#Designer toy awards

[cats2019forthenintendoswitch]

I know movie awards are meaningless but I do really hope Barbie gets absolutely zero wins. "But think about the annoying thinkpieces!" we already have annoying AND racist thinkpieces because it had 8 nominations rather than 10 you've gotta become evil at some point.

[twistedlovelines]

who in the twst cast lets you put a ribbon on it. (Heartlsabyul, Savannaclaw)

NSFW, MDNI, gn! reader <3

(Octavinelle, Scarabia) (Pomefiore, Ignihyde) (Diasomnia, Rollo, Crewel)

Heartslabyul

Riddle - He's. a bit hesitant at first but he's into it once you do tie the silk around his cock and kiss the tip <3 Makes him feel special and cared for, and will allow you to try out different designs on him, but he has a fondness for the red ribbon with white lace trim <3

Trey - Laughs a bit at first because it sounds like a trend Cater would mention, but tries it out because you asked. Not super fond of the feeling of silk and satin against his cock, but he seems more receptive to lace...

Cater - Lets you try it without question. Would post it on his Magicam if it wouldn't have him banned but take cute pictures and spends time editing them so that you can have a collection of them on your phone <3 He'll even design a custom ribbon with you if you ask!

Ace - Refuses vehemently at first, is ashamedly horny once you fasten it around him. Makes stupid jokes ("what's the point if it's gonna get ruined," etc) to try and delay you from doing it, but he whimpers when you tighten it just a touch.

Deuce - He wasn't quite sure why it appealed to you- he's never really thought of his dick as pretty before you had ever told him as much- but he's pleasantly surprised when you try it out. Is even more into it if you play into his desire to be an honor student and treat the ribbon like an award <3

Savannaclaw

Leona - Scoffs at the idea of you tying a bow around his cock like a toy, but eventually relents if you beg enough. He does Not want to feel silk or satin on his dick, though, so offer him a ribbon made of something like muslin or he'll shred some designer clothes for you instead.

Ruggie - Is fascinated. He makes a bit of fun at first, but melts a bit at how focused you look when tying a neat little bow around his cock, and how it looks with his cum splattered on it. Will half-jokingly bring it up in the future whenever he comes across some pretty scraps of fabric.

Jack - Is also another one who protests because he thinks it's excessive, but really enjoys the stimulation around his cock when it's tied snugly against him. Will absolutely refuse any pictures though, he paid attention to the lectures on internet safety as a kid-

a/n: will be doing the other dorms, but lmk if you want me to elaborate! <33

[ozzgin]

A collection of doodles, memes and comics featuring monsters!

Monsters

Reverse octopus hybrid

Chubby Monsters

Zzy [Character Design]

Circus Merman [Character Design]

Octopus Hybrid [Character Design]

Lion!Hybrid and Tiger!Hybrid [Character Design]

Loan Shark x Blåhaj

Loan Shark flex [Rent-A-Monster]

Interviewing Monsters [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

The creation of Sprout [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

Zzy Pole Dancing Animation

Hucow Husband

Demon Girl Doodle

Slime Girl Suggestive Doodle

Comics/Memes

Monster under your bed guide

Big monster, goofy Reader

Shy monster, dominant Reader

Free Ice Cream

Monstermania RAW

Monster Fucker Awards

Guess the monster fucker

Monster D-Print

Sea Slug Boyfriend

Zombie!Househusband

Shark Facts [Shark Loan Shark]

Bath Time [Shapeshifter]

Cooked Food [Shapeshifter]

Surprise encounter [Monster under your bed]

Stuffed toy jealousy [Monster Harem]

Horny repellent [Zzy]

Teddy Bear horror [Asylum Spider]

Clown Nose [Vampire Clown]

Blowing the horn [Vampire Clown]

Work Pest [Ghost Harem]

Special Seat [Dragon Guardian]

Reader Inserts

How to hold your human guide

You're not the father! [Monster harem]

Sleepover [Monster harem]

Breeding Kink [Monster Harem]

Crowned Spouse Reader

Reader chilling in a monstrous mouth

Handholding your monster boyfriend

How to lewd a skeleton boyfriend

Tentacle parts at the workplace + Part 2

House monster encounter [House Monster]

Reader with poor eyesight [House Monster]

Caught in the act [House Monster]

Room Service Reader [Monster Hotel Meme]

Monster Birthday Cake [Monster Author]

Monster Picnic [Forest Entity]

Reader with allergies [Forest Entity]

Gangbang Milestone [Monster Streaming]

Mating Habits [Octopus Hybrid]

Holiday Headpats [Shark Loan Shark]

Kindergarten Sign-up [Devil]

Mean Dog Reader [Monster Marriage]

Daos holding you [Werewolf]

Protecting the Asylum Spider

Smooching the Asylum Spider

Meeting the neighbors [Bull Hybrid]

Chameleon viewer [Monster Streaming]

Walking home [Rent-A-Monster]

Monster Tutor [Rent-A-Monster]

Monster Ride [Deer Hybrid]

Centaur Bellyriding

Misc

Monster Fudger Genealogy Tree

Monster fucking would work for me because...

Bruised cervix

Adopt-a-Y/N

Monster!Reader

A monster fucker's thirst

Hucow Barista Husband [Cow Hybrid]

Trying on clothes [Monster Streaming]

[estellan0vella]

More Than Enough Time: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.6K

CW: Anxiety, Menace Jisung, Secret Simp Minho

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The room is alive with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter that slices through the warm air of the grand banquet hall. The dim, golden glow of chandeliers drips overhead, casting a soft light across the elegantly dressed guests.

You sit at the round table, nervously smoothing your hands over the silk of your champagne-coloured gown. Every so often, your fingers toy with the sapphire-encrusted hairpin holding your hair in place, a gift from your grandmother. It's more than a piece of jewellery; it's a talisman tonight, something to cling to.

Beside you, Jisung, your best friend, fidgets in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. He's dressed in a sleek black suit that contrasts nicely with his hair, but despite the confident exterior, you know he's just as anxious as you are. But for once, it feels like your nerves are trying to outdo his.

"Fuck, why did I agree to this?" Jisung mutters under his breath, glancing at you with wide eyes. "I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to stand up there and give a speech, I might just throw up all over the stage."

You force a chuckle, though it feels weak in your throat. "Join the club. I feel like my stomach's doing backflips. What if I trip in these shoes? What if I can't say anything at all and I just stand there like a fucking idiot?"

Jisung snorts, giving you a sympathetic look. "We're both fucked."

Across from you, Bang Chan, the Alpha Phi fraternity president, leans back in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His black hair is slicked back, giving him a polished, suave look that almost distracts from the fact that he's one of the rowdiest guys you know. He gives you both a grin that's way too confident for your liking.

"Relax," Chan says. "You guys are gonna crush it. You wrote that article like badasses, now just get up there and take the damn award."

Jisung glares at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Football Star. You literally thrive on people staring at you."

"Exactly," Chan grins wider. "Which is why you should listen to me."

You shift in your seat, glancing around the table. You're surrounded by Alpha Phi members tonight, all of whom seem a lot more comfortable in their skin than you feel in yours.

Hyunjin sits next to Chan, looking ridiculously perfect as always. His long black hair falls just past his shoulders, and he's tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table while staring off into the distance. He's receiving an award tonight too, for something in the arts, and though he looks calm, you can see his jaw clenching every few seconds.

"Stop staring at the program," Hyunjin mutters to you without even glancing your way. "It's not gonna change."

You blink, realizing that you've been staring at the folded piece of paper in front of you, the one listing all the awards for the night. Yours and Jisung's, The Innovative Journalism Award, is still about fifteen minutes away, and the waiting is fucking killing you.

"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Felix, sitting on the other side of Jisung, notices your stress. He gives you a soft, warm smile, his freckles standing out against his fair skin. "You'll do fine, Y/N. We all believe in you."

"Yeah," Jeongin chimes in from the end of the table. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. He's getting an award too, something for fashion design. "We all know you're the smartest one here, so just relax, okay?"

You nod, but the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. It's not just about the award. Sure, winning an award for the article you and Jisung wrote, a deep dive into the theory that Jack the Ripper might have been a woman, is huge.

It's the culmination of months of research, late nights, and too many cups of coffee. But the idea of standing in front of a room full of people, having all eyes on you, waiting for you to say something intelligent... it's suffocating.

Minho, who's been quiet up until now, finally speaks. He's seated directly across from you, his deep cherry red hair gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. "You'll be fine," he says simply, his voice calm and steady. "Just breathe."

You meet his gaze for a second longer than you intend to, feeling the weight of his words. Minho is always like this. Quietly confident, never too loud or overbearing. He's the type who can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, even when you're pretty fucking sure it's not.

"You make it sound so easy," you mutter, breaking the eye contact and taking a quick sip of your drink, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

Hyunjin shifts beside you, his gaze flickering to the stage. "It's easy for Minho because he's never nervous. Must be nice to be so fucking chill all the time."

Minho shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. "Just a talent, I guess."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Well, share some of that talent with us because I feel like I'm about to shit myself."

There's a round of laughter at the table, but you can't join in. The knot in your stomach tightens as the minutes tick by. Your hands, now resting on the table, feel clammy. The silk of your gown is suddenly too heavy, clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel trapped. You know no one else can hear your heart pounding, but it feels deafening in your own ears.

You glance at the stage again, watching as the current award is being presented to some group for their contributions to environmental science. You're not even paying attention to the speech, just counting down the minutes, waiting for your turn. You can feel it creeping up on you. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest, the shallow breaths, the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of this room.

Suddenly, it's too much. The noise, the lights, the heat. You need air. Now.

"I—uh—I need to use the restroom," you stammer, pushing your chair back.

Jisung glances at you, concern flashing in his eyes, but he nods. "You good?"

You nod quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just nerves."

Before anyone can stop you, you're on your feet, weaving through the tables and out of the banquet hall. The moment you step into the hallway, the cool air hits your skin, and it's a relief, but only for a second. Your heels click against the marble floor as you make your way down the corridor, your breath coming in shallow gasps now.

You find a small side room and slip inside, closing the door behind you. The silence is almost jarring after the noise of the banquet hall, but you're grateful for it. You lean against the door, pressing one hand to your stomach and the other to your forehead. The room feels like it's spinning, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whisper to yourself, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

You yank the sapphire hairpin out of your hair, letting your carefully pinned-up style fall apart, the soft strands brushing against your bare shoulders. The pin feels cold in your hand, a grounding sensation, but it's not enough to stop the wave of anxiety crashing over you.

Your stomach twists painfully, and you press harder against it, as if that will somehow make it stop. But it's not working. Nothing's working.

You lean over slightly, bracing yourself on your knees, trying to remember what the hell you're supposed to do in moments like this. Breathe. You're supposed to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Simple. Easy. Except it's not.

Back in the hall, the crowd shifts with anticipation as the MC steps up to the podium, smiling widely at the gathered guests.

"And now, the recipients of this year's Innovative Journalism Award. For their brilliant work on the investigative article delving into the theory that Jack the Ripper may have been a woman, please welcome Han Jisung and Y/N L/N!"

There's a pause. Jisung's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he hears your name. He looks over to the seat you left empty minutes ago, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him.

"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up.

The nerves that were already gnawing at him double in intensity. His best friend isn't there to share the load, and now, he's completely on the spot. He glances over at Minho, who's been silently watching him.

Minho, though still seated, leans over slightly. "Where the hell is Y/N?"

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his heart racing. "She, uh... she went to the restroom or something. She's been freaking out all night. I think she might be having one of her moments, man."

Minho's expression darkens slightly with concern, and he pushes his chair back. "I'll go find her."

"Wait, wait," Jisung hisses, grabbing Minho's wrist as he's about to stand. "What the fuck do I say to them up there?"

Minho glances toward the stage where the MC is starting to look a little confused, waiting for someone to approach. "Make up some bullshit. Tell them she had to take a phone call or something, just so they don't start asking too many fucking questions."

Jisung frowns, his anxiety doubling. "Dude, I can't do this shit on my own."

Minho's eyes soften for a second, something almost rare to see from him. "I know. But you've got this. Just give her the credit she deserves, take the award, and make sure someone films it so she can see it later. Chan will do that. I'll make sure she's okay."

Jisung clenches his fists for a moment, feeling the pressure crushing him. The thought of going up there alone, without you, makes him feel like he's about to pass out. But when he looks into Minho's eyes, he knows he's right. You're the priority right now.

"Alright," Jisung says finally, his voice tight with nerves. "Just... just make sure Y/N's okay, alright? You know how she gets with this kind of shit."

"I'll handle it," Minho nods, his voice low but firm. He claps Jisung on the shoulder. "Now go get the fucking award."

Jisung exhales sharply, watching as Minho slips away from the table, moving swiftly through the hall. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he has to do next.

"Chan," Jisung mutters to his friend, who is still seated at the table, looking between him and the stage.

"Yeah?"

"Film this for Y/N, alright? Minho's going to find her."

Chan raises an eyebrow but nods, pulling out his phone without a word. Jisung swallows down the rising panic and heads toward the stage, his steps feeling heavy as the crowd watches him.

Minho doesn't waste time as he leaves the banquet hall, moving swiftly down the corridor. His steps echo softly in the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the award ceremony still filtering through the door behind him.

He's seen you spiral like this before, and his heart tightens in his chest. You're tough as hell most of the time, but when the anxiety hits, it hits hard. Minho knows that look in your eyes all too well. The panic, the overwhelming urge to escape. He's watched you, time and again, try to fight it, to shove it down, but sometimes, it's just too much.

You're not the type to cry during these moments; that's not how your panic works. Instead, you go silent, withdraw, pull yourself in so tight that it's like you're trying to disappear. Minho's learned to recognize the signs, the little tells. Like how you start fidgeting with your hair or that sapphire hairpin you always wear when you're stressed. The one that belonged to your grandmother. It's your good luck charm, though tonight it seems like it's doing little to stave off the rising storm inside you.

