. Wet enough to create some awkwardness, because clothes are clinging and don't give as easily.

Also, dad bod Buggy, but he's less nervous since you saw his tum once before and liked it.

I, uh, didn't think about how exactly this would end. I just wanted dancing in the rain and wet sex.

Let's say everyone finishes and Buggy offers to let you use his bathroom to freshen up and get warm. You step out after cleaning yourself up, and Buggy already has some dry clothes (his clothes) set out and says you can stay the night, if you want.

And you do, of course.

[knwatchesninjago]

S1E12 The Rise of the Great Devourer

HELLLLOOOOOOOOOOO NINJJAGOOOOOOOOOOO

Look who livessss!!!

Welp i gtg soon so imma just get straight to it, lolll!!

---

JIUHYGTFRDDFCGHJBKK

JAYYY

U DO NOT PUT SALT ON THE SANDWICH

and he didn't even put the slat on the inside parts.... he put it on the BREAD?!?!?!!!!

that's it.... im done questioning ninjago

---

MY BABBYYYY!!!!!!

Why is he soo tiny? 😭💞

How can Pythor look at that baby and hurt him?

---

Ok... time out... I'm back to questioning ninjago again....

WHAT MATERIAL IS THAT ANCHOR MADE OF!?!?

its right above lava....

apparently this volcano is also THREE BAJILLION DEGREES!??!?

ummm... forget the anchor... how in the world did the Destiny Bounty survive?!?!? And the ninjas!?!?

*sighs once again at ninjago logic*

(or the lack of it)

---

#Greenie

(boy do i miss my old tag of #Lloydster_Enters_The_Scene.... too bad the lloydster wont be coming back anymore :'( )

OKAY TIME OUT!!!

The deep voice in the beginnng made me cackle 🤣

I was soo set on editing after I watched that, but im on a time crunch due to my bet with my friends soooo...

loll

Also... where are the ninjas' braincells? Who in their right mind would let a 7 year old fly a ship all ALONE??!?

sigh

---

#SiblingBonding

Wwhen i ws watching this scene i really couldnt help but laugh when I saw the plank, loll. Dang, Wu... u reallly would make ur students walk a plank? Lolll

But all jokes aside... Kai... you really have some strong feet...

My little gremlin is sooo smalll 😭

----

#Stop Discriminating Against Snake-People

Okay... okay.

This is my biggest complaint.

Look I get it that the serpentine are the "bad guys" in this season, but... EXCUSSE ME?!?!!?!?

The only snake that deserves to be punished is Pythor. Actually...no. Even he deserves a break.

No one deserves to be locked up underground. Did you see the cave he was stuck under? It was full of skeletons. And Pythor was the oly one alive....

that has a lot of implications. The guy had to probably eat his fellow snakes in order to survive... the snakes were treated horribly.

Now I dont remember exactly why they were forced underground but if my memory serves me right... was it bc of some war?

But like... I bet there were so many innocent snakes as well, right?

Like looks at these babies:

i'm pretty sure these snakes are ment for comedic relief but stilll... some of them are sooo sweet 😭

And.... Cole..... blackberryy.... u did NOT have to shoot Skales....

Honestly with that kinda blast i have no idea how Skales even survived that, lolll.

Also... WU!!! WHAT THE HECK DUDE?!?!??

WHat was this for??!??

Why didn;t you let Pythor leave?!

Why are you trying to get both yourself and Pythor killed?!?

I know that it was trying to give off the vibe that Wu was "sacrifising" himself or something, but imo, it was just plain stupid.

But then again, im giving too much critizism to a kids show. No kid out there is analyzing the show like i am, so ur off teh hook this time, lol.

---

Also... y'all... this mailman deserves the world.

He is so dedicated to his job. Plus he's old.

---

I'll leave you with this:

#Never_Pause_Ninjago

lolll

Byeeeee!!! Cya laterr!!! <3333333

----

EDIT:

Oh wait!! I 4got to add this:

#My fav quotes

"But Sensei"

"Butts are for sitting"

(excuse me??!? wasn't there a yellow color or something? or am i remembereing wrong?)

"You are like the sunrise, we can not begin a day without you"

Zane sweetiee... ur too precious for the world!! <333

alright byeeee

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

[myloveforhergoeson]

tysm for the tag <3 i've only ever written the one story so my answers may be redundant, but i can talk about specific chapters of my story!

How many works do you have on A03?

just That's All She Wrote! but if we want to count individual side stories, different pov stories, and the au story that puts me closer to 10 i think!

What's your total word count?

tasw is currently 422,680 words! what!!

What fandoms do you write for?

big time rush! a long time ago i tried to write a that 70s show fic that was hyde/female oc but i got to embarrassed and deleted it lmao. she was the original roxanne (roxanne walters!!) and a few of her traits morphed into creating roxy for tasw. i also attempted a young justice wally west (kid flash)/female oc fic (althea prince) as well but only got through a rewrite of the first episode... all abandoned in favor of that's all she wrote which i think is the best choice :)

Top 5 fics by kudos:

you'll never guess... but that's all she wrote... :) but the most liked chapter on wattpad is the first one! and on here the chapter with the most notes is my most recent chapter, Sick, Sick, Sick!

Do you respond to comments?

i do my very best to!! i love love love comments and as we all know i always have soooo much to say. they make my day so i do my best to give that energy back to the commenter <3

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None so far... but lots of my chapters have angst! i think some of the angstiest i've ever been was probably chapter 19 where roxy was writing her letters, chapter 22 where roxy and camille get into a fight, and chapter 29 when mag comes to roxys door... can you tell i prefer fluff lolll

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

none so far, but i try my best to end most of my chapters on a happy note if situationally appropriate! i really loved the ending to chapter 18 part 2 (first rames kiss!), the christmas chapter (jersey + declan surprise!), and the slightly angsty but mostly happy end to chapter 14 (rames at the dance -> phone call to kendall)

Do you get hate on fics?

not to my knowledge but tbh i don't really think i'd care. i read a lot of fics as i was growing up and i know what i like and what i don't which is why i started writing tasw in the first place. additionally, i know that i can just close out of something or stop reading or whatever and i don't need to let the author know. but i saw a post the other day about people calling original characters cringe and whatnot and that hurt for a fraction of a second before i realized how much work i've put into my story and how it led me to this blog here and all of you and i felt soooo much better

Do you write smut?

i don't but i sure do read a lot of it lolll. i can hardly write kissing without kicking my feet and giggling and getting all silly about it i can't even imagine how i'd be if i tried to write smut - it would certainly affect the quality of my writing bc i'd be far too embarrassed

Craziest crossover?

i haven't written a crossover but i think there's lots of room for btr crossovers! i think i'm going to write a victorious/icarly/btr crossover just for fun as an additional tasw chapter. there's an episode of icarly where they go to a party in LA and meet the victorious kids - i think i'd be fun to throw btr + rox into the mix :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

erm. yes kind of. not the whole thing but mostly just original scenes + a few points of roxy's backstory i've written copied and pasted into another fic i found. still trying to figure how to bring it up to the author in a nice way without them thinking im coming for them...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i haven't, but how neat would that be! it would certainly be a massive undertaking

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

another thing i haven't done, but it might be cool. not really sure how it'd work out if i tried as i'm a pretty sporadic writer. i also don't do so well with deadlines

All-time favorite ship?

RAMES DUH! lolll jkjk. most of the fics i traditionally read are /ocs or /reader (i just put roxanne in the place of "me") but i've been reading so much btr fic lately and honestly any one of those ships have really been doing it for me lol. been pretty big into house and wilson from house md recently too

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i am going to do my very very very best to finish everything i've started in my tasw-sphere because i am so dedicated to this project and i desperately want to see it through. i don't see myself undertaking another project like this though... if you can't tell im very particular about my stories, i love them super super long, and i add in so much extra stuff. but my t70s fic was really fun to write when i was (it was basically bad boy x good girl... god im kicking my feet just thinking about it) and i was super super into my young justice fic for a while (silly boy x serious girl? not quite grumpy x sunshine but somewhere along those lines), but i'm not sure those'll ever be worked on again. we'll see!

What are your writing strengths?

is length a strength? i looooove a long fic. maybe that puts me in the detailed category?

What are your writing weaknesses?

i've never really understood grammar and like... good sentence structre? obviously i know how to write lol i don't believe i'm a terrible writer but i feel like i write more of a flow of consciousness instead of well formated sentences. i drag my sentences out so much. i use "as" like once a sentence and it's been starting to drive me crazy

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

english is the only language i speak fluently + i took four years of spanish in school; i think i'd be comfortable writing basic words and sentences in spanish but anything beyond that i don't think is for me. any other language i'd like to include would also be basic things like greetings, colors, or numbers probably and not much beyond just out of respect for people who do speak that language. i wouldn't want to badly butcher something as important as the language someone speaks!!!!! but on a sidenote i love it when i'm reading a story and i have to look up translations though, feels like a little scavenger hunt hehe

First fandom you ever wrote in?

technically t70s but i never published. i'd consider this btr still

Favorite fic you've written?

you'll never guess...

