#I can’t accurately describe how I always get there though

[danvssomethingorother]

My favorite thing about crotchet is that moment where the pattern just isn’t working how you want it and you somehow pull a miracle by making up another way in your head and it turns out better.

[cupidkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write Benji x wife newlyweds fluff?✨✨💗💗

Just Benji being such a sweet, soft sucker for his spouse.

Reader is fem but it’s used very loosely.

It hadn’t been long since you and Benjicot were wed and the butterflies within your stomach has yet to subside, but a small part of you had grown partial to the feeling, especially when that feeling was brought back tenfold as you looked over at Benjicot on the bed; only to see him staring at you adoringly.

‘What?’ You asked, feeling a little exposed beneath his gaze and giddy that you got to be the recipient of such a sweet, genuine gaze as his.

‘This isn’t a dream is it.’ Benji asked softly as he reached out to grab ahold of your hand, pulling you to stand in between his legs, ‘please tell me this isn’t a dream. I don’t think I can handle it if all of this is just something I shall eventually awaken from unfairly.’ He adds as you crane your head down to rest yours easily against his own.

‘This isn’t a dream husband of mine.’ You reassured him softly as you stroked your thumb across the back of his hand, watching fondly as Benji’s face visibly relaxed at the sound of your voice, a soft smile hatching across his lips that left your heart melting every time you were blessed with it’s appearance. ‘What makes you think that any of this could only be achieved through a dream?’ You asked, curious as to know how his mind went that that conclusion because to you everything leading up to now has felt all too real to be a dream, you felt too awake to believe that you were in some way in a deep sleep.

‘You.’ Benjicot replied. ‘You’ve always felt like a dream come true to me since the day we met, and in such a way that I could never describe accurately, at least until now that is.’

‘And that is?’

Benjicot got up from the bed and moved his hands to securely hold your face between his calloused palms as his eyes flickered across every aspect of your face, almost as though he were committing this very moment to his memory, like he was scared that he was bound to forget all about it sooner or later and he was desperate to remember how your face looked now; hopeful that it will force his mind to remember the best moments of his life all over again. ‘That you were always meant to be apart of my life. It is as if the old gods made you and I to one day be bound in a shared fate that concludes with us still being together when it all ends. You are the other half of me that I can’t live without.’ Benjicot says as he peppered soft kisses across your face, making you smile at him warmly and reaching your hands to rest atop of his own.

‘You’re too sweet to me my beloved.’ You murmured as Benji pressed a kiss to your lips. ‘You must’ve been a poet in a previous life.’ You added cheekily before squealing when Benjicot playfully bit your lip in retaliation.

‘I meant that in a good way!’ You cried, lightly snacking his bicep.

‘To you it does, but to me it sounded very much like a playful jab made at my expense.’ Benjicot said and moved his hands to your waist, where in which he gave a swift tug and you were brought tightly against his chest, but you weren’t in any position to complain as you quickly latched your arms to his waist and rested your head firmly in the crook of his neck, kissing on it a little as a content smile blossomed across your face while sinking into his warmth.

‘Agree to disagree.’ You said, voice muffled against your now husband as the lull of sleep began to weigh heavily on your eyelids. The excitement of the day had long since drained you and all you wanted to do was to sleep in the arms of your beautiful husband, you couldn’t help but feel giddy calling Benjicot your husband no matter if it was aloud or to yourself, it just felt right.

‘Agree to disagree my love.’ Benjicot echoed as he helped you to bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, nose and lips before getting under the covers to join you as he held you protectively in his arms, just a pair of lovers spending their first of many nights cuddled up to each other as though fearful of being separated from one another.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / final part / series masterlist

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident. 

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless. 

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki. 

“what?” 

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field. 

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on. 

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree. 

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored. 

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office. 

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable. 

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then. 

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.” 

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal. 

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda. 

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy. 

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen @kimvmarvel @ieathairs @janbannan @ja-zz @vangoes @starringz @ciscob1tes @theoriginaluzisimp @thirtykiwis @vivienne2000 @whydohumansss @purpleguk @simeon-lovergirl @missesgojosatoru @loveroftheoldestdream @mkaiiserr

if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder &lt;3

[jeonscatalyst]

LET’S TALK ABOUT “ARE YOU SURE?!”

I started doing a very long review of the entire season of AYS but I changed my mind along the way because I have seen so many other people give reviews of the show which I generally agree with so me doing another one just to repeat the same thoughts felt a little unnecessary so I decided to look into some aspects of Jikook’s special bond which AYS practically reaffirmed or which some us might be finding out for the first time. This post is going to be incredibly long so brace yourselves.

These are mostly my observations and some of these observations are not new to me at all. These observations would be supported by mentions of moments from the show or twitter links to see some described moments.

*Jimin listens to Jungkook

I love how Jimin and Jungkook listen and pay attention to each other but it was especially beautiful to see this aspect of their dynamic play out in AYS. I noticed that no matter how unimportant what Jungkook was saying seemed, Jimin always listened to him, validated him and participated in the conversation . The two moments I recall the most (there are more) were from the Jeju episodes. In episode 5 while at the meat restaurant, I loved how Jimin just sat there listening as Jungkook explained to him how to tenderize meat. You could tell that for some reason that topic was important to Jungkook or he loved talking about it and Jimin knew this so he encouraged the conversation by asking follow up questions and Jungkook happily explained things to him. Now I don’t particularly think Jimin was very interested to know how to tenderize meat or all of that but it was beautiful how he created a space where Jungkook felt comfortable enough to just talk about the most simple things knowing that someone was actually listening and paying attention to him.

Then we also have the moment when they all got back from the last restaurant they visited in Jeju. We see Jungkook happily telling Jimin that he saw two bikers on their way home and this was so sweet on its own because things like this show you how innocent and child like Jungkook is because things like that still amuse or excite him but what was even more touching to me was Jimin’s response. Jimin didn’t just stay quiet or just say “ok”or “really” and leave it at that but he actually engaged in the coversation too and told Jungkook that he saw him waving at them. This was really precious to me because it’s beautiful how Jk knows that he can talk to Jimin about any and everything and he would always get a response that doesn’t make him feel like what he is saying isn’t important.

These are things that people easily ignore or undermine but seeing moments like this explains why Jungkook said he found the greatest comfort in Jimin and why Jimin is who he went to when he needed company.

*Jungkook is more verbally expressive around Jimin.

I don’t know if many people have noticed this but when watching BTS content, it is easy to notice that Jungkook is usually quieter among all the members. He doesn’t talk much and rarely ever initiates topics for discussion but just goes along with them. We usually see more of the physically expressive side of Jk when he is around other people but AYS showed me a side of Jk I must I admit I didn’t know too well.

With Jimin, Jungkook is more vocally expressive. We saw him literally take lead of conversations, vocally express how much he loved the show and how much fun he was having, we saw him initiate conversations quite a bit and I must say this felt new ans different from the Jk we know in other content who usually can’t even speak over his hyungs. We usually saw him try to say something and eventually give up, he didn’t vocally express his thoughts much unless he was specifically asked but with Jimin, he is so different. Maybe the more accurate way to put this is that Jungkook is the biggest yapper around Jimin even though he goes quieter with others.

I also love the fact that we don’t only see him vocally express his happiness. I love that we see him express his frustrations at Jimin too. When he is mad at Jimin he doesn’t hide it, when he is not impressed he doesn’t hide it, when he is sad or hurt by something Jimin says or does he doesn’t hide it. This shows a very deep level of understanding and trust because Jungkook knows he doesn’t have to pretend around Jimin. He is sure and secure in whatever bond they have that he is ok with showing Jimin every side of his. His happiness, excitement, pain, sadness, frustrations, anger. This is what an ideal relationship is like to me. This is what a real deep connection feels like to me and seeing Jikook like this melted my heart. I was so happy to able to see this side of Jungkook because it’s not a side we had seen alot.

I love how Jungkook feel comfortable talking about the most mundane things in settings where he feels the most comfortable or with people he feels the most comfortable with. After watching AYS, I got to finally understand why Jungkook loved doing very long lives so much. I think we can all agree that there is a certain level of comfort Jungkook feels when he is Live. He talks about any and everything to us seated on the other sides of our screens watching him. He tells us about the size of Bams poop, tells us about meals he loves to cook, tells us about the most unserious stories about wanting to meet and befriend ghosts, he feels comfortable falling asleep with us watching. When I think about it, I feel like he does that alot because he knows he can just talk and we would just listen without judging or openly judging the things he likes to talk about. Maybe with some friends or actual people in his life, he can’t just sit with them and talk about whatever he wants to talk about because some people might not find the “weird” things he likes to talk about fun or interesting, i mean how many people want to just sit there and hear about meat tenderizing? How many people want to sit and hear or talk about the size of a dog’s poop? How many people would just be quiet and listen to you talk about sand fleas? I think when Jungkook is around people he or settings that he knows he can just be completely himself and talk about whatever he want, he just goes off completely. That is how I see him and Jimin.

*Jikook truly enjoy spending time together

I’m sure many of us already know this but AYS once again showed that Jimin and Jungkook actually love spending time together. I’m not talking about time where they can just meet, do one of two fun activities and then go their separate ways, I am talking about them truly enjoying each other’s company no matter what they are doing. We saw them sticking together, choosing to do almost everything together and going to bed together even when there was another member in the mix. After their showers on those nights in Jeju, they could have just gone and done their different things like we saw tae do but they enjoyed sticking together and doing things together. It makes sense why over the years, we have heard from members and staff that Jikook were together alot. Makes sense why they called themselves all nighter buddies and we saw that dynamic at play in Jeju.

*Jikook have an insane amount of Inside Jokes

This is one nobody can argue. Jimin and Jungkook have an insane amount of inside Jokes and they watch alot of the same things. So many times people around them don’t understand the things they say. Hell even us watching had to wait for people to dig and explain to us what some of the things they said meant.

We saw this at play again throughout the AYS episodes. I love how Jimin and Jungkook instantly get each other and how they immediately pick up what the other is saying while others around them are still trying to figure things out. This is one of the ways you can tell that two people spend alot of time together and know each other deep.

*Jikook don’t need alot to feel happy and to have fun with each other

Jimin and Jungkook are two people who can create fun and happiness for themselves in any situation. They don’t need to be doing any fun physical activities to really enjoy or have fun being around each other. Just a simple drive, a walk, a meal, or just sitting down talking is fun for them. Just a train ride listening to music from the same airphones is interesting and fun to them. They don’t get bored around each other doing the most mundane things. They honestly enjoy the smallest things and as Jungkook said “These simple things were fun” (referring to walking around the streets of Tokyo with Jimin in 2017)

They create their happiness and fun anywhere they are doing anything …..

It’s just the little things….

Little 5 year olds playing after lights out😂

*Jungkook loves making Jimin laugh

This is something we all already knew but seeing it again in AYS was so cute. Jungkook really loves making Jimin laugh and I guess that the fact that Jimin is usually ready to have all his teeth out laughing and any little thing Jungkook does, gives him more motivation. Jungkook doesn’t mind looking like a clown if it means that it will make Jimin laugh. He teases him even sometimes just to get a chuckle out of him.

* Jimin finds Jungkook very endearing

Do I even need to explain this? Sometimes it feels like to Jimin, Jungkook is the cutest, most endearing, funniest person in the world. I don’t think we see Jimin laugh around any other people as much as he laughs around Jungkook. The man is a giggling mess anytime he is around Jungkook and I can’t even blame him because Jungkook sure likes making him laugh. He sometimes gets lost in Jungkook too you know….

*Jikook just get each other

Another thing I noticed again in AYS is how much Jikook just get each other. They don’t need words ti understand how the other feels. Doesn’t matter if they are being silly or serious, they just get what the other person is trying to express.

An example of this would be while they were at the ham and pink sausage restaurant in Jeju, after their little “incident” Jungkook immitated a meme which someone did when he needed an apology and Jimin understood what Jungkook needed immediately just by seeing him immitating that meme, and he apologized.

(First clip from this compilation)

Another moment that showed how much they just get each other was in episode 8 when Jungkook noticed that Jimin felt sad about the trip ending. Jimin didn’t say anything but Jungkook noticed it and starting doing stuff to cheer him on starting from playfully touching his head (even though he knew Jimin didn’t like when his head got touched) and reminding everyone that Jimin doesn’t like it bit he is doing it, to teasing him with the camera in his face infront of the restaurant to opening the windows of the car on their drive to the airport because he knew Jimin had said he goes to cold places when he is is a slump.

Touching his head

Playfully zooming into his face with the camera

Opening the windows to let the cold air in to lift their moods:

We also saw him being soft and reassuring to Jimin after he sensed that Jimin felt bad about the trip ending. What he says here, how he looks at Jimin and how he rubs Jimin’s nape/back trying to comfort him, was so beautiful.

* Jungkook likes zooming into Jimin’s face

Do I even need to explain this part? We’ve seen him do this for years and it was kinda funny to see it again on AYS

*Jimin is Jungkook’s Jungkook!

I don’t even know how to explain this other than saying than showing you this….

Jimin constantly singing Jungkook’s “3D” as “peuriri” and constantly going “standing next to you” every two seconds is so Jungkook of him. Jungkook gets a taste of his own medicine and doesn’t know how to handle it.

*They clearly keep up with each other/ they know each other so well

Contrary to haters beliefs that Jikook don’t keep up with each other outside of content, it is clear that they do. We saw it when Jimin dropped “Face” and we saw it again on AYS with Jimin and singing Jungkook’s song before it was released, Jimin knowing about Jungkook’s schedules, Jungkook knowing about Jimin’s second album release and even seeing the video of Jimin dancing with kids. Infact during the Jeju and Sapporo episodes, it was so obvious to see that those two knew alot about each other’s activities, schedules and plans. You didn’t see them getting surprised after getting information about each other.

To add to this, it was very clear that Jungkook knows what Jimin likes and vice versa. He knew Jimin would like his food spicy, he knew Jimin would enjoy the beef stew he cooked in Jeju. Jimin knew Jungkook would enjoy climbing and racing so he picker that place. Jimin knew Jungkook liked driving abroad, Jimin knew Jungkook had to go to the US to film with Usher etc. No arguments here.

* Jungkook loves to cook for Jimin

We already knew this but this was once again confirmed in AYS.

* The people around Jikook know how much Jikook are around each other.

Over the years, we have heard from members and people around Jikook say just how much time Jikook spend together and we once again got something like that from AYS.

Tae saw Jk do the soju bottle trick and immediately assumed that Jimin taught him. This is something that many people would miss but If Jikook didn’t have a habit of being together alot and drinking together, Tae who actually knows two of them personally wouldn’t have immediately assumed Jimin taught Jk that trick after seeing him do it and the funniest thing is, Jimin said Jk didn’t even learn it from him so why didn’t Tae think of anyone else or even assume that Jk learnt from tiktok or youtube? Why did his mind immediately go to Jimin? Jimin is not the only member or only person connected to Jungkook who drinks Soju. It was interesting getting yet again another confirmation of just how much the members and people around Jikook know about them being together alot.

*Taekook and Jikook are NOT the same.

I’m sure everyone already knows this but watching the Jeju episodes with Vminkook just once again showed how much of a difference there is between Jk bond with Tae and Jimin.

While some jikookers didn’t like the fact that Tae joined Jikook in Jeju, I loved it because I love seeing vminkook together as they are adorable and also because when they are together, you really get to see the difference in their dynamics. It was very noticeable how Tae and Jk bring out the chaos, playfulness and childishness from each other and they have so much fun doing activities together but you could see clearly that those two just don’t gravitate to each other in the same way Jikook do. By gravitating to each other I don’t mean sitting side by sideto have meals and none of that nonsense taekookers consider people gravitating towards each other. What I mean is, even if Jikook are not seated together, it was easy to see how their eyes searched for each other while they talked. While they all discussed, it was easy to see that Jk’s eyes mostly searched for Jimin’s and vice versa, it was easy to see how they mostly talked to and interacted with each other more during meals even though Tae was there. It was easy to see how they usually stayed with each other after their baths and only went to bed together while Tae always went to bed earlier. It was easy to see how when ever they had meals, Jikook would always look to each other to ask “is it good” regardless of whether they were alone or with Tae. They spoke to each other more, interacted more and even when Jk tasted something that seemed familiar to what he had had before, he looked to Jimin to ask if it was what they had at another restaurant at some point.