As Minho searches for you, he opens door after door, moving quickly but not frantically. His mind stays focused, methodical. He doesn't need to be panicked; that won't help you. He knows you well enough to know where you'd go in moments like this. Somewhere quiet, somewhere empty.

Finally, he reaches a small room at the end of the hallway, and when he pushes the door open, he sees you.

You're pacing back and forth, your gown swishing gently as you move. One hand is pressed to your forehead, the other to your stomach, like you're trying to physically hold yourself together. Your breathing is shallow, quick, and your eyes are wide with that familiar look of dread.

Minho's heart breaks a little as he watches you. You look so vulnerable, so unlike the confident woman you usually are. Yet, at the same time, there's something undeniably beautiful about you, even now. Even in the middle of your anxiety, you manage to carry a grace that makes his chest tighten for entirely different reasons. But now's not the time for that.

He steps into the doorway and knocks gently on the frame. "Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, using the nickname he's reserved just for you.

You look up, startled at first, but then you see it's Minho. A small, shaky breath leaves your lips. "Hey, Minho," you murmur, your voice quieter than usual.

Minho takes a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him, sealing off the rest of the world. "You doing alright?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah... I'm fine," you lie, but the strain in your voice gives you away. "I just... I don't want to go up there."

He nods, stepping closer to you, not crowding your space but just enough to make sure you know he's there. "I know," he says quietly.

He reaches out, gently placing his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin there. His thumb traces over your pulse point, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing.

"It's okay. Jisung's up there right now, telling them you had to step out for an important phone call. No one's gonna make a big deal about it."

You blink at him, processing his words. "He did?"

"Yeah," Minho confirms, his voice soothing. "Chan's filming it too, so you'll still get to see the moment you're credited for the work. Don't worry about it. You don't need to put yourself through that shit."

You let out a small breath, your shoulders sagging with relief. The pressure in your chest eases slightly, though the tightness in your stomach remains. Minho's thumb continues its gentle rhythm on your neck, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

Suddenly, Minho pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you, firm but gentle, and he presses his cheek against yours. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his embrace, catches you off guard for a second, but then you relax into him. He smells like something warm and comforting, and you breathe it in, your arms coming up to grip his shoulders as you rest your head against his.

He holds you tightly, his cheek still pressed against yours, and rocks you slightly, back and forth. It's the same thing he does for Jisung when he's panicking, the pressure of the hug helping to suppress the nervous system, calming everything down.

Minho doesn't say anything for a while, just keeps holding you, his cheek brushing yours, his thumb still moving gently on the back of your neck. His breathing is calm, steady, and before long, you find your own breathing starting to match his.

The scent of your mango and passionfruit body spray lingers in the air, and Minho can't help but smile a little to himself. He's always adored that scent on you. It's light and sweet, just like you, and being this close to you, holding you like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest. But he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, it's about you, not him.

"You're crashing with Jisung at the frat tonight, right?" Minho asks after a moment, his voice low and calm.

You nod against him. "Yeah, that was the plan."

Minho pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Let's get you back then. Fuck these fancy assholes. You earned your award, you don't need to torture yourself by staying here. Take those torture devices off your feet, too. They're not doing you any favours."

You glance down at your stilettos, your brows furrowing. "I should've worn wedges. I hate these fucking shoes."

Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers already working on the small buckles of your stilettos. "Next time, wear the wedges. I know you prefer them."

You watch as he carefully unbuckles your shoes, slipping them off your feet one at a time. His movements are gentle, and something about the simple act of him helping you out of your heels brings another wave of calm. He stands back up, holding your shoes in one hand, giving you a small smirk. "Better?"

"Yeah," you murmur, wiggling your toes against the cool floor. "Better."

Minho slips his suit jacket off and hands it to you. "Here, put this on. It'll help with the cold when we head back."

You take the jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. It's too big, but the weight of it is comforting, and the scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, making you feel a little more secure.

Before you can say anything else, Minho pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number. He holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Yo, Felix," he says when the call connects. "I'm taking Y/N back to the frat. She's okay, but she needs to get out of here. You guys good?"

There's a muffled response on the other end of the line, and Minho nods. "Cool. Tell Jisung I found her, and we'll meet you all back at the house later." Another pause and Minho chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know you were planning on ditching after Hyunjin and Jeongin get their awards. We'll see you guys then."

He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here."

Without waiting for you to argue, Minho crouches down, turning his back toward you. "Get on."

You blink in surprise. "What?"

"Get on," he repeats, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I'm giving you a piggyback. Your feet are gonna hurt like hell if you walk back barefoot."

You hesitate for a second, feeling a little self-conscious, but the look in Minho's eyes is so earnest, so full of quiet understanding, that you don't argue. You slip your arms around his neck, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. The weight of the world seems to fall away as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your arms wrapped loosely around him.

As he starts walking, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air hit your face as you exit the building. The campus is quiet at this time of night, only the sound of Minho's footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

"Feel better?" he asks after a few moments, his voice soft.

"Yeah," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Minho. I just... I couldn't handle it in there."

"I know," he replies gently. "And that's fine. There's no point in torturing yourself for an award you already earned. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

You nod against him, feeling a little lighter with every step. The anxiety that had been clawing at your chest earlier is slowly dissipating, and you can focus on the steady rhythm of Minho's breathing, the warmth of his back against your chest. He carries you across campus with ease, his hands never faltering as he supports you.

"You know," Minho says after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet, "next time you feel like this, don't wait until it gets so bad, alright? Just grab me, or Jisung, or any of us. We've got you."

You smile slightly, your fingers curling a little tighter around his shoulders. "I'll try."

"You better," he says, a teasing note in his voice, though there's still that underlying sincerity that makes your heart warm. "Because if I have to chase you down in the middle of every fancy event, I'm gonna start charging you for these piggyback rides."

You laugh softly, the sound feeling good in your chest. "Deal. I'll make sure to pay you in pizza."

"Now we're talking."

The rest of the walk is quiet, comfortable. You can feel the weight of the night lifting off your shoulders as you approach the Alpha Phi house. By the time you reach the front door, you feel almost like yourself again, thanks to Minho and his steady presence.

When he finally sets you down in front of the house, he gives you a small smile. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling more grateful than you can express. "Not so bad at all."

Minho grins at you as he unlocks the door to the Alpha Phi house, holding it open for you to step inside. The familiar warmth of the frat house surrounds you, a stark contrast to the cold, fancy banquet hall you'd just escaped from. The moment you cross the threshold, some of the leftover tension in your body melts away.

"Come on," Minho says, his voice low and relaxed, the same voice that had been grounding you since he found you spiralling. "Let's get you something to drink."

You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the house's lights making the space feel cosy, almost like home. The tension from the evening still clings to you a little, but Minho's presence beside you is like a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting back into panic.

When you enter the kitchen, Minho heads straight for the fridge, glancing over his shoulder at you. "What's your poison tonight? You look like you could use something strong."

You laugh softly, settling onto one of the barstools at the island, adjusting your floor-length gown so it drapes neatly around you. "Surprise me."

Minho pulls out a bottle of pineapple juice and a bottle of vodka from the fridge, giving you a wink before he grabs a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He makes quick work of mixing your drink, pouring a generous amount of vodka into the glass before topping it off with juice.

He slides your drink across the counter, the clink of the glass against the marble catching your attention. "Vodka pineapple for the lady," he says, raising his own glass. "And a double JD for me because, fuck, we've earned it."

You chuckle, taking the glass and sipping it. The sweetness of the pineapple juice mixed with the vodka goes down smoothly, and you feel some of the remaining tension in your chest loosen. Minho takes a sip of his own drink, watching you with a soft smile.

"You know," he says after a moment, leaning against the counter, "if it helps at all, you were definitely the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you can't help but smile. "You're full of shit, Minho."

"I'm serious," he insists, his eyes twinkling with amusement but also sincerity. "The moment you walked into the hall in that dress, I'm pretty sure every guy there forgot why the fuck they were even attending. It was all eyes on you."

You shake your head, sipping your drink again to hide the fact that his words make you feel more flustered than you care to admit. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but thanks."

Minho smirks, taking another sip of his drink before his gaze softens again. "It was also pretty fucking sweet how Jisung's pocket square and tie matched your dress."

You grin, finally letting out a genuine laugh at that. "Yeah, he insisted. Said best friends and co-journalists have to match, so everyone knows we're the shit."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head in that fond, almost exasperated way he always does when he talks about Jisung. "Of course he did."

You're about to take another sip of your drink when you suddenly remember something, and your smile falters. "Shit... I forgot my hairpin in the room."

Minho doesn't hesitate. "Don't worry about it. I'll text Chan, and he'll grab it for you before they leave."

You nod, a little relieved. "Thanks. I'd hate to lose it. It was my grandmother's."

Minho pulls out his phone, already typing a message to Chan. As he sends it, he leans against the counter again, taking another long sip of his drink. "So," he says, his voice casual, "to be completely honest, I was supposed to read your article, but I never got around to it. You know, being a veterinary science major kind of takes up all my fucking time."

He's lying, and you have no idea. Minho read that article the moment it was published, studied every word like it was the most important thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

He remembers the excitement in your voice when you first started talking about the project with Jisung, and he couldn't help but get curious. So, yeah, he read it, but he doesn't want to give that away. He wants you to light up and tell him about it yourself, to see the passion in your eyes as you explain your work.

Your face brightens at his interest, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the counter as you take another sip of your drink.

"Oh my God, you're missing out," you say, your voice already more animated. "Jisung and I have this theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a woman. A midwife, to be specific."

Minho raises an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "A midwife? That's a hell of a theory. Go on."

You nod, excited now, the exhaustion from the evening momentarily forgotten. "Right? Think about it. A midwife would have had access to all the knowledge needed to perform those surgical cuts on the victims. And during that time, no one would've questioned a woman walking around in blood-covered clothes. She could've been out at all hours, and people would've just assumed she was delivering a baby or something."

Minho swirls the drink in his glass, watching you intently as you explain. "That actually makes a lot of fucking sense. Victorian sexism would've worked in her favour."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. "Back then, no one would've suspected a woman. They were too focused on looking for some deranged man, and the police reports were all written from a male perspective. They overlooked so many possibilities simply because they didn't think a woman could be capable of something so gruesome."

Minho takes another sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "That's pretty fucking brilliant. What about the eyewitness reports, though? There was at least one person who claimed to see a man near one of the crime scenes, right?"

You nod, already ready to dive into that part of the discussion. "Yeah, but Jisung and I argued that just because someone was in the area doesn't mean they were guilty. There are always people wandering around in cities, especially in a place like Whitechapel during that time. Plus, eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, especially in the dark, in a chaotic place like that."

Minho's lips curl into a small smile as he watches you. You're practically glowing now, completely immersed in the subject matter. This is exactly why he brought it up.

Seeing you like this, seeing you so passionate, it's what he loves most about you. Though he'd never admit that out loud. He sets his glass down and leans in a little closer.

"So, basically," he says, keeping his tone light and teasing, "you're saying Jack the Ripper might've just been an extremely intelligent, sadistic woman who knew how to avoid suspicion by playing into society's sexist expectations."

"Exactly!" you say again, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just a theory, of course, but it fits so many of the facts. And honestly, it makes a lot more sense than half the other theories out there."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm impressed. That's some seriously clever shit. I'm pissed I didn't read the article now."

You smirk, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, you can still read it. It's not going anywhere."

"I will," Minho says, though he already knows it word for word. "You and Jisung killed it."

Your smile softens at the compliment, and you feel that warmth in your chest again. The same one that always seems to appear when Minho says things like this. He has a way of making you feel proud of your work, of reminding you that you're capable, even when you don't always believe it yourself.

You glance down at your glass, twirling it in your hands. "Thanks, Minho. It means a lot, really. It was... it was a tough project, but we're both really proud of how it turned out."

"As you should be," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You've always been fucking brilliant. That's why it pisses me off when you get in your head about shit."

You laugh softly, though there's a note of vulnerability in your voice. "Yeah, well, getting in my head is kind of my speciality."

Minho's expression softens, and for a moment, the teasing drops. He steps around the island, standing in front of you as he leans on the counter, his hands resting on the marble surface.

"Listen," he says, his voice lower now, more serious. "I know tonight was rough, but don't let it get to you. You've already proven yourself, not just with the award, but with everything you've done. And you've got people who have your back, alright?"

You blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Minho's always been good at saying the right thing, but this feels different. You meet his gaze, and there's something there, something you can't quite place. It's intense but not overwhelming, grounding in a way that makes your chest feel warm.

"I... yeah," you murmur, your voice softer. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze, and then he breaks the moment with a small grin. "Now, how about we ditch this heavy shit and enjoy the rest of the night? We've got the whole house to ourselves for a bit."

You laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Minho taps the counter. "I'll top up your drink."

The door to the Alpha Phi house swings open, and the sound of footsteps fills the hallway as the rest of the guys file in after the awards ceremony. You hear Jisung before you see him, his voice cutting through the noise with its usual mixture of excitement and concern.

"Y/N!"

The moment he spots you sitting calmly at the counter, his eyes soften with relief, but his feet don't slow down. He rushes over, crossing the room in a few long strides, and immediately starts fussing over you like a mother hen.

"Shit, are you okay? You should've texted me or something. I would've ditched and come with you."

You can't help but smile at the sight of him. Jisung's still wearing the matching pocket square and tie that he insisted on wearing to match your champagne-coloured gown, though his suit jacket is a little rumpled now from the event. His hair sticks up in odd directions, no doubt from running his fingers through it a thousand times since you left the hall. He looks stressed, but the sight is comforting in its familiarity. You let him fuss, knowing that this is just what he does. What you do for each other.

"I'm fine, Ji," you assure him, though your voice is soft. "Promise."

Jisung's eyes narrow slightly, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders as he bends down to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head. "No, you're not," he mumbles, his voice quieter now, almost like he's talking to himself. "It felt wrong up there without you. I fucking hated it."

You reach up and pat his arms, which are still wrapped around you, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm sorry."