EEE THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN!! i'm tagging anyone who wants to add on; i'd love to hear what you have to say!! <33

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Found this browsing Tumblr. Nobody tagged me, but I wanted to do this anyway.

How many works do you have on A03? 15 (and more to come)

What's your total word count? 1,235,276

What fandoms do you write for? Big Time Rush, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Criminal Case, Harry Potter, Loonatics Unleashed, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012 series), Thunderbirds (1965 series), and Transformers: Prime

Top 5 fics by kudos: The Thunderbird and the Doctor (96), The Adventures of Avery Samuels: Welcome to Grimsborough (94), Save You (74), In the Darkness (72), Take a Shot in the Dark (61) - this is at the time of answering this

Do you respond to comments? I respond to comments on The Thunderbird and the Doctor only. (Because I started it when I only had limited fics and wanted to keep going.) Beyond that, I only reply if someone has a question.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? So far, my completed fics have happy endings, but the angstiest ending will be in The Adventures of Avery Samuels: Welcome to Grimsborough.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably The Thunderbird and the Doctor. I gave my couple a happily ever after.

Do you get hate on fics? Not since I've been on AO3.

Do you write smut? Oh God yes

Craziest crossover? Haven't written a crossover

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Oh my God, yes!

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but it'd be cool if someone wanted to.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Way back when and it never worked out.

All-time favorite ship? Do shipping canon characters with my OCs count?

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I feel like I'll finish all my WIPs, but Avery Samuels is going to be my longest story, so it feels daunting.

What are your writing strengths? Apparently, I'm good at cliffhangers.

What are your writing weaknesses? A lot (my confidence is nonexistent)

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I don't mind it as long as a translation's easily accessible. Never written with another language, but I won't say no to the challenge.

First fandom you ever wrote in? Loonatics Unleashed

Favorite fic you've written? No! Don't make me pick! It's like picking a favourite child!

I nominate @myloveforhergoeson @kristylime @ligercat and anyone else who wants to do it!

[undiscovered-horizon]

Bestie we need a part two 💳💥💥💳💥💥💳💳💥💥💳💳💳 ASAP u can’t leave this beautifully made fanfic without a  sequel, this made me kick my feet in the air and giggle like schoolgirl 😀 lolll I’m down bad for Eddie/riddler

yo call me FedEx because I deliver (not sure this the package you wanted tho)

Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 2

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

What you thought was a single, queer occasion, became something regular. The notes and cards would appear every other day and soon you found yourself expecting them with excitement. You had your own little, deliciously sweet secret. Realizing how the situation might look to others, you didn't dare tell anyone else about the strangeness you've been a part of - they wouldn't understand. People were quick to jump to conclusions, to assume the worst of others even if there was no malice. Just like there was none in the bizarre friendship or relationship, you had with someone whose identity you couldn't even begin to guess.

The question of the secret admirer's identity was something that wouldn't let you sleep. Some occurrences were too tailored to you and your mundane life for the enigmatic person to be someone completely estranged. Like that one day when the whole world seemed to be against you and nothing would go the way you wanted, you found a cinnamon bun with a birthday candle at your doorstep. So whoever they were, they simply cared.

Was there a piece of you that remained wary? Yes, of course, there was - if your life did not transform into a chick flick, it sure became a good buildup to a horror movie. That part of you, however, was silent most of the time. After all, what kind of malice, if any, could reside in a heart of someone who showered you with small gifts and words of affection?

That day, you were greeted with a bouquet of pink and red flowers strung together with raffia. A small tag was tied to the decoration:

What flowers are kissable?

You looked closer at the flowers in the bouquet - they were all of one kind...

"Tulips?" you slowly said to yourself. You couldn't help but laugh. "God, you're so corny."

Shaking your head with amusement, you entered your apartment and went straight to your bedside table to change one mysterious bouquet for another. The previous flowers barely even began to wilt.

"Wish you had a name," you said as your hand caressed the tag attached to the flowers.

Having let out a heavy sigh, you decided to change into something more comfortable. You let your thoughts wander, conjuring up various possibilities about the secret admirer, as you took off your top and pants - completely oblivious to the lovesick voyeur following each of your steps.

He felt a little ashamed for not immediately looking away. But, in the end, it wasn't his fault, was it? How could he ever be blamed for succumbing to your luring beauty? Could sailors truly be responsible for following the siren's song?

Although his eyes were still fixed on you, his mind was already fantasizing about the next gift he should make for you but most importantly - the little wish you had made that he couldn't help but grant. Truthfully, Ed couldn't deny you anything; he was but a humble servant to your ethereal glory.

The next day, when you were about to leave the comfort of your home and face the responsibilities of the real world, you found another envelope laying on the doormat outside your front door. Inside, there was another cheesy card to add to your abundant collection. This one, however, did not have a riddle written on it but a torn-out page from what looked like a vintage collection of poems:

My lady hath of charms her lion’s share; Grace, beauty, wit and a sweet thoughtfulness, Which rests serenely on her gentle face, Sweet as the flowers are, and pure as air.

Below the ripped-out page was a small scribble that made you audibly gasp, although softly: '- Ed'.

"So you do have a name... Eddie." You smiled to yourself feeling how easily the name rolled off your tongue.

His heart stopped for a moment. The world grew silent and the only thing that mattered, truly mattered, was the soft affection with which you spoke his name.

[alrightberries]

Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn��t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about. 

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own. 

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight. 

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[shoutogepi]

Best Friends

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.7k

[ ☁︎ ]  angst

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : unrequited feelings :’( really brief mention of sex (not nsfw tho!) & also (underage?????) alcohol consumption! 

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : On your last night in the dorms, Shouto realizes he has feelings for you, his best friend. 

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : idk honestly i started writing this last night and was gonna abandon it... but then val tagged me in an angst ficrec and i was like ok well! this is a sign to post bc then i will have at least one sho angst on my masterlist lolll oops :o

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   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃onight was the last night in the dorms. Three long years had come and went, and now everyone’s belongings were cleaned out and secured away with cardboard and tape, leaving an empty wing that was currently filled with bodies, neon lights, and red solo cups. Music was pounding through the hallways, reaching every room and allowing no one total escape from the celebration.

You had been occupying the dance floor with Mina and Tsuyu for the last half hour, and now that you had sweat off the latest drink of the night, it was time for you to set off and find your more moderate-tempered companion. The pink-skinned girl wiggled her eyebrows at you when you alerted them of where you were heading off to, Tsuyu planting a love tap on your ass as you made your way from the swarm of people. The frog girl wasn’t usually so loose, but the alcohol that pumped through everyone’s veins had left only a select few unaffected. Tsu, just like you, was one of the ones that was happily allowing the weight of daily student life slip from her shoulders.

There were plenties of warm bodies swaying with the heavy bass rattling the hallways, shadows of couples and interested singles leaning against the walls, whispers and rowdy laughs echoing as the entire graduating class of UA partied the night away. Skimming by the line outside the bathroom, your feet found their way toward the end of the hall easily enough, taking the path you had so many times before.

A creak sounded as you pushed the cracked door open, the sight of the open shoji screen allowing moonlight to stream onto the bamboo mat floor which crunched quietly underneath your tentative steps.

“Shouto?” you whispered his name, eyes taking in the silhouettes of the packed boxes against the walls before you turned and saw a shadow sitting on the mattress beside the door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your voice jolted Shouto from his wandering thoughts, his attention turning to you right away. He seemed surprised to see you standing there, and he peered up at you from his slightly hunched position on the couch. He acknowledged you with your name, his voice low and steady. By the sound of it, you wondered briefly if he had even had a drop to drink tonight.

Blinking at him a few times, you tried to adjust your eyes to the contrast between the bright moonlight and dark shadows. When you could finally see the planes of his handsome, somber face, you spoke, trying your best not to slur. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”

He paused, lagging for a second before the corners of his mouth curled and his eyes crinkled at the sight of you. “Just thinking,” he answered, examining you in that intrigued way he always did. After a moment he must have reached the conclusion that you were some level of smashed, for he patted the empty space next to him on the bed with a smirk and said, “Come sit with me.”

For a moment you wondered why he was alone, but then your brain caught up with you, and you realized that his other friends were probably busy with their own issues or endeavors. Ever since Midoriya finally grew a pair and asked Uraraka out, the two had been going at it like rabbits every spare second they had. And you could only imagine how busy Iida was as class rep, trying to keep the party at least a little bit under control. Momo was definitely helping him, and you had seen Bakugou begrudgingly holding Kaminari up with Kirishima under his other arm when you’d passed by them in the hall… Leaving only you to come and rouse the half and half hero from his solitude.