They understand each other in ways others don’t. They quickly get each other’s jokes while Tae sometimes looked a little lost. They have the same humor infact, you just cannot miss to see the difference when you pay attention. It was as clear as day and night.

It was also clear that unlike Jikook, taekook don’t really feel the need to be around each other much when they aren’t actively doing anything. We all saw how early tae usually went to bed not caring alot to hang around Jk, we saw how much time he spent on his phone even while they all were together, we all saw how even when Jk got out of the pool just after Tae did in episode 5, he didn’t go to shower at the same time Tae did. We Tae leave to shower and go to bed while Jk stayed behind teasing and playing with Jimin before they showered and later went to bed together around 4am. It was the same thing that happened the night before. Jk was clearly thoughtful of Tae and wanted him to feel included but we could see that he didn’t really feel the need being around him much because if he did he probably would have showered and gone to stay upstairs with Tae but he didn’t. He stayed downstairs with Jimin and they only left for bed together while tae was already asleep. This isn’t new as we know Jikook have always loved spending time alone together at nights and in their quiet moments but it was interesting to see unfold in AYS.

Remember all the times members (especially Tae) mentioned Jikook being together alot at nights? Some people said he lied all those times because he was hiding his relationship but we could all see that happen in AYS. It happened on both nights they were there.

While Jikook have this strong gravitational pull and enjoy being around each other’s vicinity at all times and not just when there are fun activities or other things to be done, we could see that this wasn’t the same with taekook. Tae felt like napping, he went upstairs to nap, Jimin felt like napping, he napped in the living room next to Jungkook who was cooking. Over the years, we have tons of moments where Jk could be seen going to sit or sleep by an already sleeping Jimin. They crave each other’s presence even when they aren’t doing anything but this isn’t the same for taekook and AYS confirmed that once again.

*Jikook are so domestic

Watching AYS, it was so easy to see just how domestic Jikook are. We got an opportunity to have a look into what their lives and days look like when they are not busy being idols and it was the most comforting beautiful thing ever. Them waking up and going to cuddle each other, cooking together eating together, going shopping together with Jungkook disappearing and getting on Jimin’s nerves😂, have little discussion’s together, drinking together, watching and reacting to a show of themselves together, making plans to eat, sleep, shower, play etc together, it was just so perfect. Perfectly and positively boring everyday life yet they looked like they had so much fun doing all of that TOGETHER!

*They have the most random conversations and do the weirdest things

Just jimin casually talking about wanting to sculpt his ass and Jungkook listening attentively😂

Whatever this conversation was……

I don’t know what goes on in their minds

Whatever this was

*Jungkook loves Jimin’s attention /loves to tease him to get it

*Jungkook is inlove with FOOD!

He looks at food like true love😂

*Jikook could be sus sometimes or most of the time tbh

Whatever this was…..

I mean….

This taken out of context…..

Hmmmmmm……

*Jikook like to bicker

They bicker sometimes like an old married couple

*Jimin and Jungkook loved their trips with each other!

Do I even need to explain this? I feel like the entire episode 8 explains this pretty well.

Ok, so these are some of my observations about Jikook from AYS. I might be editing this post in the future to add some more observations as I rewatch the entire show to see if I can catch other things I missed. Consider this my review of the show.

[bomber-grl]

DAMIAN WITH A FLIRTY BOYFRIEND

JUSY JDNDHDKWBDJDNKD

🫀🫀🫀

😭

And if reader works with Batman/oracle

Like, a mini oracle 🥺

And bothers Damian as much as he can

Flirty as fuck

Damian Wayne x Flirty!Reader

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x M!Reader

Art Creds to @/RLDDLE69 on twt/X

Even the before the two of you began to date you were rather…straightforward

If he can even call you that

He honestly admired it since he’s also pretty straightforward but when you set your sights on him?

Yea it’s no longer a good trait

It’s gotten even worse after you’ve established your relationship

You’re constantly calling him pet names and always flirting with him whenever and wherever you can

Ranging from when you’re hanging out at school or just during the day

It’s not like he can catch a break from you when he’s not pretending to just be a normal civilian

Because you’re quite literally in cahoots with his father and oracle

Basically everyone else too

He acts as though it’s annoying and bothersome but his reactions say otherwise

Whenever you wrap an arm around him and begin to compliment him, even mildly- a light blush will dust his cheeks

And like the tsundere he is (only way to accurately describe him so sorry for the cringe) he’ll act as though you’re nothing but distracting him 👀

Which would work since the blushing is very light

But cmon, he lives with built in detectives and are around them basically 24/7

They know that your constant flirting causes Damian to fluster

And so he becomes a victim to some relentless bullying teasing from his family members

Which then prompts him to ask you to no longer be flirty and basically exert PDA anymore so that he’d no longer be a victim

This only makes it worse for himself as you practically cling to him and compliment him over the top and explain all the reasons you can’t do that- them being him

Of course as usual- you’re teasing him and he can’t help but give in

Did I forget to mention that?

Damian refuses to acknowledge him liking that you flirt with him all the time

You both knew that to some extent

The only time he gets upset (?) is when you’re on a mission or just on patrol and you’ll just start pulling pick up lines out of your ass

Like Damn how desperate could you possibly be?

He’s the desperate one

Not much changes when you’re the one filling in for barb or assisting her

Your job is to review the perimeter through technology and see a good route into wherever he’s breaking in

-checking security cameras and looking for any bad guys to give him a heads up to a tee

Well instead of doing that, you’d much rather whisper the cringest, sweetest thing you could

Damian never knew how many words rhymed with pookie, that’s saying a lot

Hence why you two are no longer allowed to work together on missions because you’re too much of a distraction for him

Rip but you reap what you sow 🤷

[strwbabydoll]

For Whatever It’s Worth I Love You (Ain’t That the Worst Thing You Ever Heard?)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!Harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; best friends forever or whatever the saying is. how bittersweet it is to love someone that you can’t have how you want.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 8.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; angst, drinking, one mention of a sexual encounter, foul language, use of Y/N. date with a college guy who only wants sex and is obvious about it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did link a playlist in another post, but here it is. this fic is something personal to me so not everyone will relate but if you’ve ever been in love with your best friend, this is for you. you don’t have to listen to the playlist while reading but a few deserve a honorable mention that i feel accurately describe the feelings throughout.

yours - conan gray, it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift, falling for u - peachy! ft mxmtoon, heather - conan gray, people watching - conan gray.

— — —

Y/N and Harry were friends. They were the absolute best of friends if anyone asked. They grew up near one another but she tended to shy away from him in their early days. During their elementary years, she observed him from a distance. Him and his seemingly always put together outfits, the way he would snicker in class whenever the teacher mentioned anything remotely funny (it never was to the little girl.) She watched as he sometimes decided he wanted to take notes and would write everything down as fast as he could.

She watched as he grew a small circle of friends and would go around the school playing pranks, placing fake bugs inside lockers or on the teachers desk. She couldn’t help but to be curious of the boy as time went, something about him intrigued her. Years go by and eventually Y/N grew the courage to approach the young boy. She was still hesitant, nervous really, she didn't know what to say to him in any sense. But her legs carried her to him, her mind runs a mile a minute the closer she gets to him. She was bound to make a fool of herself, she just couldn’t stop.

Her feet stopped, she stood right in front of him and he’s yet to notice her, too deep into whatever conversation he’s having with his friend to notice the scared girl. She can’t help her gaze from roaming over his face, the soft cheeks and pretty green eyes, his pink lips and long eyelashes. His hair has gotten quite curly over the years, it’s honestly her favorite feature of his. She wishes she could look at him this close every day, just admire him without any fear or doubt and oh- he’s staring at her. When did he stop talking to his friend? Her eyes drop to his lips and they’re moving.. he’s talking to her, oh god he’s talking to her. This is it, she’s gonna make an utter and absolute fool of herself and he’s never going to talk to her again.

“Uh hello? Did y’need something?” He asks and she just stares blankly. She can’t force her brain to say something, anything please.

“Uh- well.. jeez. You see.. I just,” is all that comes out of her mouth when she finally decides to open it. She can feel heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment warming her and making her want to hide in her room until the end of time.

Harry’s just staring at her, his lips pulled up into an amused smirk of some sort and she can't help the shame that fills her.

“Go on then, I don't have all day.“ He says with amusement laced in his tone and she nearly melts. She couldn’t think he could get any better but his accent is heavenly. It’s smooth and soft and she wishes she could listen to it all day- no she doesn’t. That’s irrational and oh, he’s still looking at her. She needs to say something, she begs her mind to come up with anything at this point.

“You’re pretty.” His face immediately morphs into a look of disbelief as he shakes his head gently.

“Well thanks I guess.” He laughs gently before looking back at her.

“I don’t think pretty is a term meant for me, maybe for you though.” He smiles gently at her and she swears her heart skips three beats. Her skin flushes with heat at the compliment he gives her, and she can’t help but to smile shyly at the curly haired boy.

“Oh, um thank you.” She can’t help but to giggle and he watches her with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name then?” He asks her and she tells him, he compliments her name and says his own.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” They smile at each other and he invites her to sit with him and his friends.

Just like that, a new friendship begins to bloom between the children. They stay by each other’s side through the years, becoming the best of friends in the seventh grade over their shared disgust for dissecting frogs. Their faces screw up and they just keep complaining about how gross it feels and how they hate the sliminess of the skin. It’s hard to imagine that anything could break them apart, they’re too similar. They’re too close, their friendship is far too strong.

— — —

When high school came around, you never got one without the other. The pair were always attached at the hip. Some students thought the two were dating, and Harry always shot them down by saying she’s just a really close friend, they’re just friends, they couldn’t date. Y/N kept her mouth shut, always had to swallow the big lump that formed in her throat whenever the topic came up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny it, or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from admitting her feelings.

She’s not sure when she started catching feelings for Harry exactly. There’s many moments where it could be possible. It could’ve been all those nights they share a bed, they’re close enough and their parents figured nothing bad will happen. If they were to sneak around, they would’ve done it already. Harry will be over at Y/N’s house, either studying or just hanging out with her and they’ll stay up too late and Anne wouldn’t want to come and pick him up so Harry will pick an outfit or steal some of her bigger clothes to wear (she likes to wear oversized clothing when she’s going to sleep, they’re the only clothes that’ll fit him.) The first night was awkward to say the least, she didn’t own a sleeping bag and wanted him to stay with her. They thought of piling some blankets on the floor, but he said it’d be too uncomfortable and would hurt his back. He offered to sleep on the couch but she fussed and said it wouldn’t be a proper sleepover if they weren’t in the same room.

The last offer was said with hesitation, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red and he stared at the floor with a bashful smile.

“We could, maybe if you’re comfortable with it of course, maybe share a bed? We don’t have to. I’m sure your mom could figure something out-” She’s embarrassed at how fast she answers the boy, her skin warmed and shy eyes.

“Yeah! That works.” And just like that, the first initial problem is solved. They lay relatively stiffly in their own sides of the bed, a line of pillows lay in between them acting as a protective barrier, the moonlight filtering through her bedroom window and resting on his face. Casting a soft white hue onto his face, making him look even softer and she can’t help but to keep sneaking glances at her best friend. She doesn’t want to just stare and ogle, she doesn’t want to make this even more awkward for the two of them, so she settles for quick glances. They talk about anything and everything, whatever they learned in class or Harry’s newest favorite song, her current book she’s reading or some gossip one of them overheard.

Time passes, and Y/N can hear his breathing even out. She watches as his chest rises and falls slower signaling the young boy is sleeping. She then turns on her side, slowly and quietly as she pays attention to how much sound she’s making, her gaze landing on the sleeping boy. This should be, this is weird. She shouldn’t be watching him, but she can’t help it. Her eyes roam over his face once more, this time unashamed and more slowly, she wants to memorize every single detail.

She takes in the way his lashes fan his cheeks, she’s always been jealous of how long his eyelashes are. There’s no point in him having them if he doesn’t put them to good use. His eyelids flutter ever so often as he sleeps, his nose and his lips. They’re soft and pink, pillowy as if they’re made from the softest fabric. They’re inviting, but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’re best friends, best friends don’t kiss. They don’t think about cuddling up to them, they don’t do what she does.

Besides it’s normal for a young girl to develop a small crush on her best friend, it happens to everyone. At least that’s what her mom had told her weeks after the bed sharing experience.

— — —

She manages to bottle up those measly feelings for him, she doesn’t want to ruin anything and lose him. Years pass and now the two are in college. Freshman, the jokes of the school, the perfect targets for all of the upperclassmen. Y/N and Harry are still as close as ever, in fact some may say they’ve gotten closer. Harry’s always there to protect her from anyone who tries to pick on her, to lend a hand when she needs a study partner. Y/N’s there to support his dreams, to embrace him after a long day, to listen to him ramble about anything and everything.

The two would usually spend their nights sitting side by side as they help the other study, listening to the newest music on their phones, or just chatting happily with each other. The silence that settled over them sometimes never felt uncomfortable in any way, anything that had to do with Harry was warm. It was happy, filled with care and cozy, constantly feeling like she was enveloped in a warm hug. It was always a comforting moment whenever she’s around him, never awkward in any way or a silence so deafening that makes her feel the need to ramble about anything just to fill the silence.

True enough, college was stressful for the girl. She was known to overwork herself and to stack more and more things onto her imaginary plate. A stack so high that she can’t see over or around, and the weight of it only gets heavier as time passes by. It’s not something she can help though, she’s always been one to want to overachieve her own dreams and goals — even if said goals were highly unattainable and unrealistic — but she always had Harry to help her. She’d tack on classes that she may or may not need to take but she thinks it will be easier to take all the classes just in case.

She makes frequent stops to her teacher’s office to ask for help or to check her work (she’s sure the teachers are sick of her at this point), she’s constantly working on homework and studying for her exams and any tests she may have. It’s safe to say Y/N is as good a student as one can get, and she takes great pride in that! As much time as she spends in her dorm room or in the library with her face glued into text books, she makes sure to set time aside to spend time with her best friend.

She always makes time for him, how could she not when he’s the best part of her day? They’ll meet up in the library for an impromptu study session that usually ends up with their studies forgotten as they talk about whatever comes to mind, him sitting beside her on her bed because she doesn’t like visiting the boy’s dormitories simply because they’re loud and the majority of the time it smells unpleasant, or they’ll stroll around the campus because she loves being in nature. They’ll talk about how their classes are doing (hers are good but overwhelming and loud, his are good as well and he quite enjoys them,) or they’ll talk about potential crushes they have.

It usually always just results in Harry talking about whatever girl he thought was pretty as Y/N nodded along. She never had anything to contribute, she never had any crushes other than him and didn’t feel the need to add anything to the conversation. She was always too jealous, too upset to say anything anyways. She wished it was her. She hoped that she could hold his hand and kiss him whenever she wanted, wanted to play with his hair and cuddle up to him whenever she wanted, wanted to show him off and announce to the world that he was hers.

It was silly, she knew that, which was why she never said anything about her feelings. She couldn’t have him the way she wanted him, they were always just gonna be best friends. She was okay with that, to a point, she was glad to have him in her life just the same. She wouldn’t tell him in fear of losing him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being in his life, to not traveling to his place and hanging out with his family, to not have that one person who meant everything and anything to her.

So she pined, she yearned from a distance while still encouraging him to go on dates. Which is exactly what she’s doing now, sat on his bed with a sad smile as he told her about the current girl he’s interested in.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, always one of the first to raise her hand, she could honestly give you a run for your money. She always looks so pretty, it’s like she never has bad days. She even volunteers on the weekends!” He goes on and on, not realizing the sadness etched on his friend's face, he never noticed it as he rambled about whatever girl he was interested in.

Y/N nodded along, halfway listening as she felt the small ping of hurt begin to bloom in her chest. She wishes she could be all the way happy for Harry. She hates that she gets jealous of all the girls, she just can’t help it. She wishes she had a chance.

“Why don’t you ask her out then, Harry?” Her voice is quiet, scared of it coming out as shaky as she feels.

“I don’t even know if she likes me! I’d hate to ask her out just to get rejected.” He says as he paces, a habit he does when he’s nervous.

“You won’t know if you try, or you could just try talking to her normally and see how it goes from there.” She says and he nods, a big smile on his face (one she wishes he would give to her) as he thinks it over.