Jisung shakes his head, pressing his cheek to your hair. "No, I should've ditched with you. You know I hate leaving you alone when you're feeling like that. I shouldn't have left you with Minho, that stinky prick."

"Oi!" Minho's voice cuts in from across the kitchen, where he's leaning casually against the counter, drink in hand. He looks amused rather than offended, a teasing grin on his face. "Who do you think you're talking about, you cheeky fucker?"

You giggle at the exchange, and Jisung, ever the dramatic one, tightens his hold on you as if Minho's words have personally wounded him. "I'm talking about you, you smelly asshole," he says, sticking his tongue out at Minho while burying his face further into your hair, clearly unbothered by his friend's retort.

Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing else, instead taking another sip of his drink and shaking his head in mock disbelief. He watches the two of you with a small smile on his lips, though there's something else lingering in his eyes. Something softer, more careful. He doesn't push the banter further, choosing to stay quiet for now.

The door opens again, and Chan enters the kitchen, looking as polished as ever despite the long night. He's still got his suit jacket on, though it's clear he's ready to relax as he pulls out his phone, glancing around at the group.

"Oi, Y/N," he says, catching your attention. "You left something behind."

Chan reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out your grandmother's sapphire-encrusted hairpin. Relief floods through you as you realize you'd completely forgotten about it being in a bubble of comfort with Minho. You reach out to take it, but before you can, Minho steps forward and gently takes it from Chan's hand.

"Here," Minho says softly, his voice lacking the usual teasing tone as he approaches you. "Let me."

Jisung watches the exchange with narrowed eyes, his arms still wrapped around you. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the tension in the way his body stiffens slightly as Minho steps in closer.

Minho's touch is gentle as he slides the hairpin back into your hair, taking care to make sure it's secure. His fingers brush against your scalp, sending a soft shiver down your spine, but you ignore the feeling. When he's done, he gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than usual.

"Perfect," Minho says softly, stepping back.

Before you can thank him, Jisung immediately shoos him away, his hands fluttering in the air as if to physically push Minho aside. "Alright, alright, back off, Romeo. I've got it from here."

Minho rolls his eyes again, but there's an amused smirk on his face as he steps back toward the counter, grabbing his drink. "You're so fucking possessive, Ji."

Jisung doesn't bother responding to that, instead wrapping his arms more securely around your shoulders as he glares at Minho's back. You don't miss the way Jisung's grip tightens slightly, though he's still careful not to make you uncomfortable. He's always been overprotective when it comes to you, but lately, it's been more intense. Especially when it comes to Minho.

"Chan, have we got anything to drink?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through the tension as he and Jeongin finally make their way into the kitchen, both of them looking ready to relax after the long night.

Chan nods, already pulling out glasses from the cupboard. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want? We've got plenty left from the last party."

As the group starts grabbing drinks and chatting amongst themselves, Minho silently pours you another drink, setting it in front of you with a small smile. You notice that he doesn't say anything, just gives you a look that says he's checking in without being too obvious about it.

Jisung, meanwhile, is still fussing over you, his arms around your shoulders like a security blanket. He doesn't let go, not even when you shift slightly in your seat to take a sip of your drink. He stays close, watching you with worried eyes as if he's waiting for you to show any sign of distress.

"Ji, I'm okay," you assure him again, though your voice is soft. "Really."

He huffs, not fully convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that."

Chan finishes pouring drinks for everyone and turns to the group with a grin, raising his glass. "Alright, before we get too fucked up, let's do a toast. To Jeongin and Hyunjin for their awards, and of course, to Y/N and Jisung for killing it with that award-winning article."

The group raises their glasses in agreement, and Minho tilts his glass toward you, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cheers to Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You smile back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you like a comforting blanket. It's moments like this, when he's not teasing or throwing sarcastic comments, that you feel a strange connection to him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. But before you can dwell on it, Jisung pulls you closer, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"To us," Jisung mutters, his voice soft in your ear. "But mostly to you."

You chuckle, clinking your glass against his. "To us."

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, drinks, and the comfortable warmth of being around friends.

Eventually, Jisung drags you up the stairs, leading you through the dimly lit hallway toward his room. After the long, chaotic night of the awards ceremony, and the endless rounds of small talk and congratulations, this is the sanctuary you need. Being around Jisung, your best friend, feels like hitting reset on a night that left your emotions tangled.

"Come on, let's chill," he says as he pushes open his door. His room is just as messy as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, textbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, and the faint glow of those stars you stuck to his ceiling two months ago.

You flop onto his bed beside him, both of you lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling. The stars glow faintly in the dark, their soft light casting a surreal calm over the room.

"Remember when you made me put these fucking stars up?" Jisung says, his voice half-teasing, half-nostalgic. "I thought they were gonna look stupid, but..."

"They're kind of nice, right?" you finish for him, smirking. "See? You should listen to me more often."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is like, a one-time thing."

The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the distant hum of voices from downstairs, but up here, it's just the two of you. It's moments like this, with Jisung, that you appreciate the ease of your friendship. There's no need to fill every second with conversation. Just being here, next to each other, is enough.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the tension from the night melt away. But then, Jisung, ever the one to break a peaceful moment with something unexpected, speaks up again.

"You know," he starts, and you immediately know there's something coming. His tone is a little too casual. "I was thinking... maybe I should set you up with Felix or Chan."

Your eyes snap open, turning your head toward him, caught completely off guard. "What?"

He's lying there next to you, staring up at the ceiling like he didn't just drop a bombshell on you.

"I'm serious," he continues, his voice still annoyingly nonchalant. "They both think you're amazing and beautiful. Felix especially, he's been crushing on you for ages."

You blink at him, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely surprised. "Uh... I don't know, Ji. I mean, maybe, but I'd have to think about it."

Jisung shrugs, still staring at the ceiling like this is no big deal. "No pressure. I just think you and Felix could be really good together. He's sweet, thoughtful. Plus, he thinks you're like, Aphrodite-level beautiful."

You snort. "Aphrodite? Really?"

"I'm dead fucking serious," Jisung says, turning his head to look at you. "I've heard him talk about you. The dude practically melts when you're around."

You can't help but smile a little at the thought. Felix has always been a close friend, but you never really thought about him in that way. He's easy to talk to, kind, and funny in that understated way of his.

"I don't know," you say, rolling onto your back again, staring at the stars. "Felix is really sweet, but has he ever actually said anything? Like, to me?"

Jisung shakes his head, waving the question away like it's a minor detail. "No, but come on, he's shy. Attraction is the start, right? You two have good chemistry, and he's definitely into you."

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You've always been close with Felix, and while the idea of a date with him doesn't sound bad, it feels unexpected. Like something you hadn't even considered before tonight.

"And Chan?" you ask, more to fill the silence than because you're seriously considering it.

Jisung shrugs again. "Chan's great too, but he's more focused on school and music right now. I think Felix is the better choice if you're looking for something real, you know?"

You can't help but laugh at how serious Jisung sounds. "Since when are you the expert on my love life?"

"Hey," he protests, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms. "I'm your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know what's good for you."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Of course, you do."

"I'm just saying," Jisung continues, grinning now, "one date with Felix won't hurt. See where things go. If it works out, great. If not, no big deal."

You sigh, leaning back on your elbows. He's persistent, you'll give him that. But there's something about the way he's pushing this that makes you wonder if there's more to it than just wanting to set you up with Felix.

"Okay," you say finally, letting out a deep breath. "Fine. One date won't hurt."

Jisung beams at you, clearly pleased with himself. "Fuck yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow and make sure everything's set for tomorrow night."

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up fully now. "Wait, tomorrow night? You're already planning this?"

"Yup," Jisung says, completely unbothered by your incredulity. "I'll talk to Felix in the morning. He's probably just waiting for an excuse to ask you out anyway."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Jisung just grins, leaning back on his hands. "You love me."

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. "Yeah, yeah."

The room falls into another comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the guys downstairs still faintly audible. You stare up at the stars again, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Felix is sweet, and he's always been a good friend. Maybe this date could be something more.

But before you can think too much about it, Jisung speaks up again.

"Felix is seriously into you, you know," he says, his voice softer now. "He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. You're the kind of person he'd fall hard for."

You glance over at Jisung, wondering where this sudden emotional shift is coming from. "You're really sure about this, huh?"

Jisung nods, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. I just want you to be with someone who sees how fucking amazing you are. And Felix is one of the few guys I know who would treat you the way you deserve."

There's something about the way he says it that makes your chest tighten. Jisung has always been protective of you, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but it comes from a place of genuine care. You know he just wants the best for you.

"Okay," you say quietly, more to reassure him than anything else. "If you're that sure, I'll give it a shot."

Jisung breaks into a grin again, clearly relieved. "Good. Trust me, you won't regret it."

What neither of you knows is that Minho is standing just outside the door, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides. He's heard every word of the conversation, and it's taking everything in him to not burst into the room right now.

Minho knows exactly what Jisung is doing. He's pushing Felix toward you because he doesn't trust Minho. And it pisses him off more than he can even articulate. Jisung thinks Minho is going to break your heart, that he's just some player who doesn't care. But Jisung has no idea how hard Minho's fallen for you, how much he's been holding back because he's been waiting for the right moment to tell you.

And now, hearing Jisung practically set you up with Felix? It's infuriating.

Minho grits his teeth, leaning against the wall as he listens to your conversation. He could go in there, stop this whole thing, and tell you how he really feels. But he knows Jisung won't make that easy. Jisung will fight him every step of the way because he doesn't think Minho is good enough for you.

But Jisung is wrong. Minho knows he is.

He'll prove it. One way or another.

The restaurant is buzzing with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. You and Felix walk through the dimly lit space, a hostess guiding you to a table near the window. The atmosphere is intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The soft glow of the candles on the table reflects off the wine glasses, making the whole thing feel like the date Jisung had envisioned.

Except, it's not.

You tug at the edge of your black mid-thigh blazer dress, adjusting it slightly as you sit down, your thigh-high stiletto boots brushing against the leg of the chair. The sapphire-encrusted hairpin in your hair catches the light, just like the sapphire necklace resting against your collarbone.

Your grandmother's heirlooms feel like a protective layer tonight, a way to steady your nerves even though Felix has never been the type to make you feel anxious.

Felix slides into the seat across from you, and for a second, you take in his outfit: black slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, his hands adorned with chunky silver rings. He looks good. And that, combined with the fact that you're both dressed like you're on the cover of a fashion magazine, only adds to the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay," Felix starts, his eyebrows raising as he takes a long look around the room. "This is fucking weird, right?"

You breathe out a laugh, feeling the tension melt slightly. "So fucking weird. What the fuck was Jisung thinking?"

Felix leans back, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. He cornered me, said something about how I think you're beautiful, and then put two and two together and somehow got ten."

"He's been pushing this since last night. Something about how we'd be 'perfect' together. I guess he thought your opinion on my looks was enough for a love story."

Felix laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. "Well, to be fair, I do think you're beautiful. I have eyes, don't I? But that doesn't mean I've been harbouring some secret crush on you."

"Thank God," you sigh, leaning back in your chair with relief. "So we can just treat this like a regular friends' dinner?"

Felix raises his glass of wine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "To a friends' dinner."

You clink glasses, the soft ting sounding like an agreement between the two of you. Already, the night feels lighter. The weirdness of it all slowly dissipates as you both sip your wine and settle into familiar conversation.

"So," you say, gesturing around the restaurant, "if this is supposed to be a 'friends' dinner,' let's make the most of it. What's new with you? Still managing to ace all your classes while simultaneously being everyone's favourite stress baker?"

Felix grins, his eyes sparkling as he leans forward. "Of course. My cookies are keeping half the campus sane, honestly. The other half's still in denial."

You laugh, knowing all too well how Felix's baked goods have gained a sort of cult following around school. He's practically famous for them.

"Speaking of which," he continues, "I made those macadamia nut ones you like the other day. Jisung stole half of them before I could bring them over."

"Typical," you say, shaking your head. "I'll have to fight him for the rest. You know how much I love those."

The conversation flows naturally as you both dive into your usual back-and-forth. The wine loosens you up a bit, and soon enough, you're laughing loudly with Felix, completely relaxed. It feels like any other hangout, the weird pretence of a date"falling away.

The waiter comes by to check on you, refilling your wine glasses as you both finish the first bottle. Felix eyes the bottle in the waiter's hands, then glances at you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"You know," he says, his voice lowering as if he's letting you in on some grand secret. "We could get a free bottle of wine right now."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

Felix grins like he's thought of the most brilliant plan. He slides one of the many rings off his fingers, stands up, and before you can even process what's happening, he gets down on one knee in front of you.

The people at nearby tables glance over, curious, but Felix ignores them, focusing entirely on you.

"Y/N," he says in an exaggeratedly serious voice, holding up the ring like it's some priceless artefact. "Will you make me the happiest guy in this restaurant and marry me?"

The wine has quelled any anxiety you might've felt earlier, so instead of feeling awkward, you decide to play along.

"Yes!" you exclaim dramatically, sticking out your hand for him to slide the ring onto your finger. "Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tables around you erupt into applause, people clapping and cheering as if they just witnessed the most romantic proposal of the century. Felix stands up, a smirk on his face, and the waiter, looking entirely caught up in the moment, hurries over to offer congratulations.

"Congrats!" the waiter says, looking genuinely excited. "Let me get you two a complimentary bottle of our finest wine to celebrate."

You barely hold back your laughter as the waiter rushes off. Felix slides back into his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

"I can't believe that worked," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Felix raises his glass again, this time with a proud look in his eyes. "To my fake fiancée and free wine."

You clink glasses again, still giggling as you drink to your ridiculous plan. Just when you think it couldn't get better, a couple from a nearby table leans over and says, "We've got your bill tonight. Congrats again!"

You and Felix exchange wide-eyed looks, barely managing to hold back more laughter. "Holy shit," Felix mutters under his breath. "We just hit the jackpot."

As you drink your newly acquired bottle of wine, the night only becomes more fun. The awkwardness that had hung over the evening at the start is long gone, replaced by pure enjoyment. You and Felix settle back into conversation as the restaurant continues to buzz around you.

