#I just was thinking about how much this talking point bothers me. Please get interesting for once in yalls lives

[hulloitsdani]

Book 2 is done! And damn I forgot how good it is.

Okay before someone lights me up for my next statement, Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn are some of the best video games written. Period. Not even on the same playing field as other Fire Emblem games in my opinion. And I think one of the reasons why book 2 of Heroes works as well as it does is because it’s taking notes from Path of Radiance. And guys, it’s so god damn fun. Surtr is such a good villain, Fjorm deserves to commit some murder as a treat, and every second Helbindi is on screen is absolute gold.

Hold on I gotta go off about Helbindi actually. He’s a type of character I wish we got more of in FEH as a whole. He purely has his own story going on and never has a real conversation with our protagonists. And it’s a perfect decision. The world feels so much more lived in as a result and it makes his situation all the more tragic. They could have helped him, but why would that conversation ever happen? It’s amazing. Not mentioning that everything word out of his mouth is pure gold. Favorite line of the entire book is from him— “I know that you were hoping to be slaughtered by the best, so I crawled out of the depths of hell, just for you!” Like man. MAN. Fucking get it Helbindi.

If his chapter 12 part 3 conversation with Laegjarn (where she breaks the news that his sister is dead) was voice acted and/or given more expressive visuals, it might actually get me! Perhaps make me feel a feeling. Because it’s genuinely heartbreaking! We don’t need the on screen build up of his relationship with his sister for it to be so either. Between his actions and the narrative parallels drawn between himself and Laegjarn, we know. Man it’s really good.

You know who else was fun this book? Anna! Like genuinely! Trusting this lady with my life. She’s got a few scenes that become REALLY interesting in retrospect. First and foremost being, woah book 8 foreshadowing? In my book 2? Fascinating! If you can recall, in book 8 we learn that the Order’s initial purpose was a lot more shady. As in, might have been trained to do political assassinations type of shady. Anna specifically worked for, trains for, and might have actively been in charge while this was still the case. And there’s a line in book 2 chapter 5 part 1 where she says verbatim, “There’s a reason why I’m the commander! If I know one thing, it’s how to sneak a squad through enemy territory…” It is then this skill that makes the Order such a menace within a Múspell occupied Nilf. Despite their smaller size and disadvantage, finding and catching up to them is a genuine issue that Laegjarn has to put a lot of thought into effectively countering. She even likens it to a hunt. We can then assume this propensity for stealth is key to the Order’s survival against a majority of their encounters with divine forces. The problem is that I genuinely don’t recall if this ever gets highlighted again past this point. I don’t think it does, but man it would be so fun if it was. More build up to this reveal please it would be so neat. Anna backstory ever so slowly being ringed out of her over literal years would drive me insane in the best possible way.

I also enjoyed Fjorm a lot more than I thought I would? In recent years, she’s treated more like an anime waifu, for lack of a better way of putting it. And I’m personally not the biggest fan of it. But it turns out she is getting a bit of a Lucina treatment— it’s as if after Grima was defeated, Awakening kept going and Lucina, with her driving motivation gone, was given an arc about crushing really hard on Robin. It’s not a good follow up, but Fjorm in her original story and context is pretty fun! Like her a lot actually! I am so down with helping this girl kill Surtr. Sign me up bestie. Let’s go get you some vengeance.

I also love how her vengeance is framed? This very well might be some left over Fates trauma talking, but it bothers me when the anime war crimes game makes a big deal about how killing people is wrong. Of course it is and it theoretically could be an interesting thing to talk about. But, in order to convince an audience that our protagonists are moral paragons that can do no wrong, there’s sometimes an insistence that no one here is killing anybody. In the anime medieval fantasy war game. I vaguely remember feh itself trying to do something similar at some point in the future, but not with Fjorm. People are dying horribly in this book and Fjorm is killing people. Her quest to kill Surtr comes from a deeply wrathful place and is noticeably self destructive, but no one tries to talk her down. How could they? For multiple reasons, they simply cannot. The most that can be done is Sharena insisting that Fjorm rest before she keels over. Reading it now, I cannot shake the feeling that if there is a world where Fjorm cannot kill Surtr yet somehow survived, she becomes a problem. Hell, she probably becomes a similar monster to Líf.

…oh shit is that point? Oh damn I think that’s the point.

Man book 2 is good.

Truly the only thing dragging this down is the racial undertones, which do make me extremely uncomfortable! It’s the major reason why I don’t revisit book 2 more. Surtr and Helbindi’s designs and characters are fucking fantastic, but god damnit guys the stereotype being propagated here is really not good! Hell, while we’re here, Bruno is also part of this. It’s not screaming it on a visual level like the other two, but come on, the only dark skinned character in the cast at the time is also the one has a curse on a his blood that makes him violent? That’s not cute! Don’t do that!

It’s not really the hardest fix either. Sure, the best case scenario would have been getting a second pair of eyes on that before that was an inextricable part of the final product. But, be honest, would anything really be lost if Nifl’s royal family also had some melanin? Or even some of our main cast? It would mellow out those undertones, that’s for sure. Also darker skinned Hríd and Gunnthrá could be so fucking pretty you guys oh my god. Can you see my vision? The second I have some free time I am drawing that.

Anyway, the consensus is that book 2 is really good and should be way higher on my FEH book rankings. Definitely got some flaws, but it is a great ride from beginning to end.

Um. So. I may have gotten stressed and started transcribing FEH’s story mode. Might currently have all of book 1 written down. Perhaps a third of the way into book 2.

This started as a way to have the preface chapters handy since they’re not replayable. But then I looked on the FE wiki and saw that they only have a small fraction of the chapters written down. And that scared me, because means that my hyperfixation has a nonzero chance of becoming lost media if the app were to go down one day. So now I have all of book 1 in my back pocket, including the preface, two intermissions, and the two relevant xenologues. Once I’m further along and have a few more books accounted for, I have no problem making the document public. But until then I encourage others to also write some of its content down. Just in case, you know? Especially those prologues and Tempest Trials.

With that PSA out of the way, omg book 1 hi!!!! It’s been forever!!!!

Apparently, I haven’t reread book 1 in its entirety since I first played Heroes! I’ve gone back to look for specific scenes and replayed the levels on harder difficulties (self inflicted or otherwise), but I haven’t done a thorough second pass before. Which was news to me, because that meant I was consistently blindsided by scenes and characterization that I completely forgot about! Did any of you remember that Zacharias was apparently Alfonse and Sharena’s childhood friend? I didn’t! But there it is, chapter 7 part 5 after battle cutscene, Anna specifies that aspect of their relationship. That’s crazy! How does the timeline even line up on that??? If he spent his childhood in Askr, how did he manage to have a strong relationship with his significantly younger sister? How did he find himself rubbing shoulders with enemy royalty? Could he have inadvertently met Peony? I’m not changing my takes on his character, but I would love to know.

Speaking of character, apparently seven years spent writing a character naturally changes how they sound! Who would have thought. It made seeing the book 1 versions of our Askr trio a little jarring, but in an oddly nostalgic way! This was a phase of the game where the story, its characters, and its world existed with the singular purpose of introducing new players to what Heroes was trying to do. Which was, at the time, being a cute yet unobtrusive gacha app tie in with simplified FE mechanics to give you that gameplay fix on the go. And to its credit, it does do a good job of this! It ain’t a masterpiece, but I was charmed by its emphasis on showing off all these cool characters you could go summon. Ryoma gets to talk for a few lines and you are going to look at his very pretty art! But that meant that the world and characters of Zenith take a bit of a backseat. They’re not here to be too complicated. The Order of Heroes are the friendly faces that go on adventures and meet these heroes that you can summon for only $19.99. But we all know where the game and its story is going to go from here. That emphasis is going to wane as FEH grows into its own identity (and also earn IntSys over $1 billion worldwide).

But that’s a later development. Before that fundamental shift is where book 1 sits. It’s in this fascinating position where these characters have yet to solidify into their recognizable forms. And if you don’t believe me, chapter 9 part 4 has a scene where Sharena and Alfonse’s roles have reversed. For once, Sharena is posing the cautionary “what if the information we are getting from this total stranger is a trap?”, to which Alfonse responds “nah I’m getting a vibe that it’s fine and that we should believe him whole heartedly.” Like??? Huh???? It’s Bruno, but still, that’s hilarious! Alfonse’s pragmatism bordering on paranoia hasn’t established itself as a massive driver of his character yet. Nor has Sharena’s role as trusting emotional core and moral compass of the group. It was very easy to borderline Mandela Effect it into being there, but it isn’t. Not quite. There are hints, sure, but once again these characters were initially made to be simple at the time. The depth doesn’t quite exist yet.

It wasn’t until I was writing this very paragraph that it finally dawned on me why the Askr trio voice lines, especially Alfonse’s lines, are such a big deal. That's where Alfonse’s character arc with trusting Kiran resides. There's the pragmatism we know and love! It’s not super present in the text of book 1, but the depth of these characters can be found in the voice lines you unlock from building them and earning the crown jewel level 40 conversation. That’s where Alfonse’s arc with his self isolating behaviors crumbles at that sight of one silly tactician. That’s where Sharena finally wins a fight against her own loneliness by forming genuine friendship with this stranger form a strange land, who is appreciative of her loud eccentricities. That’s where Anna apologizes about her initial underestimation of Kiran, thanks them for being more reliable than she could have ever hoped for, and swears that whatever hell may come their way, they’re in this together. The books themselves don’t seem to reflect this characterization until book 2, where they overall act more in accordance with the rest of the narrative. It’s as if they're taking from the voiced lines’ example and extrapolating more on the story they imply.

The one standing in slight contrast to all this is Bruno, as he's the most interesting character in book 1. It's blaringly obvious he's Zacharias, but it's genuinely amusing how deep he is in his own gaslighting. He can't manipulate, mansplain, manwhore his way out of this one folks, but he's certainly going to try! His lies aren't even that good, but it honestly contributes to how at wits end he is. Like, sure honey, I totally believe you that you just killed Zacharias. I bet he has an eight-pack too. Just take a nap for two minutes. But then everyone believes him because our protagonists have yet meld their group braincell. Overall, an amusing time.

I don't have a particular point I'm trying to make with this one. Just having a fun and pointing out the things I've noticed. Might give a little update for every book I complete. However many that will be.