She hates these moments if she’s being honest, it always leads to the same outcome. He’ll listen to her advice, he and whatever girl he’s interested in will start talking, they’ll realize they’re compatible and start hanging out more, he’ll bring her around to meet Y/N and then something happens and they break up. She wishes he would stop, at least for a while, and go back to give all of his attention to her.

— — —

They’re now juniors in college and the two are still relatively close friends. Harry will walk her to class if his own is close enough, they eat lunch together when their schedules line up, Harry still takes her to and from school every day (unless something came up with his soccer schedule.) Harry did get into the party scene though, and Y/N thinks this is where it all got complicated. He would go to parties thrown on the campus and when he first started going, Harry would invite Y/N to come with him and the girl always said no.

Partying wasn’t her thing, she didn't find the whole appeal of it all. Going to someone’s dorm room or house, either way the space is entirely too crowded for her, the smell of cigarettes and weed fill the air and songs she’ll never enjoy blasts through whatever speakers they have. The drinks are usually not that bad after she’s had a couple before heading in, but she doesn’t necessarily like to drink anyways.

This was where her and Harry had begun to drift in a way, Harry enjoyed partying. He enjoyed it a lot, the thrill, and once he had gotten a couple of tattoos and grew his hair out he became quite the ladies man.

He would go on about whatever party was going on, to her it seemed there was a party every week. She didn’t understand why these people aren’t studying and making the most of their time, but she realizes that not everyone’s like her. It was very rare for her to accompany Harry to a party, but when she did, she made him promise to stay by her side as much as he could. He agreed, because why wouldn’t he, and tried to get to enjoy herself as much as she could.

Tonight’s a party, she couldn’t believe someone is throwing a party on a Thursday night, she would be cozied up in her bed with her textbooks laid across as she wrote down notes. Harry had convinced her to come with him, and told her it was going to be a small party and said they were having a pick a music DJ so she could even request a couple of her favorite songs! She reluctantly agreed only after Harry gave her the biggest eyes and pout she ever saw. She’s always had a soft spot for him, mainly because he’s never given her a reason not to trust his word and judgment.

So she sighed as she ushered him out, playfully swatting his butt with whatever she was able to grab and shooed him.

“Go on then, get ready! This better be good otherwise I’m shaving your head while you sleep.” She said with a soft smile on her lips, they both knew she would never do so simply because she enjoyed running her hands through his hair. He shook his head and laughed at her fondly as he allowed her to push him to the door. He then left her dorm with a smile on his lips to get ready for said party, one of his main priorities is to make his best friend begin to like parties so they could go together.

A while later, they’re standing against one another, a plastic solo cup in each of their hands in a somewhat crowded house. Harry was right, it was smaller than the normal party, there’s more room to walk around without the fear of bumping into someone and causing a scene. The music vibrates through the floors and fills the space, the air is stuffy and filled with the smell of weed. There’s so much happening all at once, and Y/N’s glad she doesn’t get overstimulated easily otherwise she’d have to leave.

Y/N sips on her drink, taking just the smallest of drinks simply because whatever Harry gave her smells and tastes bad, burning her throat and leaving a bad aftertaste on her tongue with every drink. Her eyes roam over the kitchen but they always manage to land on Harry. He’s so pretty, and just happy. He looks like he belongs here, long sleeve black shirt partially open, a black tie barely even tied around his neck, a pair of black jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. He’s let his hair down instead of his usual man bun, and Y/N swears every girl has their eyes trained on him. She doesn’t blame them honestly, she just wishes she wasn’t there to watch as her best friend checks the girls out as well.

It fuels a bubbling in her stomach, a queasy feeling that won’t go away. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to, being friends with Harry always led to her feeling envious of the girls he talked to. She wishes she could just accept the fact that they’ll never be together how she wants them to be, accept the fact that they’ll always just be best friends. She knows that she could treat him better than they can, she knows all the small things they’ll never know. She knows how to make him happy, how to comfort him, knows all of his secrets and ticks and cues.

She hates the painful feeling that resides in her chest, near her heart every time this happens. The horrible feeling of rejection that makes her hate the friendship they have, hates the fact that they’re so close and it’ll never go any further than that. She sighs and takes a bigger sip of her drink, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste left on her tongue. She hopes he’s too busy checking out every girl at the party to notice her discomfort, but of course he has some kind of senses that ties to her as he wraps an arm softly around her shoulders.

He gives her a soft squeeze as he leans down to whisper in her ear, only to make sure she can hear him over the bass of the song.

“Y’okay?” She can’t help the shiver that runs through her at the feeling of his breath fanning across her neck. She only nods her head meekly, she doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak for her. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away and Y/N can only sigh quietly at the lack of contact and warmth. It’s moments like these where she wishes she’s back at home, cuddles next to Harry as they do whatever. The music’s getting too loud, she’s getting warmer and her drink doesn’t taste good, that can only mean she’s getting overwhelmed.

They stay alongside each other at the party, her wrapped in his arms as time goes on. She wishes he would say they can leave, but she’s unsure how long they’ve been here and she won’t be the reason Harry leaves a party early. Harry mutters in her ear something about getting another drink and she’s sure he asked if she wanted something different. She nods her head softly and turns her head, her eyes staring into his pretty emerald eyes and she smiles at him before asking if there’s something there that doesn’t taste so bitter and he can only laugh at her. She swears his eyes look so pretty in this light, pupils slightly dilated and the green of his eyes shine in the lighting above the two of them. They stare at each other for what seems like ages, not that Y/N’s complaining any, before Harry pulls back and tells her that he’ll be right back with the drinks and she nods in response. She watches him as he makes his way through the crowd, more than likely saying excuse me and apologizing if he even brushes past someone on his journey because he’s just that polite.

— — —

Y/N hates parties. She’s mentioned this to Harry several times and he’s so persistent on changing her mind, only to be left disappointed by her response the next day or through a text. They always smell bad, it’s hot, there’s no personal space and she just absolutely despises watching Harry get hit on by every girl in the vicinity. She gets it, he’s good looking, funny and an absolute gentleman which is not something she can say applies to any other boy on campus. Harry’s a rare gem and she wishes she could keep him for herself, but alas they’re just friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She hates when they go to parties and he leaves her, usually letting her know but sometimes he’s dragged away and never comes back until he’s drunk. Another reason she hates parties is how he acts when he’s drunk. She turns into a babysitter, making sure he’s careful not to throw up on himself, bump into some guy who had too much to drink and wants a fight, and has to drive them home when she doesn’t even like driving. Not to mention, she hates how affectionate he becomes. He’s always cuddling up to her, holding her hand and calling her all sorts of sweet pet names.

She thinks that’s the worst part, because not only does it fill her heart and make it swell, but it also causes her to be the target of all of the nasty glares from the girls at the party. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, he’s managed to bring her to yet another party even though she all but begged and pleaded not to come along. It was bigger, louder, and plain annoying. She just wanted to stay in bed, cozied up underneath her softest blanket with a book and her favorite songs. Harry insisted yet again that she’ll have fun, and it shouldn’t be too big. Insisted that they wouldn’t be there very long, and that was two hours ago. Y/N’s head hurts, her back and feet hurt as well and she doesn’t know any of the songs playing through the speaker. She’s just having a miserable time meanwhile Harry’s having the time of his life, she’s lost count of how many drinks he’s already had including the one currently in his hand. She knows it’s enough to get him to loosen up, to not care about the way he’s pressed against her, one tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanning the side of her neck as he sings along to whatever song is blasting through.

They rock gently together as if it’s not an upbeat pop song, lost in his own drunken world and she just wants to go home.

“Honey, you’re just the sweetest thing. Y’know that?” His voice all but oozed into her bloodstream, warming her skin and making her fight back a smile.

“And you’re drunk, I think we should go home Harry.”’She says, hoping he listens and tells her to take them home. Instead he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and squeezes her.

“Don’t wanna leave yet, m’having fun with you.” She can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips at his words.

“I know but we could have so much more fun at home in our pj’s. Doesn’t that sound nice, Harry?” He only hums and squeezes her tighter.

“M’having fun with you baby. S’nice seeing you all pretty. Look so pretty every day.” She can’t help the heat that rushes to her cheeks at his words, the main reason she doesn’t like attending parties with him.

He’s so cuddly and loving, the line they’ve made blurs whenever he’s drunk and makes it hard to differentiate between just friendship or something more. She knows he doesn’t mean any of it though, at least not in the way she hopes he means it. She can feel the nasty glares from all of the other girls, knowing they’re wishing to be her in shoes. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in Harry’s arms with him whispering in your ear and a goofy looking smile on his lips?

“Thank you, Harry. We can still have fun at home, I won’t change so I can still be all pretty for you and it’ll just be the two of us. I’m sorry, I wanna go home, Har. It’s getting to be too much.” She says just loud enough for him to hear, her eyes scanning the crowd. He sighs before kissing her neck ever so gently, a kiss so feathery soft that if she weren’t so sober she wouldn’t even feel it.

“Fine, let’s go home then baby. Don’t want my girl to be overwhelmed.” He says before unwrapping her from his embrace only to intertwine their hands together as he leads her to the exit. She’s grateful that he’s taking charge, her brain repeating the same three words over and over again.

My girl, my girl, MY girl, my GIRL, MY GIRL.

Those two words do something to her brain, sending her spiraling into the delusion she only entertains late at night when she’s alone in her bed. The fantasy that they’ve been together for a couple months, every drunken interaction always ends with a kiss and then cuddling in the bed. She follows him outside and to their, his car and he opens the door to the drivers side for her and walks around to the passenger side. She stands by the door, making sure he can get in the car without hurting himself and he huffs, reminding her of when they were kids.

“I can get in the car by myself, love. No need to fret over me.” His accent is deeper because of the alcohol and Y/N can only sigh and roll her eyes affectionately.

“I know H, just don’t want you to hurt yourself is all.” She says softly as she pulls the seatbelt around him.

“Always so sweet for me, baby. Thank you.” He smiles at her, a dopey expression on his face and she can only smile at him in return. She closes the door gently and walks to the other side, getting into the car and starting it, immediately turning on the radio in hopes it’ll distract him from seeing the tears roll down her face.

— — —

If there’s one thing Y/N hates is going on dates. Especially if they’re dates she doesn’t necessarily want to be on, just like the one she’s on now. Harry had insisted that he takes up the majority of the time (he does) and that she needs to go out more, (she doesn’t want to) so she reluctantly agreed to go on this stupid date. She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early just in case and to prepare herself, waited for ten extra minutes for him to decide to show up smelling strongly of some cheap cologne and cigarettes. Once they were seated, things stayed somewhat relaxed as they made small talk and got to know each other; he had made some remarks she didn’t necessarily agree with but she stayed quiet.

When it came time to order, there was a certain look on his eyes when she ordered. One that felt almost as if he was… judging her? He stayed quiet otherwise though, didn’t let his disgust be known verbally and she’s thankful for that. She’s sure they’ve been at the restaurant for about thirty minutes, give or take, but this is the longest she’s been out with a guy who isn’t Harry. That has to mean something, right? Sure the conversation could be better, maybe he could talk more and maybe seem a little more interested in what she has to say, but she can’t complain too much.

She can’t help but to wonder what Harry is doing right now, probably either sleep or playing on his game system. He might be on a date as well which could explain why he was soo insistent on getting her to go on this date, but she refuses to think that’s why. She’s bored and she misses him. She always misses him though, she’s gotten so used to basically being attached at the hip with him that it feels like years whenever they’re apart (even if it’s only a couple of hours, she’s just dramatic as Harry would say.)

“So are you and Harry together, or…” The guy asks and Y/N shakes her head quickly.

“Oh.. uh no! We’re not together.” He squints his eyes at her like he doesn’t believe her, and honestly she doesn’t blame him.

“So are you guys just screwing around?” Y/N laughs, a sound in between a snort and a scoff bubbles from her lips and her date only to stare at her in confusion.

She’s heard plenty of rumors regarding her and Harry’s friendship, that they’re dating or maybe siblings, one even said she’s secretly someone famous and he’s just her bodyguard. She laughed at that one and when she told Harry he simply smiled at her and said it’s only true; she’s his princess and he vowed to protect her from any and all harm and she smacked his shoulder with a dopey smile on her lips. But to hear that people think that they’re just sleeping around with each other is new, well at least to hear it. She won’t deny the fact that sometimes late at night she’ll daydream scenarios where the two are happily together doing all the couple-y stuff but sometimes those daydreams tend to wander and turn into something filthy.

Dreams of him whispering in her ear, praising her as he rocks against her. Dreams of him maybe catching her reading her smut books and recreating them together, trying new things and exploring each other’s bodies.. She shakes her head, thankful that she can play it off as her denying the rumor.

“No, no! We’re just friends, best friends actually.” She says and laughs gently, hoping her voice doesn’t crack. He stares at her a little while longer before his gaze begins lower and he clears his throat, she knows where this is going. This happens all the time on her dates.

“Well I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” He smirks afterwards and Y/N has to hold herself back from screwing her face up in disgust.

This is usually the part where she’ll excuse herself or the date begins to head downwards, leaving her with disappointment and the small hole in her chest she’s holding out for the small chance of Harry returning her feelings begins to ache. She clears her throat in response and begins to fidget in her seat.

“Uh, yeah sure. Anyways, are you enjoying your food?” She asks in hope that it’ll detour the conversation back into safer topics.

“I mean.. it’s alright. You look gorgeous, that dress really fits you. Are you enjoying your food?” He asks as he brings his fork to his mouth and the girl has to refrain from frowning at her date.

It’s safe to say that she misses her best friend, misses being cuddled up next to him and the two of them talking about anything and everything. She misses how comfortable they are, she misses his voice, his hugs.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it so far.” She says, her voice sounding disappointed that once more her date is turning into all of her previous ones.

“I was wondering if maybe I could stay over a little after this is done. I’d love to get to know you more.” She sighs softly before answering him.

“No, I’m sorry. If you excuse me, I'm just gonna go ahead and go. It was nice meeting you, and this should be enough to cover my half.” She says as she puts a couple bills on the table in front of him, she’s sure that it’s more than enough to pay for her meal and she should stick around to get her change; she just wants to leave though, to get away from him and back to her comfort. She immediately heads to the door, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she walks to her car. The disappointment stinging her heart yet again at the ending of another unsuccessful date.

— — —

Y/N’s managed to find herself at another party but this time Harry’s not glued to her side, he’s gotten dragged off by one of his friends. She’s not sure where he went or how long he’s been gone but she is having a much better time than she usually is. She thinks drinking a little bit before she goes helps, being in the comforting embrace of just her and Harry as they take a couple of shots helps her loosen up.

So she stands in the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the crowd as she attempts to find Harry and her body swaying the music. She nurses a red solo cup filled with some alcohol that tastes better than whatever she had the last time, it doesn’t burn her throat whenever she takes a sip of it and it flows down quite nicely if you ask her. Her body feels loose and overall she feels happy, she doesn’t find herself worrying about anything or overthinking.

A few people bump into her while she stands but she doesn’t mind that much, simply apologizing to them as she steps out of the way. The music is something pleasant and she thinks she maybe knows this song as it plays through the speakers, she finds herself mouthing along to the words as she makes her way through the crowd. She’s sure Harry couldn’t have gotten too far, she just wants to tell him about whatever drink she has and tell him how much she likes it. She just wants to see him. She stumbles as she walks hinting at the fact that she might have had a little too much to drink, bumping into a few people as she passes through. It’s nice to not have to be the one that’s sober like she usually is, although she hopes Harry kept his promise and stayed sober in his role as the designated driver. It’s nice to be able to let loose and honestly, she understands a little why Harry likes to go to these things.

As she passes through the crowd with a content smile on her face, she makes sure to ask a few people if they’ve seen her best friend. Some tell her the last place they’ve seen him while others haven’t seen him, she thanks them all the same with a smile on her face. She continues passing through the crowd until she finds a little glimpse of an opening in the crowd, the people slowly beginning to thin out and the music grows softer. When she makes it all the way through she sees Harry leaning against a wall, one hand nervously fidgeting with his hair and the other wrapped around his phone tightly.

He bites at his bottom lip nervously and she just wants to coo at him, kiss him and hug him forever.

“What’s a matter?” She asks as she steps closer to the boy, and his face immediately lights up and all of the tension seems to melt away.