"So," Felix says after a sip of wine, his gaze drifting toward the sapphire and diamond necklace around your neck. "Tell me about the heirlooms. That necklace and the pin. They've gotta be worth something, right?"

You nod, tracing the edge of your necklace absentmindedly. "Yeah, they are. My grandmother left them to me. She had a lot of money."

Felix leans forward, intrigued. "I had no idea. So, like, how much are we talking?"

You smile, not bothered by his curiosity. Felix has always been straightforward, and you appreciate that about him. "Well, she was a CEO. She raised me after my parents died, so I inherited pretty much everything. I've got shares in her company and in the other businesses she invested in."

Felix's eyes widen slightly. "So you're rich."

You shrug, sipping your wine. "I guess I am."

"Damn," Felix says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Jisung never mentioned that part."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, I don't go around announcing it. I'm not really the 'rich heiress' type, you know?"

Felix nods, understanding. "Makes sense. Still, that's kind of badass. You've got all this wealth and power, and you're still just you."

You smile, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thanks, Lix."

The conversation drifts after that, touching on light topics as you both finish the second bottle of wine. The restaurant is still bustling, but it feels like you and Felix are in your own little world, enjoying the absurdity of the evening.

After a while, Felix leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know why Jisung set us up, right?"

You raise an eyebrow, your mind still pleasantly buzzed from the wine. "Because he's an idiot who can't read people at all?"

Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Besides that."

You tilt your head, genuinely curious. "No, enlighten me."

Felix grins, but there's something knowing in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself. I won't ruin the fun."

You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. "You're such a dick."

Felix just laughs, finishing the last of his wine before setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "Hey, I'm just saying, Jisung had his reasons. You'll figure it out eventually."

You shake your head, still smiling as you lean back in your chair. The night has been a whirlwind of laughter, fake proposals, and more wine than you expected. Whatever Jisung's reasons were, you're just glad the evening turned into something fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been.

Felix pulls the car up to your apartment complex, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between the two of you. . It had turned into a night you didn't expect, but somehow, it felt exactly right.

Felix glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Well, that was fun."

You chuckle, shaking your head as you gather your bag and open the door. "So much fun. I don't know how we pulled that off."

Felix's grin is playful, his silver rings catching the dim light. "What can I say? We make a pretty good fake couple."

You laugh again, stepping out of the car and leaning back in through the open window. "Goodnight, Felix. Thanks for the... whatever that was."

Felix smirks. "It was an unforgettable friends' dinner. You know, one for the history books."

"Goodnight, Lix," you repeat, still grinning as you wave.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, watching you head toward the building.

As you walk to your apartment, you feel lighter than you have in days. Felix always has that effect on you. He makes everything seem easier, less complicated. The night could've been weird and awkward, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed: fun, simple, and completely free of stress. Jisung's matchmaking might've been misguided, but at least it had resulted in a memorable night with one of your closest friends.

You unlock your door and step inside, immediately kicking off your boots with a sigh of relief. Your apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively restaurant you just left. It feels good to be home, and you head straight to the kitchen, still feeling the buzz of the wine as you pour yourself another glass. The cool liquid slides down your throat, grounding you after such a surreal evening.

As you set the glass down on the counter, you reach up to take off your sapphire necklace, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. You remove the matching hairpin, carefully setting it down next to the necklace before turning your attention to the silver rings on your fingers. You begin slipping them off one by one, the rhythmic movement soothing after such an eventful night.

But then, there's a knock at your door.

You pause, glancing toward the front door with a furrowed brow. It's late, and you're not expecting anyone. Curiosity piqued, you set down the last of your rings and walk toward the door, glass of wine still in hand.

When you open it, you're greeted by a sight you weren't expecting: Minho, standing in the hallway, his expression unreadable, but there's something intense in his eyes.

"Minho?" you say, your voice a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face, then down to your lips. "Did you kiss him?"

You blink, confused. "What?"

Minho takes a step closer, his voice more insistent. "Did you kiss Felix?"

The question catches you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, you're not sure what to say. "No," you answer honestly, "I didn't kiss Felix."

Minho exhales sharply, like he's been holding his breath. "Okay... okay, good."

You raise an eyebrow, still confused by his sudden appearance and his line of questioning. "Minho, what the hell is this about? Why are you asking me about Felix?"

Minho meets your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Because I still have a chance."

"A chance?" you repeat, feeling even more lost in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

Minho runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, but not at you—more like at the situation. His voice softens when he speaks again, though there's still that intensity behind it. "I lied."

You tilt your head, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, you lied?"

Minho lets out a frustrated breath, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "About your article. I said I didn't read it, remember? When we were in the kitchen last night, after the awards thing? I told you I didn't get around to reading it."

You nod slowly, still not sure where this is going. "Yeah...?"

"I lied," Minho says, meeting your gaze again. "I read it the second it was published. I've read it more than once, actually. Like an embarrassing amount of times. I said I hadn't read it because I saw how stressed you were about everything, and we were alone, and I knew if I asked you about it, you'd light up. And I wanted to be the one responsible for that."

You stare at him, the weight of his confession sinking in slowly. Minho, always so cocky and teasing, is suddenly standing in front of you, admitting that he'd lied just to see you happy. The realization hits you harder than you expected.

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. "Minho..."

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and his voice is quieter now. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. Minho walks into your apartment, the atmosphere between you shifting. He turns to face you, his expression serious, more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.

"I like you," he says, his voice steady. "Like, I really like you. And Jisung knows that. He hates it because he thinks I'm going to break your heart, but I'm not. I swear, I wouldn't do that."

You feel your pulse quicken at his words, your mind racing to catch up. "Minho, I..."

He holds up a hand, cutting you off gently. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, and it's really distracting me. So I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay."

Your breath catches in your throat, but the answer comes easily. "Yeah, that's okay."

Minho doesn't waste any more time. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, as if he's waiting for some kind of permission. But then you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, and the kiss deepens.

Minho's hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. The kiss is slow but intense, each movement deliberate, like he's savouring the moment. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his grip tightening slightly as his hands roam over your back.

You break the kiss for just a second, gasping for air, but Minho doesn't let you go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks.

Minho's forehead rests gently against yours, and the air between you is thick with tension. Your heart is racing, every nerve on edge, and just when you think the silence will swallow the moment, you feel a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

It's ridiculous, the whole situation. The intensity of the kiss, the way Minho's hands feel so warm and grounding on your waist. You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and give him a mischievous look.

"Oh, by the way," you say, trying to keep a straight face, "Felix and I got engaged."

Minho blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" He stares at you, confusion clear in his eyes, as if trying to piece together whether you're serious or not.

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yep," you nod, keeping up the act. "I'm set to marry Felix. So, congratulations, we're now having an affair."

Minho's brow furrows for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. A grin spreads across his lips. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I'm the dirty little secret now?"

You smirk, feeling a little more daring. "Exactly. I'm cheating on my fiancé with you. How scandalous."

He hums, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. "I don't mind being the side guy. Adds some spice, don't you think?" He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Just keep this between us, yeah? Don't want Felix to find out."

The playfulness between you two eases the tension, and you laugh softly, completely forgetting about everything else for a moment. You're about to respond when, out of nowhere, the door to your apartment swings open with a loud bang, making you both freeze.

"No! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!"

You and Minho quickly step apart, your heart racing for a different reason now. Jisung looks at the two of you with wide, panicked eyes, like he's just walked into his worst nightmare. His hands fly up in the air as he groans dramatically, pacing a few steps.

"This is exactly why I set you up with Felix!" Jisung exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Minho. "I knew this would happen! And now he's got his STD-riddled claws into you!"

Minho's jaw drops in disbelief. "Okay, hold the fuck up," he says, hands raised in defence. "I have no STDs, and I'd really like to clear that up before we go any further with this conversation."

You take a slow, deep breath, pressing your lips together to hold back a laugh. Jisung, however, is far from amused. He looks like he's about to have a full-on breakdown as he turns to you, his face full of concern.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice urgent. "He's going to break your heart! Minho doesn't do relationships—he just flirts and messes around. He's like a... a... heartbreaker! A professional one!"

Minho rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Jisung, clearly fed up. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Jisung, I've liked her this entire time, and you know that!" His voice is sharp, filled with frustration. "You're the one who set her up with Felix, knowing damn well how I feel!"

Jisung glares right back, crossing his arms over his chest like a protective barrier. "I did it because I know you, Minho. You're all charming and smooth when you want something, but then you bail as soon as it gets serious. I'm not letting that happen to Y/N."

You shake your head, walking over to grab your glass of wine from the counter. The tension between Minho and Jisung has been building, and now it's finally spilling over. You sip your wine, deciding that the best course of action is to stay out of it and let them bicker it out.

Minho takes a deep breath, his frustration visible. "You think I'm going to hurt her? Jisung, you've got no idea how hard it's been trying to be patient with this shit. You set her up with Felix like some overprotective dad, and now you walk in here acting like you're the fucking saviour of the day."

Jisung's face turns redder, and he steps forward, eyes blazing. "You're my best friend, and so is Y/N! I've seen what you do to girls, and I'm not letting you do that to her."

Minho doesn't back down, stepping forward as well, the space between them shrinking fast. "You think I'm like that with her? Do you even know how long I've been waiting to make a move, only for you to play matchmaker with Felix?"

Jisung's mouth opens and closes like a fish, clearly lost for words.

You, on the other hand, take another slow sip of your wine. The back-and-forth between them is almost entertaining. They're like two kids fighting over a toy, except this time, you're the toy, which is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"Look," Minho says, his voice a little calmer now but still firm, "I'm not playing around with her. I've been serious about this, and the fact that you think I'm just going to fuck her over pisses me off."

Jisung throws his hands in the air again, clearly exasperated. "Of course I think that! You're Minho! You don't do relationships!"

Minho rubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm. "God, you're an idiot sometimes. This isn't just some hookup, okay?"

Jisung doesn't seem convinced. "You expect me to believe that? After everything?"

At this point, you've had enough. You walk over to Jisung, wine glass still in hand, and without a word, you pour the rest of the wine into his mouth. He tries to protest, but you give him no choice. He swallows the wine, sputtering slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"Go sit in the living room," you say, pushing him toward the door with more force than you probably should. "We'll deal with you later."

Jisung stumbles into the living room, still flustered and clearly not done with the argument. But before he can say anything else, you shut the door and lock it, effectively trapping him inside.

Minho watches the whole thing unfold with an amused smile. "You know it's going to take him about an hour to realize he can unlock that from the inside, right?"

You shrug, turning back to face him with a grin. "That gives us about an hour of peace."

Minho's smirk widens as he steps forward, his hands sliding around your waist again. He pulls you close, and the heat between you reignites instantly. "There's a lot I can do in an hour," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.

Your heart skips a beat as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Oh yeah?" you whisper, your voice daring.

He kisses you again, this time with more urgency, and you melt into it, your body pressing against his. His hands slide down to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he carries you through the apartment.

"Bedroom?" he asks between kisses, his voice low and filled with need.

"Second door," you manage to say, your voice breathless.

Minho kicks open the door to your bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights as he carries you inside. The door swings shut behind you with a satisfying thud, and with that, the world outside ceases to exist.

All that matters now is the heat between you, the feel of his hands on your skin, and the promise of what's to come in the next hour.

Minho kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, and in that moment, you know that an hour is more than enough time.

[inthelittlewood]

Did u go to university? I’m curious what your major was/would be :3

Yuppers, I did a uni course but the classes themselves were actually in a college building and format. It was a new experimental thing at the time where Nottingham Trent Uni were accrediting it and instead of really informal lecture structures, it was taught like a usual 30 class, multi module academic year.

The real charm of the course was just about every tutor was still an active freelancer or owner of a business relating to radio, web design, graphic design etc. - the course was simply named Multimedia ha

Year 1, we did a module on each topic. Year 2 we trim those down, then Year 3 we focused solely on one (or two if they complemented one another well). I zero'ed in on Radio Presenting and web design. I'd already been doing online radio on Habbo fansites then towards the end of my first year I finally joined Trent Uni's student station Fly FM. I somehow nabbed Best Newcomer at the national Student Radio Awards with only one term under my belt. That really elevated my passion for that industry and I went on to get nominated for Best Male Presenter in subsequent years.

Then I graduated, knew I wasn't passionate about web design but had to be an adult and 'get a real job', self sabotaged or ghosted some interviews in protest looking back on it LOL then I landed a gig in radio quite quickly doing evenings Mon - Thurs. Met yogs some time later and they offered me a room in the office. I was undecided, but when I got home from Bristol, the literal next day the station told me they were making cuts and I was axed in that. Threw all my energies in to it and still going to this day

Bit of a sporadic journey but each branch of media I studied and honed means I'm so self sufficient as a creator (sometimes to a fault, I know I should delegate more)

Before uni I did join a course which promised game design elements alongside web design etc. and it was super disappointing. We used Visual Basic *shudder* to make Guess Who and that was the extent of it lol - I did toy with the idea of going to Demontfort uni because that had a legit full fledged game course which was very unique at the time, but radio took a hold of my interest in that period keeping me closer to home

[starleavess]

best toy design award Goes to!

[space-noods]

Childhood Friend Eren x Reader, modern AU

childhood friend Eren who was a rather dull and listless kid.

childhood friend Eren whose only friends are his step-sister and the neighborhood nerd.

childhood friend Eren who had little drive or ambition. While he had some strange attraction to violence when playing with toys, he would find no purpose in playing and move on.

childhood friend Eren whose attention is piqued when he sees the house next door be bought. Armin, Mikasa and him spend the day watching from the window facing the house. There they see an older lady and a very young girl.

childhood friend Eren who is not drawn to you like Armin and Mikasa are. Armin hopes you enjoy reading and the ocean. He also live with his grandparents and feels a kinship to you even before he met you. Mikasa hopes she can finally indulge in her more creative side with you. She hopes having another girl around means someone can empathize with her. Eren doesn’t really care for you. He just hopes you’re not boring.

childhood friend Eren who didn’t meet you until a week later after his mom forced him to bring your grandma a fruit basket. Mikasa was at a martial arts class, so he had to go alone.

childhood friend Eren who is surprised to see his own eyes when you open the door. Not necessarily the color, but rather the jaded apathetic expression you wore. And for the first time, Eren felt a spark.

childhood friend Eren who enters your house with a rather eclectic interior design. Trinkets and crochet projects covering the living room. Through all that, he could see volleyball trophies and awards. You lead him all the way to your backyard and invite him to eat the fruits

“You know three people died here.”