“Well that’s not allowed tonight!” You exclaimed, fist slapping against the side of your thigh. You would’ve used both hands for emphasis had the other not been occupied with a half-full plastic cup. Your legs felt like jello as you moved toward him, his cool hand wrapping around your arm to offer his support and steer you into the spot beside him. You almost fell but he held you up with the one arm, chuckling as your butt finally met the safety of the duvet.

“Thinking’s forbidden?” he laughed at your insistence, the sound rich and deep as his hand lingered on your wrist.

“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, pulling your hand away from his to cradle your precious cup and shooting him a playful, sideways glare.  “Brain turned off for the night. It’s in the fine print of the party rules, of course.”

Shouto gave you a funny look, eying you from the side. He repositioned himself, sitting upright and closing his eyes. It was hard for him to remain stoic when the quiet sound of your amused giggles tickled his ears, but he managed a nod before his eyes settled on you again. “Okay, I think it’s off.”

Conversation was always natural between the two of you, he never had to struggle to keep it flowing. And he liked talking with you, being in your presence. Which was the only reason why he was still entertaining this ridiculous charade.

“How do you feel?” you inquired, a goofy grin on your lips.

There was a twinkle in your eyes as you teased him, but Shouto held no qualms with your playfulness. Most people were still afraid to joke with him, believing that he was too obtuse to understand humor. Sure, he had struggled with the transition to school life in the beginning of their first year, but after you had transferred into their class second year, he found himself opening up even more than he already had.

“I feel… the same.” The grin on his lips remained, his eyes settled on your drunken form. His gaze flicked to your smile, shining in the moonlight and making something twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat, pushing down the feeling that haunted him every time he looked at you too long. “This doesn’t really work, does it?”

You pretended to entertain the thought for a moment, eyes rolling as you considered it animatedly before your lips broke into a beautiful smile again. “No,” you giggled, shoulders shrugging in your cute, drunken fit. “But it’s easier when you’re not sober!”

He turned, faux surprise hung from his brow. “You’re drunk?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and splashed onto you where his jean-clad thigh brushed against yours.

“Shut up!” You punched at his shoulder and pushed him away from you, shuffling yourself in the process.

Your hair swished with the movement and suddenly the soft, sweet scent of you was crashing over him. He breathed it in shamelessly, allowing himself to indulge in the warm feeling that suddenly emanated through his chest.

“You could try it, if you wanted. It really does help,” you offered your cup to him, shrugging.

Shouto eyed the red plastic cup, hesitant. He really wasn’t one to drink, but then again, neither were you. Tonight was about celebrating your graduation from UA, opening the next chapter of your lives. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on when it meant leaving all his relationships either behind him or pushed to the side. Okay, maybe he was kidding himself… there was only one person he would miss having in his daily life, and that person was sitting right beside him— the same one who was the source of his conflicted feelings.

“Or not!” your hand retreated and you took a little sip, the sweet jungle juice washing down your throat easily. “No pressure. It’s your choice, Sho.”

He nearly groaned at the nickname, the one he only allowed you to call him. Grabbing the cup from you, his calloused fingers brushed over your soft knuckles. He smirked at the excitement that surfaced in your gaze as he brought the lip of the cup to his mouth, emptying the contents in one long go. The liquid was sickly sweet, masking the bitter poison that entered his body alongside it.

“That was… truly disgusting.”

“Whaaat?” You balked, grabbing for the cup in dismay. He kept it out of reach, even though it was empty, setting it on the far table instead. “It’s good, I dunno what you’re on. It’s really, really good. Heheh, just like me…”

Shouto blushed at the innocent innuendo, looking at you as you closed your eyes and let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. He gulped, realizing that the alcohol was already taking effect and he was beginning to slip under its influence. Your method of “turning your brain off” was proving to be much more effective with the alcohol’s aid, but that was a whole other issue which he failed to foresee. 

He usually preferred to keep his brain on and fully functioning, especially when he was alone, with you. That way, when you roused the butterflies in his stomach and pulled on his heartstrings, he could tell himself to just ignore it and focus on how important your friendship was to him. But now, his defenses were failing him, and there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from beating faster, palms getting clammier.  

“You’re good?” he reiterated quietly, watching the way your tongue swiped across your lips, enchanted by it.

You chortled, finding the thought entertaining, apparently. “Yes! I feel really good right now.”

“Ah,” he murmured, sitting back and allowing the pillow he had propped up to sink around his form. “I feel... kinda good, too.”

A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped you at his confession. “You feel something already, Sho? Wow, that’s so efficient.”

Shouto didn’t really know what you meant by that, but he only smiled softly at the happy look on your face. He closed his eyes and listened to the fast rush of blood in his ears, the feeling of warmth prickling at his skin. He wasn’t drunk, per se, but he felt a little lighter than usual.

You had said that drinking would turn his brain off, but it seemed only part of it wasn’t functioning. The other side of his mind was working overtime, much to his chagrin. 

He was suddenly aware that this would be one of his last moments with you before everything would change. You were going to an internship not too far from his, only an hour away by train. But seeing you wouldn’t be nearly as easy as walking down the hallway… and it could only happen if the both of you found a time that worked and had the motivation to travel the distance to meet one another. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to do all that, just to see him.The realization hit him hard. 

No more sneaking to one another’s room and having whispered, midnight conversations. No more studying together and simply being in your presence. No more opportunities to let his gaze linger on you longingly, nor chances for him to grab your hand when your knuckles brushed against his in the middle of your walks. 

He felt sick at the thought of living without you. Maybe… maybe it was time for him to face his feelings head on. He had spent so long denying the recognition of them, the acceptance of them. The loss of you was imminent, unless he could finally force himself to say something, and it had to be soon.

As if you had picked up on his distress, you hummed quietly and shuffled closer to his side. His quirk spiked at the sudden proximity, heat flaring up as your head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m a sappy drunk, so I apologize for what I’m about to say,” you mumbled into his t-shirt, his skin prickling as your warm breath wandered through the seams and onto his skin. 

He huffed out a laugh to ease your worries, but he stayed absolutely still, unwilling to move a muscle in case it would somehow scare your body off of his. 

Then you whispered, “M’so lucky to have met you, Sho.”

Shouto choked on thin air, subtly wiping the moisture on his palms across the tops of his denim-covered thighs. Your scent surrounded him, and he couldn’t resist resting his head on top of yours, slowly breathing between your locks. “I… I feel the same, Y/n…”

It was quiet for another moment, his mind playing out a hundred ways to confess, trying to find the right words. Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying his reciprocation and the peacefulness of the quiet away from the party, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

You sighed and he shivered as your breath scattered across his collarbone again, almost jumping when your fingers landed softly over his. How you remained so soft with their vigorous training, he had no clue. But your fingers felt so warm, so right lacing with his. His throat was thick with apprehension, a lump forming there as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t often the two of you were sitting so close together, and he wondered if he was a piece of shit for thanking whatever God there was out there for you being kind of inebriated and so touchy right now. 

Slowly, he turned to look at you, eyes wide and conflicted, taking in how truly astonishing your beauty was up close. You lifted your head from your perch on his shoulder, gaze locking with his before your lips curled into a meek smile. Digits tightening around his, you squeezed his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, screaming at him to do something— anything— whatever it took for him to just form the words and tell you that he was in love with—

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

—you… He blinked, the words registering. 

You continued. “I know we’re moving away from each other, but I never wanna lose you. I cherish our friendship too much for that to happen, Shouto.”

Your words cut him. 

Friends. Friendship. 

His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and he had become a statue, stock still as you carried on thoughtlessly, eyes now flickering over to the moon hung low in the indigo night sky. 

“Please promise me that we'll never change. We might grow as people, but… our friendship will stay intact, right? I don’t wanna grow apart.”

It hurt. 

Time had stopped and his lungs shriveled up, his body aching as if you had just lodged your knee straight into his ribs. His tongue tasted bitter suddenly, and he could almost hear the sound of his heart cracking.

But Shouto was good at hiding his emotions, years of compartmentalizing them giving him an edge that no one else he knew had. He kept his face neutral, even if it felt like he was withering and dying inside.

“I just… don’t ever wanna lose you.”

It was almost impossible to force his lips into a thin, hollow smile. But he managed, even if it felt like prying iron with a crowbar. He looked into your eyes and nodded.

He understood. To some extent, he truly understood. 

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n... Don’t worry,” he took a deep breath, forcing the next words out even if he felt like he was about to be sick.

He cherished his bond with you too much to risk chancing it, confessing to you, and throwing it all away after your certain rejection.  He loved you too much to ever hurt you, and he was too selfish to let go of you, too. The only one that would suffer from this was him, and he was alarmingly alright with that.

If it meant that he got to hold onto you, even for just a little bit longer. 

If it meant that you would be happy... Even if he wasn’t.