“Couldn’t find you, honey. I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there, I tried to call you and you didn’t answer. I thought you… I was scared.” He says as he wraps her tight in his arms. She doesn’t try to say anything, she knows how he gets whenever he’s nervous and assuming the worst happened, allows him to take in the moment and to calm him down. They rock gently, his face pressed into her hair as he breathes her scent in.

He pulls away a couple minutes later and they stare at each other, his brow furrowed and lips slicked with spit, jade irises shining under the lights and filled with relief and care. Y/N doesn’t know what came over her, what led her to do what she’s about to do but her in the future better be prepared and absolutely angry at herself for drinking so much. She slowly begins to lean forward, tilt her head and pucker her lips subtly. Of course, Harry doesn’t think much of it or doesn’t care when their lips meet.

Slow and tender, she doesn’t bother to move her lips. She’s content with a peck, doesn't need to be greedy. He just looked so pretty that she couldn’t help herself. Harry’s arms are tight around her, keeping her close to him as if she planned on walking away again. She pulls away with a soft click and she licks her own lips, a goofy smile on her face as she stares at him.

“‘M so lucky.” She says, her words kinda slowed and all Harry can do is stare in shock at the girl.

He’s unsure what to do now although he knows the responsible thing to do is to take her home, get her changed and tucked into bed where there definitely won’t be anymore kisses and she’ll be safe and sound. He just stares at her, her eyes unfocused and her eyelashes wet as she stares back. The music blares but to them it’s simply background music, the two of them seemingly secluded away in their own personal bubble. It’s usually how it always is though, wherever they go but it always happens at these parties Harry drags her to, they’ll isolate themselves somewhere in a corner and just chat away until Harry decides to mingle with the other party goers. Harry thinks she’s pretty like this, well he usually always thinks she’s pretty. He likes to see her dress up though, which is why he invites her to so many of these parties, likes knowing all of the girls there envy Y/N because she’s his best friend.

A couple minutes go by, hours maybe but Harry doubts it, and Harry decides to take a couple steps back and rubs his hands down her arms to interlace their fingers together.

“Hey, love bug. You ready to go home?” He asks gently, wary of the fact that she could be more emotional and isn’t thinking straight in the first place for her to kiss him. The girl simply nods her head and allows the boy to lead her through the party crowd and outside, while Harry makes sure she doesn’t bump into any cars on the way to his own car. The breeze is soft and warm, gently caressing their cheeks as it passes through. The sun is filtering through the clouds, landing on Y/N’s face as they walk.

It doesn’t take very long to reach his car because he almost always parks as close to the entrance to make it easier for the other to escort them to the car when they’re drunk. It usually always ends up being Harry, so it feels weird in a way to have the roles reversed, to have him being the one taking care of her. He unlocks the car when they get close enough, his arm wrapped securely around the drunken girl just in case she stumbles. He listens as she rambles about something he can’t make out, her words slurring together due to excitement and her being drunk. A quality of hers that he’s always found endearing, so he lets her ramble of course, humming along to show he’s listening and only occasionally adding his own input when asked and he’s able to make out what she’s doing.

He opens the door for her, getting her all settled in and closing the door behind him, walking around to the driver’s side and starting the car. Once he starts driving, the radio stays off and the windows down to let in the breeze, Harry tries his best to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

— — —

Two weeks have passed since the drunken kiss incident and neither of them have really said much about it. Harry brought it up to her a couple days later and she only laughed and said it’s okay, everyone does stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Nothing has changed between the two necessarily, maybe Harry’s been going out of his way to walk her to her class and yeah maybe they have to be touching in any way. Whether it be holding hands like how they used to do, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, or their arms slung across the other waist or shoulders.

So he assumes that there’s nothing else to make of it, it’s not a big deal and honestly if it hasn’t affected their friendship, then he doesn’t mind ignoring it. He has noticed that she’s been the one to initiate the physical touch now, more open about it whereas before she shied away from it in hopes to not upset any of the girls in school. She doesn’t swat at his chest whenever he calls her the exaggerated pet names he used purposely to annoy her, she even said a few of them back. Sure, sometimes he’ll catch her looking at him with eyes all gooey late at night but that must be because she hasn’t had enough sleep.

They’re still the same two best friends like before, just a smidge different but it’s not a bad difference. Y/N thinks she could be okay with the way they are now, living in her own little imagination where they’re more than friends.

Which is why Y/N’s confused whenever Harry knocks on her door early in the morning. Ten in the morning isn’t super early but it’s definitely earlier than she’d like to be awake on a day where she has absolutely nothing else to do. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she gets out of bed and throws on some clothes as she makes her way to the door of her dorm. When she opens it, she sees Harry and a beautiful brunette by his side. She looks familiar to the girl, maybe they’ve shared a class before but all in all Y/N’s confused. Harry usually doesn’t stop by without letting her know (not that it mattered, he was over all the time it seemed) and definitely never brought another girl by.

“Harry? What’s going on?” Y/N asks, a yawn escaping her mouth afterwards and the other girl just smiles at Harry.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Liv. Liv, this is my best friend Y/N.” Harry says as he points at the girls, introducing them.

Y/N knows the respectful and proper thing to do is to greet her and welcome them into her to get to know one another, but she can’t wrap her brain around it all. She stares at them, more at the girl than Harry. She can’t bring herself to look at him without wanting to cry, she watches as Liv leans forward to give her a hug and tells her how it’s so great to finally meet her and then Y/N’s slamming the door in their face. She stares at the now closed door and hurries to lock it, she’s sure Harry will just open the door even though deep down she knows he won’t do that unless told otherwise that he can.

Usually, he talks to her about the girls he’s interested in, asks her if it’s okay to bring them over and gives her plenty of time to have her - unknown to him - breakdowns and prepare herself for this moment. She’s not sure when this happened or why he didn’t talk to her about it first, the only thing she’s sure of is the absolute heartache she feels right now. The painful jab in her heart with every beat, the feeling of her stomach falling. The pain that’s beginning to bloom in her head and the feeling of her knees hitting the floor, hard enough to leave a bruise but she can’t bring herself to care about that at the moment.

The immediate sting in her eyes as tears well up and fall from her eyes, the betrayal, the jealousy tearing its way up. The heartache overall is one she’s felt in smaller amounts as she listens to Harry talk about whichever girl he’s interested in asking out, but this.. this is something completely different. It’s intense, it burns and she can’t breathe. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, beating faster than normal.

She lets out loud sobs, cries she should be embarrassed of but at this moment she can’t bring herself to care. She’s grateful her roommates aren’t here, they kept telling her it’s not worth it to stay best friends with Harry due to how much she liked him. She constantly argued that she knew what she was doing, she could handle her own if something like this happened. She should’ve listened to them, would she have stopped being friends with Harry? She doesn’t think so, might’ve been distant to allow her feelings to dwindle back down.

She’s not sure how long she stayed on the floor as tears streamed down her face when her phone rings. She grabs it and stares at the screen, Harry’s name flashing across the screen and she just sighs as she turns the ringer off and sets the phone on the couch. She can’t talk to him right now. She stares at the floor, memories of their friendship flicking in and out, the memory of their kiss haunts her, she feels stupid. She hoped they were moving towards a relationship, how silly of her to think they could ever be more than just friends.

After a couple hours, she manages to pull herself from the floor and begins to make her way to her bed. Her safe haven, she can wrap herself in her softest blanket and read her silly little romance books or watch her favorite movie, where she can wallow in her own self pity. There’s a knock on the door, whoever’s on the other side knocks one, two, three times before it goes silent. She hopes they’ll go away, her roommates have a key so it can’t be someone she has to open the door for.

“Y/N. It’s me, Harry. I don’t know what I did that upset you so much, she’s gone. It’s just me. Please open the door, let’s talk about this.” He says, somewhat muffled but she can still hear how his voice is watery and shaky, can hear the pain in his voice and she just sniffles as she walks towards the door.

“There’s… nothing to talk about. Go home.” Her voice is just a reflection on how she feels right now, she’s sure he can hear it from the other side.

“Yes there is, Y/N. You slammed the door, the look on your face… I don’t know what all that was about but you looked so hurt. I want to know what happened.” He says and she just frowns.

He’s never paid attention to how her face looked before so why does it matter, she opens the door and stares at him. Fresh tears welling up in the girls’ eyes and she swears she can feel her heart breaking even more. He looks just about how she thinks she looks. His eyes full of tears and eyelashes all clumped together, red cheeks stained with tears and his skin flushed. His lips are wet and he can’t stop pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You happened, Harry. I tried, God I tried so hard to get over it. But I can’t. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to hear you talk about the girls you like knowing it’s not me, hurts hearing all the girls gossip about you and the things you do for them. It hurts when you’re drunk and treating me like I’m yours, calling me all these sweet fucking pet names and holding me close to you. It hurts that we act like we’re together and we just aren’t, we’ll never be. I love you so much that I’m just hurting myself in the process. I’m so scared to lose you that I tell myself that just being your friend is okay. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” A sob interrupts her, a wet choking sound and she sighs.

“I can’t just keep hoping and praying that something will happen and we’ll finally be together, it hurts too much. I’m so lucky to have you in my life and be your friend, but I don’t know if I can handle just being your friend. I can’t handle hoping that I’ll get my chance. I’m tired of waiting for something that’ll never happen. I’m not cutting you out because I don’t want to lose you, I just need some time alone. I need to get over you and learn how to be okay with just being your friend and nothing more.” She says through her tears and immediately she’s wrapped in a strong hug, his scent filling her nose and she cries even harder.

“I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you and didn’t see it. Take as much time as you need honey, I’ll be waiting for you always.”

“Okay, thank you.” She says as she pulls away and he nods, a sad smile on his face that she wishes wasn’t because of her.

“I love you.” He says before she shuts the door once more, the wall of their friendship being built slowly.

‘I love you’ she thinks is just the worst thing she’s ever heard, just a painful reminder that the love they share has never been on the same page, just another shatter of her already broken heart.

You can’t have love without the pain, and she’s the definition of just how much love can truly hurt you.

[evergone]

I'm [Nott] a Bad Person

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, bullying

Description: The reader and Theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it.

Professor McGonagall’s office was a little too **Gryffindor-esque for your tastes. The couches, wallpaper, and even the rug on the floor underneath her desk were all some shade of dark red and you had no other way to describe it other than ‘detestably Gryffindor.’ Even so, the fireplace opposite the door warmed the room and gave it that undeniably homey feel you always got when you returned to Hogwarts after the long, hot break between years. She had a few paintings hanging from her walls, but either the subjects were busy elsewhere or she just had a thing for landscapes. One in particular caught your eye, a painting of the Forbidden Forest where you had certainly never been. After all, it was forbidden and you, ever the obedient Slytherin, would never break a rule.

“Do you know why you are here?” The professor asked and your attention slid back to the situation you were in.

“I know why they’re here,” Theo responded from your left, “But Y/n and I are victims.”

“Oh, please, you lot started this whole thing!” Granger squeaked like that little mouse the weasel kid used to have.

“Do you ever shut up, Granger?” Theo retorted.

Your lips tightened as you attempted to stifle a laugh and Theo sent you a quick smirk. McGonagall cleared her throat, again regaining your limited attention span as she tapped impatiently on her brown wooden desk; creating a dum-dum, dum-dum sound under the pads of her fingers like a heartbeat. Furrowed brows and an intense stare told you more than enough about her absolutely foul mood, and you reminded yourself not to play around with her.

“Each of you, tell me the story,” she said, “You first, Mister Potter.”

Theo muttered an ‘of course’ under his breath but you pretended not to hear it. If anyone was to get in trouble you were going to make damn sure it wasn’t you. You had a reputation to uphold; the nicest Slytherin anyone would ever meet. A façade, obviously, you were just as ruthless and cunning as your housemates, but the nice façade was what made you so. It was truly a shame Potter and co. had found you out, but you intended to cover your ass so well that no one else would ever know the truth about you, save for your friends.

“Well, uh…” Potter began to recount his version of the tale.

Apparently (and I say ‘apparently’ because despite his story being almost entirely accurate, you were going to make up a completely different one to get away with this), he had come to you in a free period to ask about how to befriend dragons quickly, knowing as well as most that your family had been breeding dragons since the dawn of dragonology. You were skeptical of him, having never quite interacted with him directly, only through the wild stories Draco or Pansy would tell you or small altercations in the halls that you always pulled Theo away from. Draco could do as he wished but you wouldn’t see yourself or your boyfriend being implicated in his shenanigans.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you had told Potter.

“And why’s that?” He asked.

“All my friends say that you’re — and I’m quoting them here — ‘a mudblood mingling cunt,’” you said, “And though I have no care in the world for blood purity, I do like my friends quite a bit. They wouldn’t hang out with me if I got caught with you.”

You always had a wonderful way of putting things. Your monotonous voice mixed with your incredibly harsh words made for the most readable and expressive conversations. Potter’s little muggle born girlfriend (or girl friend, whichever it was) had almost jumped out of her own socks at your foul language. Personally offended, perhaps? You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just sort of slipped out. Maybe if you were actually a nicer person you’d apologise.

“Just… give me a hand? I know you helped Cedric,” Potter pleaded.

You shrugged, “I really can’t talk to you,” you said, “Though… I am weak to bribery… Maybe if you find me something I want I’ll help you out. Bye.”

And then you pushed through the group to go find your friends who you were bound to find eating in the courtyard instead of studying. Smart kids never studied and neither did dumb kids. When Crabbe and Goyle were there it was easy to tell the difference, but other times, not so much. Allegedly (again, I say this to protect the integrity of the tale you would later tell), you stopped half a step through and turned to show Potter your badge.

“Draco says you really like them,” you laughed, “Get a closer look.”

Desperate for your help and willing to do anything, Potter leaned closer to watch as the red ‘Support Cedric’ turned to the green ‘Potter stinks’ but then a forth colour emerged, a deep purple with no writing. He opened his mouth to ask what that colour meant, but was abruptly cut off when the badge squirted the most revolting smelling purple goo all over him. Again, allegedly, you had cursed it to do that when it saw his face… You would argue that someone must have cursed it prior to giving it to you without your knowing.

“Now you really do stink!” You had smiled sarcastically, “Bye now.”

You then continued on your journey to find your friends, leaving Potter drenched in the most malodorous thing he had ever smelt.

Later that very same day, he had approached you at lunch with a bribe. Oh, how you loved to be bribed. You were like a politician in that sense. He placed two objects in front of you: a book you knew was from the restricted section titled ‘Advanced Curses and How to Master Them,’ and a purse full of coins which, after peeking through the opening at the top, you realised were all gold.

“You know, you shouldn’t bribe people so out in the open, Potter,” You motioned to Theo, Pansy and Draco, all of whom were giving you looks that asked what in the name of Salazar were you doing, “It’s… counterproductive.”

“Merlin’s beard, L/n, just take it and help me,” Potter said.

“Is he bothering you, Y/n?” Theo asked.

You’d glanced between your boyfriend and Potter, wondering what to do in the situation. Potter noticed you’d become flustered at being put on the spot like that, even mentioned it to McGonagall. Truthfully, your head was telling you to say no because you knew as well as anyone how Theo could be when you were uneasy. He was awfully protective. But your heart wanted you to say yes so you could start a little fight and make your friends and Theo proud. You were never quite as provocative as they were when it came to the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing and it made you slightly self conscious, to be honest.

You would tell McGonagall that your head won, and Potter had started the fight. Theo was only defending you from the very scary Gryffindor who had decided to attack you just because you didn’t want to help him out earlier. But, in all honesty, your heart had won, or so the story goes.

“Yes, Teddy, he’s been bothering me all day,” you had said.

“How ‘bout you leave, Potter?” Theo asked, but it was hardly a question.

Potter rolled his eyes, “We had a deal, L/n.”

“I don’t think she would’ve agreed to anything with you,” Theo said and (allegedly) shoved Potter from across the table.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose. Potter’s explanation of the situation was riddled with what you would call lies about getting his shit rocked by Theo’s incredible fighting skills. You’d bloodied your boyfriend up afterwards using a little glamour charm you kept handy in case of emergencies. That was yet another way you were like a politician, you were incredible at deceiving people. On the off chance McGonagall noticed the charm, Theo had agreed to take the fall and stage an argument with you where you’d break up with him. The relationship wouldn’t be destroyed, you’d just act strained for a week or so while he did detention.

“Miss L/n, these are a lot of accusations being thrown,” McGonagall said, her eyes staring down at you over her nose, “What say you?”