[fae-morrigan]

Y'know, I see a lot of people argue that like, Jay is ugly. Why does Jon like him? And I've made it clear I disagree, because, like, cmon:

That is OBJECTIVELY a handsome man, and I'm a lesbian, lmao.

But like. If he was. ... So?

I actually think it's pretty cool that DC was like, yeah, Superman fell in love with a guy who cuts his own hair with dull scissors and dresses like oscar the grouch. He's a little weird to look at, maybe he's not the most conventionally attractive dude, but SUPERMAN found him wonderful and wanted to kiss him on the mouth.

That's... great? Like that's great. There's no universe where that reading of the text isn't awesome and empowering. Queer love should transcend looks and social status, and a huge part of queerness is finding beauty in the 'odd', anyways.

[phagodyke]

venting sorry... don't want to just delete it bc it helps to get it out just ignore this post pls 👍

haven't slept much at all and feeling so sick andstressed and in pain bc my period is due and so tired its making me dizzy but i cant sleep more or ill just feel more sick and I want a hug and to cry so hard into someones shoulder but no one cares or will even come near me it makes me feel diseased they think things about me that aren't true bc I struggle so much to communicate and thry all make assumptions insteqd and no one wants to give me space to talk to them about it so I cant undo that now and its all my fault and I'm so. exhausted :-(

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you. 

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[mara-manson]

The 3 spirits haunting me this winter:

Oh wow, mood low, didn’t see you there. Please stay, make yourself at home and constantly remind me of what awful trash I am.

Ah hi, sad vocaloid song obsession, I haven’t seen you since 2016. Come, join my mood low on the couch.

And of course, my crippling feeling of loneliness while being surrounded by loving people, you complete this clown assembly perfectly, thanks for showing up too.

[kitasgloves]

Having thoughts about arranged marriage au! with FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY. He only married you to get associated with your family's wealth. Oh, but poor naive you, who always believed in fairy tales and love stories. You believed you could love a mysterious, cynical, and dark man like Fyodor.

How pathetically determined you were trying to win his affection. Fyodor thought you were some sort of idiot for not taking a hint that he wasn't interested in romance. You two didn't share a room even if you two were married. There were no tender sentiments or words from him. He told you he wasn't keen on physical affection, surprise gifts, planned dates, or celebrating anniversaries. He strictly told you to keep your distance and listen to everything he said. The fact that you were eager to obey him made him think of you as positively foolish.

However, you were persistent. You tried to cook him food and sneak him small gifts. You made attempts to sing him love songs and throw small parties. You were a true romantic who believed in the magic of love. You were eager to have your husband fall for you as you fell for him.

Unfortunately, Fyodor was at his breaking point. You were so damn annoying and stubborn that it was getting difficult to contain his frustration with you. He snaps at you during dinner when you've planned another extravagant surprise for him.

"Didn't I tell you to quit that? We are not lovers, [Name]. We are only spouses on paper. I do not care about your affection for me"

He couldn't forget that evening. The moment Fyodor spoke those words, the glimmer in your eyes died. He felt momentarily satisfied thinking that you have finally snapped out of it. The following days were a series of odd changes from you.

Mornings were...quiet, for once. You stopped babbling nonsense to him and only focused on cooking and cleaning up. You ceased the gifts and surprise parties. You even quit playing those annoying love songs on the radio that he despises so much. It seemed as though someone had taken the battery out of you.

At first, Fyodor was pleased but as the days progressed, he felt...uncomfortable. He wouldn't like to admit but he does notice a lot of things about you. Such as your habits, and how you seemed to forcefully change them despite your discomfort. With your sudden quietness, he could see how you were avoiding his gaze and biting your tongue when alone together. And lastly, the disappearance of your fondness for him.

He despised to think how he appreciated how you paid attention to his preferences. You always knew which tea he liked, what classical music was his favorite, and how you often looked out for his health considering he has anemia. Now, you grew distant and stopped bothering him for attention.

Has your foolish infatuation with him vanished? If so, why does his chest feel tight? Fyodor waited for you to revert to you how you used to be. Cheerful, loud, and affectionate. He expects you to surprise him with a gift. The house seemed so empty without your constant talking.

Have you given up on romance? Or was it all just a childish dream to you all along?

You don't understand why Fyodor has been staring at you lately. He's been hanging around the house so much that it's suspicious. You can feel him following you around in every room as if expecting something. You're done trying to woo him and you've come to accept the fact that your husband is a cruel man. So, you grant his wishes and stop pestering him. However, in return, he's begun to silently pester you.

When you wish to be alone, Fyodor's always trailing behind you. He was beginning to praise your cooking unlike before. He invites you to go to the library to read or listen to Tchaikovsky with him. Whenever you leave without his knowledge and then return home, Fyodor wants to know where you went.

The old you would've been over the moon from all the attention he was giving you, but you've grown to lose your positivity about this marriage.

"Fyodor?"

"Yes, [Name]?"

"I think we should have a divorce"

The sound of the teacup clattering against the saucer fills the air. You slid the divorce papers across the table towards your husband. Fyodor swallows and blinks, registers his spilled tea and the divorce papers you have produced. He collects his composure.

"Why?"

"I don't see the point of this marriage anymore"

Fyodor likes to convince himself that he's not affected. It should be a benefit or a good opportunity to find someone better to marry. Yes, he's indifferent to the sight of your glassy eyes and wobbling lip. He does not care about the misery you carry of being married to him. Oh, what an absolute liar he was.

"No"

"...What?"

"We are not getting a divorce, [Name]"

You watched with ache as Fyodor took the divorce papers and tore them into shreds in front of your face. Your blood felt hot. Was he purposely torturing you? He has to be. Fyodor is nothing but a selfish man. He revels in your misery of bearing his last name.

Truly, Fyodor was selfish. Why? He couldn't bear to see you go or remarry somebody else. He couldn't stand for you to find your perfect fairytale romance with someone else. Your fondness should only belong to him. Was he not your first romance? Was he not the first one to ever witness your tender eyes? Fyodor just couldn't fathom you gifting another your previous affections. Nobody seemed worthy enough but he.

"We will make this marriage work"

You looked at him from across the table with contempt. You fail to register the determined and passionate look in his eyes.

You will learn to adore me again, one way or another

I've been brainrotting about Fyodor who tries to win his spouse's love back realizing that they're falling out of love with him like pleaaaase he's so unhinged when he's in love

[bbyquokka]

fizzy pop

– yn has a habit of bottling up their emotions, chan comforts them & explains the importance of communicating about feelings/emotions.

pairing | bang chan x gender neutral reader

genre | angst w comfort – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship, mental health (low moods, low/no motivation, lose of interest in hobbies/things), pet names.

words | 2k ~ ( 2,042 )

notes | idk why but i've been putting off on posting this for months, maybe bc im nervous 🤔 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

it's just another day. another day of just being there. another day of feeling like you have no purpose in life except to please others. another day of wondering “what is the purpose of me being here?” you fake smiles, say you're "ok" because saying how you actually feel is exhausting.

aside from it feeling exhausting, you also don't want to draw attention to yourself and when you do speak, you feel stupid for doing so, so you keep it all in, bottle it up until it's too much for you to handle. some days you wonder why you even bother to get out off bed.

is it because of the birds you hear outside? the sun's heat that you want to feel on your skin? could it be the laughter and chitter chatter of others? or maybe you want to hear the rain on the leaves–who knows. all you know is that everyday is the same and it's tiring.

the days merge into one. what day is it even? monday? tuesday? oh wait, it's saturday morning. time doesn't exist anymore. in your mind you see no point in getting up out of bed because again, what's the point? 

so why is it that your boyfriend is gently shaking you, asking, no, begging you to get up.

“darlin'. please get up.” chan whispers as he gently shakes you by the shoulders. you sigh deeply, a tired sigh that causes chan to swallow and his suspicions to come to light.

you pull the duvet over your head, body curled in a small and fragile ball. the curtains are still drawn providing darkness despite the morning rays that wish to peak inside. 

chan has been up since the crack of dawn. he has showered, made breakfast and managed to get dressed. he gave you some extra time to sleep in because he knows you're not a morning person but when the number nine on his watch turned to twelve and you're still not up and out, does he grow concerned.

he's had his suspicions for a while. he's noticed how defeated you sound. how there is little to no energy in the words you speak. he's tried everything to cheer you up, thinking, hoping you were just having an off day. but that off day turned into an off week which slowly, but surely, turned into an off month.

you lost your passion for being creative, lost the will to make anything which you despise. being creative is one of the many pleasures you have in life, to be able to make something and share your creations with others is exhilarating but when you feel like this, your mood turns bitter and cold towards everything you do which results in you resenting everything you create.

you lost the energy to speak to people. to pick up the phone and just talk. you're not deliberately ignoring nor trying to be difficult but keeping conversations flowing is just too hard right now and when you think they're giving you the same energy back do you feel so guilty. 

what have i done to deserve this? why am i forced to feel like this. you find yourself questioning everything late at night. your head loud as soon as it hits the pillow and no amount of music you blast down your ears can silence those thoughts.

everything is so exhausting. everything is the same. you just want to disappear whether that be for a few days or forever, you're not quite sure, but certain people around you wont allow that to happen. they are keeping you afloat, head above water. you desperately and silently wish they never let you go, no matter how hard you fight and push them away.

“baby, please.” chan's words dripped with desperation. his knees on the bed behind you as he kneels causing the mattress to dip. his hands on your shoulders gently as his eyes bore into the duvet, burning holes into it until he is burning holes into you. tears threaten to spill down his soft cheeks as he becomes increasingly worried for you.

“chan..“ you whisper, your words shaking. “please.. leave me alone.” 

he swallows. those three last words he hates to hear. now he is left in a difficult position. should he do as you say and leave you? leave you to fester and rot in your own thoughts and feelings. watch you melt into the mattress and become nothing but a lifeless shell. or should he force himself, force you to acknowledge him. show you, tell you that's it's going to be ok–even if you don't believe him in the beginning.

but this is chan and you know more than anyone how stubborn chan can be.

“lets go take a shower yn, together! and maybe we can go out and get lunch at that café you love so much?”

silence. 

“or how about we go to that art shop! pick up those water colours you've been eyeing up for months?”

silence.