“We’ll always be friends... I promise.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

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˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ 

afJSNKJKDKJ WRITING ANGST FOR MY BABY IS SO HARD AHH I LOVE U SHO PLS... reader is so dumb to see u only as a friend i hate that dumb bitch  ughhh (TдT)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[alltooreid]

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith 

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

[seelestia]

that's what i get for always spending time with him i guess lmao and yes ofc you're v v welcome to invade my inbox anytime you so wish <3

the two hu taos running around is sure to turn anyone's hair grey lol i can't for the life of me imagine the shenanigans you're both up to when put together /j

ah the social status gap ;;;; THAT'S 3 TROPES IN ONE HLDJSFLKSJDL OH MY LORD i can already taste the bitter angst at the tip of my tongue....

I THINK SO lol black + blue palette on ayato... and with all the signature fatui accessories... gosh. i really can't. any artists seeing this, if you ever want to draw it please tag me 🙏🏻 yeah no the moment he starts liking your presence you're locked in for life sis i am so sorry- /j

that's so fast sldkjfsldf i'm still on part 2 atm and i probably won't continue anytime soon cause of vacation plans sobsob

the rng gods blessed you with that one lollll nahh i am hopeless at building characters i tell you. i have no idea what i'm doing 80% of the time 🤣 i'm just here for the lore and music/voice and zhongli ✨

literally us:

"a child holding a bomb is two terrible signs manifested into one." i am dead, deceased, wheezing, tearing up with laughter-

oh al haitham is coming home whether he wants it or not 😈 i think i might skip 3.1 banners entirely in favor of saving up... the remelting tablet has got me hooked on ayato's playstyle so i'm eyeing for when he reruns too. probably not gonna be soon but still... also i want scara when he comes out solely bc his jp va lmao (and on that note, maybe childe hmmm)

definitely, more chars >>>>>>> constellations!!! yeah that's actually a good thinking hahah being on guaranteed is fun but also stressful sometimes.... my brother is at 60 pity rn and he actually wanted dori but he doesn't dare to pull bc he doesn't like ganyu or kokomi's playstyle lol rip

oooo strawberry and passionfruit tea, those sounds gooooood <3

i imagine zhongli very much approves of our tea addiction lol

atp, you should put copying zhongli's speech to a tee as your hidden talent 😭 i guess, this is what happens when you write for him sm, huh?? + all that listening to his voicelines, uh-huhhh 👀 i cannot blame you for that will also be me when i get ayato 🚶 (the day i start using, "ah, yes. naturally." like him is the day you'd know i've gone off of the deep end /j)

i may make your hair grey, but you will love me either way, right??? *innocently bats eyelashes* (/lh) hu tao and lia in one room would fr be the most effective aging process because i'd honestly laugh at her jokes and then add on to them 😭 also, i vividly recall that one time when zhongli did his osmanthus wine idle and i just absentmindedly responded, "i think your friends are six feet under tho". THE SILENCE AFTERWARDS WAS SO LOUD. idk how i can be both chaotic and chill at the same time (is this where my venti side comes out /j)

a love triangle with ayato and thoma is such a concept 🙏 but with a more realistic twist to it and with that, comes the harsh realization that reality brings. after all, a fairytale-like love is pleasant to indulge in; an escape, an almost surreal-like lantern of hope but you can't keep your head buried in books forever, can you? reality where capitalism reigns (/j) will always call, whether you wish to turn a blind eye to it or not. MMM, REALITY, THE ENEMY OF DAYDREAMERS *hiss* 🤺 (/lh)

fatui!ayato, what an enigma (don't lock me up, please. at least, let rin jie visit me because she'll help bail me out /j) 👀 yeahhh, you can't escape him if he's locked onto you <//3 which makes me think about how he'd be as your ex... i feel like ayato would be that smiling yet salty on the inside + passive aggressive ex. LOLLL he would 100% sneakily trip your new partner in public and extend an oh-so gracious and concerned helping hand to them (wowww, talk about sneaky).

rin jie, the only thing keeping me going with the quests is the aranara's <//3 i just divided the quests neatly, so i followed the process of completing at least one or two quests per day — THIS WAS EXACTLY HOW I DID MY STUDYING AND I GOT WAR FLASHBACKS FROM MY LAST EXAMS 😭 i love it when i apply my studying technique to long genshin quests, hehehe 🥸🏃 (/s)

who cares about meta because even at ar 50+, we're just cruising thru 🏂 does your brother beg to differ with his op builds??? we shall abandon him. (/j) i still remember when you told me he started building diluc after the new skin was released LOLLL and speaking of !! have you read up on enkanomiya's lore yet??? because remember my boy, caelin?? i think i might post his profile soon 👀 but absolutely dw if you haven't, the lore related to enkanomiya is only in the trivia section at the very end~

YEAHHHH, the way we are saving for both al-haitham and ayato 🤝 no because i was so happy when i saw ayato in the fayz trials + remelting tablet event 😭 the way he does his normal attacks, hello??? it was enjoyable being an ayato main even for a few minutes, i'm getting a taste of my future <//3 but let's wish scara and al-haitham won't be on the same banner because that shall be your true test + you're softening up to childe, it aeems??? 👀

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 14: Fortune Favours The Bold

its not the longest chapter but goddamn its soft <3 i hope you enjoy this its basically just fluff lolll 

tag list: @brynthebulldozer​ @mythicalamphitrite​ @nana035 @valravnsraven @hannahhistorian92 @not-thatweird (it won’t tag idkwhy sorry!) @isaac-lahey-is-bae @angrygardendeer @unstoppable-xavi

pairings; slowburn lorenzo x reader, platonic francesco x reader

Lorenzo fell into stride beside you, his words still hanging in the night air.

"There's lot of things I haven't told you about myself, Medici," you grinned up at him, his brows raising at your words.

"Is that so?" His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he thought of his next words. "Tell me another one."

Your face scrunched slightly in confusion, and he picked up on it immediately. "Indulge me, tell me another thing I don't know about you," he lifted his chin up, watching as the stars took their place in the sky. You looked to the side, bashful.

"Hmmm..." you trailed off, your eyes drifting to where Lorenzo was looking, letting the sound of your feet on the cobbled path fill the temporary silence, "I don't enjoy conversing with rich men," you smiled up as you watched the dots of light in the sky.

Lorenzo scoffed, his gaze falling on you once again. "You certainly didn't mind it tonight," he shot back.

"Untrue," the word was soft as it fell from your lips, "you don't have to enjoy a job to do it."

"Fair enough," he breathed out, "but surely you make an exception for bankers?" He tried, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked together.

"Pazzi isn't one for conversation," you shook your head, continuing to tease Lorenzo, "his nephew however..."

"Oh come on, Bellondini, you can't despise my company that much," his ego was on the verge of bruising.

You just looked at him, trying not to laugh at his audacity.

"Y/n," his hand caught yours, and he stopped you both from walking, as his thumb brushed a gentle line against your fingers. Both your eyes were watching your hands. "Look, I am truly apologetic for the things I said, they were spoken with spite. I'm well aware you would never wish to be my friend, let alone my wife." His honesty took you by surprise, you glanced up at him, to find him already looking down at you.

"I thought we were saying things that we didn't already know," you attempted to joke, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes with your free hand, but his own met yours, holding it against his face.

"I'm serious. You are a remarkable woman, your lack of status does not weigh on you at all. It fills me with envy. For my status is all I am. All I could ever be," he admits, and you are frozen in place.

"You know your words hold false," your voice was quiet, you couldn't believe what he was saying.

"You, more than anyone, know them to be true," his lips smiled, but his eyes showed anything but happiness. You used your hand on his face to cup his cheek properly, forcing him to keep eye contact with you.

"You do not need me to inflate your head, Lorenzo, you know just how cunning you are. I mean, who else would have thought of such a fine way to utilise my skills?" You countered, and you watched a glint pass through his eyes.

"Anyone with half their right mind still in pla-" he began, but you cut off his pity party before he could eat his cake.

"Lorenzo. When will you realise that wealth and status aren't everything? I am remarkable because I am. As are you. Our blood doesn't define us," you were growing weary of this talk, and Lorenzo crying over being so rich.

"You think I'm remarkable?" He cocked a brow, and you let your hand fall from his face.

"Did I say that?" You acted as if deep in thought.

"I'm almost certain," Lorenzo simply nodded, his hold on your hand easing, until it faltered altogether and you both began walking again.

"I'm not," you grinned, "I certainly recall you saying something about how remarkable I am though..." you teased.

Lorenzo turned to you, a lopsided grin showing his teeth plastered across his face. He shook his head and focused back on the path in front of him.

It wasn't long before you were back in your room at the inn, out of your fancy gown and into one of Lorenzo's shirts. He hadn't mentioned it, but it was the least he could do as you had no other clothes with you, and would have to wear your own dress again tomorrow.

"Goodnight," you whispered, sliding under the covers and lying down.

"Goodnight, y/n," Lorenzo stood awkwardly beside the bed for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"Are you going to sleep?" You questioned, lifting up the blanket beside you for him to get in.

He didn't move. "You don't wish for me to sleep on the floor again?"

"As long as you stay on your side I have no qualms," you promised, turning over to face away from him.