You let your bottom lip quiver, but you wouldn’t dare cry. That would be too much and she wouldn’t believe you for a second. You may have had a good reputation, but she loved Potter and co. and had a huge bias in their favour. You had to be so convincing that she wouldn’t have a single doubt.

“I just didn’t want to get involved,” you said, “Professor, I’m a Slytherin, there’s a certain… standard that I’m held to. I told Potter that I didn’t want to help him because everyone would be upset with me and he tried to bribe me of his own accord.”

“She’s obviously lying, Professor, please—”

“Miss Granger, Miss L/n didn’t interrupt your telling of events, I suggest you don’t interrupt hers.”

You continued to lie through your teeth like a professional. You’d think McGonagall would know to use a truth serum when dealing with teenagers, but she was too trusting. Photographs of former students were framed on her desk, others who likely lied to her as you were doing. They were mostly Gryffindors, for obvious reasons, but there were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the odd Slytherin as well, all of them moving slightly in celebration of their graduations. Potter and co. would likely end up on that desk one day and while you’d hope yourself and your friends would end up on Snape’s, he had never come across as the sentimental type.

“One of you aren’t telling me the truth,” McGonagall said with a sigh once you had finished your recount, “Know that I’m disappointed in you but I cannot be bothered to deal with this today. If I hear about troubles with you lot again I will not hesitate to give you all detention.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Professor’s filled the room before she shooed you all out to go your separate ways. At the door to her office which she had closed behind the four of you, or rather, the two and two of you, Theo turned to the others.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish, Potter,” he said with a snarky tone.

Potter and Granger hardly acknowledged the remark, and you found yourself missing the weasel boy who would have leapt at the opportunity to throw something back. At your core, you liked to consider yourself morally good, but Merlin’s beard, you were a bit of an instigator, perhaps even a bully, weren’t you? You glanced at Theo, who you hadn’t realised had begun a little bit of a rant about blood superiority, and laughed out loud.

“What?” He asked you, his head on the slightest tilt that it was hardly noticeable.

“I think you and the others have turned me into a bad person,” you giggled, biting your lip.

“Y/n/n, that’s so fucking mean,” he said, “You are so rude.”

“I learnt from the best,” you teased as you poked his arm.

Theo shook his head and captured your arm in his so the two of you could walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Hi hi hi! Loved ur mk1 sick!reader headcanons, they so silly so cute!

May I request headcanons for hypersomniac!reader? Like they're always tired and sleepy. I mainly wanna see Shang Tsung and Kenshi <3 so feel free to include anyone else you'd like, male or female 🥰

MK1 characters and hypersomniac! reader

(shang tsung, kenshi, kung lao + extra lin kuei trio)

this request was from MARCH um hey... hi... sorry... but im back....requests are open....

Shang Tsung

-He seems like the extremely productive type, so I can’t say I think he’d appreciate someone who is on the more tired side. 

-Will be a gigantic diva whenever you mention it, talking about how ‘he’s been up for thirty hours and hasn’t so much as made a pip!’ 

-Would make all sorts of alarming potions and elixirs to prevent you from feeling drowsy- for the most part they don’t work because he doesn't really know how to make things without lethal side effects (and does not want you to DIE)

-He makes a big deal that he’s going to dissect you or experiment on you if you fall asleep as a scare tactic, and you’ll jolt awake from a sweaty nap terrified that you don’t have all your limbs

-(You are just in the corner of his work space, bundled in pelts and left untouched) (This is overkill on the pelts you are melting here.)

-He turns around and looks at you like WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT! NO I DIDN’T EXPERIMENT ON YOU ARE YOU STUPID!! But it is ultimately well meaning… you think?

-In all honesty I think Shang Tsung is the kind to get irritated by constant noise, especially when he’s trying to focus, so if you’re more mellow because of it, he would personally appreciate it. 

-He will exclusively refer to you as sleepyhead or ‘you sleeping lug’ thought i hope you're ok with that

-Will flick your nose if he sees you nodding off

Kenshi

-I feel like he’d be an insomniac, losing sleep because of everything he’s gone through

-Depending on his mood he’d either be irritated or soothed by your hypersomniac tendencies 

-Though because he's an earthrealmer (read: someone with a phone and google) he’d be able to do his own research and realize that it’s something that can impact you too 

-Just like how nights are hard for him, daytime can be a struggle for you as well, and as much as he can rationalize this his head he does metaphorically roll his (late) eyes when he sees you nodding off.

-He feels very chivalrous when you fall asleep against his shoulder so it does get  you good brownie points there

-If someone noisier came in he’d do the super suave cool guy thing where he just puts a finger to his lips and then points at you (would feel very cool afterwards)

-In the event that yall go grocery shopping he will be at the pharmacist counter the entire time asking about vitamins supplements remedies etc and in the end you’ll have a bedside table full of pill bottles that make you feel geriatric 

-Will use you feeling tired as an excuse to leave any social function and will be so happy (you were not fine he was just extremely overwhelmed) ((he hates house parties the floor plan is unfamiliar))

-He’s lived a stressful life and is thankful to take it slower with you

-Until you’ve fallen asleep halfway through a movie and he needs you to describe a scene GET UP I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SWORD THE GUY IS USING IS IT ACCURATE

Kung Lao 

-Takes it upon himself to jumpscare you the moment he sees you dozing off

-He just finds it hilarious, and you DID say you wanted to feel less tired throughout the day!

-Unfortunately he’d be the least gracious about it if you were sensitive about your hypersomnia (even against shang god bless you) but would also never take it to heart

-Maybe the first or second time you fell asleep around him, he’d worry that you found him boring, but once you explain it to him he Does Not Mind at all

-I mean it's The Great Kung Lao how can you NOT feel lulled to sleep safe and sound (completely rhetorical question)

-In all honestly I think your condition might start to change the most you spend around him, either you’d become totally immune to him and therefore ALL noise intervention, or start being more awake

-Would start stacking mahjong tiles on your head, tying your shoelaces together, seeing how much he could do before you woke up

-This means that if you caught him dozing off you have full permission to take his hat and run off to hide it somewhere

-Start the timer, GO! Let’s see how long it takes for him to find it this time! (It’s lodged into the ceiling) ((he will take an hour to find it))

Kuai Liang

-If you are under him in the Shirai Ryu or Lin Kuei, i imagine he would be tough on you like a mentor 

-But if not? He would find you incredibly endearing, always making sure that the places you frequently met in the compound had nearby shade or comfortable seating 

-Encourages you to rest if you are tired, if you want to stop falling asleep, he’ll offer tea

Tomas Vrbada

-Gets scared by you while walking past you since you’re so quiet

-You scared the ninja! Good on you 

-Yells, jolts you awake, then apologizes profusely and then promptly asks if you are interested in becoming a ninja under his tutelage 

Bi Han 

-As long as you stay out of his line of schedule you’re fine

-I too would be pissed if I worked the whole day only to see a sleepy lil guy 

-Yawns whenever you yawn and then yells at you for making him yawn 

[myseungsunglove]

The Master of Flirting | Bc

Pairing: Chan  x Reader 

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, language

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The reader and Chan forge an unlikely connection and bond and venture into territory that is unfamiliar to both. 

A/N: This thought came to me while Chan was sending messages on bubble Sunday. I’m completely delulu. You can join me or not. Whatever floats your boat. I’m not picky. Inspiration hit, and I had to pump this out. Maybe there will be more. We’ll see. 

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Feedback Welcome

「© August 13, 2023 by mysweethannie」

Sunday Bubble Messages from Chan.

Channie: I heard that supposedly I’m the master of flirting. 

Y/n: oh? Is that so? 

You knew how Bubble worked, but it was always fun when Chan got into these playful moods on Bubble. You couldn’t help but feel like you were having a conversation with him. 

The notification buzzes on your phone. You chuckle and open the app. 

Channie: makes no sense 

Y/n: Very few things in this life make sense, if we’re being honest. 

Channie: I don’t even know what flirting is. 

Y/n: me either, frankly. Can I get a dictionary definition please? It may help clear things up for both of us. 

The messages continue in the app, and you can’t help but chuckle at how adorable he is. He proceeds to tell STAYS they’re pretty and that that isn’t flirting, it’s just facts. He even goes as far as to remind everyone they’re perfect, and bless him he knows the right things to say to make anyone giggle like they are something special. Eventually the messages die down, and it makes you wish there would be a Chan’s room to look forward to. Damn do you miss those. 

You flip over to instagram and scroll through your fyp and some of the messages from your roommate spamming you with videos they found funny. Right before you’re about to return to your scrolling, you notice you have a request to receive a message. Your account is private, so it’s rare that anyone ever requests to message you. Everyone you want to have access to you there already has it. Curiosity wins over though and you click on the small request box. 

You stop dead in your tracks. 

gnabnahc wants to send you a message. 

This has to be a joke. Chan only started his account a couple weeks ago. It’s sad that he must’ve been hacked already. How does that even happen, you wonder to yourself. 

You can’t help but click on the message though, curiosity eating away at you. 

Bang Chan: flirting - as defined by the dictionary - to behave as though attracted to or trying to attract someone, but for amusement rather than with serious intentions.

What the hell? You think to yourself. Wait. How would a hacker know what you said in Bubble. Better yet, how the hell would someone find your insta from Bubble?

Then you remember you use the same username and picture in both Bubble and Instagram. What. An. Idiot. You can’t help but think. 

You click accept on the message and open up the chat. There is more there and your mouth continues to gape as you read on. 

Bang Chan: Damn. That definition is kind of harsh. I’m not sure that clears anything up for me. Hahahahaha 

Okay. That’s definitely Chan. There is no way this is a coincidence. You think carefully before doing anything. You click on the profile and it takes you to Chan’s official instagram. These messages are coming from the account that he just started weeks ago. Your mind is racing at the thought. 

You hop back over to messages quickly. 

Y/username: to be fair, I think it accurately describes me. 😂😂 

You see his username pop up immediately as he starts to type. 

Bang Chan: You mean you actually flirt for amusement with no serious intentions? I’m wounded. *clutches chest dramatically* 

Y/username: Christopher. You can’t tell me you don’t do the same damn thing. Be honest. You’re delulu but not seriously that bad, right? 

Bang Chan: delulu? Whatever do you mean? 

Bang Chan: Okay, fine. I’m caught. But I do mean the things I say when I tell STAYS how proud I am of them. And how beautiful they are. And that I love them. 

Bang Chan: I guess flirting makes it feel a little less lonely sometimes. 

You’re surprised at the honesty coming from him. And you still can’t believe this conversation is happening. 

Y/username: In a crowded room, surrounded by people but still feel alone. 

Bang Chan: exactly. 

Y/username: why me? 

Bang Chan: what do you mean? 

Y/username: like how did you find me? Are you really Bang Chan? I have so many questions. *laughs nervously* 

Bang Chan: hmmm

Bang Chan: first, your username and picture are the same in Bubble and Insta. I kind of shot in the dark on that one. But even your quotes were the same, so I took a chance. I always see your replies in Bubble. You’re funny. And sometimes I feel like I’m just talking to you. And I wanted to actually talk to you for once. 

Y/username: Wow. I—

Bang Chan: second, I’ll prove this isn’t a joke. 

Immediately you get a bubble notification. Chan has sent another message. You open the app and it’s a selfie and a picture of him in the studio, clearly it’s current. He is sitting in the chair you’ve seen hundreds of times in the room that has become so familiar to STAYS. 

Shortly after that, your notification dings in instagram. 

Bang Chan: *video  sent* 

You watch the video.

“Hi!” Chan giggles on the screen. He is wearing the same clothes as the selfie he sent on Bubble and is sitting in the studio. 

“This is the craziest thing I’ve done in a long time,” he laughs nervously. “Maybe ever,” he amends, smiling so bright his eyes disappear into tiny slits. “I hope this is proof enough, yeah? Cause I really like talking to you and uh,” he laughs again, looking away from the camera for a moment. “And I’d really like to keep talking if that’s okay, yeah?” 

The video ends there. You sit staring at your phone, absolutely dumbfounded. You can’t believe this is happening to you. 

Y/username: okay. You’re really you. 

Bang Chan: I’m really me

Y/username: hullo *runs and hides in the corner*

Bang Chan: okay, you’re too cute. Don’t get shy now. You’re always the funniest responses in Bubble. This isn’t different. 

Y/username: okay, but to be fair I never in a million years thought you’d ever actually SEE my responses there. Even if it did feel like sometimes you were responding to me, I wasn’t about to think that was true or remotely possible. 

Bang Chan: well, think again? I guess? Because I definitely was gearing my conversations towards you on multiple occasions over the last few months when I sent messages. And honestly, I needed to actually talk to you because, well, I wanted you to know we were talking.No real way to do that on Bubble without it being weird and the company jumping on my ass, so now you know. 

Y/username: now I know. 

Bang Chan: so tell me about yourself. I know you’re the same age as me. I recall you live in the states. You’ve said that on Bubble a time or two. *smiles* You love rainy days. You melt when I sing, especially if I’m singing with Han or Seungmin. You’re a sucker for a good rap line. 

Y/username: you remember all that? Hell you saw all that? 

Bang Chan: told you I was paying attention. I’m nothing if not honest. 

Y/username: duly noted. Honesty is the best policy after all. 

Bang Chan: let’s see. You’re really beautiful. You said once you loved singing which I’m dying to hear. 

Y/username: correction: not beautiful. Just kind of exist. Also, trust me, I’m nothing compared to you guys in the vocal department. You don’t want to hear me. nope. no way. 

Bang Chan: don’t say that about yourself. Please. And can I please hear your voice? You’ve heard mine. It’s only fair. 

Y/username: *glares* 

Bang Chan: *sends picture* 

He is pouting at the camera, his eyes big and pleading and you can’t help but smile. 

Y/username: you’re kind of a little shit, you know that? 

Bang Chan: me? Never? *sends picture* 

This one he is smiling big, his eye disappearing he is smiling so big. 

Y/username: god. And you’re cute. Fine. 

Bang Chan: fine? do i win? 

Y/username: *sends video* You send a video of you singing a verse from “Iris” a Goo Goo Dolls song. 

“And I’d give up forever to touch you. 

Cause I know that you feel me somehow. 

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be. 

And I don’t wanna go home right now. 

And all I can taste is this moment. 

And all I can breathe is your life. 

When sooner or later it’s over. 

I just don’t wanna miss you tonight.” 

Bang Chan: oh my god. That was fucking incredible. 

*sends video* 

“Seriously, y/n. Your voice is incredible.” He smiles brightly. “I really am blown away. Damn. I—…” he laughs, covering his face, his ears turning red. “I know this seems crazy, but I really wanna meet you, yeah? I just, feel this connection. I know this is crazy. God, what am I doing? Any chance you can come to KCon? I’d get you VIP tickets, hell, I’d pay for your flight at this point. And you could stay where we’re staying. Meet the boys, god, Chan, what are you doin?” 

The video ends there and you’re stunned. You can’t believe what just happened. Your mind is racing. 

*audio call from instagram Bang Chan is calling* 

You don’t know what you’re thinking when you hit accept. The little phone turns green. 

“Hullo? Y/n? Ya there?” Chan’s voice comes through your speaker and shakes you from your trance. 

“Yeah, I’m here. Hi,” you chuckle, your voice squeaking a bit. 

“Hi,” he responds and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I meant everything I said in that video. I know it’s crazy and I— well I had to say it. Take a chance.” 

“You meant it?” you asked, still unsure and in disbelief at the course of events over the last hour. 

“Every word,” he assures you. “In fact, I maybe already have the ticket and am currently looking at flights,” he admits. 

“Holy shit, Chan. Seriously?” 

“I know,” he laughs nervously. “I don’t know what’s getting into me.” 

“I like it, whatever it is,” you chuckle. “God, I just don’t want to massively disappoint you because that feels like that will happen. Since we’re being honest.” You pause. “We’re still doing that, right? The honesty thing?” you joke.

“We are. And you won’t be a disappointment. I don’t do things like this, so trust me when I say, I want to meet you. I  need to,” he sounds so vulnerable admitting that. “And I hope you want to come out to LA.” 

“I really do,” you admit. “So am I really doing this?” 

“Just say the word, and I’ll get everything arranged. And I mean everything, so don’t argue,” he says firmly. 

You can’t help but laugh. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” he asks tentatively. 