“ok well, what about some new cloth–”

“chan please!” you snap, causing him to jump. “what part of leave me alone don't you understand?!”

you don't mean to sound harsh and you hope chan doesn't take it to heart. the last thing you want is to hurt the one person you adore so much. luckily, chan knows you don't mean it but it doesn't hurt him any less.

“all of it.” he softly speaks. you feel the weight being lifted up off the mattress and footsteps against the wood flooring before the bedroom door squeaks open at the hinges.

your heart breaks. hot angry tears finally being set free and rolling down the bridge of your nose and cheeks, soaking into the material of your pillow. you sob, curling up into a ball even more as your heart aches in your chest. you grip onto the pillow as you silently cry out for chan, thinking he has completely left you alone.

but you did ask for it so why do you feel so guilty?

the duvet gets pulled back from you, the cold air hitting your hot and sweaty skin. the mattress dips once again as an arm snakes over your midriff. chest being pressed against your back as chan spoons you.

“don't cry, darlin'. i'm here, your channie is here.” his soft words provide you with a sense of comfort and an indescribable feeling of warmth as well as relief. his hand strokes your soft stomach, his lips kissing your neck so tenderly you worry that he isn't really there. 

“c-chan…” you sob through your words as a way of confirmation. you can't breathe, the pain of everything that's built up over the past months is making it impossible for you to breathe. your mind fogs over as your chest heaves up and down.

you struggle to take breaths as tears stream down your face. your pillow becomes soaked with your tears. chan strokes your unwashed hair gently, hushing you and singing softly to help ground you.

“sh sh sh. you're ok, you're safe.” he whispers.

“sorry! i'm sorry!” you repeat over and over again in your fits of tears. chan continues to hush you, noticing that it's not working so he gently rolls you over to face him and pulls you into his naked chest. 

the warmth and softness of his skin calms you down in an instant. his natural scent hugs your nostrils and sinks into your heart, soothing your heartbeat as well as your mind. you grip onto him, desperately trying to cling onto something before resulting in wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

he gives you a bear hug. arms around your shoulders gently, fingers raking and massaging your scalp. his chest wet with tears as he continues to hush you through your episode.

there isn't much he can do when you're crying like this except wait. wait for it to pass–and it does, fifteen minutes later.

“better?” he gently asks. you peer up at him to notice that his own cheeks are wet with a few tears slowly falling.

“you're crying..” you whisper as you reach up and wipe the tears away. chan laughs softly before leaning into your touch. “why?”

“because it pains me to see you like this, my love.” that guilt comes back, settling in your stomach and wrapping itself around your heart, like black fog. you look down, tears falling from your lower lash line.

“sorry..” you mumble.

“hey.” chan unwraps his arms from you to gently lift up your head. “it hurts because i can't do anything about it. it hurts because i love you! seeing you in so much pain is rough darling. and it's not physical pain either, it's not like i can put a band aid on your wound.”

“i'm sorry i'm like this, chan. sorry i'm so difficult and such a disappointment.”

“oi.” his tone of voice turns stern which causes you to look up at him. his brows furrowed together as he reaches and strokes your cheek. “you're not a disappointment or difficult baby. it's ok to feel like this, to have off days and feel like nothing is right, however, you have to come to me when you feel like this! or if you can't come to me, talk to a friend.”

“but i hate talking about my feelings, chan.. i feel like a burden and that it just bores people and when i do confined in people, it feels like i don't get the comfort i expect to get so i'm left thinking if it's worth it and if i just expect too much from people.”

“what have i told you about bottling things up, mhm?”

“that it's just going to keep building and building until i explode.” you mumble to which chan hums and nods too

“imagine you're a bottle of fizzy pop. your body is the bottle, your feelings are the fizzy liquid. what happens when you shake a bottle of fizzy pop?”

“it bubbles and explodes, creating a huge mess.”

“and what happens when you bottle your feelings up?”

“i get shaken up by the smallest of things, which causes me to bubble and explode..”

“mhm. you have to remember, my darling, that how you feel is valid. your feelings are valid. you might seem like it's something so small or stupid, but that something small could build and build and build.”

“so i should come to you whenever i feel negative?”

“yes.”

“even if i'm frustrated at a piece of work? even if i can't get a recipe right and it annoys me?”

“yes.”

“but that is so small and not as important..”

“yn, if it's bothering you then it's big. if it's bothering you, it's important to me. if you feel angry, upset, energy less, i beg that you come to me or to a friend! it's important that we voice these things, let it be known because you'll feel better.” he tucks your hair behind your ear gently before you nuzzle into his chest, thinking about what he's saying.

he is correct. he always is and that's the thing that sometimes bothers you, but in a good way! it just means that you can't hide anything from chan, whether it's good or bad and when you are feeling down, chan is always there to pick you back up and dust you off, providing you with love and comfort.

“shall we go shower together to start the day?”

“isnt it a bit late for that? besides, hasn't your day already started?” you mumble against his chest.

“it's never too late to start the day and besides, i don't mind ‘restarting’ my day if it means i get to do it with you.” he kisses the top of your head gently, stroking your back as you tangle your legs with his.

“soon.”

“soon?” he questions.

“i just want to spend some more minutes with you..”

“we can spend as many minutes together as you like, my darling. as long as you're happy and content.”

“i'm always happy and content with you, chan. you're my safe space.”

“and i hope i continue to be and provide you with that safe space, yn.”

[covenha]

The Perfect Cocktail

Synopsis: You and San get into a fight that leads to Seonghwa and Siyeon having to mix up the perfect cocktail to get the both of you to make up. Pairings: Bff!San x fem!reader ; Renjun from NCT dream is also mentioned in the fic but not as a love interest per se; Siyeon from Dreamcatcher is Seonghwa's fraternal twin in this because I said so genre: crack, fluff, angst if u squint and look really hard Warnings: alcohol drinking and going to a club, oc jokes about offing herself once because of school, Siyeon jokes about a dilf professor WC: 2.8k (I got way too carried away this was supposed to be a blurb 😭); flashbacks are in italics a/n: this is fiction, so anything that is written in this piece does not portray these people's character irl. Please always read the warnings carefully. I got way too carried away with this one, but I hope you guys enjoy it! HIMYM is one of my favorite TV shows and I was inspired to write this fic because I rewatched a couple episodes. I also have no clue why I keep writing about clubs and sports, I have like 0 background in that so if there are any inaccuracies then you'll just have to deal with it lmao. I highkey think the formatting of this fic is off but as always, your feedbacks are always deeply appreciated. Hope you enjoy the fic!

“You know, if it bothers you so much, you should just go and talk to him.” Siyeon points out, taking you out of your train of thought.

“I mean, I could…” But you wouldn’t. Siyeon shakes her head.

You and San had a lot in common. You met at the age of six when you both decided you wanted to learn taekwondo. You shared a love for mint chocolate chip ice cream, a dislike for vegetables, and a deep passion for cats. But above all, you were both painfully in love with each other and too afraid to admit it. In your years of friendship, this was one of the biggest fights you’ve had to date. 

[ 1 week ago ]

“I can’t believe you, San. You know how much this club means to me!” You point at San, your eyes are filled with disbelief. The arts club was something that you had joined on a whim during the first week of freshman year, but as time lapsed you grew to love the small group of artists in it. 

“It was only a suggestion, I swear. I didn’t know they meant the arts club. C’mon, y/n, you gotta believe me.” He massages the bridge of his nose, then looks at you. 

“God, you jocks never fucking think about anyone else but yourselves.” You mumble. A hurt expression quickly flashes on San’s face but he quickly regains his composure. You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. The lunch in front of the both of you is forgotten as the atmosphere gets more heated. 

“Look, when I suggested getting funding from somewhere else, I had no idea they’d take it from the arts club. Hell, I didn’t even think they’d take my idea seriously. Y/n, we need the money to get better equipment. You know this. We might actually have a fighting chance against SMU this year!” San argues with you. 

“We had to fight tooth and nail for that money, San. You know those funds were going to help renovate the studio.” You bite back. 

Siyeon and Seonghwa exchanged concerned glances. As fraternal twins, they were extremely good at communicating with each other, almost to the point of telepathy. They shared a look that they knew meant one thing. 

We need to do something about this.

[ 5 days later ]

You groan as you plop yourself on your bed. Today was a long day. You woke up late to your first lecture of the day, scraped your knee because you tripped while running to said class, and had to skip lunch for an emergency meeting with your groupmates for your health ethics class. You silently cursed at your professor for thinking that an impromptu group project was a good idea. 

“I despise that man.” You mumble into your pillow, still laying face down on it. 

“I don’t know, if it wasn’t unethical I’d probably tap that.” You lift your head off of your pillow just to throw Siyeon a disgusted look. 

“Mr. Kyle?! Gross.”

“What? He’s tall and cute. He gives me Carlisle Cullen vibes” Siyeon reasons out.

“He’s also 33, Siyeon.” She just chuckles at my words. 

“Well, enough about your professor. You need a break. You aren’t looking too good.” Siyeon looks at me with genuine concern. 

I probably looked worse than I felt. It was midterms week and deadlines were piling up. To make matters worse, you and San had not talked to each other for the whole week. But both of you were too stubborn to apologize to each other. 

“God, tell me about it. I’m one minor inconvenience away from becoming a statistic.” You joke. 

“Well….” Siyeon starts, I look over at her. “Midterms week ends this week, we could go clubbing this Saturday?” I groan at this suggestion. 

“Siyeon, you did not just suggest that. Remember the last time we went out clubbing?”

“One more martini, kind sir!” Siyeon giggled at the bartender. He handed her the nth martini of the night, and she waddled her way back to the booth where you, San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s friend, were stationed. 

“You know what would be stupid? If you guys dared us to make out. Wouldn’t that be so stupid?” Siyeon giggles again, while nursing her martini. Your eyes widen as you shake your head. She leans into you, making heart eyes at you then looking over to the boys. 

“I dare you guys to dare us to make out.”

Needless to say, you were adamant to get her to sober up quickly that night. 

“Every. Time.” You deadpan at Siyeon. 

“What?! We had a great timeeeee.” She whines out her sentence. She gives me her best set of puppy eyes and looks at me with a pout. 

“Pretty please.” 