You stared owlishly at him. “Did you kill them or what?”

And a smile forms on his lips. You were just like him.

childhood friend Eren who becomes attached to you immediately. He seeks your attention all the time. Despite your rather apathetic expression, he would drag from location to location. If he wanted to play in the sand pit, he would drag you and force you to play. If he wanted to eat snacks under the slide, he would drag you there too. You two were inseparable. His hand would always gravitate to yours.

childhood friend Eren who grows up glued to your hip. He forces you to be friends with Armin and Mikasa. Though, if he felt you were too close to them, he would drag you away. He would force you into sleepovers for as long as he could. Since your guardian was your grandmother, she wouldn’t monitor you too much. So she had no qualms with you and Eren sleeping in the same bed well into his teens. When Eren’s mom found you two sleeping together, she had told him he had to stop doing that. She essentially banned him from sleeping in the same bed as you. He moved sleepovers to your house instead. Your grandma didn’t mind, and you didn’t mind, so there was no problem right?

childhood friend Eren who does his best to support you in all your games. He would bring you water and often cheer you up.

childhood friend Eren who knew that you were a volleyball prodigy. And while he admired that, it was during your games that he realized that he was missing something. He didn’t know what, but he knew that it had to do something with you.

childhood friend Eren is proven right in his middle school years. This was an important game for you, as it would qualify you for nationals. With the reputation you had, many high schools were scouting you. This could change your future entirely. The more selfish part of Eren hoped that you would fail and follow him to the local high school.

childhood friend Eren who watched as you fight to carry your team. The disparity between your skills and your teammates was obvious. You dedicated so much time and effort into honing your skill. For the other girls, this was a recreational activity. For you, this was your life. So when their lack of training caught up with them in the game, you became frustrated. It was almost painful seeing you thrown your body around trying to reach the ball. If people weren’t wincing everytime you threw yourself, they would have been impressed with how you managed to keep the game going for so long. Eventually, you couldn’t keep up anymore. The ball began to fall more often on your court. You couldn’t reach it fast enough. No one was passing it right. It was all going wrong. Inevitably, you lost. And maybe if you managed to stay calm, you would have still been scouted. If you had taken some deep breathes and smiled away the pain, you probably would have been invited for a campus tour at an elite school. IF. But you didn’t. Instead you lashed out. At the loss of your team, the other team obviously begun to cheer. Your own teammates resigned with their loss and began heading to the benches. Not you. Yo u stayed kneeling on the floor, panting. Your knees bruised and your forearms a bright red. As the cheers died down, the spectators shifted their attention to you, still on the floor. Empathic views shifted to horrified as you started on a loud and angry tirade. You began to yell, pointing each of your teammates out: their flaws, their vices, their weaknesses. It didn’t even stop at them. Littered with curse words, you even insulted your coaches. You were ushered off the court. Eren should have felt angry on your behalf. He should have been embarrassed at your behavior. He should have felt anything other than what he was really feeling. Because what he was feeling was complete. Seeing your passion and anger struck a chord in him. The urge to fight resonated with him. He found his purpose. And it came from you.

childhood friend Eren who ignored Mikasa and Armin as they went to look at you. Instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off from the spot on the floor. The overflowing joy bubbled out of him in a maniacal laughter. He was right. You were just like him

——————————————————————————

Notes:

I know Eren feels a little OOC in this, but it’s largely based on the mini chapters that took place in the modern world. If I remember correctly, Eren was actually a very boring character, almost appearing like a background character. But in one scene, Ymir (the founding) appears to him. And I could go in depth to what it all that means, but to keep it concise I interpreted it as a “Eren isn’t Eren if he doesn’t have the anger he had in the Titan Universe.” Like part of what makes him him is the desire to fight, so when he saw MC ‘fight’ for something, it clicks in him (sorry if this part is kind of confusing. These thoughts have been marinating for a while)

[seeingivy]

award show etiquette

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: light mentions of paparazzi/stalking, SMAU!!!! hehehehe, some fun cameos (HEHEHEHE), eren being a jealous little baby, eren and y/n being so corny

an: enjoy :DDD (for some regular readers, play close attention to usernames)

previous part linked here

--

Things change in the next six months. You turn sixteen. Falco and Colt buy you a shiny acoustic guitar as a gift for you to start writing songs like you’ve always wanted. The guitar is nice, but the writing doesn’t go so well. You don’t land any new acting roles for your hiatus, but everyone else does. 

All in all, some parts of your dreams feel real, like you’re standing at the doorstep of everything that you ever wanted. But the setbacks are so debilitating sometimes it feels like you’re wasting your efforts. Plus, your dreams come with their own set of nightmares too. 

Attack on Titan truly does trend overnight - really gaining traction around the fifth episode. Whenever episodes air, almost everyone is on social media talking about it - live tweeting the scenes, commenting on how phenomenal the storyline, the acting, the costumes were, trying to guess what happens next. It was almost like a trend, becoming bigger and bigger by everyone talking about it, pointing out all the little details woven into the story, following the press junkets.

The reception of the show feels like a victory. Levi, Erwin, and Hange get praised on the daily and people fall in love with the cast fast. Despite receiving a horrendous first impression score from The Elms, they officially take away their initial criticisms and give a glowing recommendation of you after the airing of the third episode - going as far as calling you the cast member to watch out for. 

The show gets renewed for three more seasons by the eighth episode and suddenly you’re getting offers for things you have no idea about. You need a publicist, a makeup team, a personal designer, someone to control your social media presence and a manager for your next moves. Even though you're not even at that level.

It’s…taxing. You’re not really sure what you want to do next. You’re only sixteen - there’s only so much childhood left that you can cherish. But they all insist that this traction won’t come back and that you can’t fall off. There’s pressure to deliver, to keep the momentum going. 

You don’t mean to sound ungrateful. This is what you wanted, but it's far off from what you expected. Evey beyond the entire thing being stressful, it changes even the tiniest, miniscule details of your life - one’s you never even recognized as important before.

Because when you go back to school, you’re not sure what’s going on. Your usual friends treat you weirdly, people who had no idea you existed are going on about how you guys have always been great friends, no one talks to you unless it’s Attack on Titan related. And it’s not that you don’t love talking about it, because you do, but it feels weird to share and bring to your tiny little unimportant high school. 

You feel like a shiny, plastic toy, something people ogle in the hallways, but never touch or come near for posterity's sake. 

And when you leave school, there’s a flood of paparazzi waiting for you right outside, snapping pictures of you, Colt, and Falco as you wait on the block. And they follow you all the way home, taking a seat outside your house. You think it’s stalking. And surprisingly enough, the law doesn’t see it that way. 

Meaning you have to put up with the fact that they’re waiting for you every morning, following your moves like little vultures. And you’re not sure what’s so interesting about you checking your mail, but you’re advised against it, and suddenly you can’t. 

You can’t go to the park. Or the grocery store. Or even into your own backyard because in all senses of the word, they are kind of relentless. 

It feels harsh to say, but you feel like a prisoner. Like you’re watching life move on outside of you - kids biking down the pavement, Colt walking to the store, your neighbors mowing the lawn - and you never realized what a luxury mundane things like this were.

To be unknown, a face in a sea of people rather than a deer stuck in headlights, frozen where you are. Because the people you knew don’t see you the same way, and really, you’re not a stranger to anyone anymore. 

It sucks. It’s amazing. You hate it. You love it. The highs and the lows fluctuate so fast that sometimes you feel like you’re a crazy person - teetering from one place to another. Everyone loves your acting, but no one wants to sit with you at school during lunch. The paparazzi stay outside your house almost all day, everyday but you got invited to announce an award at the Savants Show. 

In some way, your feelings feel inherently wrong. Because this is some people’s dream, and it used to be yours too, but really you just want to go to the grocery store with your little brother and buy snacks. You want to talk to your friends at recess, not get asked random questions while you’re shoved into your car. 

Marco visits around the four month mark, after you confide in him that it hasn’t been the greatest. He spends a whole week with your family - teaching Falco how to play Go, Colt teaches him how to do card tricks, and the two of you spend all night talking about anything and everything. And you love him for it. Because really, you’re not the only one going through this. Sure, they were primed for this since they were little, but it’s nice to have someone who understands you by your side. 

And Eren calls you every single night, to the point where you’re both falling asleep on the phone together, his soft breathing lulling you to sleep every night. Some part of you feels guilty confiding in him, since he is on the set of a really big movie he’s filming right now, but he always assuages any guilt you have with his words.

“How was your day, Y/N?” he asks, nestled into a gray hoodie, the smallest tufts of his brown hair peeking out of the hood. 

He’s leaning against his headboard, his forearm resting against his head and his eyes shut closed. Because he’s six hours ahead of you, in Switzerland. And it’s the middle of the night. 

“Is your roommate there?” 

He laughs, his dimples appearing in the glow of the computer light. 

“He’s really mad at us about last night. He told me we need to stop giggling so late so he can get some “beauty sleep” or whatever.” 

“I don’t giggle. He must hate me.” 

“Oh, for sure. But Ry hates everyone.” 

“Rude.”

“I asked a question. How was your day, Y/N?” 

“Ah. It was okay, Eren. Same old.” 

His eyes flutter open and he leans forward, the concern washing over his eyes. And you hate when he does this, because really, it’s worse to have Eren pity you more than anything. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“Six days.” 

You smile, brushing down the ends of your hair. Right. Six days till you and Eren are together again. 

“Yeah. It feels like time passed by really fast.” 

“What are you talking about? It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen you. I’m not even sure what you look like anymore.” 

“Bullshit. You literally FaceTime me every single day, Eren.” 

“Still. It’ll be nice. To see you in person, to not have the Wifi lag because Coco is trying to play Roblox.” 

“He got banned the other day.” 

“For what?” 

“He censored a curse word, but still got banned because it picked it up.” 

“Rookie mistake, Falco. He can have my account if it’s that serious.” 

You both laugh, falling into a comfortable silence, as you stare at each other on the screen. The white light of the screen is doing little to illuminate Eren’s face in the dark room he’s sitting in and really, you can only make out the harsh figures on his face.

The bridge of his nose, the shape of his eyebrows, only one dimple, and his lips. And when he leans back, placing the phone on the side, as he nestles into his pillow, you put Eren to the side, typing away on your computer. When you glance over in a few minutes, he’s fast asleep, only the sounds of his breathing coming out of the phone. 

Six days.  

- 

As far as red carpets go, this has to be a memorable first. You arrive there at six o’clock, which is when the red carpet starts. Meaning the rest of the cast is already out there, getting pictures taken, doing interviews while your cab driver is Tokyo Drifting you through the streets of New York City.

The second you arrive, Mikasa’s styling team throws you into a frenzy. You’re attired into a long, flowing green dress, because the original outfit that you had picked out got lost in the airport debacle. 

Right. You would have been there on time if the universe was actually on your side for once. You were supposed to fly in on Thursday, with the rest of the Attack on Titan cast. You were all going to be staying together in a house near the awards show, so that you guys could get started on table reads this weekend before you start filming again next month. 

Except, your flight got delayed and you didn’t make it in time. And they accidentally lost your luggage in the time in between canceling your flight and scheduling you a new one. Which leaves you in your current dilemma, of walking onto the carpet an hour late. 

Somewhere in the middle of the carpet, a very antsy and anxious Eren Jaeger is doing press interviews. He’s styled in all black and a green tie, meant by his styling team to compliment the color of his eyes. He doesn’t get that entire thing, but does it anyway. 

“Do you have any news you can tell us about the next season of Attack on Titan?” 

Before Eren can respond, he feels a hand clamped over his mouth, Ymir standing behind him with a stern expression on her face. 

“Do not answer that, Eren.” grumbles Ymir, the interviewer laughing at the two of you. 

Eren rolls his eyes as he and Ymir stand side by side, the two of them answering questions from the interviewer. 

“Are you guys really friends outside of the set?” 

“No. Eren Jaeger is insufferable.” responds Ymir, Eren reaching over to smack her cheek as they both laugh. 

“Yes, we’re all really good friends. Some of us more than oth-” 

Ymir’s response is cut off by a loud sound of cheering, all of the photographers on that side of the carpet rushing to the front. And when he leans over the crowd of people to see you at the center, with all these cameras flashing at you, he can feel his heart thumping in his chest and an almost inevitable smile spreading across his face. 

It’s you. It’s really you - in real life and not on a shitty wifi phone screen but only ten feet away from him, looking like the sun. 

The entire thing is overstimulating. There’s almost a dozen camera’s flashing, all at one time. You’re trying your best to smile but all you can hear is clicking, twenty different people saying your name trying to get your attention, and your cheeks burning from keeping your smile in th3 same position as you flick your eyes around. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see it. The tufts of brown hair you have committed to memory. You look to your right to find Eren and Ymir smiling at you, the two of them giving you waves. And you turn back to the crowd, whisper a polite sorry, and run right into Ymir’s arms first. 

“Ymir, I missed you so much.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d miss me too.” 

You pull back, every unpleasant feeling in your chest accumulating for the past six months lessening at the warmth of someone so familiar, someone you love so much gleaming at you in your arms. Ymir rolls her eyes and pinches your cheek as she walks away, leaving you and Eren standing on the carpet. 

You can feel yourself smiling really big and you try your best to will it down, but the pure anticipation and adrenaline of the event, and Eren Jaeger, really standing in the flesh in front of you, stops any efforts you may have. 

“Hi Eren.” you whisper. 

“Hi Y/N.” he whispers back. 