The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he gingerly got in. You tried your very best not to laugh. Lorenzo de ‘Medici, womaniser, so awkward about sharing a bed for the night. He could be such a child at times.

"Besides," you spoke up again, "my dagger is never out of reach," you teased, lightening the tension.  Lorenzo scoffed, turning to lay on his side away from you. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you sighed, "again."

—-

You hadn't been travelling for long before you arrived at the same town as days before, where you'd acquired the dress. Lorenzo pulled on Callus' reigns to bring the horse to a stop.

"What ever is the matter?" You grumbled, you hadn't fully woken up and were hoping to get some distance covered today.

"Nothing. I just thought it an idea to get some food, we won't come across another town until midday and you will be starved by then," he hopped down off Callus, before putting out his hand for you.

"And you're immune to hunger?" You tilted your head, swinging your leg over the side, although not taking his hand.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes, shoving coins into your hand before grabbing it and pulling you down. "Just go get something."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," you huffed, although your eyes were already scanning the market for what you'd buy.

"Yeah, not your side," he smirked at you, and you just laughed, shaking your head slightly before headed towards a fruit stall that had caught your eye.

"Be back here in twenty!" He called after you. You waved at him without looking, agreeing to his terms.

And you stuck by them. In twenty minutes you were back where he'd said, a bag of food secured. But neither he nor Callus were there. Worry set in. Surely he wouldn't desert you? Surely?

You bit at your nail, looking around for him, until you saw Callus tied up outside a small store, a stranger brushing him. You moved towards him, trying to check him out before confronting him.

A hand rested on the small of your back before you could reach him. And you spun to see Lorenzo smiling down at you. "Everything alright?"

"Where were you?" You ignored his question, glancing to under his arm to see he was holding two parcels.

"Doing some shopping myself," he shrugged, before he guided you both to Callus. He thanked the man and gave him some coin before he started to secure the parcels to Callus. He took the bag of food off of you and tied it around the saddle.

"What's wrong?" Lorenzo asked when you still seemed off.

"Nothing, let’s go," you decided, and so you did.

—-

After another day and a bit of travelling, you had arrived home. Lorenzo had brought you just outside of town, before helping you down off Callus. You both stood beside the horse, Lorenzo reaching into his satchel to pull out a bag of coins.

"Your payment," he stated as if it wasn't obvious.

"Thank you," you almost felt awkward taking it, before you quickly ignored that feeling.

"And, uh, a small gift. To show my gratitude. And my regret of my previous words about... well you know," he sighed, his lack of composure was unsettling, but you didn't have to focus on it as he took the parcels off the saddle and handed them to you.

"Lorenzo, you needn't have-" you looked at the gifts in your hands. One of the parcels was thick, but soft, and the other was narrow and cold.

"I did," he assured you.

"Well, thank you," you looked up at him, not realising just how close you were standing apart.

Your eyes scanned each other's, before you took a step back. "What are they?" You broke the silence.

"I'm sure you'll figure out a way to find out," he grinned. You shook your head at his stupidity before reaching up to pull him into a quick embrace. It didn't last more than five seconds but he didn't need any longer to react, wrapping his arms around you for the short hug.

"Good luck with the vote," you bid him, it was happening in a matter of days. You had discussed it all on your journey, and you both decided that Pazzi would definitely be calling on you in the upcoming days, and unless something was to happen with him, you had no more business with Lorenzo until then.

He smiled at your words, looking to Callus before back at you.  "I cannot lose with you on my side."

[mimi-cee-hq]

Philippine Debut Headcanons for Bokuto, Kuroo and Tsukki

Filipina!s/o bringing Bokuto, Kuroo, and Tsukki to her cousin’s debut. (A debut is a formal coming-of-age birthday party on a filipina girl’s 18th birthday. Also Tita and Tito is Aunt and Uncle but not necessarily related to you.)

@keijish, @leiawriteshaikyuu ​, Look at what you two started from your Akaashi x filipina!s/o request post!!!! (I had to google some stuff too. lol.) Also tagging @hqprotectionsquad and @blockersclub

Bokuto

You told Bokuto that you were bringing him to your younger cousin’s birthday party. He was thinking pizza party with cake and little kids.

Nope. It’s a formal, almost wedding style huge event.

He stares in awe of the lights and decorations and the formal tables.

There’s a huge table of food in the room.

“Y/N! THERE’S A DEAD PIG ON THE TABLE!”

You scold him when he tries to touch the pig’s head - or anything else on the table

“But everything looks soooo good!!!”

You were asked by your Tita to be part of the Pandanggo performance

“What’s that?”

“I balance lit candles in glass containers on my head and hands”

“WHAT?”

He’s in awe of the performance and afterwards he grabs the candles from you to try it himself

He may or may not have started a fire

Kuroo

When he arrives at the convention centre, he looks around a little surprised, but not too fazed.

“Is this seriously your cousin’s birthday party?” “Yes”

He’s greeted by very welcoming Titos. He fits right in with all of their lame jokes and puns. LOLLL.

FOODDD

You tell him to try the “pudding”

“It tastes good. What is it?”

“Dinuguan,” you reply. He keeps eating it. “aka pig’s blood stew” He chokes.

Your Tita asked you to be part of the Tinikling performance.

“What’s that?” “I step between two bamboo sticks to the rhythm”

He’s in awe of the coordination it takes to do the performance. But when it’s your turn, he gets worried and tries not to panic.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOUR FEET ARE GOING TO GET CAUGHT!”

“SHUT UP KUROO! I CAN’T HEAR THE MUSIC! YOU’RE MESSING UP MY TIMING!”

He had fun that day and asked when the next party would be.

Tsukki

You told Tsukki that you were bringing him to your cousin’s 18th birthday. Because that’s what a Philippine debut is.

When you told him to wear formal clothes, he just looked at you weird but he complied.

He was expecting a small house gathering but you two arrived at a convention centre.

“Did I walk into a wedding?”

He gets overwhelmed by all of the Titos and Titas greeting him.

During dinner time, everyone is trying to feed him LOLLLLLL

When he refuses to eat more food, all the Titas go, “Hoy! You’re too skinny!” or “Ay NAKO! You hab to eat more so dat you can gro big and stRRong”

You just laugh

During performances, he’s just wondering about the point of them all

“What? You go dance and now there’s someone singing a song too?”

18 of your cousin’s friends go and give her the 9 roses (from male friends) and 9 candles (from female friends)

“Why are they doing that?” he asks. You explain.

“Did you even have one rose for your debut?” he snickers

You said you didn’t have a debut party because your parents are the quiet type. So he just puts his arm around you with a smirk, a little happy that you didn’t have one.

This was actually the first time I wrote a headcanon post like this. lol.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Interlude: Second Best

long·​ing | \ ˈlȯŋ-iŋ : a strong desire especially for something unattainable guardian demon!Jimin x reader genre: fluff, romance, angst, comedy, supernatural word count: 4.9k Related works: See Masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin POV switch for Jamais Vu A/N: IT’S ANGSTY LOLLL woops and a little longer than i had planned tbh but i hope you enjoy it all the same, because this will give you some insight when the tone shifts in the next couple of chapters :DD Again, thank you SO SO SO much for the wait and support! I love you all!! I hope you like this chapter! 💜💜💜🥺🥺🥺 (also, without meaning to, The Truth Untold really fits as an OST here... LOL)

Tag: @cherryjiminiee​ @kokobaekkie​ @breathebangtan​ @itsadoozie​ @thatshylatinagirl​ @chiminieboi​ @azulamakesmeblank​ @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b

He needs to stop doing that.

Tempting himself with little touches whenever he gets the chance. They’re harmless enough but he might as well be dissecting his own heart at an excruciatingly slow pace.

But he’s come to know by now that he doesn’t have much sense when it comes to you.

Jimin moves through the crowd like a phantom, passing by without so much as a second glance from anyone despite your lack of trust with his choice of attire. To others, he’s just another traveler trying to get to where they need to go. And right now, he’s shadowing you, eyes trained on the back of yours and your friend’s head. He’s got a clear view even when Jimin is a good twenty or so steps back and there’s a wall of people separating him from you, keeping well to his word that he would be discreet enough that you won’t even notice him.

He watches from a far as you and your friend are excitedly chattering away with two girls whom you have never met before as if you have always known them. The entire interaction makes his lips curl with an amused smile. Under different circumstances, Jimin would think it all stupid; not really understanding how ridiculously trusting you were being just because you all shared a common love for a group of musical artist yet somehow, seeing you makes it strangely wholesome.

It’s in those moments that he chances a glimpse of what humanity could be but ultimately choose not to.

Jimin eventually leaves you, weirdly confident that you’re in good hands as he hails an airport limo. One almost immediately pulls up beside him, the man hastily getting out.

“Good morning sir, where are we heading off to today?” The driver asks as he comes around to pull the door open for Jimin to duck in, gliding into the seat.

“The Ritz-Carlton, downtown.”