“Fine. But no martinis. I mean it.” You could never say no to her puppy eyes. 

“I only suggested that because it would be so stupid…. So stupid.” she mumbles. But she grins inwardly, the plan had to work. 

She sends Seonghwa a text. 

SY: she folded, going clubbing tom SH: san just agreed to tomorrow too SH: operation perfect cocktail is a go SY: i did not agree to calling it that SY: nerd 🫵

[ Earlier that morning ]

The twins are sitting at their apartment table munching on some stale cereal. They clearly had a lot on their mind. It had been 4 days and you and San were still actively trying to avoid each other. This fight had been going on too long for comfort. Usually, you and San resolved fights within 2 days of starting them. You guys were whipped for each other, but too stupid to actually realize it. 

“We need to interfere.” Seonghwa breaks the silence. 

“Yeah, but they clearly won’t talk to each other. At least, not sober.” Siyeon reasons out.

“Wait no, that’s actually a great idea. We need to get those bitches drunk!” He suggests, pointing his spoon around.

���But, we can’t just get them any kind of drunk. We need a plan, Hwa.” 

“Right, right. We need to get them the right kind of drunk. How about something mellow, red wine?” He suggests. 

“I don’t know, red wine has a weird effect on y/n. She reaches like, a sad point of clarity.” 

The room was buzzing with excitement as the countdown for the new year was about to start. Siyeon was sitting across y/n, at a college bar sipping on some red wine. 

“B+. All my life I just wanted to be an A, but I’m a B+. And I just have to live with that?” she stares at her glass with a forlorn expression. 

Happy New Year!

“If we want them to open up, I say we go straight up gin.” Siyeon gets a piece of paper to write down their ideas. 

“Hmmm, last time San got gin drunk it was at that trashy sports bar. He almost got into a fight that night” Seonghwa shakes his head. 

San was trudging through the dimly lit hallway trying to find the men’s room. He turns left and notices another guy walking towards him. 

“Look at this dude. Who does he think he is? Walking to me, showing me no respect. I’ll show this chump what I’m made of.” San thinks to himself. 

He continues walking down the hallway, taking large strides trying to size up his opponent. Just as he is about to make contact with his newly sworn enemy– thump.

What the? 

Oh. It was a mirror. 

“How about cocktails… Pina Coladas?” Seonghwa suggests.

“Well, when san has one of those he gets really into himself.”  Seonghwa recalls. 

It was a halloween tradition for the five of you to hang out at the twin’s apartment and have cocktails. And as the night progressed everyone was getting buzzed with the “pina ghoul-adas” made by Hongjoong. Everyone was gathered at the front of the television watching Gonjiam– all except San who was too scared to even look at the TV. Instead, he was stationed at the front of a full-length mirror nursing the yellow drink in his hand and swaying to the sounds of the movie. He was looking at his own reflection with sensual feline eyes. Clearly he was feeling himself.

“Hey guys. I dare you to dare us to make out.” San playfully winks at his own reflection. 

“Sannie, you know that’s another mirror right?” Hongjoong points out. But San is too busy flirting with his own reflection.

“They’re idiots.” Seonghwa sighs. 

“Agreed.” Siyeon nods. 

“This better work. I can’t have another lunch with the both of them going at each other. They ruined taco tuesday.” Seonghwa says solemnly. 

“We got this.” Siyeon smirks. 

If there was one thing the Park twins were great at, it was meddling in other people’s lives. To this day, you still shudder at what they did to Chris after he stole and reformatted Hongjoong’s laptop. You never wanted to get on either of their bad sides. 

[ Saturday night ]

Dolled up and ready to finally let loose, you and Siyeon book an uber going to the club that you guys usually frequent. But when you get there, you aren’t too thrilled to see San standing near the entrance with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. You look over to Soyeon with an unimpressed look. 

“Really?” You deadpan at her.

“The boys wanted to come with, okay? And I knew you would cancel on me if you knew….” She smiles sheepishly at you. But you know what? You were not going to let some stupid boy get in between you and a fun time. 

“God, I need to get drunk.” You sigh to yourself. This night better be a fun one. 

You guys walk into the club after lining up to get in. The place is teeming with sweaty bodies dancing and grinding on the dancefloor. Usually, you would have cringed at the sight of so many people. But with the 3 shots of tequila you and Siyeon drank as pre-game, the positive buzz was humming through your body and your inhibitions were starting to melt away. You guys make it to the bar but there is a line to get drinks. Hongjoong leaves for the men’s room, and the twins volunteer to get the first round of drinks, leaving you and San to awkwardly sit in silence as you wait for the twins to come back. 

Lining up at the bar, the twins look over to you and San basically ignoring each other. Sitting across from each other at the booth, it looks like the both of you haven’t even said anything to each other. 

“Okay, we’ve cross-referenced every alcoholic drink with their reactions. What’s the right drink for this situation?” Siyeon she eyes the both of you sitting at the booth.

“They aren’t even looking at each other…. Hmm, we need a drink that will start a fight.” Seonghwa says. 

Gin.

-----

“God and we’re back to this again. You can’t honestly believe that I would suggest something like that and be serious about it y/n.” San’s eyebrows furrow at your unimpressed expression.

“I don’t know, San. Can I? I knew you didn’t like me hanging out with Renjun but this would be taking it way too far.” You roll your eyes at him. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing in you. Or maybe it was the over stimulating environment. But whatever it was, you were getting fired up. In fact, you both were. 

“What does this have to do with me not liking Renjun?! I don’t like the bitch but I wouldn’t backstab you like that like some crazy psycho!” Bringing up Renjun clearly bothered San a lot. Of course, he didn’t like him. He could tell that he also had a crush on you. It takes one to know one, you could say. But he would rather manscape coach Liu before he admitted that out loud. Deep down, he knew that some sick part of him was a little happy that you would spend a little less time with the boba-eyed boy. But, he didn’t want to tear down something that he knew meant a lot to you. 

“Well if you really were my friend, you should’ve fought for me!” You point at him. 

“Okay, now that we have them where we want them. We need a drink that will make them emotionally vulnerable. I’m talking full on Kim Kardashian ugly crying.” Seonghwa says. 

“Right. Right. We need something that will turn subtext into text.”Siyeon scans through the handy notes that she took down. 

Whisky.

-----

“I just felt like I was never good enough to be your friend. I’m not talented in drawing like you are. I could never really relate to how you and Renjun banter over your arts and stuff. It felt like I was being replaced!” He tears up. His pout and his red face was melting your heart. 

“Oh Sannie, I could never replace you. I was just so hurt when the club’s funds were going to be used for something else. I was so upset that I took it out on you. I just wanted something to be involved in, you know? To feel important.” You slur out your heartfelt words. 

“y/n, you are so important to me. Like super duper atomic bomb important.” San hiccups. 

“It just felt like you were getting so involved with soccer that you would forget about me…” You pout, tears starting to gather in your eyes. 

“Oh god, I never thought about how you would feel.” San cries out.

“I never thought about how YOU would feel. I’m such a dingus.” You wipe away your tears and frown. You see a bit of your mascara in your finger. But you felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulder. 

“Man that got depressing real fast.” Siyeon looks over at both of your forms drunkenly leaning on one another after that heart-to-heart conversation. 

“We need them to let loose a little. I mean, that’s what we came here for anyway. Might as well give them a little of what they actually came here for.” Seonghwa points out.

Pina Colada.

-----

You and San are slowly swaying your hips to the tunes of Charli XCX’s top hits. The strobe lights are bouncing off the walls, the bass of the songs vibrating throughout the club so hard they make your heart hurt. The both of you were finally having some fun after midterms week fried your brain. 

“Wooooo! Fuck health ethics, fuck my professor, and fuck midterms week!” You nod to the beat of the song. 

San was dancing in front of a mirror placed on the corner of the club, just having a great time twirling the little umbrella that came with his drink. He was making the same sensual look at himself in the mirror, biting his lip even. 

“God I missed this feeling.” Seonghwa sighs in satisfaction, looking over at the two of you breaking it down to Guess by Charli XCX. 

“I know right. Now I know why we love meddling in people’s lives so much. Dance my puppets, dance!” Siyeon rubs her hands together like a villain in a disney movie. 

“Okay, let’s end the night before they black out and forget everything. We need to end it with a bang.” Seonghwa says. 

Beer.

-----

“I love you.” San slurs while stumbling across the pavement with his one arm wrapped around your waist.

“No, I love YOU.” You giggle and boop his nose. You are swayed by his unsteady walking. 

“God, we are just so loving. Nobody is doing it like us, y/nie.” San smiles thoughtfully. 

The both of you are a giggling mess as the twins try and haul you into Hongjoong’s car. The drive to the twins’ apartments was riddled with a bunch more “I love you”s being drunkenly slurred between the both of you. Hongjoong, who was the drunk driver, was nervously looking at the backseat every now and then, hoping and praying that neither of you vomit in his car. But the real challenge was getting the both of you up 3 flights of stairs. 

After successfully hauling the both of you into the apartment, you and San lay a tangled mess on their pull-out couch. The both of you are out cold once the twins managed to change most of your soiled clothes. Sleeping like babies while cuddling each other, the twins look exhausted but satisfied at their work. 

“Mission Perfect Cocktail: Success!” Seonghwa whisper-shouts while pumping his fist in the air.

“I never agreed to call it that.” Siyeon repeats herself.

“Whatever, you donkey. You just hate that I’m more creative than you.” Seonghwa snaps back at Siyeon. 

“Oh please, like I could ever be jealous of your virginity corner.” Siyeon claps back. 

“Hey!”

[aayakashii]

Heyo, I wanted to ask if we could get some Haku, Jin and Leo boyfriend headcanons?

Love your writing! If you do only one then Haku please, he is my boo xD

Thank you🦋

Thank you so much for enjoying what I write!!! ૮₍つ´˘`₎つ₍ ´˘`◌ ₎ა it truly means a lot to me! I am not 100% satisfied with this one hahaha but I hope you guys like it (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)

Dating headcanons – Leo, Jin and Haku

Leo

How did you manage to crack his bitchy exterior is beyond me!

But you did, and now Leo is all yours, which comes with all its quirks.

Leo looks down on most people around him, and when he doesn't, he mostly sees them as interesting or as sources of information.