“Do your thang, Bang Chan,” you laugh. You don’t know what’s gotten into you either, but you’re gonna go with the punches at this point. This is absolutely the craziest and possibly the most reckless thing you’ve ever done, but hell it feels good. 

“Wow! Okay,” he laughs. “Okay! I need to get off here and arrange everything. I’ll call you back with all the details, yeah? I need your address for your airport pickup and to book the flight. I can take care of everything else. My manager will arrange for the hotel. God this is really happening.” 

“It would seem so,” you laugh. 

“This is crazy,” you say at the same time. Then you both laugh. 

“Okay, I gotta go finalize this because I’m not missing my chance to meet you. I’ll call back. God, I’m so excited. Talk soon, yeah?” 

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye Chan.” 

“Byeom darling.” 

He ends the call and you're stunned in silence once more. He called you darling. What on earth was happening!? The reality of the situation hits you head on. You’re going to LA. To see Bang fucking Chan. And to meet all of the Stray Kids. Holy shit. How was this your life? You jump up and immediately start making arrangements. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone, but everything else can wait because opportunities like this never just happen and you’re not gonna let this one pass you by. 

Not on your life. KCon or bust! Look out LA because y/n is coming to town! 

| Pt. 2 - The Mystery of You >

[writerblue275]

How Heartsteel would act when they are tipsy. (18+)

Let me say this right off the bat: PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY (AND ONLY IF YOU’RE OF LEGAL AGE TO BE DRINKING). BE KIND TO YOUR LIVERS AND FOLLOW LAWS Y’ALL.

(Seriously drinking too much is not fun. Either while you’re drinking, or the day after. I once learned the hard way in college that I become extremely emotional if I have a bit much and it’s just straight up not a good time. I still drink, but very occasionally and not much.)

Inspiration: Now all that being said……I’d love to have a drink or two with the Heartsteel members. I think that would be so fun!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff (I’m still saying this is 18+ only. I’m American so technically the legal drinking age where I am is 21, but I know for a lot of places around the world the legal age to drink is 18.)

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

TW: We’re talking about alcohol use in this one. Mention of a drinking game or two. Mention of sobriety. Swearing.

Aphelios

If you want a calm, chill, but still fun night, Aphelios is the guy to drink with. 100/10 vibes and I’m all here for it.

This is when he’d use more sign language to communicate. (I’m imagining tipsy Phel signing incredibly cheesy pick up lines to his partner and I’m OBSESSED.)

And you know how words can start to slur when people get tipsy? That concept maybe translates into his sign language juuuuust a little bit. Maybe a slightly sloppy sign here or there. But you know him well enough that you know what he’s trying to say.

And while he’s not super touchy, when he’s tipsy, he’s definitely staying connected to you somehow.

Either through linked hands/pinkies, an arm around you, or just some other way of him keeping connected to you.

You two turn into the parent couple a little bit, making sure everyone, including yourselves, is staying safe and hydrated. Aphelios might be mischievous and like pranks, but he knows when it’s time to be more serious, and keeping everyone safe when alcohol is involved is definitely a time to be more serious. (Surprise surprise, you might have thought Yone would be the parent but he’s already the band mom sober. The man needs a break. Out of the other members, I actually think Phel could wrangle people pretty well.)

Ezreal

Ezreal would be such a fun person to drink with just in general, but especially as your S/O. He’s energetic, fun, generally positive. In my experience, those people make for enjoyable beverage buddies (alcoholic or not). He’s the life of any party (#1).

He’s also a lightweight. Absolutely no question in my mind. He’s not a large man by any means. (I love this teeny pop prince.)

It doesn’t matter if the two of you have been together for years, once he’s tipsy, he’s pulling out all his best (read: cheesy as fuck) pick up lines and using them on you.

“Hey, my name is Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” “Ez, we’ve been dating for over a year.” “Yes we have. And? Can I not flirt with my own partner?” “…Ok that’s very sweet, please continue.” (He always manages to make you blush and make it feel like the first time you met him.)

Only uses them on you though. As flirty as Ez can be, this green bean is LOYAL to you. Only you get his flirty side. Anyone else tries flirting with him and they get some truly bombastic side eye.

Otherwise Ezreal’s just really fun to chat with or play drinking games with. The absolute best beer pong partner. There’s no one more accurate. And unless you’re sitting out a round, he’ll always ask you to be his #2. It doesn’t matter how good or bad you are. When you do sit out and he plays, there’s always an argument about who gets to be his partner. The next best player is Sett, who is also very good, so there’s a house rule that the two of them can’t be on a team together 😂.

Kayn

I was struggling to figure out how to describe Kayn while drinking, and now I realize why I was struggling so very much…

Plot twist: Kayn is sober. (Shoutout to anyone on a sobriety journey, for whatever reason. I have so much respect for you. Our society loves to glorify alcohol and drinking culture, so for those who actively choose to go against that, props to you.)

I genuinely don’t think he drinks at all. Maybe he did in the past but he doesn’t currently. Rock stars historically haven’t always had the best relationship with substances. This could be one of those situations where he realized he didn’t like who he was when he drank.

Kayn is self-aware enough to know he’s already fairly impulsive and a little wild while sober. Alcohol added to that mix wasn’t helping anything. So he stopped and surrounded himself with a network of people that fully support his decision (that ofc includes you and the other Heartsteel members).

Now all of that being said, Kayn still likes to enjoy himself. He’s a fan of fancy beverages, even if they’re non-alcoholic, so he’s always getting a mocktail or a non-alcoholic beer (I’m really glad to see bartenders/companies starting to include NA options. Listen, sometimes I just want to feel fancy and sip a fun beverage that doesn’t have alcohol in it). Having something to sip on makes Kayn feel involved even if he’s the only one in a group that doesn’t have an alcoholic beverage.

Now even though he doesn’t drink, don’t think he’s a spoilsport. Even without alcohol he is a very fun person to be around, so when you’re out with him you’ll still have a great night filled with some shenanigans, fun talks, and laughter.

K’Sante

I’m not kidding when I say I want to have a drink with Heartsteel K’Sante so badly and I’m genuinely a little sad I cannot. I want to pick his brain. I’ve said it before but I get great vibes from him. To me, it’s very easy to see why he’s one of the co-leaders of Heartsteel.

Absolutely gets philosophical/goes into deep conversations when he drinks and those people are SO FUN TO BE AROUND. A perfect companion for someone who might be a little more introverted since he’d be focused only on you and he’d maybe take you somewhere a little quieter so you can hear each other.

I feel like it’s very easy to lose track of time when you’re talking with K’Sante. Like you look down at your phone/watch and an hour has passed just like that while the two of you chat and sip on your drinks.

These deep conversations can be about anything too. Maybe about literature that you’ve both read, dissecting their music with a close eye, discussing the meaning of life, or even him listening to you discuss your problems and offering you advice if you want it.

And even if the topics of discussion are deep, K’Sante is still making things light hearted. He never wants to cause you to not enjoy your evening.

In between discussions of deeper topics, he’s cracking some jokes or telling you funny stories about himself, his family, or the other members of Heartsteel. Whatever is being discussed, the overall vibe with K’Sante is very safe and fun. When you have a drink with him, settle in and enjoy a fun night talking about anything and everything.

Sett

Oh my god Sett would be so fun to have a drink with. He absolutely gives off “life of the party” vibes (#2) and I absolutely love that for everyone around him. Hell he gives off those vibes without alcohol.

This is going to be so damn specific: Sett gives me slight frat bro vibes BUT IN THE VERY BEST WAY!! (I SWEAR I mean this as a compliment!)

When I was in university/undergrad, I was in a sorority. (Hehe surprise! I’m definitely not the stereotypical sorority girl.) Because of this I am familiar with fraternities and frat bros. While generally I don’t have a high opinion of them, there was one frat on campus that was actually awesome. Their guys were safe/fun to be around, respectful, and kind (a lot of them were athletes so they knew they better behave if they wanted to stay on their teams).

THAT is the kind of frat bro vibe I get from Heartsteel Sett. Ma raised him fucking right. He has manners and is incredibly respectful to those around him always. (Unless they give him reason not to be but that’s a whole different thing.)

And just like Ez, his flirty side is totally coming out, but again, only with you. I can’t imagine Sett ever being unfaithful in a relationship. Ma raised him far better then that.

And if you’re out with him and getting unwanted attention, he’s definitely sticking up for you, whether or not you’re dating him. Hell even if you’re a stranger, he’s the type to pretend to be your boyfriend/brother/friend to get you out of a situation. Just overall a 100/10 man to be around. You’ll definitely have a blast with him!

Yone (Yes his is long but listen, I have thoughts!)

This man. This man is my dark horse. There are two possible ways I see Yone acting when tipsy. 1. Completely fucking normal and alcohol doesn’t affect him like at all. 2. Turns him into a clingy koala man who is a lightweight.

Clingy koala man is far more entertaining so THAT’S WHAT WE’RE GOING WITH. I feel like it doesn’t take much for him to feel it. Part of that is, Yone wouldn’t drink that much to begin with. Maybe a glass of wine on a dinner date with you, or the occasional drink at a party, but otherwise it’s not his thing.

All this to say, when he does have something, he definitely feels it. And that’s when he’ll be glued to your side. Now obviously if you’re in public, he’s not going to be wrapped around you, but even then, he’ll link arms to walk with you, keep his hand on the small of your back, or even link pinkies with you.

Now if you two are alone? And you’re not going anywhere for the evening? Oh all bets are off. You better do everything you need to do before sitting down with him, because once you do, he’s pulling you into his lap and that is going to be your spot for the foreseeable future. (It’s like the unspoken pet rule: “if a pet is on you, you’re not allowed to move until they do” but in reverse. As long as Yone is cuddling you, you’re not allowed to move. [Like of course you’re allowed to move, especially if you need to go to the bathroom or get more comfortable. He’s not an asshole. But he just really loves holding you.])

You’re already the only person besides Heartsteel’s hair stylist Yone lets touch his hair, but when he’s tipsy? He practically leans his head into your touch until you play with his hair, sighing happily as you do. He especially loves when you braid it. (God damn I want to braid his hair so badly.)

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I was discussing with my friends which fictional characters we’d like to have a drink with and that’s where this idea really stemmed from. Random, but fun to think about! 💙

(Also this is just a small reminder that my requests are currently open. If you have specific ideas, send them through my asks! Just check the rules post [linked on my masterlist] first!)

[thatsatricky1]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙

Pairing: Criminal Choi San x Nurse (afab) Reader.

Genre: Thriller, Crime, Romace

Warnings: Hospitals, slight gore, wounds, gun shot wound mentioned, blood mentioned, gun mentioned, criminal activities, bank heist.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction and does not accurately describe San, again this is fiction for entertainment purposes. Also I wrote this at an ungodly hour at night so please excuse if there are any grammar or misspellings (English is not my first language) I will go back to re-edit any mistakes later after I get some sleep.

Word count: 3,4k+

“I still remember you full of youth, wide eyed, holding a water bottle in one hand and a fall risk document in the other.”

“Ah yes when I was a resident still full of hope.” Y/n commented back not looking up from the computer where she was typing up a quick patient report. An already empty coffee cup in the trash can next to the desk and a freshly opened 500ml energy drink laid next to the computer keyboard.

“Now you’re just like the rest of us.” Chan spoke again with a small lopsided smile leaning against the desk, arms crossed figure still clothed in his lab coat.

“Chan, I love you but your shift ended an hour ago, leave before you get stuck here.” Y/n shut down Chan’s small talk.

“Couldn't I say the same for you?”

“No, understaffed as per usual meaning I’m doing a double shift.” Y/n answered back to Chan’s retort causing him to stand up straight.

“You are taking another double shift? You know you can say no sometimes.” Chan frowned watching her still typing up the last few sentences of her report on a new income patient.

“I’d love to but Yeji and Rose are both on holiday, Momo is on leave since she’s in her third trimester, Mark is sick, so is Yoona, Hani, Suzi and Doyoung. Oh and Irene got moved to ward F4.” Y/n listed off with her finger spinning in her chair to face Chan now.

“Felix?” Chan asked out stubbornly.

“He did the last double shift, late and night shift.” Y/n shot back.

Chan sighs moving to rub his eyes letting out a groan not liking how his ward was always understaffed but most ward were, that’s how it was. He was always asking the hospital to hire more nurses, it looked like even him, the head doctor couldn’t change their stingy ways.

Hospital staff worked as a team. Doctors, nurses, emt’s, cleaners, chefs, receptionists, therapists, interns, residents, technicians, all staff were a team together. If just one was missing, the hospital wouldn’t work.

“I’m going to try again at the next board meeting to get them to reconsider adding extra staff.” Chan mentions while Y/n gets out of her seat standing in front of him.

“Of course you will, you do every time Dr. Bang, but how about for now you go to bed, can’t have a sleep deprived doctor working on my patients.” Y/n teased a cheeky smile gracing her lips but eyes were evidently tired as she patted his chest.

“Alright, alright nurse Y/n. I’m on call though, so if anything happens it’s my number you need to call during Night Shift Alright?” Chan conceded one arm raised in mock surrender while the other patted her hand that laid on his chest.

“Good, sleep well Chan.” Y/n replied letting her hand slip away from being sandwiched between Chan’s chest and hand. No doubt already making up her mind to not bother on calling Chan as she was a pro in emergencies.

Y/n moving away over to the medication area opening the cabinets while flipping open the iPad going onto her patients medical plans to start preparing their medication before they’d be going to sleep.

Chan watched silently as Y/n moved with muscle memory reaching for different medications she knew like the back of her hand placing them in one use containers.

“Sleep well too Y/n after your shift ends.” Chan quietly spoke out in the room but loud enough to hear as she hummed out in response.

With one more reluctant look at leaving her alone for the Night Shift, Chan grabbed his things leaving the nursing room. Y/n hearing his footsteps faintly leave down the hallway.

Y/n taking in a deep breath, blinking away the heavy feeling in her eyelids. Hands moving nimbly as usually putting another 400mg pain tablet into a container.

It had hit 3 a.m. Y/n having just finished another round through her patients rooms making her way back towards the nursing room pocketing her low light torch and quickly checking the time on her pocket watch, a puff of air releasing from her mouth realising she still had four more hours till change over.

Unlocking the nursing room and pushing it open with her hip letting the door stay all the way open as she moved to grab her nearly finished energy drink. Moving it up to her lips only to pause hearing the night shift phone start ringing.

Only letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment of annoyance that coursed through her tired body knowing fully well she shouldn’t have hoped for a peaceful night. Yet even when placing the drink down in favour to grab the phone still holding on to a string of hope it was just Irene who was on night shift on F4 wanting to call to pass time and gossip about her new work colleagues.

With a click of a button she pressed the phone to her ear calling out her wards name, F2 and her name.

“Hey Y/n it’s Eunwoo, Irene is gonna look after F2 and F4 for a while. I need you down here for some extra help. Sorry sweetheart.” Eunwoo’s voice muffled out of the old desperately in need of updating, hospital night shift phone.

Just like that Y/n’s peace was broken, but she didn’t dwell on it and instead nodded to herself gripping the phone tighter as she stuffed her pocket with gloves, a Sutures scissors and hand bottle of disinfectant.

“Alright Eunwoo I’m on my way down to the Emergency ward, keep tight I’ll be three minutes max.” Y/n replied not waiting for his response as she ended the call already moving out of the nursing office, locking it behind her before rushing as quietly as she could down the hallway, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Making it in under two minutes gloves on and ready. Swiftly making her way down the hallway, Eunwoo joined her halfway.

“What happened, Eunwoo?” Y/n asked straight to the point, turning her head to cast her gaze on her friend.

“Good morning to you too sweetheart, three guys came in severely wounded, one shot, the other two pretty scratched up. They won’t talk about it. My guess is some gang robbery on the trio went wrong and they're traumatised or still in shock from it.” Eunwoo informed, somehow slipping a joke in as well.

“And I’m here, why then?”

“Because my dear Y/n I have my hands full with critically injured patients and there is one guy left from the three that needs to be patched up.” Eunwoo finally explained.

“Eunwoo-” Y/n started to go on her rant but was cut off by Eunwoo who stopped them grabbing her blue medical gloved hands in his own matching pair.

“Y/n I wouldn’t ask you to come down without a reason, I’m on my second double shift in a row, I have four burn victims I constantly have to attend to until space frees up in the critical ward. We used to work in the emergency ward together so I knew you’d get it.” Eunwoo spoke this time seriously, squeezing Y/n’s hands gently.