The man nods in acknowledgement, shutting the door once he’s sure Jimin is settled before jogging back to the driver’s seat. The drive there is quiet, something the demon is thankful for because he’s not in a particular mood to humour anyone. He takes the time to slip the black surgical mask off, finally feeling the cooler air hit against his warmer skin. He exchanges it for a pair of shades he pulls from his duffle, slipping them on before he crosses his arms, sighing deeply and sinks into the plush leather.

The traffic gets noticeably more congested the closer the car comes to the downtown area so it takes a while before the entrance to the hotel comes into view. Jimin hands off a couple of bills to the driver when he opens the door for him again, hauling his duffle bag and jacket as he steps out. The driver courteously bids him a good day but Jimin only has half the mind to offer a grunt in response, heading off into the lobby in long strides to the front desk where a man in a pristinely pressed suit greets him. He’s quickly given the keys to his room and is escorted to the lifts, the bellhop offering to take his things but Jimin waves a dismissive hand, keeping to himself as much as possible.

By the time he gets to his suite, he’s feels unreasonably weary and all but tosses his duffle bag carelessly to the foot of the king size bed along with his shades to collapse into the soft embrace of Egyptian cotton sheets. Jimin shuts his eyes for a moment, hands coming up to rub the bridge of his nose as another deep exhale leaves him.

If he was a normal human being, Jimin shouldn’t be feeling this tired since for majority of the plane ride, he had fallen into quite a deep slumber. But since he’s in fact not a human being, it only raises concerns. Lately, he’s noticed that he’s been sleeping a lot more — way more than a demon should be doing considering they don’t sleep at all (it’s viewed as more of a leisure activity to do rather than something that’s required) and if he’s not sleeping, he’s constantly feeling like he’s got a bad case of lethargy. It’s troubling and also irritating as hell, but Jimin already suspects its the unfortunate byproduct of having completed two acts of the five he needs to do.

And has no idea how to do the rest.

His eyes slip open then, brows furrowing with dark obsidian orbs glaring into the cream coloured ceiling like it would give him the answers. The second act was a stroke of luck on his part, Jimin thinks; a matter of being in the right place at the right time and for very good reasons. He can’t imagine accomplishing the rest in the same manner.

Running a hand through his hair, Jimin contemplates a little longer until he huffs out an agitated sigh. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it won’t do him to mull over this problem endlessly, figuring that he can be at least thankful that there doesn’t seem to be any particular deadline (knock on wood). Glancing at the beside clock, he sees the red numbers reading 1:36PM and idly wonders if you’re still at the venue no doubt soaking in all the excitement and activity going on.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, already imagining you, eyes alight with the biggest grin on your face as you try to take everything in. Finally, he hauls himself to sit up, giving his neck a few stretches before he gets off the bed to make his way to the en suite bathroom. With so much time to waste, Jimin hopes that a cold shower would help wash away a bit of his fatigue, quite literally. Besides that, he hasn’t felt any intense negative emotions from you which more than likely means everything is fine, for now.

He half-heartedly shuts the door, reaching up to grasp his shirt from the back of his neck to pull over his head. The black tee is dropped to the floor without much care, along with the rest of his clothes. He passes by the mirror, catching a glimpse of himself and though it was brief, the image reflecting back at him made him grimace all the same.

The natural glow on his skin had long since dulled, making him appear as if Jimin hadn’t seen the sun in months, the ghost of blue veins and bruises peeking from beneath made even more visible from how pale he’s become. The tattoo crest over the left side of his chest is faded, almost in a way where the ink is slowly being rubbed off a little bit more each day — another indication of his reduced powers. He’s lost a bit of weight, most noticeably around his face and although it’s defined his jawline significantly, his cheeks are at risk of hollowing out soon.

It’s only truly been a day, and yet now he is nothing more than a withering, duller version of who he’s supposed to be.

A cheap imitation.

He scoffs, a humourless sort of laugh. How ironic it is that he’s come to care more on what’s supposed to be a very superficial part of being a demon, perhaps even found meaning to.

When he steps into the clear glass shower stall, Jimin turns the water until it runs ice cold before stepping under. He inhales sharply at the first contact, the shock in the temperature hitting against his more warmer skin but he quickly grows numb to it, grateful for the way the water seems to ease the discomfort growing along his shoulder blades. Jimin doesn’t know how long he stands there, eyes shut and lulled by the sounds of the running shower beating down on him and echoing around in the enclosure.

It’s a temporary respite from his thoughts and when he finally decides to shut the water off, he feels a little more alert. He towels himself off, wrapping one around his slim waist as he heads back into the large bedroom to grab a change of clothes from his duffle.

Once he’s dressed, he dries his hair and by the time he’s done, the clock reads near five. The show starts in two and a half hours, he supposes he should get a scope of the venue. Grabbing the black surgical mask, Jimin secures the ends behind his ears, preparing to apparate to the arena when —

He stops midstep.

Ah, right.

A rush of air leaves his nose, cocking his head as your words replay in his head. He already hears your chastising tone with them too.

He quietly chuckles to himself, then continues walking, heading to his door.

With as much discretion as he could manage (okay, he might’ve cheated here and there by cloaking himself), he makes it to the venue which wasn’t so bad of a walk from the hotel. No one pays attention to him, with the hood of his pullover drawn up he was just another faceless person in the passing crowd. It only really got trickier the closer he came to the epicentre of it all.

He sticks to the shadows and less populated spots, staying out of sight and blending in wherever he can. There are still some large crowds gathered at some of the booths, trying to take advantage of the quickly dwindling number of patrons who have already moved on to getting into the arena. Others are running as fast as their feet can carry them, racing against time in whatever it is they needed to do while it seems like eighty percent of the concert goers are in a line, excitedly chatting and impatient to have the show start. It’s a hubbub of activity, boisterous and charged with energy that even Jimin has a bit of a struggle orienting himself. So not much later, he slinks towards the side alley of the building where the crowds tend to avoid.

It grows a little quieter the further he moves down the path, the jumble of voices becoming more muffled. The asphalt paving is cracked in numerous places with some giving way to potholes that Jimin can only guess is from how often trucks carrying equipment for events pass through here, or even ones meant to empty the dumpsters pressed up against the walls. Weeds sprout long and thin against them in bunches, pushing tenaciously through the cracks and somehow still managing to grow in spite of the lack of good soil. The poor upkeep alone is enough to deter anyone from wandering back here, which means Jimin can peacefully explore the area.

His strides slow without the rushing need to remain hidden, strolling along the alley before his eyes come across a door right beside one of the large dumpsters, perfectly situated so that it’s almost concealed. It lacks any handle, the only thing visible was a metal plate ridge on the side and a silver keyhole. Jimin supposes this meant that the door opens one way, probably for employees to quickly throw out the trash but otherwise is not by any means a point of entry.

Perfect.

He takes one more glance around, makes sure no one is looking and then with all of his concentration, phases through. Immediately his senses are bombarded by the booming of the bass as well as the far off distant hustle of people, but he pushes all of it aside in trying to shake off the fuzzy haze clouding his sight and the light thrumming in his head. Jimin presses a palm to his forehead, shutting his eyes with gritted teeth until the feeling subsides and he straightens himself, a little flabbergasted.

Fuck, this is going to suck.

He pushes the disconcerting fact that phasing through a door was enough to make him dizzy, focusing on doing what he came here to do; find a loophole in security and make sure you won’t get hurt at any point during the night — easy.

With light steps, Jimin makes his way out of the corridor, coming into an area spacious enough to have golf carts driving through (no sooner had he thought that, one goes zooming by). It vaguely reminds him of an underground parking garage except less…dingy. There are a few people walking about, busy with their heads down engrossed in their phones or sheets of papers in their hands and he easily recognizes them as part of the crew from the lanyards that dangle around their neck. A pretty, pastel coloured thing that easily catches his eye against the mostly all black uniform they sport.

He walks for a bit, almost as if entranced by the muffled songs and distant cheers that echo all around him until he comes across the hallway leading to the artist waiting room. It’s much busier and noisier, people scuttling in and out with multiple voices giving orders, updates, laughing, calling out for others in Korean and…is that singing?

The more Jimin listens, the more he picks out the melodic flow of a scale being sung, ranging from high, airy lilting tones to much more deep and richer timbres. He recognizes the tunes, songs you play when you study, get ready for the morning or unconsciously hum under your breath — songs that have grown on him.

Gradually, the singing becomes louder and suddenly Jimin sees an entourage of people exiting out of a room all at once. He instinctively side steps back until he’s concealed by the shadows offered by a large pillar, continuing to watch the scene unfold in front of him that way.