You are in the interesting category, with a side of romantic and physical interest heavily sprinkled in it.

He'll constantly keep you around him, even if it's unconsciously. He wants you near and will throw a tantrum whenever you need to run your own errands (he needs his parallel play even when he's just listening in to people's conversations)

He's a yapper, so you'll probably end up to date with all the juicy gossip around Darkwick.

Not really the best listener though, but if something is bothering you, he might lend an ear or just straight up tell Sho to beat up whoever upset you.

He is NOT afraid of pda. And he WILL tease you in public because he's a menace.

He hugs you from behind and kisses your neck while you're talking to your friends just to creep them out hehe

Your dates are usually be in very aesthetically pleasing places so he can take pictures and post them on instagram (almost called it magicam help the twst brainrot is real)

He flaunts you online so freaking much. And simply adores when you get jealous of thirst comments for him, although he's quick to ban people that focus too much on you... (jealousy or envy? He'll never say)

Oh and he's spoiled... expect him to whine and beg for you to do whatever he wants and he will not stop until you concede. But you find it cute, so lucky him!

Jin

Two words: princess treatment. It doesn't matter if you're a woman, a man, or anything in between. If you're with Jin, you're immediately a princess.

Despite his grumpy and cold exterior, Jin is clingy and desperate for your attention, so expect him to text you constantly, demanding that you go visit him asap for some random reason he just made up.

Jin isn't fond of pda, but really likes it when you two have to be in public and you squeeze his hand, reassuringly. Anything beyond that is a no-no.

He buys literally everything you think of getting, to the point that even trying to give him a gift is hard because he doesn't want you to spend a cent on him.

Dates are few and far between because he avoids leaving his room, but doesn't mean you two don't meet. He just prefers to cuddle with you and sleep together most of the time. This way, you two can be comfortable alone.

If a special occasion is coming, he might take you to some hidden vacation spot with one of his helicopters though.

He expresses his love through gifts and little things he does for you.

Memorizes everything about your tastes so he can appease to you as accurately as possible: wants to know you favorite colors, flowers, foods, drinks, scents, hobbies, everything.

He keeps it all noted on a secret small notebook that's tucked deep into his pockets and if you end up finding it, no you didn't.

Very, very jealous and he tells you how he feels very bluntly. You end up having to reassure him of your feelings way more than once, because he's constantly afraid of being betrayed.

And btw, I hope you're thinking of marriage, because dating Jin is most likely a permanent part of your life now!

Haku

I hope you're ready to have the most teasing boyfriend ever because he just loves joking around with you to see your reaction.

Sometimes he might just surprise tickle you as well to hear you yelp...

Always gives you a kiss and headpats to apologize afterwards.

Speaking of kiss, he loves kisses. Anywhere. On the lips, on your cheeks, on your hands, on your pulse, on your neck, all over your body.

Haku also is great when it comes to giving you advice and words of affirmation. He's a great listener and your biggest supporter.

He WILL drag you to countless dates. From fancy restaurants, to an empty hidden park, you two will always be going on adventures together.

Also, I think he might be great at massages, so ask for some when you're too stressed from all the work that is put on your shoulders hehe

Haku doesn't really get jealous. He trusts you a lot when it comes to that, so he doesn't mind when you are talking to other guys because he knows they're your friends.

He might join you and put a hand on your waist, but that's mostly it.

Of course, sometimes he might have his moments of insecurity, in which you will need to reassure him, but he's a very understanding guy (just don't abuse it)

He likes to see you in his clothes when you two are alone, thinks you look absolutely adorable with his hoodies.

Haku is absolutely smitten by you, although he's quite nonchalant about it. All he wants is to live a normal life with you by his side.

[guiltyasdave]

still bejeweled

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.4k

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend, your self-esteem is crushed. your best friend takes you to your favorite bar to take your mind off of things. there's a band is playing there tonight and the singer immediately catches your eye. inspired by taylor swift's bejeweled – and when i meet the band, they ask, 'do you have a man?', i could still say, 'i don't remember'

tags/warnings: explicit smut, only 18+, no/pre-outbreak au, no sarah, musician!joel, small age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel's in his mid 30s), alcohol consumption, joel pulls her hair, able-bodied reader, a bit of angst, fluff, making out, fingering, dirty talk (joel talks you through it, i just know it), praise kink, unprotected p in v (i just didn't feel like mentioning it, this is my fantasy world where pregnancies & sti's don't exist, but they very much exist in the real world, don't do this), joel has a big dick (it's canon), consent king joel, rough sex, ass-slapping, hair-pulling, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: this came to me while making breakfast and listening to taylor, and didn't want to leave my head again. pretty self indulgent, i'm fairly certain that a musician!joel in my life would fix me. also, to boyfriends everywhere: fuck you <3

• dividers by the lovely @saradika!

• find my full masterlist here!

You storm out of the apartment, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over. This is it for good, you tell yourself. It's not the first fight of the sort that you and your boyfriend Max – now ex-boyfriend, you guess – have gotten into, with you usually backing down eventually, to keep the peace between the two of you. You've been together for more than three years, and you had hoped that this might be the one – the guy that you can settle down with, the one that you've been waiting for.

But over the past few months, Max has gotten more distant, less involved in the relationship, less interested in you, making you feel like you're burdening him, like you're always asking for too much. Like you are too much. You had asked several times if something was bothering him, something that you could work through together. Everything's fine babe, I don't know why you're even asking. Stop getting on my nerves with this.

You scoff to yourself. Usually, this was the point where you would step back from the argument, not willing to invest energy in a fight that wouldn't lead to anything anyway. Maybe things weren't perfect with Max, but they were what you knew. Familiar, comfortable. Better than being alone. Maybe not the big love that books and movies told you about, but who knows if that sort of thing even exists.

But today, when he just wouldn't give a shit about anything you said, something inside of you had snapped. “I feel like you don't even love me anymore. Do you?!” you had demanded, and the look on his face had told you everything that you needed to know.

That's how you find yourself on the street in front of your best friend's place, the short walk having somewhat cleared your head. Who does Max even think he is? It's not too much to ask to care about your partner, to show interest in them, to support them, is it? And he hasn't done any of that in quite some time.

All things considered, he just wasn't that great of a boyfriend. Still, you can't help feeling sad about it. Another relationship failed, another guy that just didn't deem you as good enough to pay attention to you. Maybe you're just not that interesting, a voice in your head whispers. You sniffle and shake your head, willing the thought out of your mind.

Your best friend Amanda greets you at her door, immediately clocking your slumped shoulders and reddened eyes, and hugs you tightly while leading you into her living room. Her concern for you elicits another wave of tears and you shakily recap today's events to her. She listens patiently, thankfully not telling you that you're better off without him or something like that, because even though you know that yourself, you don't think you could bear someone else saying it.

“I just can't believe that I'm single again and need to start over once more and I just-,” you bite your lip, willing away the tears that are pooling in your eyes, “I just feel like I'm not enough, like I can't keep a guy or I'm too picky, I don't know. It's just so frustrating, I don't wanna end up alone.”

Amanda's expression softens and she pulls you into her arms again. “You're not gonna end up alone, I promise you. You're funny and smart and,” she looks you up and down, “fucking hot. But you can't settle for less just because you're scared of ending up alone, okay? You're gonna find the guy that's right for you and then it will all make sense. Promise.”

You sigh, not sure if you believe her but also not in the mood to argue. After more talking, during which she eventually slips a glass of wine into your hand, Amanda decides that the two of you should go out tonight. Blow off some steam, show the world and yourself that you've still got it, as she puts it. You're honestly not sure if you've ever had it to begin with, but you let her enthusiasm wash over you, playing along as she insists that you wear one of her skimpiest dresses and starts doing your make up. You feel a little self-conscious with the tiny black dress that she has put you in and the dramatic red lipstick that she's currently applying to your lips.

“Don't look at me like that. You look so good and you'd know that if that fucker hadn't made you feel like you didn't for the past few months. But you've been too good of a girl for far too long now, and we're gonna change that tonight. Deal?” She expectantly holds her hand out for you to shake and you feel the excitement starting to bubble up in you. Maybe she's right and you do need to let go of your insecurities tonight. You shake her hand and she laughs delightedly, causing you to giggle as well.

Amanda finally declares that you're good to go, digging a sparkly handbag that's covered in tiny silvery jewels out of her closet. That one's actually yours, but you had left it at her place a few weeks ago after Max had told you how it was just too much and how you looked ridiculous with it. You had let it slide, thinking that it wasn't worth it to ruin the evening by fighting over a stupid handbag. What was wrong with you, you think to yourself now.

You look at yourself in her full-length mirror and you have to agree, you do look good. The short dress leaves most of your thighs bare, hugging your curves in all the right ways and the lipstick looks amazing, drawing the focus to the shape of your mouth. You do polish up real nice.

Amanda's boyfriend Patricks whistles appreciatively when you both exit from the bedroom and wishes you loads of fun. That's what a boyfriend should be like, you think to yourself. Supportive, loving, and just... kind?

Amanda drags you to one of your favorite bars. You've been here countless times together; usually it's a good crowd and the drinks are cheap. It's live music night, you realize as you walk in and notice the small stage at the far end of the room, which also explains why it's more crowded than usual. You push through a few people and manage to find two seats at the bar, from where you can watch the stage and hear the music, but it isn't too loud to talk.

The bartender comes up to you and Amanda orders tequila shots before you can even open your mouth. “I would've stuck to wine,” you complain to her and she shrugs, a big grin on her our face.

“That wouldn't be half as fun. We're going all out tonight, remember?”

You roll your eyes and nod, but when you down the first shot and bite down on the lime, you can't help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “That's my girl!” Amanda giggles and promptly orders another round. After two more shots and feeling the tingling warmth that's spreading through your body, you let your eyes wander around the room until they find the stage.

It's mostly local bands that play here, some better than others, and tonight's isn't half bad. It's four guys, a little older than you, mid-thirties if you had to guess, and their music has an acoustic, country-ish vibe to it. Your eyes linger on the man in the front, who is softly singing into the microphone while strumming along on his guitar.