Y/n gazed into Eunwoo’s eyes for a few seconds before softening her gaze, nodding understanding him. Eunwoo’s eyes brightened knowing he could count on her pulling her into a tight hug.

“He’s in room 4, thank you Y/n you are a lifesaver. I owe you one.” Eunwoo thanked her, taking his leave to rush back to room 6.

“Yeah, I know.” She muttered to herself, hands on her hips before looking over to room 4.

“I’m fine, like I said before you can attend to my friends first.” A smooth yet somehow gruff voice called out in the dim room.

“Well that’s an interesting introduction. And for your peace of mind, your friends have already been attended to.” Y/n spoke from the doorway leaning against it.

“You’re not that guy.” The male blurted out observing Y/n.

“Very observant. No I’m not, but you’re my patient now, so let’s have a look at what I’m working with.” Y/n clearly amused as she stepped properly into the room now, picking up the new patients chart.

Having to keep a poker face noticing Eunwoo’s chicken scratch handwriting with barely any information. Male, looks to be mid twenties, might have a cut on his right forearm and some scratches to the face. Not a lot to work off of.

Placing the chart down Y/n looked over at the guy taking in his appearance. He was quite attractive, that is something she couldn’t deny. Recently freshly bleached hair, black combat boots, plain black pants, an olive green hoodie paired with a questionable leather combat vest, that she hoped was just an odd choice of street fashion wear. One of his hands gloved with a chain attached to it, the other hand was covered in wrist bands.

“Are they really fine?” The guy asked, watching as Y/n grabbed supplies bring them over to the bed he was sitting on, legs placed on the floor in habit in case he needed to make a break for it.

“Eunwoo has magic hands, you’re friends are most definitely more than fine.” She reassured him.

“But you on the other hand, need to get patched up now.” Y/n pointed out hand gesturing towards his bloodied sleeve.

“It’s not mine.” San explained, the blood having soaked into his sleeve of his hoodie earlier.

Y/n held back from raising her eyebrow shaking her head pointing out “I’m going to assume you got blood on your sleeve from your friends gun shot wound.”

“Yeah something like that.” He nods.

“Alright so, I still need to patch up your face. Make sure those wounds don’t leave any nasty scars.” She spoke while preparing everything all while he watched curiosity clear in his eyes.

San could clearly tell the young nurse was tired, then again it was always said that nurses are overworked so he shouldn’t be surprised, it was also 3 something a.m.

“I’m Y/n F/n, but you can call me Y/n.” Y/n introduced herself before gesturing at her equipment asking permission silently to start. San giving a single not for the go ahead.

Y/n moved to start cleaning up the scratch that was clean along the bridge of his nose, it would leave a faint scar from the depth but with her skillful hands it wouldn’t be as noticeable. Being this up close to him made her realise he had an eyebrow piercing, something Y/n was a sucker for. But she was also professional.

“San.”

“No last name?” She hummed out eyebrows scrunching the slightest bit in focus, a detail San couldn’t help but burn into his memory gaze never leaving her face.

“Just San.” He replied back waiting to be further interrogated but was pleasantly surprised by Y/n not asking further questions on him. Yet for some reason also hoped she’d dig further.

“So do you always come waltzing through the emergency entrance with sounds wearing a leather vest or is this something you’re just scratching off your bucket list?” Y/n tried making small talk, wanting his attention off her face, noticing his intense stare.

“We got robbed, not something I put on my bucket list, don’t have one to begin with.” San replied with a small smirk placed against his lips at her words. The lies slipped off his tongue easily as it was a thing he did often.

“Mm, Eunwoo did say something about a robbery. At least you have a new conversation started to use on people.” Y/n offered up a barely good thing to come out of the situation that happened to him and his friends.

“You look tired.” San blurted out wanting to change the topic off of his friends and situation since he didn’t want to slip up on it and talk further on it as when Mingi, Wooyoung and he had gone to the hospital the furthest they’d made up on their alibi was getting robbed and none of the three would say more in case they gave different stories.

“Once again a great observation San, I’m on a double shift. I had a late shift. Now I’m on night shift due to our wonderfully understaffed hospital like every other hospital.” Y/n replied to him wondering if she looked like a mess for him to be pointing out she looked tired.

“Fuck. Sounds like it happens a lot.” San muttered out holding back a wince as she cleaned over a cut on his cheekbone, being used to the pain but that didn’t mean he was immune to it.

“It does.” Y/n hummed out before saying with an amused grin “Do I look that bad?”

“No, just because you look tired doesn’t mean you look bad. You look good.” San responded just as fast, eyes never falling from her face unlike how her hand faltered from where it was attending to his cheekbone.

“… Well you should see me with at least eight hours of sleep and in clothes that aren’t my scrubs.” Y/n teased out having to take a second, surprised by the sudden comment he made.

“Don’t tempt me, you know I’d want to see that.” San spoke out confidently, his pierced eyebrow raising. Only to wince at Y/n ‘accidentally’ pressing harder on his wound.

“Careful San if I didn’t think any better I’d say you’re testing your luck on a night shift nurse right after being robbed.” She shook her head to hold back her amusement.

“And what if I am?” He boldly asked hand slyly moving to grab her wrist gently stopping her from continuing with patching up his face. Y/n noticing just how close their faces were now.

“I’d say it would be a lost cause San, seeing as I’m your nurse and you’re my patient. Your not the first flirt I’ve come across in the work field and certainly not the last.” She put on a confident face tilting her head.

San’s eyes flickering the briefest second down at her lips before staring deep into her eyes, the smirk on his lips turning into a grin.

“Hasn’t stopped other people in the past. I like challenges Y/n.”

“This is a challenge you can only fail at San, I don’t typically go for guys without last names.”

“Choi.” San bluntly replied leaning another inch towards her face.

“I don’t go for bleach blondes.” Y/n responded right after not moving her face back.

“Hair dye exists darling.” San moved closer as if challenging her back, her head not retreating backwards.

“I like my men honest, wanna give me a rundown on how the robbery happened?” Y/n asked out while still doing her job causing San to let out a puff of air amused.

“If I get a kiss I might just tell you every little detail.” San was instantly sorting a made up robbery in his head.

“How about the story first?”

“No can do darling, the kiss comes first.” San denied his lips now so close she could nearly feel them against her own.

“Then I guess we are at a stalemate.” Y/n retorted yet didn’t move back.

San took this as a sign, eyes slowly closing as he moved forward only to be met with air.

Blinking his eyes a few times before fully opening them to see Y/n staring back amused, face a few inches away from his again.

“I got the last name, but your hair is still blonde and I didn’t get that story.” She shrugged, tugging her wrist out of his grasp easily seeing as he’d been holding it lightly in his grasp beforehand.

“Tease.” San groaned out moving backwards so his upper half of his body fell onto the bed.

“Whatever you say Choi San. Well as much as I enjoyed our interesting conversation, I need to go back to my ward to do another round on my patients seeing as you're all finished.” Y/n explained as she got up patting away the imaginary dusk on her scrubs after disposing of her one use gloves.

San was pleased to see no ring in sight on her now revealed hands. Sitting up with his hands holding all his wait he watched her put away the equipment she’d used.

“I thought I was also your patient, shouldn’t I get some of your time as well?” San didn’t let up not wanting her to leave so soon knowing fully well this could be their only interaction to his unfortunate displeasure at the thought.

“Well I can’t be using all my attention on one patient, that’s bias.” Y/n shrugged, moving to lean against the doorway of the room once again like she’d done when she’d first entered the room.

“You’ll probably be able to be discharged soon, be careful where you’re walking around at night with your friends. You’ve got a handsome face, one I don’t want to see get scratched up again and also in my hospital again, stay safe Choi San. Look after yourself.”

San smiled at her kind yet teasing words.

“I’ll try not to. But that doesn’t mean we won’t bump into each other again. The world is a small place you never know when we’ll see each other again.” San replied back.

“Sure thing.” Y/n nodded not thinking they’d cross paths again, but she wouldn’t mind it if it was in any other setting but the hospital she worked in.

Turning to leave Y/n held back an amused laugh hearing San call out to her as she finally took her leave.

“I’ll be waiting for that kiss Darling!”

“Darling?” It was a voice she’d thought she’d never hear again. Much less run into the man.

All she could do was stare in shock and slight anger at the sight in front of her.

San stood there gun in hand, face scratched up again because of the fight that had been taking place at 9pm on a random street in Seoul.

Y/n having been a random witness to the cruel street criminal actions taking place in the bank where’d she’d come by on her only day off she’d managed to get wanting to pay a bit of her student loans.

“You never got robbed.” Was all she could manage to whisper out, San having to strain his ears to hear it, but it was evident he’d heard her by the frown that had settled on his face.

San had been in a robbery gone wrong that night. Though he wasn’t the one who’d gotten robbed. He’d been the one trying to rob others. His grip on his gun faltered quickly, pocketing it in his waistband, glancing at the dead cameras shuffling closer to off duty nurse. Only for her to shuffle back from where she’d been sitting on the ground due to having been ordered by another man ten minutes ago to do so at the beginning of the bank heist currently taking place.

“Darling don’t, don’t you move away from me.” San scrambled with his words trying to back track this whole situation cursing out himself for life putting the two of you here at the same time and not some cliche bump into each other at a coffee shop cliche.

“You shouldn’t have told me your last name San.” Y/n spoke with determination, eyes barely managing to glare at her once patient who’d lied and flirted with her so easily.

“Well I guess that means we have a dilemma on our hands.” San clenched his jaw tight at her words.

“You won’t get away with this San, taking people's hard earned money like this.”

“That’s not what this is Y/n.” San denied desperately wanting her to understand the situation.

“That’s what it looks like to my Choi San.” She retorted, eyes flicking to his hands as he fiddled with something taking another step in her direction, eyes staring once again at that face he’d been thinking about this whole time since they’d first met months ago.

“Oh Darling. You have no idea.”

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[zabala0z]

Welcome back to the first episode of “Listening to TMA S5, blind” I’m your beloved host and guys. Guys guys. I actually am freaking out.

MAG 161: Dwelling

I’m actually screaming. Hearing the old gang actually made me want to cry. SASHA. SASHA I MISSED YOU :(( also Elias: “I’d like to keep an eye out” you think you’re so fucking funny. I loved the very off key singing of Happy Birthday. Accurate. I wonder if Elias/Jonah sent the tapes for a reason. It’s definitely not to gloat. Is this apart of a wider web of manipulation? The Web style? Also, the fact Sasha could’ve been head archivist. Jesus

Hearing the description of the entities, that they don’t care enough to keep humanity fed and watered unnerved me a lot actually. I don’t know.

MAG 162: A Cozy Cabin

GERRY!!! Nice to hear him as a human, without all the ghost-like qualities. Although hearing Jon rewind the tape over and over and over and over again just made me feel bad.

And then Sasha and Tim.

“we had the ill-advised hookup, the awkward aftermath, and the gradually rebuilt friendship, but – that’s all season two stuff. We’ve got like five more seasons before we get the heartwarming epilogue that makes it canon.”

“No. You took it too far! I’m unforgettable!”

So what if I just ended it all?

Also Jon’s monologue. For a bit, I thought he was “knowing” one of Martins poems that he made during this since Martin was the one who did not like staying at the cabin but no, I was wrong. But time to see the outside world

MAG 163: In The Trenches

I wanna go back to the cabin.

I love TMA so much because of how the format switches up every season. Like season 1 was pretty simple enough with season 2 having Jon add in those supplementals and having a new setting (the tunnels). Season 3 cranks it up with having live statements from recurring characters, statements read by others, and dropping some lore. season 4, while similar to season 1 in terms of format, has Martin reading statements, more god damn lore and some new settings. And now season 5 has uh all this. It’s so amazing and I love it and I’m terrified.

Hearing Jon describe everything going on actuslly made me horrified. Like I got spooked out by the statements but this made me feel so much dread like I’m not even kidding. I also wanna know more about that weird ass doctor and the man with the red flower. Avatars of The Slaughter I presume.

Also that phone. ???? What???

MAG 164: The Sick Village

Gross. While the previous episode made me experience horror, this made me feel disgust. Disgust that just burrowed into my bones (get it. Cause..the episode-). I had such a deep instinct of repulsion. Like actually. I also read the triggers just cause you can never be too careful and I remember thinking, “how can xenophobia be involved with The Corruption?”…apparently xenophobia was very prevalent

Now I know where the whole “Martin’s middle name” thing comes from. I’m glad Basira is alive. And heart broken at the tragedy there is. She’s always chasing Daisy and Daisy is always chasing another thing SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

I think Georgie and Melanie are in the tunnels. It’s been established before that Elias can’t see in the tunnels which probably means Jon can’t see them. I’m glad they are safe. They need it.

Helen! Nice to see her again, I actually cackled when she said “check up on the happy couple”. Nice to see a confirmation about the relationship. This is like the worst time to be dating someone though 💀 Helen’s so happy. I’m sure she has a ton of people in her hallways. I don’t know if she’s lying about the “friend thing, but it’d be funny if she wasn’t

Okay. That’s everything. Sorry for the long wait, I had to take a break after season 4’s finale and then ANOTHER one after listening to the first 3 eps. This is like, actually heavy. Kinda draining. But god, I’m actually going insane.

I want to know how this is going to be fixed. Like. There’s gotta be some happy ending. ??? Right??? Please tell me there is one.

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I'm sick and on a major Hobbit/LotR kick. I found your blog and I'm in love with your writing! If possible, could I request something like how Thorin's company (specifically Kili, but can add others) would react upon discovering reader has Trichotillomania (anxiety-induced hair plucking disorder)? I know it sounds kinda stupid, but it just popped into my head.

-🦅

Not stupid at all! Pulling at/out my hair if I’m anxious or have no fidgets is kind of something I do and tend to have characterized as a “bad habit” so I so get this! But our hair is precious as our lovely dwarves will remind us 😌 hopefully this is accurate, I included feelings I have when I’ve had anxiety/panic attacks, too, & just got carried away with some of them! If this is not a good representation, my apologies in advance love 🙏🏻

Trichotillomania- Thorin’s Company x Reader

Balin

“If ever you wish to talk, I hope you know this old dwarf’s ears still work.” Eyes widening, then narrowing as they looked up at Balin standing there the sunshine, you found yourself nodding and wringing at the ends of your sleeves. “Thank you,” you replied, “but why all of a sudden?” “I can tell you’ve been under some stress, and I can’t pretend I don’t understand. But ‘tis always better to talk about it than take it out on ourselves. Or each other, but I can’t foresee that being a problem with you,” the older dwarf winked. “No,” you chuckled, shaking your head, “I have no plans to start a fight. It may sound silly to you, what I have to say.” “Please,” Balin waved a hand, smiling lightly. You loved the way he always said ‘laddie’ or ‘lassie’. “I grew up with Dwalin and then the princes running around underfoot for how many years? Daresay I’m an expert at the inane by now.” “In that case, I’ll think of it as some free entertainment for you,” you joked back.

Dwalin

“Have you ever considered shaving it all off?” Frowning, you drop your hands and swivel to face the bald dwarf. You hadn’t exactly expected anyone to catch you having a panic attack in the woods, let alone cut through it with sarcasm. Body freezing, you wracked your brain for a response. Dwalin, it seemed, perceived that, changed his tone. “‘m not makin’ fun of you. Might feel good if y’ don’t mind looking like me. Ever you want to, just say the word and I can help.” Rough as his words were, you could sense the care behind them. Would it feel better to be rid of your compulsions completely, to have a fresh start? Whether you truly considered it or not, well aware were you how meaningful a suggestion it was by the warrior. “You say that as though looking like you is an insult,” you simply replied and gave him a nudge.

Thorin

Joint discovery. That is the word you would use to describe the night. Thorin had jolted awake suddenly, taking deep, panting breaths you could see heaving beneath his bedroll as you sat on watch duty, shock, concern, and anxiety increasing your own reactions. Coming to, the king-to-be took in the sight of you, sighed at the familiarity, thought better of it as his brows knitted. “Did you just have a nightmare?” You asked, and all but simultaneously Thorin said he saw the way your hands wrung your head. “Quite a bad habit,” you replied sheepishly, “but you really should go back to sleep.” “I think I would prefer to stay awake for a time, if that is alright,” Thorin responded, sitting up and brushing some long black hair off his shoulder. “Of course,” you told him, surprised but smiling at the way he shuffled to sit at your side. Tentatively you reached out a hand. “May I?” The king gave a silent nod, prompting you to gently rub his back, content at the new, more soothing occupation of your hand.