They stand out amongst the many staff members crowding them and not just because they’re dressed in absurdly black sparkly suits. Hair immaculately styled and complexion as pore-less as porcelain, Jung Hoseok, otherwise known as J-Hope, strolls out adjusting his headset before brushing his hands down on his jacket, straightening it out as a woman dabs finishing powder delicately on the tip of his nose. Quick to follow is Kim Taehyung, or V, still doing vocal warm-ups as he comes to stand beside the older member to wait for the others. They’re strikingly handsome in their own distinct ways, Hoseok with his high cheekbones and swooping nose bridge that makes for an arresting side profile while Taehyung with a round face tapering down to a strong jawline and near symmetrical features makes for a face that seems too unreal to be true.

A small part of him is aware that he shouldn’t be lingering like this because the unspoken rule is that a demon should never confront or even come into close proximity of the one they’re masquerading as for very obvious reasons. It’s risky and puts him in danger but there’s a morbid curiousity that’s gnawing at him, compelling him to stay and it’s not long before he sees him.

The owner of the sweet lilting voice that sounds much like his own, yet not at the same time.

Dressed much like his waiting members, BTS’ Park Jimin emerges from the artist waiting room, one hand shoved into his pants pocket, strides so languid and purposeful that one can mistaken the plain, industrial hallway to be a high fashion catwalk instead. He’s singing softly but puts emphasis on certain phrases to get the pitch right, sometimes repeating as if he’s not satisfied with the way it sounds. He’s practically glowing, hair a halo of rich honey blond, styled and coiffed to show his face which is made up of a myriad of contradictions — soft full cheeks are paired with a sharp jaw, full lips and slightly puffy eyes that can drown anyone with a sultry gaze; the perfect balance of lust and innocence.

As a demon, even he has to admit he’s impressed.

Hoseok makes a noise of appraisal, scanning the younger over and it makes a smile bloom, eyes scrunching until they disappear before he gives a light shove to the older man’s shoulder, giggling in clear embarrassment. A playfulness takes over the small group, conversation flowing easily with a few teases thrown here and there that anyone could see the strong familial bond the boys share amongst each other.

It’s so strange, he thinks, watching them as if through a looking glass with his eyes fixated on this person who’s very much real, living out a completely different life than his, beloved by all and equally admired by many.

Someone who you love.

That alone should ignite a jealous flame that consumes him, and yet the only one who he’s spiteful of is himself.

“Oh Jimin are those new earrings?” Taehyung says, reaching a finger out to brush the thin silver chains hanging from the small hoop they’ve been threaded through.

“Ah yeah, I wanted to try out a new style so I combined two of them.”

“They look good.”

Jimin preens at the compliment, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he shakes his head a little, making the earrings twinkle in the light. As his head lolls to one side, something catches his eye for a brief second, making him straighten at attention, smile faltering. The sudden shift startles his friend.

“Why? What’s up?” Taehyung asks, eyes impossibly wide as they flit from Jimin’s face to where his friend’s gaze is trained.

The blond blinks, mouth parted to speak but finds trouble in trying to describe what he saw out of the corner of his eyes. “I— Just now, I thought I saw a person….by the pillar there. But…I couldn’t really tell.”

Boldly, Taehyung takes steps around so that he could get a better angle of the pillar but remain at a safe distance, leaning his weight fully to one side in hopes of catching whatever it is that Jimin thinks he saw, but all there is is just a shadow being cast.

“There’s nothing there Jimin-ah… Maybe you were imagining it? Are you that nervous?”


“No I’m not!” Jimin punches Taehyung lightly, the gibe taking the edge off a little but just to give himself his own peace of mind, Jimin takes a look as well, finding nothing in the space behind. He doesn’t know what to make of it however, he’s not given the time to mull over it because the rest of his group mates show up and they finally start heading to the stage lift, their eagerness and seemingly boundless energy carries him away, reminding him of other more important matters at hand.

Admittedly though, he can’t help but still feel a little in disbelief over it because he could’ve sworn there was someone watching him.

-

The show gets under way splendidly, the level of excitement palpable even from where he’s hidden. During that time, the demon has made his way to a spot right at the corner under the catwalk, the low lighting and barricade helps in making it easier for him to blend in as the silhouettes of the security guards posted around the perimeter, rarely having to conceal himself using his powers. Jimin has spotted you a couple of times, your figure peeking in between others and every time he sees you, you’re having the time of your life. The ever-changing spotlights cast pretty colours on you, dancing over your face and making the smile you had seem to radiate even more.

He finds himself caught up in watching you rather than the amazing performance thousands of other people have their eyes fixated on.

The only time he stops is when you push yourself through the crowd in order to get a better view of the idol he’s impersonating. It’s hard not to when the young man does such a brilliant job at commanding the stage, filling it up in spite of performing alone. He watches on, fascinated yet unable to for long as it only stirs up complicated feelings at having to face what he so painfully lacks.

You on the other hand, are completely enraptured; eyes focused and trying to drink in the image of him as much as they can but past the open awe and adoration, Jimin picks up on something that he can’t quite seem to place — something he can only describe as melancholy, like you’re already starting to miss the idol despite him being right in front of you. He doesn’t understand why.

As the music switches up, so does the mood as the hype level rises astronomically. The band members have the whole arena up on their feet, jumping, dancing and singing (or screaming?) to the lyrics. The atmosphere is hot and in more ways than one, with all the lights and the numerous bodies moving in one mass. Jimin swears everyone has worked up a sheen of sweat, even himself who’s yet to really move a muscle. At one point, he had actually snuck a water bottle for a drink, the growing humidity almost suffocating.

He tries to focus in on his heartbeat which seems to beat in sync to the heavy bass but the flashing lights and loud cheers make it hard, his senses bombarded. It takes a while before eventually the staccato thrumming in his chest slows until it doesn’t feel like it would burst through his ribs. It tapers off to a much steadier rhythm, almost as if he were deep in sleep.

But then it continues to slow even further.

Alarmed, Jimin’s hand flies up to press against the spot in search of a pulse, breath suddenly coming out short to find that he can barely feel it there. For a moment, he’s confused until a chill runs through him that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. His immediate reaction is to look for you, eyes searching frantically in the crowd. It frustratingly takes a while as he realizes he’s lost you a bit but eventually he finds you and what he sees makes his stomach drop.

You’re slightly hunched over like you’re fighting to keep yourself upright on weak knees, standing out so clearly amongst the sea of moving bodies. When you manage to straighten yourself, he catches sight of your flushed cheeks and heaving chest, the sheen of sweat reflecting off of the strobing light and not helping with your feverish look.

And then your eyes roll back and you’re tipping over.

His mouth falls open and the shout that slips past falls on deaf ears, smothered by the music and incessant screaming. Jimin’s reaching out before he could even think about the risk of being found, his panic driving him as he sees you being swallowed by the crowd, the bodies intermingling and threatening to close in around you and make him lose sight of you. It all seems to be happening in slow motion, but what he doesn’t realize is that he’s the one who’s causing the time distortion, his desperation manifested.

In those long seconds, JImin moves purely on instincts, teleporting himself in short bursts to reach you and soon as he feels his hand close around your wrist, he apparates the both of you with every ounce of magic he can summon.

There’s a whistling of air in his ears and the next second, he’s crash landing against a brick wall. His back hits it hard, crumpling to the ground instantly and he lets out a low groan, teeth gritting as his eyes screws shut at the pounding in his head. Everything aches, his body screaming at him from the strain but the only thing Jimin cares about is the fact that he’s managed to take most of the brunt force of his sloppy landing from you who’s safely cradled in his arms.

Fighting through the pain, he immediately directs his attention down at you, blinking away the black spots in his vision hastily.

“Hey…!” Jimin calls out, voice gravelly and still breathless. He shoves down the mask covering his mouth, the first touch of cooler air a relief against his warm, damp skin and it feels like he’s properly breathing now. He cups a hand to your clammy cheek, not liking how the colour seems to have been drained from them as he checks for a pulse, which thankfully is still strong. He brushes the hair away from your face, propping you up in a more comfortable position, softly murmuring words of encouragement even if you might not hear them.

Jimin’s not exactly sure if he should be doing something more drastic than simply hope that you would wake on your own but luckily he didn’t have to resort to such measures when he sees your lids begin to flutter. Slowly, your eyes slip open and though you’re clearly very out of it still, Jimin already feels the pressure on his chest alleviate.

“Y/N….? Hey Y/N, can you hear me?”

It takes a minute before the focus returns in your gaze a little more, but Jimin waits patiently. He takes the time to do a once over on you, noting that your complexion is gradually getting better and from the looks of it, you didn’t seem to sustain any external injuries, much to his relief.

“Ji…Jimin…?” Your voice comes out raw and cracked, drawing his attention at the first call of his name.

No, not yours.

His brows furrow as he pushes away the intrusive thought, his first priority being to make sure you were okay. Jimin uncaps the water bottle in his hoodie pocket, gently feeding it to you until you found your strength, taking and gulping down the rest at an impressive speed.

“Slow down cherub…”

At least you were resilient, he thinks.

The next few moments were spent letting you rest and recuperate. When you were more clear headed, he fills you in on how you ended up out here in the side alley of the arena however, what soon followed after wasn’t something that he had meant to happen.