He's kinda hot, you muse to yourself, gaze trained on the way his muscles are softly flexing while he's plucking on the guitar strings with his large hands, the sleeves of his dark t-shirt straining against his arms. His deep voice is washing over you, reminding you of whiskey and honey, and you squint a little to take a closer look at his face. He has a strong jaw and pouty lips, and dark, expressive eyes that gaze into the room while he's singing. You can't explain it, but something about him just feels... warm. Like he's safe. Kind.

He has a scruffy beard and messy curls, giving him a sort of rugged look, that, combined with his incredibly broad shoulders, has you biting your lip subconsciously. How easily he could cage you in, how big and warm his hands would feel on your body...

Damn, he's really hot. And you really feel the tequila talking right now.

Amanda's fingers appear in your field of vision, snapping impatiently and you turn back to her, heat crawling up your cheeks. You might have been staring a bit too obviously. “Which one?” she grins.

“Huh?” you ask, rather poorly feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on! Okay, I'll guess,” she continues on, not giving you a chance to even try to deny anything, “it's the singer, right?”

“I-,” you start, but the look on her face tells you that it's already a lost cause, “yeah.”

She laughs delightedly and gestures to the bartender for another round of shots. “Oh, I don't think-,” you try to object, but she shushes you.

“I won't rest until you've made a move on that guy, good choice dare I say, and live a little. So drink up!” She toasts to you and you can't help laughing yourself before you tip your head back and swallow the burning alcohol in one go.

You steal another glance towards the stage – maybe a rather extended glance in all honesty – and catch the singer's eye. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then he lets his eyes wander around the room, before returning to you, his lips curling into a knowing smirk when you're still looking at him.

You hastily tear yourself away, leaning into Amanda in an attempt of hiding how flustered you're suddenly feeling. “That was fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear.

“I know,” you whisper back urgently. Then the insecurity kicks back in. “Do you think he really meant me? I mean, we're all the way in the back here, I bet he can barely see-”

Amanda swats at your arm, shaking her head. “Please, he totally meant you. You're gonna talk to him later, you hear me?”

You groan, “Oh my god,” and lean into her further. “I'm not cut out for all this, I wouldn't even know what to say.” She tsks at you and orders another round of drinks, not taking No for an answer.

You loosen up a little over time, throwing a few more glances towards the stage and delight in the way he always seems to just wait for you to look at him. When you've made eye contact several times, he winks at you and you can't help but giggle, a kind of warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol. A wide grin stretches across his face as he announces the last song for the night. You give up all pretenses, your eyes basically glued to him until he strums his guitar one last time, then thanks the audience and joins his bandmates as they wander off the stage.

The bands usually pack up, then join the bar's patrons for a few beers. You try not to appear totally desperate and refrain from staring at the door that leads backstage, instead busying yourself with your drink and listening to Amanda, when you feel someone sliding to the bar counter behind you and a hand lands to rest on your shoulder. A very big, very warm hand, you come to notice, before a deep, honeyed voice floats into your ear, causing you to turn around.

“Hi. Can I buy you a drink?”

He seems even bigger up close, and even more handsome, and your lips part slightly, taking him in. You take a beat too long to answer, just sinking into his deep brown eyes, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “I'm Joel, by the way.” He extends a hand for you to shake and you blink, shaking yourself out of your staring, quickly taking his hand and offering your own name.

His hand dwarfs yours, enveloping it in his warmth and you feel yourself blush. This is the moment, you tell yourself. “I'd love a drink,” you smile at him and he flags down the bartender to take your order. You steal a glance at Amanda, who's nodding enthusiastically.

“So...” Joel drawls when you have your drink, still standing so close to you that you're almost touching, with a smirk playing around the corner of his mouth, “do you have a man, or-?”

Your thoughts briefly flicker to Max, but you find that you can barely remember how devastated you felt mere hours ago, that you can hardly recall his face right now. “No... no, I don't.”

“She most certainly does not, she's all yours,” Amanda chimes in, leaning around you and beaming at Joel.

You can't help but giggle at the entire situation, pleasantly buzzing with both the alcohol in your system and the feeling of having Joel in your direct proximity, and finding him more attractive with every minute that you look at him.

“I really liked your performance,” you tell him and his grin widens.

“Yeah? I could tell, sweetheart.” You laugh; the pet name has your heart soaring in your chest, but you feel completely relaxed with him, not awkward, not desperate to please him or keep his interest. You just feel... good. Really, really good.

Talking to him is easy. He makes you laugh, makes you feel comfortable, and your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much, but you can't stop. He's constantly touching you, his hand lingering on your shoulder, your arm, sliding down to your waist, and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

When he pulls at your hips to pull you off your bar stool, you quickly follow his lead, letting him sway you around to the music that's now playing from the juke box, giggling the entire time. You feel like a teenager, but you couldn't care less. You're tipsy, you're happy, the easily most attractive man that you've ever met seems to be more than interested in you – you feel amazing.

Joel's hand comes up to cup your face, his calloused fingertips brushing over your cheek and you lean into his touch. His eyes flick down to your lips and your breath stutters in your chest. Your arms wrap around his neck at the same time that he leans in until his mouth meets yours, your lips eagerly opening against his.

A pleased hum is rumbling up in his chest and both of his hands grab at your hips, pulling your body flush against him as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands burrow into the messy curls at his neck and you all but whimper against his lips. You feel his mouth curl into a smile before he pulls away, the look in his eyes a little dazed, mirroring your own.

“You you wanna come home with me?” he asks quietly, “I live right around the corner.”

There's no need to even think about it, you want this man desperately. You quickly check on Amanda, who waves you off with a shit-eating grin and some rather crude words of encouragement.

You swing your glittery purse over your shoulder and Joel whistles lowly. “That's fancy. I like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “You do?”

“Yeah. Suits you.” A wide smile is spreading across your face and, without a second thought, you grab his hand to pull him out of the bar.

He really lives close nearby and you're stumbling through a dark hallway barely five minutes later. Joel has his hands on your hips and his lips on your mouth, kissing you roughly as he leads you into what you presume is the direction of his bedroom. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind you and crowds you up against the wood, his hands grabbing at your sides, pulling at the dress, revealing more skin to his touch.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the street below filtering in through the windows, and his eyes roam over you. “Fuck, you're so hot,” he growls and captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his hand coming up to palm at your breasts, roughly squeezing the flesh and running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric. You mewl into his mouth and he pulls back breathlessly. “You're an eager little thing, aren't you?” he murmurs and you arch your back, trying to press yourself back into his touch.

“Please, Joel,” you whimper and he chuckles before diving back in, his tongue hot in your mouth and his fingers creeping under your dress, toying with the hem of your underwear.

He pulls it aside, his fingers grazing your already soaked folds and you buck your hips into his touch. He slides your dress up higher until his hand comes to rest on your bare hip and he searches your face.

“You're feeling good? You want this?”

You nod eagerly and he tuts softly. “Gotta let me hear it, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, his respectfulness paired with the dark look in his eyes spurring your arousal on even further. “I want it, please.”

“Good girl, so polite too,” he murmurs and your legs almost buckle underneath you. His hand travels back between your legs, grabbing at your underwear and quickly pulling it off of you, before his fingers are back, sliding through your wetness and circling your clit slowly.

“Fuck, you're dripping. So good for me, all eager and ready, huh?”

The whine that comes out of you sounds faintly like a “yes” and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he thrusts two fingers into you, stretching you deliciously.

“Fucking tight,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice sounding wrecked already. He sets a languid pace, pausing every so often to curl his fingers deep within you, hitting that spongy spot that has your legs shaking and your hands grabbing at his shoulders as high-pitched whines fall out of your mouth.

You can see the pleased smirk on his face as you're falling apart on just his fingers. His other hand travels up to the straps of your dress, pulling them down and revealing your breasts to him.

His lips suck on the newly exposed flesh and you hear him mutter, “so fucking pretty” against your skin. His mouth travels to your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud, while his fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you.

Heat is boiling in your abdomen, licking at your spine and you can almost taste your orgasm already. “Joel, I'm gonna- please don't stop, please,” you manage to breathe out.

“You're gonna come on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, before sucking your nipple back into his mouth. “Go ahead, let me feel it.” His thumb starts to toy with your clit in quick, precise circles, and you gasp. The heat spreads through your entire body as your orgasm takes hold of you, your toes curling and your legs shaking while you pulse wildly around his fingers.

“Good girl, you look so pretty when you come,” Joel whispers, trailing kisses from your breasts up to your neck as you slowly come down from your high.

Joel maneuvers you to his bed, supporting your weight and gently setting you down until you're sprawled out on the covers. You can still feel the aftershocks from your orgasm, but your want for him is coursing through you like a wildfire and you eagerly stretch your arms out for him.

He chuckles, mumbling something about you being insatiable and quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing golden skin and a body that's obviously strong and muscular, but he still has a softness to him.

You sit back up and scoot closer, your hands flying to his beltbuckle as you press kisses against his belly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his muscles are twitching under your mouth.

You tilt your head up, silently asking for permission as you tug on his pants and he nods, smiling down at you. You pull his pants and underwear down in one go, desperate to see all of him, and you can't help the soft gasp that escapes your mouth at the sight before you.

He's fucking big, and you should probably worry about fitting all of him inside of you, but instead the fire in your abdomen is flaring up again and you subconsciously press your thighs together.

Joel leans down to you, pulling your already bunched up dress over your head and leaving you just as bare as he is.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he smirks.

“I- yeah,” you nod, shyly smiling up at him and he pecks your lips.

“Me too.”

He crowds you in, his broad body looming over yours as you lay back down on the bed and his fingers find their way in between your legs again. He grazes your clit, then swirls a finger through your wetness, spreading it on your inner thighs, and your hips buck up into his touch, causing him to chuckle.

“Impatient little thing.”

You can barely form a coherent thought, you're desperate to feel his cock inside of you and you eagerly part your legs when he situates his body between them. He grabs at your thigh, spreading you open even wider, before landing a playful slap against the backside. An almost embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and Joel's smirk turns downright feral.

“You liked that, sweetheart? You like it when I'm a little rough with you?”

He's grinding his hips against you, sliding his cock through your wetness, the tip almost catching at your entrance. You're past the point of caring, nodding mindlessly, you just want him inside of you.

“Fuck, yes, please Joel, please.”