You lean forward and lock your hands around his neck, to which he crushes you in his hold, the two of you giggling in each other's ears as you hug each other, cheeks slightly flushed. And for the rest of the carpet, you and Eren link arms, taking turns answering the interviewers questions and taking pictures together. 

“Do you guys like each other?” 

“I mean, I sure hope Eren likes me. We are best friends and all.” you respond. 

Eren reaches forward, smacking his palm against your forehead. 

“Shut up. You know I like you.” 

You and Eren feel a sudden weight on your shoulders, and in true menace form, Connie Springer is leaning against both of your frames. He leans forward into the microphone, grinning at the interviewer as he starts talking. 

“Oh, they like each other all right. They have all these little things they do on set that none of us are allowed to do with them. Like oh, you can’t eat ramen with Y/N that’s our thing. Or oh, you can’t get slushies with Eren, we’ve been doing that since we got here.” 

You lean forward and flick Connie on the forehead, as Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Are you jealous, Connie?” you ask. 

“No. I just want some of that bitch ass ramen you guys are always making.” 

Erwin and Levi walk up, the two of them pinching Connie’s cheek as he whines. 

“Language, Springer.” Levi mutters. 

He drops Connie’s ear and places his hand in your hair, giving you a warm smile. Erwin gives you a hearty hug before the two of them walk away, meeting Hange at the end of the carpet. 

You turn back to the interviewer, you and Eren answering final questions before walking away all together. The second you get away from her, Connie’s leaning down, crushing you in a hug and lifting you into the air. 

“I missed you yesterday.” Connie mutters, his breath tickling your ears. 

“I know, I was so sad to miss it. I really missed you guys too.”  You’re not entirely sure why - but Connie, Ymir, Eren, these comforting people after six months of hellscape are enough for the air to get tangled in your throat and the warm tears to start welling in your eyes. 

Connie swings his arm around Eren as he talks, smirking at the two of you. 

“Some of us missed you more than others.” Connie grins, poking Eren’s cheeks. 

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

“Eren pouted all day. Looked nearly depressed when he had to eat that measly ramen bowl by himself. Stared at pictures of you on his phone.” 

“I DIDN’T LOOK AT PICTURES OF HER ON MY PHONE.” Eren responds, now yanking Connie by the ear. 

Connie rolls his eyes as he runs off, leaving you and Eren to walk the last part of the red carpet together. 

Right before you make it into the venue, you feel a tugging on your dress, to be met with two kids who must be a few years younger than you, matching smiles on their faces. You and Eren crouch down, taking in their outfits

They’re dressed as you and Eren, from the show. With perfect green capes and a red scarf. Why are they watching your show? Seems a bit gory for their age. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” you say, holding out your hand. 

They both excitedly shake, stumbling over their words as they start talking. 

“Hi. I-I love you so much. You-you’re both so cool and we just-we love you so much we-” the girl starts. 

“We made-made you a gift.” the boy continues. 

Eren leans forward, holding his hand out, as he gives the two of them a warm smile. 

“You guys are too kind. Y/N and I really appreciate it, truly.” 

They place two friendship bracelets in your hands, which you and Eren immediately slide onto your hands. You and Eren take the time to give each of them a hug, making sure their parents are able to snap pictures, before you head back inside. 

When you’re inside the safe confines of the theater, you look down at the bracelets. Yours is green and Eren’s is pink. The beads in the middle of yours say “attack on eren” and the beads in the middle of Eren’s say “attack on y/n” - like your matching tag names on Twitter. 

“Hey. They accidentally switched them when they gave it to us. My bracelet says your name.” you say. 

“There’s no way they would give us the wrong ones.” 

“They could have gotten nervous. Why would I wear a bracelet with your name on it when you-” 

“I’m keeping this one.” he says, with a tone so definitive you don’t even want to respond. 

You and Eren hold your wrists out to admire them, the soft beads standing out against your fancy clothes. It’s simple. You love it. 

You reach down and tangle one of your hands with Eren’s. He squeezes three times. You squeeze back. 

And for the first time in six months, you feel at ease. 

- 

“Wait so, explain this to me one more time.” you ask, being met with eleven prepared faces staring back at you. 

“These are the Savant TV show awards. There are other ones for things like movies, music, and plays. Any show that is part of this cycle has to send names in to nominate for each award. Five are selected in each category and then a select group of people in the industry, we call them the Institute, usually vote on winners.” starts Bertholdt. 

“Okay. That makes sense. Is that how they pick triple threats too?” 

Eren’s hand is still locked in yours, hidden under the pleats of your dress. He squeezes three times at the mention of a triple threat and you get the message.

You got this.

“Well, triple threats are different. They’re kind of variable and get announced randomly. Some years you can have a lot of triple threats and some years none. But when they get picked, they announce the three pieces that made them a triple threat. Then they have to do this long and personal interview where they discuss their time in the industry - good, bad, all of it - and at whatever award show is next, they pick one of the three - singing, dancing, or acting - and perform a piece at the end of the show.” explains Annie, fidgeting with the ends of her perfectly curled hair. 

“Do we have any triple threats today?” you ask. 

“No. But besides triple threat performances, there’s also other performers and an ensemble showcase. Have you ever seen one?” asks Armin, leaning forward to pull Annie’s hands down from ruining her hair. 

“No. What’s that?” 

“Basically, each year the Savants pick a show to perform for an ensemble showcase. It’s the cast of the entire show, or just a select portion of it, and they usually perform a dance or sing a song related to the show. This year, it’s the cast of Blue Lock, the soccer show?” responds Armin.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” 

“They’re performing that song Get Your Head in the Game from that movie High School Musical? They’re all going to do a bunch of soccer tricks on stage while they sing the song is what I’ve heard. People usually relate it to the show they’re in some type of way.” says Armin

Before the rest of them can explain more, the lights dim and you focus your head to the front, the show starting. You don’t really recognize the hosts or anyone in the room - which to you is a sign that you really should start paying attention - and you try to focus on what they’re saying. 

They’re cracking jokes about different people in the industry, which Eren explains to you in your ear as they talk. What the jokes mean, who they’re talking about, what shows they’re from. They even crack a joke about you and Eren. 

“The cast of Attack on Titan is here tonight.” 

The statement is met with an array of cheers in the room, and in true Connie and Reiner fashion, they’re both standing up for no reason, bowing to the crowd. That just garners them both a cascading sound of laughter from the audience, which only gets louder when Erwin yanks Connie and Reiner down by the ear. 

“Getting to watch the story unfold, all the twists and turns - it’s almost impossible not to pay attention to such a thrilling story. I’m sure we can’t say the same for our hosting skills, because our sweet leads Y/N and Eren have been whispering in each other's ears the entire time instead of listening to us.” 

The light flashes in yours and Eren’s faces, the two of you with widened expressions as you laugh at everyone staring you down. And when Eren says, sorry what did you say? with a confused tone in his voice, the entire audience laughs and then they move on. 

Somewhere around a third of the way into the show, the usher comes to the seats, whispering in your ear that it’s time for you to come backstage. 

Right. You’re supposed to be presenting an award with another actor. And you totally forgot. 

You turn to your right to look at Eren and before you can even express the panic, he’s already settling you down. Eren Jaeger, mind reader. 

“You’ll be fine. You just have to stand there and present the award. He’s really weird but he’s nice most of the time.” 

"What? I can’t do this, Eren. They’re all going to be staring at me and I don’t even-” 

Mikasa and Bertholdt’s hands are on your shoulder, squeezing twice as the usher leads you along. You turn back to look at Eren, and he gives you a warm smile as you try to focus on the task at hand. 

When you get backstage, everyone is in a frenzy. There are so many different crew members running around - microphones in their ears, sound-checking mics, making sure that the video on the screen stops playing on time. It reminds you of the chaos on set that you like to watch, except this is entirely more nerve-wracking because of the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. 

You tap on the guy closest to you, a boy that can’t be much older than you with pink hair. 

“Hi. I’m supposed to present the award next, do you have any idea who I’m supposed to be presenting with?” 

“Ah. That would be Ryomen Sukuna.” 

“Oh. I’ve never heard of him.” 

He frowns, squinting his eyes at you as you lean forward. You take a second to take him in more closely, his perfectly fitted suit with a black tie. You’re not sure why, but you swear you know him from somewhere. 

“You’ve never heard of him? Ever?” 

You shake your head as he starts laughing, the grin on his face so wide. And before you can ask what’s so funny, they’re pushing you onto stage, the bright lights shining in your face. You scan the crowd for Eren, who mouths it’s okay before you and him start. 

You clear your throat as you turn to the guy, who you now realize is the same pink-haired guy from backstage. 

“Wait. What are you doing here?” 

He laughs - and the entire audience does too - as he turns to you, a devious grin in his eyes. He holds his hand out, which you return, as he introduces himself. 

“Hi Y/N. I’m Ryomen Sukuna.” 

You feel your eyes widen as he lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he continues. You can feel your mind running in circles as you clutch the envelope in your hand, zoning back in to pay attention to him. 

“You know, you and Eren spend all night giggling, talking about god knows what. Of course, this asshole never mentions me.” 

And then you remember. Pink hair, Ry. Ryomen Sukuna. He’s Eren’s roommate, from the movie he was just filming. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I remember now, you’re Eren’s roommate and-” 

“You’re standing here with me and you’re talking about Eren?” 

“Ah, I-” 

“You keep me up all night by calling Eren and you don’t even know my name. And then I'm trying to have a moment with you and you're talking about another guy?” 

He's doing a bit. Right. Because from what you could tell, almost everyone who presents an award does one. Maybe this is just his. 

“I'm sorry?” 

The entire audience laughs at your words and Sukuna rolls his eyes, saying something about how hard it is to impress girls these days, as he hands you a lollipop. 

“What’s this for?” 

“The people sitting in the front row, Y/N. It’s obviously for you.” he deadpans. 

“Oh, okay that’s kind of weird. Thanks!” 

The audience laughs as you unwrap the lollipop, handing the envelope to Sukuna so you can do it properly.

“It’s about that time. Ready to read the name, Y/N?” 

You nod as you take the lollipop out of your mouth, handing it to Sukuna and you focus on ripping the golden tape on the envelope. Except as you’re opening it, the entire crowd starts laughing and you’re not entirely sure why. 

“Am I that bad at opening this or something?” 

They laugh even more, which makes you turn to Sukuna for reassurance, which is when you see it. Sukuna just put your lollipop in his mouth. Like, the lollipop with your saliva all over it in his mouth. 

“Hey! I was eating that.” 

He pops it out of his mouth and holds it in between you, smirking at you. 

“Want it back, sweetheart?” 

You take it from his hands and shove it back into his mouth - which at this point, the audience is literally screaming at the two of you - as you open up the envelope. And when you read the name and hand the award over, you and Sukuna exit the stage, bickering as you get off. 

“You’re such a weirdo freak. I did want to eat that lollipop.” 

“Then eat it. There’s still some left, sweetheart,” he says, a joking tone present in his voice. 

“You’re so gross. That’s like literally sharing saliva.” 

“We can do that in other ways too if you want.” 

“Ew. Are you always like this?” 

You both laugh as you exit the stage, back into the panic behind the curtains. As people move around you and him, taking mic boxes off, you turn to him. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s start over. I’m Y/N L/N. No more sassing me because I forgot you name.” 

He gives you a glimmering smile, holding his hand out. 

“Okay, okay. Ryomen Sukuna. Call him in the middle of the night and I will do this again.” 

As you both continue talking, a group of people join him at his side, clearly his friends. Another boy with pink hair, who looks literally identical to him, a shorter boy with black spiky hair, and two girls - one with green hair and one with brown. 

They’re all yanking Sukuna by the ears, telling him that he - as always - is doing too much. 

The boy with pink hair turns to you, the look on his face apologetic. 

“He’s always like this. Menacing. We sincerely apologize.” 

You smile, holding your hand out to him as he repeats his name and the rest of them follow suit.. Itadori Yuuji. Megumi Fushiguro. Nobara Kugisaki and Maki Zenin. 

“We’re the cast of Jujutsu Kaisen.” responds Nobara, as she flicks Sukuna on the forehead. 

“Ah. I’m one of the cast members of-”

“Attack on Titan.” they all respond in unison, smiling at you. 

After a few minutes, you’re joined by a group of your own friends - Ymir, Reiner, Marco, and Eren - as well as Levi and a taller man with white hair. 

Marco and Ymir give you warm smiles and squeezes on the shoulder as they congratulate you for doing a good job, saying that the reception was really funny and that you and Sukuna are trending on Twitter. Eren's uncharacteristically silent, brooding in the corner. Before you can mention it, Sukuna beats you to it. 

“Eren. Do you need to take a shit?” says Sukuna, leaning forward to smile at him. 

“What?” Eren responds. 

“You look agitated as fuck. Like you have to take a shit.” 

Ymir and Reiner laugh, poking Eren’s cheeks and teasing him, as you move to the side, paying attention to Levi’s conversation. 

“All they do is cuss. I need to start actually punishing them or they’re going to end up cursing like sailors in a few years.” 

“Tell me about it, Satoru. Jean is actually horrible, I will genuinely wash his mouth out with soap the next time he says fuck near me.” 

Satoru. Satoru Gojo. You may not know many celebrities, but you sure know this one. 

He’s a triple threat. 

“When I got cast on a show with a bunch of kids, I didn’t realize I was going to become a father.” sighs Satoru, grinning at the group of them as he talks. 

“You’re not our father.” the group of them respond, breaking from their own conversations to shoot him down. 

Levi laughs as he looks down at you, placing a hand in your hair as you join their conversation. Satoru crouches down to your height, smiling at you as he talks. 

“Good job. That was real funny, kid.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“Are you as rude to Levi as my kids are to me?” Satoru asks. 

“We’re not your kids.” respond Megumi and Nobara, breaking from their conversation again. 

“He does kind of remind me of my dad! He always gives good advice on set and helps me and-” 

Levi crouches down, glaring at you. 

“I’m not your dad.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

Marco and Reiner walk over, holding onto Levi’s arms as they respond. 