Oin

It all started when Oin was given bedroll duty, taking up all the members’ nighttime dwellings to carry once more. Upon yours, he could not help noticing, was a mass of hair, an unusual amount even for a race so conscious of its shedding. Approaching you, he asked if you’d not been feeling well, perhaps wanted to try an oil to care for your hair with or an herbal supplement to bring your strength back. Eyes shining at his generosity, you break down and admit your nervous habit, the way your hands go to your hair especially in the dark of night when all seems lost. From then on he appoints himself your personal hair carer, even teaches you new ways to style it that might keep it more safely out of the way. His hands work so gently over your hair, undoing the irritation and pain it had endured for so long and bringing a soft smile of contentment to your lips.

Gloin

Heavy breaths mingle with your own, prompting you to snap briefly enough from your reverie to register the dwarf running toward you with great stomping steps. Jumping a bit, you find yourself goggling at Gloin, who rests his hands on his knees and heaves a few more times before addressing you. “Now what’s brought this on? Can’t have you hurting yourself.” ‘Hurting yourself’ was never a consideration you’d made, but you supposed your hair was less precious to you than it was to the rest of your companyman. “You- you weren’t supposed to see that,” you told Gloin, folding your hands in your lap. At that, though, the auburn-haired dwarf waved a hand. “Nothing to be ashamed of. If it’s botherin’ you up there, why don’t you try one of these?” Any of the dwarves reaching into their pockets worried you a bit, but your mind races for his brief rummage until he produces a small article that looks somewhere between a cap and a bonnet. “Keep it safe up there. And if ya need something to do, why, come play a few rounds with my brother and I! That’ll keep your hands moving so fast you’ll forget you have ‘em!” “Hands or worries?” You laugh shakily. Luckily, Gloin gives a huge laugh at your awkward joke, patting you on the back. “Both if we’re lucky!”

Bifur

Far gentler about it than one might expect from him. He knows what it is like to have trauma, though, to have PTSD even if he doesn’t have that word for it. Thus he can read the signs of anxiety from a league off and tends to shuffle to your side during those moments. He knows his way of communication draws focus, attention, so as he sees you tugging at your hair he begins to sign questions. Simple questions, but ones you must then answer. “What is your name?” You tell him. “What is your name?” He signs again. Even through the spikes of overwhelming weight, the way the world closes in on you, you find yourself trying to remember how to sign your name if you know it, indicate you can’t if you don’t. Nodding, Bifur keeps this method going, cutting slowly but surely into the spiral and even telling you at the end of it that you are precious…all of you.

Bofur

“Hey, hey, whoa, what’s all this, huh?” Starting, you see Bofur appraching you, clearly having caught you ripping at your hair. Before you can respond his gloved hands fall over yours, removing them gently. “Feeling a mite stressed?” World still pressing in on you, you just nod, and Bofur’s hazel eyes soften. “Well, I don’t much are for seeing ya hurt yerself. Tell ye what: why don’t we try this instead?” Sitting up straighter, you peer up at the dwarf to see him unwinding his scarf and draping it over your shoulders. “Next time you don’t feel good, try playin’ with this instead. I like to mess with the little fringe on the end myself.” Fingers thoughtfully caressing the dangling edges, you smile as the scent of him rushes to you, grounding you that much more. “Are you sure?” “Positive,” he nods, patting your shoulder, “it’s all yours. Then again, I daresay it’s long enough for the both of us.” He winks and you grin all the way this time.

Bombur

“You get served first tonight,” Bombur tells you one evening, nodding to the carven bowl in your hand. “Me,” you ask, “why?” “Can tell you’ve been having a bad day is all,” the fiery-haired dwarf replied as he plucked the vessel from your hand, “and if you aren’t feelin’ well, well, extra to you!” Did he think you were sick? “This is just something that happens to me, though,” you told him, “it is not new." "Well," Bombur filled your bowl up high as he could, "more nourishment for that pretty hair of yours, and tell you what- next time you feel like pullin' it out, how's about asking for a hug instead?" Pausing, you accepted the warm wood he handed you. "You feel no shame at that?" "No," he replied, voice quietened, "I will only feel lucky." "As will I," you told him with a smile, knowing how Bombur gave the company's greatest and warmest hugs.

Dori

Dori, you knew, had the habit of hovering over his brothers, whether it was keeping them from their squabbles or ensuring they would not be catching cold, but you were hardly used to receiving such attention the day he sat at your side, insisting you share a cup of tea with him. Gently setting the steaming cup in your hands, the eldest Ri brother started asking you questions about how you were feeling, if the company treated you well. Sharing some stories and laughs about the others first, you finally asked him what this tea was all about. Well, in the most literal sense, Dori told you it was a calming blend with a bit of something Oin said helped hair grow and even a small dash of sugar he was able to scrounge up! Beyond that, well… “You don’t take care of yourself,” he replies, your name heavy but sweet upon his lips, “so I thought I could do it for you. I’m used to that, you know. Your hair is beautiful as your smile, so I suppose I wanted to protect both. Sorry if that’s silly.” Letting your head fall on his shoulder, you cupped your warm tea a bit tighter, tears welling in your eyes. “Not at all, Dori. Not at all.”

Nori

“Have you been itchin’?” Nori asks you one night, sending your gaze rapidly swiveling his way. “I beg your pardon?” “Couldn’t help but notice the way your hair is botherin' you," he replies with a shrug as he passes your bowl. Accepting your nightly meal, you sigh. "No, it isn't that, I... I get anxious. Don't know why I do it, but I can't help it." "No?" Nori pauses before his signature smirk returns. "But I can!" "Huh?" Dropping your spoon back into the stew incredulously, you turn your attention his way once more. "What do you mean?" "Simple. Just tell me when you get worried. If you like the feeling of something touchin' you, well I think I have that covered." Your eyebrows shoot up at that, raising a bark of laughter from the dwarf. "Whatcha getting in that pretty head of yours? Thought I might hold your hands, put an arm around ya."

Ori

“I made you this.” Ori holds out a knitted bear to you, smiling sheepishly through your zoning stare at the fire. Giving him your full attention, you break into a smile, clutching your gift close as you ask him what it is for. “Well,” the young dwarf rubs at the back of his neck, “I wasn’t trying to see, but, well, I did, so…” “What are you talking about?” Your brows furrow. “I noticed the way you pull out your hair when you get stressed and I thought it might hurt,” Ori replies, voice quiet, “so I made you something you can squeeze instead. It’s alright. He can’t feel the pain. Not like you can.” Tears well up in your eyes; misunderstanding, Ori takes a step back only for you to catch his hand, holding it tight and looking him in the eyes. “Thank you for seeing me. Truly.”

Fili

“You call that a bad habit? Why, you should see what half of this company’s gotten up to in their lifetimes! The sheer number of things they’ve snuck on this very trip,” Fili said with a smirk. A wave of nerves crashed over you, falling into a defensive cross of your arms. “Well, I’m sorry I’m too much of an anxious wreck to be exciting,” you bit out, turning away from him only to feel a hand on your shoulder. “Wait,” Fili breathed your name, “that came out wrong. All I meant is these rapscallions are the ones who have anything to be ashamed of. I’m sorry you have to deal with all that. Please let me make it up to you.” His blue eyes bore into yours, softening earnestly enough to earn him a nod from you. “Alright,” you agreed, “I understand. You were just trying to keep things light, we’ve all done it. What did you have in mind, then?” “Next time you feel nervous, think of me as your personal doll!” “I beg your pardon?” “How many years have I had this hairstyle? More than I can count! Let’s let some good come from those idle hands,” the blonde urged you with a smile, “and play around with each other’s hair instead. What say you?” Blast it- as if if you could ever resist that grin!

Kili

Frantic motions of your hands are interrupted by a softer touch, hands gently running over your scalp. “Care to talk or would you rather just sit?” Kili’s voice, a sound that rarely fails to bring a smile to your face, echoes behind you as he lowers your now-joined forms into a seated position upon an abandoned bedroll. The arm not reaching to your head, seemingly unashamed of the damage you’ve done that sometimes fuels your spirals, is wrapped firmly around your shoulders from the front to hold you against his chest. “I don’t mind either way as long as I’ve got you here.” “Then let us enjoy the silence,” you request quietly, internally fighting the part of you that struggles to accept the blessings you are given. “For as long as this lot’ll let us,” Kili snorts, but with that he presses a kiss to your forehead and continues holding you, fingers shifting to grab one of your hands as he soothes the itching patch of hair you’d been reaching for.

Bilbo

“Oh. Oh, dear, what’s the matter there?” He isn’t trying to make things worse and in fact he’ll get quite apologetic, but the hobbit has never seen such behavior so it raises legitimate, innocently blunt question. The shame, though, does not ease your spike of anxiety, leaving your hands shake with the pressure of both your trigger, your impulse, and the fight of it for fear of Bilbo’s judgment. Suddenly his hand is upon your shoulder. “It’s…a lot, isn’t it? I understand. Typically my go-to is to faint, but I can see why this lot would have you wanting to pull your hair out!” Weakly he swings his arm, clearly trying to joke you out of your state. Your brows furrow, such an unexpected reaction jarring some breaths back into your lungs. You are surprised again when Bilbo takes your hands. “You’re shaking…here, lie back a little, let’s talk, all right?” He listens, apologizes frantically for his ignorant comments, holds your hands still, running a thumb over the back of them.

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[the-raven-lady]

Astartes blood making a person infertile is (from what I can recall) kind of old lore that might not be fully accurate to the current canon. And I think that an ink-infused-with-blood tattoo would function differently than a full on blood transfusion, since the blood is supposed to stay in one specific place acting as a kind of human microchip rather than as a means of actually replacing blood.

Also space marines are notoriously poisonous (like have you seen those guys??) their bodies contain all kinds of fucked up chemicals that get carried around their body via the bloodstream. So if a human got a direct blood transfusion from a marine I think they’d just straight up die. But a blood tattoo could be less lethal, of course it would still be injecting poison into your body, but it would be in smaller amounts and also a more gradual process. People can die from that too if they’re in poor health or have conditions that severely weaken the immune system. But for an average person it’s pretty survivable, though it would leave them ill for a week or so while their body gets used to having the blood of someone who can eat solid rocks inside it.

So imagine getting the tattoo and feeling the aftermath of it nearly immediately. You’re sick, you have a fever, and at this point you’re not even aware of your surroundings. Your Night Lord owner moves you to his quarters, letting you rest on his bed while you get better. He keeps an eye on you the entire time, trying his hardest to take care of a fragile mortal like you.

Soon enough he can’t help it, he takes off his gauntlet and (very gently) runs his fingers through your hair. And you (in your unknowing state) lean into his touch. You’ve thanked him before, yes, but always through words. And at times he wondered if you were just putting up an act, if you did all of this just to rise up through the ranks of serfdom. But now he knows how foolish those thoughts were. Right now you’re nothing but a small and frightened animal, you don’t even know where you are, and yet you’re holding on to his hand and looking at him with such trusting eyes.

He wonders if this is how his cousins feel when they rescue a baseline from a battlefield, if this is what it’s like when they describe their eyes lighting up at the sight of the astartes. Awestruck and relieved at their heroes protecting them.

You shift a little bit, your other arm tries to wrap around his shoulder, trying to hold him closer to you. And he obliges, but then tries to suppress a whine when you press the side of your face against his. Mumbling something incoherent into his ear. Showing him such genuine affection.

He wonders if this is how the serfs feel when they talk about falling in love.

Between you and Misty's most recent drop, I'm making a Night Lord OC for this immediately.

I am someone who will often ignore certain aspects of canon that I find to be either stupid or unfun, I am absolutely willing to shuck off the 'infertile' part of Astartes blood.

But! To be able to take canon and twist it, the Astartes that have canonically given blood to humans only shot a vial's worth into them, which is not an incredibly significant amount. I was literally just talking with someone about how the human lymphatic system would easily be able to break down small amounts of blood around the tattoo ink generally, but I also am a huge fan of Astartes blood just being like "no <3" and staying right where its put.

I think I am personally of the volition that an Astartes blood-ink tattoo would be more like getting a powerful stimulant than a powerful poison because I actually liked that part of canon, but I also think that it would be so much more accurate to human biology to say that everyone just has a different reaction to it. Some people react like they've just been given a shot of morphine, some react like it's pure cocaine, others straight up die, and some just get violently ill.

Poor little serf being of the group that gets delirious with fever, needing their Astartes to take care of them?? Please, won't you touch me? Please, I just need you here. My light in the dark.

UGH that fills me with such strong emotions. Jaded old night lord learns how to love (colorized), circa 31st millennium. You wrote that so beautifully and I am inspired.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

what are some of the most appealing whump tropes for you? i'm new to writing kind of subject matter, but i love making my oc's/fave characters suffer. i would love ideas from someone experienced!

my top 10 favorite whump tropes

tw: force feeding, implied/reference self-harm, nonconsensual drug use

forced surrender — for me, the trope suits defiant whumpee better than whumpee who’s already broken and terrified. it gives me whumperflies when whumpee who is feisty, defiant and prideful is forced to surrender. so while they are obedient, there may be occasional hissing and snarling from them. should they get punished for such an audacity? the choice is yours.

enemies to friends / enemies to lovers — classic one. though I personally like it better if, prior to their becoming enemies, they started out as friends. so it’s ‘friends to enemies to friends (or lovers) again’. but besides whump, if fluff isn’t your thing and you 1.) don’t want to make their relationship wholesome the second they go from enemies to friends/lovers 2.) want to make it hot and sexy, then I did talk about spicy ;) enemies to lovers trope and the dynamic between two characters here and here. so you can check them out too

medical whump — maybe this one’s not as popular, but it’s still my personal favorite. anything that involves hospital setting, or maybe it doesn’t necessary have to take place in a hospital but a medical ward anywhere where the main focus is whumpee being injured while also being taken care of by caretaker. the more graphic, the better. (it doesn’t really have to be medically accurate, just… you know, how graphic the scene is described, the more the better. give me all that blood and gore, describe to me how each character feels, etc.)

hallucinations — self explanatory. love love love it when whumpee hallucinates from blood loss, infection or high fever, etc. they can hallucinate about anything you want!

sickfic — in my opinion, ‘medical whump’ associates with injuries, while sickfic is about illness. I personally like it when whumpee has the flu and is bedridden, though they’re the worst patient, whining and trying to convince caretaker that they’re fine when they aren’t. unlike medical whump and hallucinations, which deal with angst and stress, I like to throw in some fluff while writing a sickfic. guess you could say sickfic is the fluff version of medical whump and hallucinations (at least that’s how I personally view these terms).

force feeding / hand feeding — bonus if, instead of caretaker, whumper is the one feeding whumpee; they can force feed whumpee as a way to keep whumpee alive (maybe they secretly, genetically care about whumpee, deep down? *cough cough* enemies to lovers?), and they can hand feed whumpee as a way to dominate, humiliate, dehumanize whumpee.

shock collar — whumper puts defiant whumpee in their place by using a shock collar on them.

restraint — there’re so many ways to restrain a whumpee, and they’re all so good, but one that is so criminally underrated in my opinion will always be straightjacket. put. the. blorbo. in. a. straightjacket.

“who did this to you?” — this. this right here. whumpee tries to hide their injuries from caretaker, but of course, they can’t fool them. so when caretaker demands in a low voice that whumpee rolls up their sleeve, caretaker is hardly able to contain their anger when they see bruises on whumpee’s arm (because while they’d rather whumpee not try to hide this from them, they’re not angry at whumpee but at whoever did this to whumpee) and when caretaker asks, “who did this to you?” you know someone is about to pay for what they did to whumpee.

locked up by mistake — I’m not talking about jail here. I’m talking about a psych ward, an asylum. whumpee is not actually crazy or suicidal, but either there’s been a misunderstanding (no one believes them when they say these cuts on their arm aren’t self-inflicted) or they’ve been set up by an enemy. but of course, the more they try to make people believe them, the more unwell they look. and from there, there’re so many ways, so many scenarios to explore, maybe whumpee is drugged until they’re so groggy they don’t even remember their own name, maybe they’re restrained to the bed or are forced into a straightjacket. or maybe they have to undergo a shock therapy.