“Should've known,” he mumbles, “it's always the quiet ones. Actin' all shy, but you need it bad, don't you? Gonna fuck you so good, take such good care of you, don't you worry.”

You whimper, your breath catching in your throat when he lines his cock up with your center, his tip already parting your walls, but he stops himself again. “Tell me once more, sweetheart. You still good, still want this?”

“Yes Joel, fuck, I want it,” you whine. The words have barely left your mouth when he slams into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls fluttering around his length, trying to accommodate him as he's splitting you open. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful, but you still feel yourself getting wetter around him, pain turning into pleasure as he stills inside of you for a few moments to let you adjust.

“Goddamn it, you're tight, you're taking me so good, such a good fuckin' girl.”

His mouth is close to your ear, muttering filth to you with his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin on your neck. Another loud moan falls from your mouth at his words and you clench around his cock that's still buried deep inside of you, causing him to groan.

“Yeah you like that, wanna be a good girl for me, don't you?”

You nod breathlessly and he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back into you, setting a brutal rhythm that's forcing moans from your throat and has you wildly clenching around him. One of his hands is playing with your nipples again, pinching and pulling at your delicate flesh and sending delicious sparks of pleasure straight to your core while he's still fucking you deeply. It's incredible, already easily the best you've ever had, but you still want more, want him deeper.

“Oh my god, p-please Joel,” you stutter.

“Please what?”

“H-harder, please.” He growls at that, pulling himself out of you and flipping you around until you're on your knees, presenting your ass to him. He presses his cock back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and his hand connects with the skin on your ass cheek in a harsh slap.

“Knew you were a filthy little thing, fuck, just waitin' around for someone to give it to you hard, huh?” he growls. The way he's talking to you is going straight to your core and you feel a second high approaching rapidly.

His hand tangles in your hair, making a fist and pulling until you're arching your back, slightly changing the angle and letting him hit a spot inside of you that absolutely devastates you. There's stars dancing across your eyes, your thighs are quivering and your walls are pulsing rhythmically.

“Not someone, just- just for you,” you moan out, shuddering around him as another orgasm washes over you, your vision swimming and you're clamping down on him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel mutters, his hands grabbing your hips roughly and holding onto you with strong hands as he stills his movements and spills himself deep inside of you.

You feel almost delirious as Joel hugs you tightly to his body, kissing you deeply before he gently lays you down on the bed. He cleans you up, gets you a glass of water and covers you with a thick blanket before he slides into bed beside you.

His arm wraps around your middle and he pulls you closer against his chest, engulfing you in his warmth and peppering your bare neck and shoulders with kisses. You nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut as you relax under his soft touches. You can't remember the last time you felt this good. Protected, cared for, happy.

“Sweetheart?” Joel's voice sounds from behind you and you give a little hum. “I know this started out like a one night thing, but-” he pauses, almost sounding a little shy, “promise me that you won't just vanish in the morning, okay?” You smile and crane your head to press your lips against his once more.

“I promise.”

a/n #2: ...yeah, this would definitely fix me. shout out to the real life amanda for being an amazing friend and the best hype woman, thank you for yelling about pedro with me 24/7. also shout out to the real life patrick for being an amazing boyfriend and providing us with insights about the male sexual experience lol. thank you guys for being the best adoptive parents to my third-wheeling single ass. <3

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

[httpshujii]

❝ WANTED FOR A FATAL ATTRACTION . . . ❞

CHAPTER Ⅰ :- ATTENTION

C.W. f!reader is an attention seeking thief, mentions of killing & execution, implications of s*x (not detailed/sugar coated), reader labelled as freak. Please let me know if I missed anything!

TAGS :- @lu-naes @coconut36 @briarbabyxo @number1morihater @kaiser1ns (comment or dm if you'd like to be tagged!)

You don't know what you did to get such a large bounty on your head. You never killed, never found pleasure in the thought of it. Sure, you stole from the richest and you didn't bother hiding your acts.

It's amusing, how your delicate fingers can just snatch all sorts of things out of pockets. You'd find it humorous when they did catch you, when you made sure they knew that you stole something valuable.

The way their faces would contort into shock and morph into pure anger. It's an interesting reaction, you don't know why it satisfies you so much to be seen as a criminal, a known thief.

Is it the thrill it brings when doing something so fragile? Is it to prove something? You questioned your motives on more than one occasion. But it all goes down to one reason.

Boothill. An infamous outlaw, mostly works for brokers. You could never be like him, of course, you don't know how to handle arms nor do you know how he manages to eliminate people like some useless digits in an equation. But to be known by as many people as him is a need. A great wish that only the brightest star can grant, and that star sure does love to stay hidden.

You just want to be known. To be seen and to have your face stamped on the alley walls of Penacony, the word 'wanted' stated right above your head in heavy red ink. It's an indescribable urge.

You blame the lack of attention you got in your younger years. No matter how many times it's repeated, people are greedy and love to talk about themselves. You're no different. If anything, you're worse. This idea of belonging to yourself and loving yourself so much to the point where you want everyone to know every small thing about you, is a major derivative to becoming popular. Whether in a good or bad way.

You realized this power at a young age. Getting accused of cheating when you really didn't, but instead of having your belly bubble with rage at such an accusation, you felt seen. For the first time. Kids are straightforward, if you look, talk, or act weirdly, they'll label you as a "freak."

You didn't have friends, nor did you want any. Their a hindrance, nothing but pawns in a game you didn't know you were playing. You don't know why you used to think that, maybe it was cause you felt invisible. You didn't like it, but it was peaceful.

You remember smiling when the girl who accused you hissed you name towards the teacher, and then you grinned when all eyes turned to you. With that reaction, people agreed on your crime, and into punishment you went.

Cleaning the classroom for a week and retaking a harder version of the test. You took your time, enjoyed cleaning, enjoyed thinking. After all, you had no parents to go home to, no friend to visit. You lived relying on your pickpocketing skills. Stealing a sandwich from a distracted merchant, hiding an apple in your bag when looking through a store. Water bottles, sweets, juice, gum, anything you can get your sinister hands on.

You had the right to survive, just like everyone else. Even if your way bended the laws, you still had the right. At least that's what you told yourself.

As you grew up, you got smarter, more daring. Unclasping pearl necklaces from necks of rich women while complimenting them, flirting with drunk merchants that are too drunk to realize you snatch a few wads of credit, too naïve to notice, too blind by honeyed words to care.

You'd steal like it's a nine to five. You wake up every morning in your hidden shack that was an abandoned garage, brush your teeth, ruffle your hair, apply what little perfume you have left from the perfume store that you stole from a few years ago. Cool, peachy, and flowery. The scent would turn heads, only to be met with a sinister grin and a wallet out of their pockets and in your very trusty hands.

You'd buy yourself a meal, keep it packed till you get back to your humble abode.

"I'm home…"

You have no one to go back to. But these words always feel brand new when they roll out of your throat, saddened, somber. You know you'll never come home to see anyone, you'd probably be dead or on the run by the time. Every day, every night, it's the same routine.

You grew to like it, enjoy the loop of similar activities. Up until now.

As if a shock, he came in and rearranged the pattern. Forced himself into your idea of a perfect lifestyle. You're not mad, there's a reason you have his wanted poster plastered right next to your mattress on the wall of your home. You're excited to this sudden change. Giggling, you shove the drunkard you were trying to bribe away, causing him to stumble and knock himself out on the hard floor of the saloon.

You know he's here for you, it's clear with that killer smile on his lips. His hands hanging loosely on his gun holster, you pull your bottom lip into the light grip of your teeth, your smile so wide your lip slips from the caress of your wet tongue against the slightly chapped surface.

There he stands, in all his glory. The one and only Boothill. Mechanical body glinting under the yellow bulbs, complex machinery whispering a repetitive whir of pumps pumping and gears turning. Teeth akin to a shark's pointy and pearly. Pupils that rotate, gun's targets eyeing you up and down.

Under his calculated gaze, you feel seen, heard, and understood all within the span of a few seconds. Everyone around you seems non existent, they cower in the dark corners of the saloon as the predator approaches you in clicking heels on a wooden floor.

He thinks you look like a little girl. With your legs kicking the air softly, your hands resting beneath your thighs as you gaze up at him with nothing but wonder and curiosity. He doesn't know if he likes it, he's used to siren lulls of scandalous dances, spending a few hours to relish in the plush of steamy nights with what people would call models, but to him, nothing but discarded digits of pleasure. He doesn't even know why he participates in such acts. He's not a human anymore, can't feel a warm body against his, it itches him. Not being able to touch and feel and caress. It makes him go crazy, often shooting bullets at aging walls when he thinks about it too much.

He likes you. How different you are to him, how new you are to him. He feels like it's okay to slow down just this once. He takes a seat next to you. Resting his elbow on the wooden bar, his fist cushioning his cheek as his eyes stay locked on you. You imitate him. Staring at him just as intently. With just as much wonder.

"Can I buy you a drink, sugar?"

MASTERLIST ⋮ CHAPTER Ⅱ . . .

[balkanradfem]

Friends, I have a devastating/confusing update regarding the hot woman in the building, I don't even know what's going on anymore, you be the judge and tell me what you think.

So, if you remember last time we met, she gave me her number, she didn't have her phone on her, so I called her so she could save my number and call me, and come over. She never called and I assumed she just forgot or didn't save my number at all. So I'm like, okay, she doesn't care that much, it's okay, I no longer have a crush on her, I'm normal about this.

Yesterday, as I was about to head out in the evening, I see her standing in front of the building, as if waiting for someone to let her in. I'm someone. I open the door and she greets me happily, and we start chatting in the doorway. We were chatting for half an hour, she didn't seem in any rush, she was done with work, she told me she's about to go shower and relax for the day.

So in that conversation, we touched up the subject of how it feels to live with other people, since we're both introverts, and I mentioned 'oh but you live with your son and have to take care of him every day, but that's different, that's love' and she goes 'well you could find a guy and then live with him and you'd have love too'. And I froze. My eyes went blank. Soul fully left the body. I stared at the distance. The only reply I managed was a slow 'Oh.' My every thought about her was re-engineered in my head to accept that this woman not only has no interest in me, but is probably straight. Which was tough but I dealt with it, I accepted it, straight people can have buzzcuts I guess, whatever.