“Yes, you are.” 

You all turn your heads to Satoru, who is now pouting. 

“They cast the wrong kids in my show. Mine are so ungrateful,” he says, leaning down to pinch Megumi’s ear, which he just returns by literally smacking Satoru off. 

You all laugh as you get directed back into your seats, as it’s time to present the next award. You wave them all goodbyes as you start walking in line with Eren, who you now realize you hadn’t talked to the entire time. His jaw is locked, an implacable look in his face. You reach down and tangle your hand with his, to which he finally looks over at you. 

“Hey. Was it okay?” 

He stops in his tracks, letting Ymir, Marco, and Reiner walk forward, as you stand in the outskirts of the curtain. 

“It was good, Y/N. Really good.” he sighs. 

“So why are you upset?” 

He frowns as he looks over at you, his mouth in a straight line. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“No it’s not, Eren. Just tell me!” 

“Imannoyedhekissedyourhand” he murmurs quickly, under his breath. 

“Sorry, what was that? It’s kind of loud in here.” 

“igotjealousseeingyouguysupthere.” he murmurs again, his cheeks turning red. 

You lean completely into his space, looking straight into his green eyes. 

“Sorry, Eren. One more time, yeah?” 

“I’m annoyed he kissed your hand! It made me jealous because that should have been me and not him and he’s just doing that because I-” 

Before he can finish, you start laughing, which stops Eren in his tracks and now he’s glaring at you. 

“Quit making fun of me, Y/N.”

“I’m not! It’s just so cute, Eren. You’re so-” 

“I’m glad you find my personal torture cute, Y/N.” 

“Personal torture? Did you get more dramatic from the last time I saw you?” 

“Imagine being me. I just watched an idiot, a real life blathering idiot like Sukuna, kiss your hand before I got to do it. And I was sitting next to Connie too. That’s so annoying and now everyone is going to make fun of me and-” 

And now you get it. He’s…jealous. Of Sukuna. From what Itadori and Maki told you, Sukuna’s kind of infamous for being a cheeky little shit, going about things as he pleases. And Eren’s feeling possessive because you’re best friends. Connie being a little bitch probably didn’t help matters either. 

You’re not sure where you garner up this uncharacteristic courage or boldness from, but you hold out your left hand to Eren.

“What? Trying to rub it in my face now? You’re worse than Ymir.” 

“No, no. Sukuna kissed my right hand. But he didn’t kiss my left, so you can just do it now.” 

You watch his eyes widen and his face turn positively red as he starts blabbering, awkwardly pushing his hands through his hair and teetering on his heels.

“Huh? What? You can’t just- you’re just saying that. This is weird. You’re-you? What? I can’t like- oh my god. What the-” 

You place one of your hands on his shoulder as you look at him, trying to muster the sweetest smile you can. 

“Eren. Please?” 

The ask makes him give in and he shakily places his hand in yours, lifting your knuckles against his mouth as he places a soft kiss in between your second and third knuckle. And when you smile at him again, positively gleaming, Eren curses your existence. He hates you for making him feel like this. 

“Screw you, Y/N.” 

“What? What happened now?” 

"You. You’re annoying.” 

You roll your eyes as you and Eren walk back to your seats, hands locked together and already met with a barrage of insults from Sasha and Annie. They’re pinching Eren’s cheeks, mimicking Sukuna taking your lollipop, the rest of them all teasing him. 

But when you look over and smile at Eren, which he returns, you both focus your heads back on the show, the speakers talking. And when Eren drives away at the end of the night, you hold onto the feeling. 

Just one more month until you’re back together. All of you, for real.

--

next chapter linked here

taglist: @platromm @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[baronessvonglitter]

Wip Weekend

I have a lot of plates spinning right now, and I hope to have a couple of these done within the week 🤞🏽

First up I have the beginning of "The Girlfriend Experience" where reader/Angel has garnered significant success in her career.

Star of the Year Your boss's hand rests on your lower back, the heat of his palm is felt through the deep back slit of your dress. "I never had a doubt. You've been my shining star since day one," he murmurs in your ear as you gaze upon your award, your manicured finger tracing the engraved letters of your title and your name. "'Rising Star' last year, 'Star of the Year' now. How does it feel?" You take a moment to think about it because it's not an off-the-cuff question. When he asks you something, he really wants to know your answer. In the past couple years you've garnered the coveted spot within the escort agency. You've worked your way up the same as everyone else, but there's something about you that keeps your old clients coming back and the new ones intrigued.  You've serviced clients of every rank and status, from businessmen to princes in foreign lands. Even women, though being with them was so easy it rarely ever felt like work.  You've made a name for yourself, and as one of the highest grossing performers, you've earned the option to walk away right now. The money in your bank account is showing more zeroes than you've ever thought possible, and you've created the kind of life for yourself where you'll never have to worry about a thing anymore. An apartment in Paris, a brownstone in NYC, a villa in Milan, a Spanish colonial in LA.. not to mention cars you rarely need to drive because you're always being picked up and dropped off in style. You've met with movie stars, designers, everyone of importance. And you could stop working if you really want to. But you don't want to. Giving your boss a smile, you don't take your eyes from his as his hand travels from your back to your waist, gently gliding his fingers towards your breast. "It feels like I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do.. but that doesn't mean I'm done yet, Mr. Martell." He smiles, his teeth perfect and white. "Please. Call me Oberyn."

(Of course Oberyn owns an escort agency, and of course there's going to be a threesome right after this scene with him and Ellaria)

Also, "Maneater", a mini series about Maxwell Lord who's doing what he can to keep his business afloat, even if it means marrying a woman much older than him. @everybodylovedcontractors I hope you like it!

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom. "Who is it?" Maxwell asks, not wanting to be bothered just then. "Your fiancee, Linda St. James," she replies. "It sounds urgent." "Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through." "Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at my place tonight." "Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table. Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice.  Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends. "Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancee somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her." "You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up. Max hangs up with a groan of disgust. 

And some rom-com Dave, which surprised me, but I think it's really sweet. Featuring Divorce Lawyer!Dave (working on a title) but the first chapter is "Meet Cute" (will also feature Javier Pena, Tim Rockford, and maybe even Ezra..) and because I like getting ahead of myself I'm working out a spinoff rom com with Tim 👀

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day." "We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts. "I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair. There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit." Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought. "Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him. "I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person." "You don't have to do that-" "Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave. The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?" You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

And last but not least, a little stepdad!Frankie x coquette!reader I've been cooking up. Not sure if this will be separate parts yet, or one big ol' hunk of a story, but the working title is "Kitten"

Hearing his footsteps behind you, you smirk and lean against the sink, bent over at the waist. "I think something's wrong with the drain." The sight of you like that makes his pulse quicken. He has to take a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "What do you mean something's wrong with it?" He clears his throat gruffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "The water's not going down," you answer, turning around, your t-shirt wet and see-through. Frankie eyes the way it clings to your body, your tits on display, nipples visible, making his mouth water. His composure is nearly lost then and there.  "Um, I'm sure it's just.." he struggles to finish the sentence, any coherent thoughts devolving into pure instinct and desire. A bright smile graces your lips. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you can fix it. I trust you with my pipes." You move past him, lightly brushing against him as you walk to your bedroom. "I've gotta get changed. Can't believe how wet I got!"

I'm working on a couple other things as well, which I may feature next week once I have some of this out of my system.

Tagging some moots who tagged me first and/or seemed interested when I bothered them with my ideas (JK y'all are my cheerleaders)

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelalorian @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (January 21-27, 2024)

Godzilla Minus One made awards show history in both Japan and the U.S. this week. Its Oscar nomination for best Visual Effects is the first of the series (Godzilla [1998], Godzilla [2014] and Godzilla vs. Kong were previously shortlisted) and the first for any Japanese film. Small wonder Takashi Yamazaki, Kiyoko Shibuya, and their team went berserk when the nomination was announced. The other nominees are The Creator, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, Napoleon, and Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One. According to IndieWire, The Creator has the edge, but Minus One could very well win. And while it naturally made less headlines in the Anglosphere, Minus One also picked up a whopping 12 Japan Academy Film Prize nominations, exceeding Shin Godzilla's 10.

Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color is now in North American theaters. I was intrigued enough to make it my fourth theatrical viewing of this movie, but in the end it did basically strike me as a gimmick. Godzilla Minus One was shot digitally with sets designed for color, so making it actually look like a film from the 40s was always going to be an uphill battle. Even with the regrade, there wasn’t a ton of contrast in most shots, and some of the scenes taking place at night were quite hard to see. Still, apart from the Odo Island massacre, I found the Godzilla scenes as gripping as ever.

Thanks to Minus Color, Minus One made $2.6 million this weekend, crawling back into the box office top 10. Its total in the U.S. and Canada now stands at $55 million, third among all foreign-language films released in the U.S.

Brush of the God, Keizo Murase's directorial debut after a lifetime in movies, is finally complete. It'll play at the Osaka Asian Film Festival in March (link contains more images), and hopefully travel overseas very soon. Murase will also receive an Association Special Award at the Japan Academy Film Prize.

Clover Press shipped out copies of Godzilla & Kong: The Cinematic Storyboard Art of Richard Bennett to Kickstarter backers, myself included. It's an excellent art book, and there are plenty of deleted and altered scenes mixed in with more familiar sequences. Believe it or not, Bennett drew the panel above for Kong: Skull Island—they considered having James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston) flash back to an encounter with King Ghidorah in Vietnam. Not sure how that would've worked, as Ghidorah is generally not one to lie low for a few decades, but it's the first I've ever heard of it being considered. I'm hoping to post some more scans soon. Here's the order link.

Minecraft social media accounts teased a crossover with the Monsterverse, in what's likely to be the most high-profile of the Godzilla x Kong video game collaborations. The Mobzilla mod was created over 10 years ago, so this is long overdue.

The big toy news this week was Titanic Creations revealing the digital sculpt for its Yongary figure. This guy's had even less figures than Gorgo - I can only think of one, and very few of them were made - so expect massive demand. New Godzilla toys were also on display at London Toy Fair, both at the Playmates booth and among the plushies made by an unknown company.

[project-sekai-facts]

project sekai twitter once again fighting over tsukasa having nuance. this week's episode: the bedroom vs the sekai

lmao i actually wrote an analysis of this on my personal blog a couple days ago but i'll do a quick one for here too because I don't wanna link it.

So something I learnt in college last year is that when writing a character, designing their room can really help to give them personality. Like it can tell you about who they are as a person, what their hobbies are, what they like, the situation they live in (<- that one doesn't really apply here all we can learn w Tsukasa is that his family is rich).

The thing is, his room doesn't really tell us a whole lot about him. Compared to every other character, there's way less to learn about him from his room. Imagine looking at this from the perspective of someone who knows absolutely nothing about the game. His room is mostly tidy which suggests he likes to keep things clean, maybe he's a bit of a perfectionist. There's a desk so he's probably a student. There's some books on the floor so maybe he likes to read. He's got that big mirror and he puts his lamp above it like a spotlight, so maybe he's a bit vain and showy. His display cabinet is filled with trophies (only at night but that's probably an art error), so there must be something he's really good at. But there's nothing that tells us what that is.

That's the thing. There’s a limit on how much we can learn from what we’re given. He’s a student, he’s a perfectionist, there’s something he’s really good at and won awards for, and he’s got a bit of an ego on him. But look at this from the perspective of someone who knows nothing about the character again. Would you be surprised to learn that his main interest is theatre? Because aside from the desk lamp spotlight there’s no way to tell (the desk lamp spotlight doesn’t really tell you either). You have to read Dazzling Light to learn that those trophies are for piano, because there’s no way to tell by just looking that he plays piano or has any interest in music.

There’s a lack of anything that interests him. That’s the thing. Even with Mafuyu and Toya, who also have pretty plain rooms, you can learn more about their interests than you can with Tsukasa. Mafuyu has a fish tank and there’s a synth on her bottom shelf. The synth being tucked away might mean she's trying to hide it. Toya has a collection of plushies and a sound system, as well as a piano covered with a sheet. We can infer that he likes to collect stuffed toys and he likes music, although he doesn't want to play piano. But with Tsukasa there's nothing. Well, there's some books, but reading isn't really a huge interest of his. It's the fact that the biggest part of his character is missing from his room that gets people.

However as soon as you go into the SEKAI there's a fucking theatre. The SEKAI mainly reflects his childhood interests but it still does more than his present-day bedroom.

So while yes, his room tells us about who Tsukasa is as a person, it doesn't tell us about anything he likes or is interested in. It's... boring.

The thing is since the game doesn't address it, there's multiple different ways to interpret why his room is like that, and neither of them are wrong or right until it actually is brought up in the game or confirmed by devs. On the one hand, maybe he just likes to keep his room as neat and tidy as possible. Maybe he doesn't want to put any playbooks or costumes or posters or anything because it would create clutter. But on the other hand, we already know that when he was younger he put on an act to be more brave and mature because of the situation with Saki, so maybe that carried over into his room. Neither of these are wrong until proven otherwise.

i lied this wasn't quick it's just a complete longer rewrite of what's on my personal blog

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

rockstar!eddie taking you to an award show and fucking you with the sex you he bought you because he got jealous other men were flirting with you infront of him. You don't get his dick tonight

Warnings: sex toys, mean eddie, jealous eddie. Mocking, a lil face slapping. Edging.

A/n: short little blurb

18+ no minors, please.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Currently, you were laid across Eddie's king-sized bed in his hotel room. White cotton sheets scratching against your sensitive skin. Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your hands in your hair fisting it as your husband was slowly dragging the thick piece of silicone between your wet folds. His shirt unbuttoned to expose his tattooed chest. The bow tie that once sat nice on his collar, now undone and hanging across his neck. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed arms.

Eddie had taken you to a very special award show tonight. One where Corroded Coffin would not only be performing but possibly receiving an award. You hung on his arm all night drapped in a sulk designer dress. He only left your side for a few minutes, and when he came back, he saw you crowded by a few men. They all were looking at you the way he did. He knew what they were thinking and knew you were enjoying the attention at little too much. Before you knew it, he was gently dragging you out of there and back to his hotel room.