Maybe it was partially his fault, not truly realizing how high his emotions ran but the way you had shot to your feet, legs only barely holding you up and your first thought was getting back to the arena as quickly as you can, completely disregarding the state you were in all for the sake of…what? Getting a glimpse of your idol? At what cost?

Whatever it was, he would not stand for your recklessness and blind loyalty to the point where you will endanger yourself.

But no matter how hard he tries, his words doesn’t reach you and the mounting frustration builds until it has the both of you screaming at each other.

“Can you just lay off?! I’m fine!”

“You can barely hold yourself up! I’m not letting you put yourself in danger!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“Y/N LOOK AT ME!”

That was the last straw for Jimin, hands grasped on either of your shoulders as if he could shake some sense into you. You’re both panting, out of breath from the exertion but you’re finally looking at him. He takes in the way your pupils tremble, whether from fright or from nerves, and the way they shine as if with unshed tears.

Why?

There’s a desperation in them, so intense that it almost scares Jimin but no matter how much he gazes into your irises, the question still remains….

“Why….?”

He whispers unconsciously, the one word ringing loud between you, even above the echoing cheers. You don’t respond immediately, overtaken by a flurry of emotions that flit through your eyes so quickly that Jimin has trouble discerning them. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, sentences starting but dying before you can get the rest of the words trapped in your throat out until ultimately, you give up.

You turn away, eyes downcast as he hears you utter weakly, “Forget it…Please, you— you wouldn’t understand….”

He freezes, the statement seeming to pierce through him with a flooding of realizations; the images of you all starstruck as you watch Jimin, the idol, performing come rushing back to him so vividly it’s like he’s reliving it again. And it’s then that he is reminded of the fact —

It’s Jimin who dances with such poise and grace.

Jimin who sings with a voice that entrances thousands, millions.

Jimin who shines on stage, with a sweet smile, a gentle aura and a warm heart.

Not him.

No, he won’t ever be as good as the original Jimin. Especially not now, given how he’s not even sure what he is anymore.

He notices your hand clenching tightly at your side, how withdrawn you are from him and it’s made clear that he's not winning this fight – maybe even foolishly thinking he had that chance to begin with.

He steps back, away from you in resignation, acceptance. “You’re right…. I wouldn’t…”

With nothing more to say, you leave and he only watches until you disappear from his sights. Left to his thoughts, he retreats back into the dark of night, a place of comfort and familiarity.

Perhaps it’s better this way, to have you long for and love the image of idol Jimin, someone much more fitting to be a light in your life and for him to remain the shadow that follows you from afar. This way, you'll be much happier.

Even when, deep down, he wishes so selfishly for you to call him by his true name.

[jametartt]

interview tag ! ✨

the rules are to answer questions and tag some blogs you are contractually obligated to know better :)

i was tagged by @leondaltons ty flor 💕💕💕 i did this yesterday but on sieblog so i’m doing it again and changing answers to spice things up 💅🏼😂

gender: female

star sign: taurus sun hello im boring chill <3

height: 1.76 m (i swear everytime i convert it i get a different result lmfao it’s either 5′8 or 5′9?)

time currently: 12:20pm

birthday: april 21st

favorite band/group(s): i don’t really have a fave since one direction are no more DJFKS anything classic rock/grunge and pop-rock/pop is cool and,,, i guess,,,,,, BTS,,,,, (flor you are not allowed to say anything.)

favourite solo artist(s): easy peasy it’s hozier <3

song stuck in your head: MIC Drop and that cool wellerman song i keep seeing on dash

last show you binged: bridgerton, but last night i speed-rewatched a couple fairy tail arcs

when you created your blog: oooh i think somewhere in 2013/2014? 

last thing you googled: “how much is 1.76m in feet” ASHJDK does that count? otherwise it’s “jungkook blonde”

other blogs: bobbymckenze (interactive fiction & visual novels), katsukibakougo (animanga), daenyara (writing advice and multifandom fanfiction), darcyelizabeth (just a personal archive, untagged and messy af lmao), fabulaeinteractive (another main; for my original story and characters)

why i chose my URL: i like to change url every so often to reflect my current obsession lmao so yea stan seojun

how many people are you following: 661

how many followers do you have: 818

average hours of sleep: anything between 3 and 10 nkjd normally around 7

lucky number: 13? not lucky, i just think it’s cool

instruments: ik like,, maybe 10 guitar chords. and yeah flute too, i always forget that’s an instrument SDJKFHKJD anyway it was mandatory in school so everyone plays it 😂 i uh guess i’m a decent singer? but i’ve got no range

favourite food: anything with spices or cheese or meet jfgjkg idk right now i’m really in the mood for gobi manchurian but i’m too lazy to fry :/

favourite song: any song from shrek will do

dream trip: anywhere in Asia, don’t care where exactly. and new zealand. and canada. 

what i am currently wearing: sweatpants and a t-shirt and a fluffy robe lolll my lockdown look is sexy ik 

dream job: wife of a rich person <3

nationality: italian

tagging @simplerat @the-canary @capfalcon @benhargrieves @zavens @spiderrpcrker (you don’t have to do it but HI FRIENDS 💖💖💖 hope you’re all doing okay!)

[whump-princess]

Do you have any ideas for a whumpee getting kidnapped (drugged/bashed over the head)? I can’t seem to find many kidnapped whumpee prompts ;;

🖤Hi friend, let me see what I can come up with... And I do love a good kidnapping. So firstly going off of your suggestions....

Whumpee being drugged is always fun. Some kind of injection, an anesthetic, the needle plunged into the neck is a classic. The stumbling and clasping, not even given enough time to realize what's happened.

Tranquilizers darts. They only have enough time to realize they had been shot with a dart, that someone is after them, maybe get a few feet trying to run and pass out. I think there's a different type of tranquilizer, you would have to do some research if you wanted to be really accurate.

I kinda like when they see whumper just before passing out, they know it’s them but it’s too late to try and fight or run, cuz their limbs are giving out, everything’s spinning and the world is going black.

Other drugs like roofies might work, too.

The chloroform cloth is favored a classic but it takes a minute to knock a person out, not like in the movies, plenty of time for them to struggle. But when it does start to kick in and the struggle dies down, they fall limp in whumper’s arms and their eyes flutter shut. mmm

Getting knocked out. Smacked over the head with a bat, the butt of a gun, a brick or some other blunt object that whumper grabs on a spur. The whole scene of whumpee collapsing, being dragged or picked up, tossed over whumper’s shoulder, carried bridal style and hauled away.

Getting mugged by the whumper’s goonies and taken.

Grabbed from behind, a hand clasped over their mouth, an arm around their waist pinning their arms, the kicking and squirming in whumper’s in grasp and dragged away. Love when whumpee puts up a good fight but they are no match to whumper.

Tossed into a getaway car and taken without a trace.

A knife held to whumpee’s neck, a Gun pressed up against their back. “I have a gun, if you scream I'll kill you. We’re gonna go for a little ride, you and me.”

Tossed into the trunk of a car is great, tied up or not. (Preferably tied and gagged.) banging on the roof of the trunk, screaming for help, trying to kick it open to no avail. It’s dark and maybe it’s really hot because it’s summer. Maybe it’s really cold cuz its winter. The trunk is finally opened and they flinch as the light from the outside slips in. Grabbed and pulled out of the car, thrown to the ground hauled into some sketchy building.

The fear of not knowing where they are being taken, who took them if they don't have an idea already and what will be down to them.

Whumpee’s wrists tied, arms tied behind their back, duck tape over their mouth, gagged, blindfolded or a cloth over their head. 

Blindfolded, they can hear their kidnappers bickering. “Hey careful, Boss wants them in perfect condition” and “lets have some fun with them first.”

Or whumpee willingly getting into the car with whumper because they threatened to hurt caregiver if they didn't. Or they already have a caregiver, they roll down the window just enough for them to see caregiver tied up and gagged in the back seat. “Get in or you'll never see them again.” Caregivers pleads are muffled, they shake their head hoping whumpee won't comply.

Whumpee just walking along the street, minding their own business and a car pulls up next to them, someone jumps out and grabs them, everything happens so fast they wouldn’t even have time to scream or run. 

“You wanna see my puppy?? It's right down this dark alley.” Lolll or “I got some candy in my van, do you want some??” Just kidding lol

~~~

“Tag your it” by Melanie Martinez. A song about being kidnapped lol

And I have a story time! When I was in elementary school, I was walking home from my friend's house across the street. It was almost dark out and my mom watched me walk home from the window. A car pulled up and asked me if I knew where someone lived. I said “uhh no??” They asked me something else, I don't really remember. My mom saw and yelled “get away from that car!!” So I went inside and they drove off.  And I really didn't think much of it back then. Looking back now that could have ended up badly and it scares me to think about. I mean I was obviously a child, and why would a child know directions to where some random person lived?

Yup and now I'm writing kidnapping prompts lmao

Hope this helped, friend. Happy whumping!