"Since you seem to love attention from other men so much you don't get my cock tonight."

Now you're laid out on his bed, skin sticky with sweat as he's been edging you for many, many hours. You begged and pleaded, tears streaming down your face. Your makeup ruined and hair a mess. You grab his wrist as he's dragging the toy across your clit. Only putting enough pressure on it to make you squirm but not enough to make you cum.

"Please, Eddie." You whined out.

"Please, Eddie." He mocked as you writhed beneath him. He dips the toy at your entrance, pushing it slightly to open you up and then pulling it back out. Throwing your head back fat tears begin to pour down your face more. "Go on and cry all you want you deserve this."

He sinks the toy in your dripping wet cunt inch by inch. His hand and wrist coated in your juices along with the toy. He's been doing this all night, and now it's well into the early hours of the morning. You just want to cum and go to sleep. Eddie on the other hand is just getting started with you. He takes slight pity on you and begins pumping the toy in and out of you. You claw at his wrist again as he presses his other hand down on your pelvis.

"A-Ah!...fuuuck."

"Feel good, doesn't it?" He asked, not really looking for an answer.

"Even with this fake cock I can still fuck you better than they ever could, yeah?" He asks but you don't respond. Your too fucked out to even form a coherent thought much less a response. Eddie takes the opportunity and slightly slaps your face snapping you back to reality. "Answer me sweetheart." His face hard. He presses down on your belly, and you let out a moan that was more animalistic. He keeps pumping the toy in out of your cunt. Pulling it out and slamming it back in, making your tits bounce. Your juice, creamy and coating the silicone, splashing a little bit on your husband's hand.

"N-no they can't, no one can. Fuuuck, please don't stop." Each pump of toy now makes the loudest squelching noises. Your husband's favorite sound. You wish he wasn't so mad so he could enjoy it a little more. You reach out to touch his cock in his tailored pants, but he slaps it away. He really was mad this time. You can not help but want to cry more. Your lip wobbles, and he takes notice. He bends down by your ear and whispers in your ear. "You're still my good girl." He leans up and goes back to his assault on your aching cunt. He takes the toy out and examines how messy you've made it. He smiles to himself for a moment. He rubs in between your folds and against your clit again before sinking back inside you. He starts pumping it in and out at a bruising pace. "Please can I cum?" He smirked when he heard you beg him.

"Yeah, of course you can. I don't know why you haven't already."

Throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel your release creeping up on you. Eddie is still slamming the thick piece of silicone in and out of you. Your legs are going numb. The grib you have on his arm will sure leave small little bruises tomorrow. You're twisting and turning your body every which way. "You're so squirmy tonight." Your husband commented cheerfully. You try to respond, but all that came out of your mouth was a moan that somewhat resembled his name. The closer you got, the louder and needier you sounded. He moved his hand to rub your clit and your body went paused for a moment. Your mouth forming an o shape as Eddie rubs your neglected bud. You breathe out a "thank you," bringing your knees up to your chest. He starts rubbing faster as the toys is still working inside of you.

Aghh! AAAH! Yes!...yes! Oh,Eddie! You chant.

Aghh! AAAH! Yes!...yes! Oh, Eddie! Your husband mocked you once again.

You don't care at this point as that tightness in core builds and builds. Until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head while your body goes stiff. Your orgasm coarses through you and your breathing stopped for a moment. Eddie is still pumping the toy as your walls clenched and pulsed around it. His fingers are still working on your aching bud as you ride out your climax. You go limp as he carefully removes the toy from inside you.

"You okay, baby?"

"Hmm?" Was all you could say in response.

Eddie picked you up and carried your exhausted body to the bathroom and got you cleaned up and ready for bed. He was still painfully hard. He wasn't done with you yet right now. You need him to care for you before he gets to be taken care of.

[gloriousmonsters]

HECK yes. worstgirl time. (a lot of these are still vague and taking shape and i need to actually figure out when i want to place her death date etc etc...

that said

she had an absent dad (stepped out to buy cigarettes and fucking died) (velvette thinks he just ran off) (all the Vees have daddy issues, this is hers) and a mom who fell into alcoholism due to depression/shit jobs, leaving Velvette to be raised by the TV, fashion magazines and the Internet whenever she got access to computers. so i feel like that explains a lot

I'm toying with the idea she was put in foster care as a teenager, which she was pissed about because she LIKED being essentially a free agent in between the brief moments her mom noticed her existence and they had screaming matches, thankyouverymuch

she was severely bullied in high school for her obvious poverty+being a weird alt girl+the noticeable mental illnesses (mainly anger issues where she would explode and threaten people messing with her, or pick fights with teachers).

was never internet popular or successful in the fashion industry during her life, just an aspirational mean girl who learned a lot about Internet success but didn't have time to implement it for herself, and had a lot of big dreams (mostly involving being handed fashion awards while the bullies from her high school cried)

had turned thirty just a little while before her death, and was experiencing existential terror over how she hadn't found success yet and was going to start becoming a decrepit old maid

owned a lot of ball-jointed dolls who she'd make little outfits for and also be quietly insane with at the end of a hard day (velvette sitting on the floor with two dolls re-enacting a conversation with a coworker: wow, [velvette]! now that you suggest THAT outfit, i see that my idea is stupid and bad! i'm going to go kill myself now!)

(bonus tiny after-death headcanon but. doesn't collect dolls anymore, but will refer to her models as her 'dolls' or 'dollies' sometimes, always in a fake-sweet possessive or threatening tone. it's usually a sign she's pissed with them.)

struggled with ~love~ due to (a) mainly being attracted to guys who were dating other people or out of her social circle/league (b) being a weird little creep whose trouble with conducting normal relationships only increased the longer she went without one and grew more desperate and was ashamed by that and became more cold and aggressive with stronger outbursts of desperation and etc, vicious cycle

ok I've had the vague idea she was killed when she just kind of hit her limit one day and went into her workplace to kill someone (a model or actual designer) she hated--uncaring if she caused some collateral death on the way-- and got killed in self-defense, but now I'm thinking about her working in marketing/advertising specifically because it would both fit her after-death role and because being forced to promote/design ideas around someone you loathed seems like a good source of 'i'm going to fucking murder them' stress

that's all that comes to mind atm 👍

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Friday

SpaceTime 20241122 Series 27 Episode 141

Black hole consuming matter faster than its theoretical limit

Astronomers have discovered a supermassive black hole in the early universe that’s consuming matter more than 40 times faster than its theoretical limit.

Solving one of Uranus’s mysteries

Astronomers have discovered that an unusual kind of space weather squeezed Uranus’s magnetic field, dramatically compressing its magnetosphere just before NASA’s Voyager 2 spacecraft flew past it in 1986.

A new spacecraft to track how Earth’s surface moves

Scientists are developing a new satellite designed to measure ground movement on the Earth’s surface.

The Science Report

The World Meteorological Organization says 2024 is on track to be the hottest year on record.

Ultra processed foods are now dominating diets globally.

Toy dog types bred for companionship have the biggest brains relative to their bodies.

Skeptics guide to the tethered satellite UFO story

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth.  The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[vikenticomeshome]

Cyberchase Comics: The Great Cyber-skate by Ron Barrett

Here is the first of a group of three one-shot Cyberchase comics produced by Ron Barrett for the pbskids.org website sometime in 2011. They were placed under the "activites" section, but they have since been removed. I will transcribe the dialog.

The Hacker: This museum is all about me! I love it!

Caption #1: Buzz ironing my lovely cape

Caption #2: Generous me giving toys to Delete

The Hacker: Only one thing is missing...

The Hacker: A pedestal for my statue!

Buzz: Hey boss, look! There's a skateboard contest on Radopolis!

Cyber News: Trophy to be awarded to winner

The Hacker: That's it! The perfect pedestal! I'm going to win that trophy

Buzz: Too late! Entries are closed. Besides, you don't own a skateboard and you don't know how to skate.

The Hacker: FEH! I never let ignorance stop me!

The Hacker: I'll put together the ironing board and bunnies...

The Hacker: Presto! - A skateboard!

The Hacker: OOOOPS!

Narration: On Radopolis...

Jackie: Ouch! I hit my thumb!

Slider: Let me take a look at that.

Nezzie: Oh Slider, you did a terrific job designing this skateboard challenge.

Matt: Hey, guys! Can we finish building it?

Matt: Why do I suddenly feel invisible?

Slider: Well, I'm off to enter the contest!

Jackie: It is a challenge - It's got a banister, crazy cones, broken sidewalk...

Inez: Sewer half-pipe, a loop...

Matt: and a judge.

King Dudicus: Judge Dude.

The Hacker: Pardon me, young Radopolite, what time does the contest begin?

Young Radopolite: 2:30, its 2 O'clock now.

The Hacker: 2 O'Clock? May i see your watch?

Young Radopolite: Sure, mister.

The Hacker: Ah-ha! You're wearing it upside-down! It's only 8:30!

Young Radopolite: Silly me. I must be tired. I should rest before the contest.

The Hacker: Good idea! I'll hold your number for you.

Young Radopolite: Thanks.

The Hacker: He just dropped out. I am taking his place.

King Dudicus: You, dude?

The Hacker: Want to give me the trophy now or wait 'til after the contest?

King Dudicus: The dude who's best at finishing the course wins it.

The Hacker: Listen up, you bolts buckets - after I complete my great skate, I want you to cut a hole on the course...

The Hacker: So Slider will become a stumbler!

King Dudicus: Let the cyberskateboard contest begin! The first skater is... The Hacker!

King Dudicus: Go dude!

Jackie, Inez, and Matt: Hacker?

The Hacker: Whooooayy!!

The Hacker: Ai-yi-yi-yi!

Buzz: There he goes. Start cutting.

Digit: Oh no! The contest has already started. Huh? Hacker? Buzz? Delete?

The Hacker: HELLLLP!

Buzz: Heh-heh

Digit: I'd better squawk on the Sqwak! Earthlies! Buzz and Delete are cutting a piece out of the course!

Buzz: A hole to be filled by Slider.

Delete: Finished.

Jackie, Inez, and Matt: Thanks Didge! We're on it!

Inez: There's a whole piece missing. How do we make one that fits perfectly?

Jackie: It's a rectangle.

Matt: We can measure the hole...

Matt: and cut a new plank to fit out of this broken skateboard.

Jackie: measure with what?

Matt: I can measure with my shoelace.

Matt: It's one lace long...

Matt: by one third of a lace wide.

Jackie: Draw the lace lengths on the board. Hurry! Slider's starting.

Inez: Gee, it looks more like a tangle than a rectangle.

Matt: It should have square corners.

Inez: Wait! Here in our toolbag - A carpenter's square!

Inez: You can use it to square off the corners.

Matt: Great! I'll measure one lace length...

Matt: across the top and redraw the line.

Matt: Then measure and draw one third of a lace down the side...

Matt: turn the square...

Matt: so the corner is at the side. Draw one lace length across here...

Matt: Then turn the square and draw a line upward!

Jackie, Inez, and Matt: The rectangle is untangled!

Jackie: Cuttin' it out!

Matt: Perfect fit!

Digit: Nail! Nail! The gang's all here!

Inez: Thanks, Didge!

Narration: Just in time!

Digit: Go Slider!

Narration: Up ahead, Hacker enters - the loop!

Narration: And as he does...

Narration: The legs on his ironing board spring open!

Ironing Board: Sproing!

Narration: As Slider rolls past him to the finish!

Narration: And is awarded the trophy!

The Hacker: My pedestal! Sob! Sob!

Buzz: Don't be sad, boss. We'll fix up a nice pedestal for your statue.

The Hacker: I am gorgeous.

Delete: You're the iron man, boss.

Buzz: Yeah, we're never board with you!

That is the end of the comic.

So, what did I think about it?

Slider is great, but why is he entering a skating contest on a course that he built himself? That gives him an unfair advantage. Why did they keep the contest running while the kids tried to fix the sabotaged ramp?

We now know that citizens of Cybersite Radopolis are called Radopolites. Buzz's line about making a hole to be filled my Slider creeps me out.

[rawr-gorg-smash]

Chemist Stereotypes: Part 1

Bench Monkey: never wants to leave the lab. Brain never fully developed, but hands start turning solid gold. Life slowly turns into romcom titled, “Gollums and Their Chromatography Columns.”

Savior of the World: believes their big idea solves The Problem™. Usually in academia, but sometimes in business world. Research behaviors of Thomas Edison with personality of either Ted Bundy or a sand dune.

Savior’s Disciple: effectively designs entire research program and executes it without saying a word in public. Platinum hands meet diamond mind. Driven by pathological insecurity, crippling social anxiety, enthusiasm for paying karmic debt, or congenital case of Company Man Syndrome.

The Expanded Consciousness: obsessed with fringe psychedelics. Most likely to ignore lab safety, ingest manually purified alkaloids, and record resulting trips in lab notebook. Great to have a beer with, but never bring up fungi unless you want to hear all about them for the next 6 years.

Walter White III: starts as dead-end dissertation project, ends as small-batch artisanal meth brand. Most likely to wear orange for 7 to 12.

Escaped Convict: likes talking to people about more than HPLC gradients. Tunnels out of Fume Hood Penitentiary with a spoon and desperation, then goes on the lam disguised in an allied discipline. Makes twice the money for half the effort, but twenty years later, a faint whiff of paint thinner in their garage still cues a nostalgic mental montage of cleaning glassware while contemplating reaction mechanisms.

Kid with Expensive Toys: one of twenty world experts in NOESY-COZY-INEPTITUDE pulse sequences. Looks for jobs based on NMR magnet frequencies instead of paycheck sizes. Who needs to drive a 120k BMW when you can play with a $10M magnet? Bonus: most likely to wear cargo shorts and a Pink Floyd T-shirt to a black-tie award ceremony, and could happily set a record for hiking the Appalachian trail while bringing nothing but the clothes on their back and a dull Swiss Army knife.

Pyromaniac: ‘nuff said.