I responded with something like 'oh I don't want to clean after them, you know how they are' and we had a fun 5 minutes just trashing males, she told me she got divorced twice so I knew that she knew what was up, she agreed with me on most points.

I think my blank stare and extreme reaction I had about being told to 'get a guy' tipped her off about something, because she afterwards started talking about how she would maybe do better with a woman, and I was like Oh?? But then she backtracked and said she was scared of being heard because people in here are not very accepting of that, but she is, she thinks 'gay is okay' (I am nodding with a smile). She tells me about living abroad and how people are not actually accepting of that, but they don't care as much, nobody bothers you. At this point I'm just confused of what she's saying, like is she telling me about her personal experiences of being openly into women abroad? Or just talking in general what she noticed about homophobia out there? Or was it about trying to survive out there with a buzzcut? I don't know.

Then we sneaked into the bicycle room and she complained how I always wear a hat, so I explain to her that I have to, because I have sick ears; she's asking me over and over can't I just take it off, for a second? Basically begging me to take it off, just so she can see me without it, and I fold, and take off my hat, and she's mesmerized. She's looking at me with this weird shine in her eyes like she's never seen anything like it before, I'm pleased but also utterly confused because if you're straight why are you looking at me like this?

I decide enough is enough and I need to bring her over, so I drag her into my apartment, we've been talking for so long just in the hallway and we could be in my kitchen. She goes reluctantly, and then lingers at the entrance and doesn't come to the kitchen after me. I come back and ask 'Are you uncomfortable here? Do you not want to see the kitchen?' and she apparently was worried she would dirty the floor with her shoes. So I drag her over to the kitchen, and I luckily had a little jar of candied quince which I made the other day! (sidenote, did you know that David Karp makes candied quince recipes online? I have discovered this.) She loves my candied quince, and again, goes 'You're ready to get married' to which I'm immediately SO MAD, and I fight her on it, I go 'Do you think a husband could make candied quince??' and she looks at me 'oh no way' 'Well I DON'T WANT A M*N WHO CAN'T EVEN CANDY QUINCE and she laughs. I also give her a persimmon I got as a gift, because that's a semi-exotic fruit and I want her to try it. She likes my kitchen, gives me nice comments on every little handmade pillow and basket, she's in general so sweet, she hugs me, she likes my paintings, I'm happy. Then when we were getting ready to both leave, she goes 'I see you hate bras just like I do', and I'm offhandedly saying 'yeah who created that evil' but in my head I'm like I'm wearing a sweater right now, I'm wearing a sweater and you noticed? You looked at my chest enough to notice, and then you informed me you don't wear a bra either??? And then I called her phone again to be sure she saves my number, which she didn't the last time, and we both part and go our merry way.

I am driven mad by her behaviour and I don't know whats going on. Could anyone diagnose this situation. I am weeping I've been told to marry off a guy twice. I'm being pressured into being an unwilling bride by a woman with a buzzcut who I had a crush on. Regret and devastation. But then she also does things that I would call flirting if I thought she was in any way interested. I told her to stop calling me child-nicknames too and it did not work. I'm 34 I don't deserve this.

[literaila]

Hey, I don’t know what you make of love triangles but I’ve always wondered how Typical Family would look like if reader once had a “not so obvious” crush on Geto and the two almost looked like a couple except Geto only saw her as a friend and Satoru doesn’t actually start to “see” reader until he sees how broken up she is after Geto’s betrayal. Kind of looks like the thing between Sasuke/Sakura/Naruto (ahem Except Sakura takes the less toxic path). You don’t have to indulge in this nor does it have to be canon to your original story but I’m just curious 🌚

now i dont think satoru was ever jealous of suguru because 1. suguru is all-knowing and 2. suguru is a literal big brother to you and there is only platonic admiration there.

but. you know who satoru is jealous of? nanami kento.

okay, there’s really no arguing—the boy needs a haircut.

he also needs to stop letting you hang off of him, and taking you out to dinner (because you find his interest in food a bit bizarre, and funny), and making you laugh all of the goddamn time.

satoru may be the strongest, the prettiest—but he has the disadvantage of being older than you. it’s not often yaga sends the two of you somewhere together—or any of the first years with the seconds.

and it’s just not fair, okay?

the only reason you even train with satoru is because he’s the only person who can see your technique, the only one who has a fair fight.

in fact, the only reason satoru gets to hang out with you at all is because you like everyone else. your classmates like suguru and shoko—and tolerate satoru.

and maybe it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he sees you standing a little bit too close to nanami. maybe it makes him feel like his world could collapse—disappear—right in front of him.

he does not want to endure being subjected to your schoolgirl crush on a boy who can’t even be bothered to cut his hair. and what would you see in him anyway? are brown eyes preferable to his outer-worldly blue ones? is satoru’s hair just not yellow enough?

…is nanami your type?

all of this to say, it’s definitely not satoru’s fault that he just accidentally threw nanami across the courtyard.

it’s the boys fault, obviously, for daring you to wish him good luck, for saying something so funny before they began that his smug face is still so pleased from making you laugh.

it’s not satoru’s fault.

but he does realize his mistake when instead of aweing over him like he’d wanted—you rush to nanami.

satoru is standing there, a rare frown on his face, looking down at his hands like they’re going to give him some answers.

“are you taking your anger out on the first years, now?” suguru asks, dryly, looking over to where you’re checking nanami’s pupillary response.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” satoru grumbles, feeling even more betrayed.

what does that kid offer than he can’t?

“you know you could just talk to her, right? you don’t need to beat nanami up to prove a point.”

“if he wasn’t so weak i wouldn’t have—“

and then you’re walking back to them, nanami’s arm slung over your back as you half carry him. his face is already puffing up. “where’s shoko?”

you give him a look with unbridled rage. satoru can already feel the scolding coming on.

“i think she had a meeting with yaga, or something,” satoru answers, giving you his best innocent look.

it does nothing.

suguru inspects nanami. “do you need help?”

“no,” you frown at the boy hanging on you and sigh. “i’m taking him to the infirmary. i don’t know where yu went, but if you see him will you tell him that we left?”

“sure.”

suguru nudges satoru. “uh, yeah. we’ll tell him.”

you nod sternly at them both. “thank you.”

and then you’re walking away, even closer to nanami than you were before.

satoru is already pouting. it doesn’t take much.

“you’re stupid, you know that?”

“he asked me to—!”

“he wanted to learn. not get a concussion for no reason.”

satoru waves a hand. “he wont even remember it tomorrow.”

suguru is smirking at him, looking like he knows something that satoru doesn’t. “because he has brain damage?”

“because shoko will heal him.”

suguru only shakes his head. “i’m going to find haibara. he probably got lost again.”

satoru nods but remains there, with his arms crossed.

seriously, nanami kento of all people?

*

meanwhile, you’re lugging kento up onto one of the tables in the infirmary, feeling like you should’ve forced gojo to carry him the whole way.

you would’ve—if the sight of him didn’t make you want to rip your hair out.

…for a multitude of reasons, of course.

“okay. you okay? how’s your head?”

“bruised.”

you snort, pushing his hair back so you can see the black eye that’s already developing. at least it won’t get the chance to turn purple, you think.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why gojo did that.”

kento laughs, leaning again away from your hand. you wonder if it’s his possible concussion, or if what you said was really all that funny.

you’ve only gotten him to laugh like… three times.

“you can tell him that i’m not interested in stealing you away.”

“gojo?”

he nods.

“why would i tell him that?”

nanami’s eyes closed. he looks like he’s aged years in the last hour. “are you naturally ignorant, or are you trying to distract me?”

you cross your arms. “what do you mean?”

“whatever’s going on between you and that white haired freak, just leave me out of it.”

“going on? there’s nothing going on. gojo is just an idiot—“

“seems like it’s spreading.”

“are you sure you’re okay, ken? i think you’re going crazy.”

nanami sighs. you can practically see his eyes rolling under his eyelids. “where’s shoko?”

you look around, biting your lip. “i don’t know… i thought she’d be here by now. i’ll go check the classrooms.”

he nods.

“don’t fall asleep, okay? i mean it.”

“just hurry.”

and you turn around the door, more questions running through your head than when you walked in.

*

satoru is still standing there, contemplating his life choices (of which there have been few) when you’re running back across the courtyard.

but you slow as you near him, your eyes filled with intent.

and maybe he was waiting for this.

“you asshole,” you say, hitting him on the shoulder—which he allows because any moment of you touching him is one that satoru wants to savor. “what were you thinking?”

he stands there, completely still, for just a moment more. you’re here now. with him. who’s with nanami then?

still, he shrugs. “i just forgot how weak he was.”

“oh, you forgot? you forgot that it was training and kento isn’t some special grade curse you—“

“is he dead?”

“what? why would you say that?”

“if he was really a special grade curse he’d already be dead.”

“you’re so arrogant,” you grind out, shaking your head at him. “and reckless! kento probably has a concussion.”

“then why aren’t you looking after him?”

“i—what?”

“why are you here yelling at me,” satoru gestures to himself, a grin forming on his face. “instead of making sure that he’s okay?”

“i—“ your mouth opens. then closes. “i went to go look for shoko and i didn’t think that you…” you shake your head again, frowning.

satoru just smiles at you.

he likes you a bit flushed and angry anyway.

“stop smiling at me like that!”

“what? i’m not allowed to smile now?”

“no. after today you’re not allowed to do anything. you’re lucky i’m such a good person or else you’d be six feet under—“

“you expect me to believe that you would actually kill me?”

“if i didn’t have a moral obligation, yes.”

satoru laughs.

“shut up,” you say, hitting him again. “i’m angry enough that i could do it.”

he shakes his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder. he has to make up for all of the time that nanami got to cling to you—has to repossess this, or he might go insane.

“that’s not why i’m laughing.”

“get off of me.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” satoru whispers, right in your ear, delighting in a shiver that you can’t hold back. “even if you could. you like me too much to do it.”

you push him off of you, scowling. “i do not like you—“ you insist, only slightly breathless. “you just beat up my friend for no reason.”

“friend?”

you scoff, crossing your arms and looking up at satoru like he’s a demon sent straight from hell—just to torment you.

have you ever looked at nanami like that?

no, satoru thinks, you haven’t.

“yes, friend,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, “i know you’re unfamiliar with the concept but really. why is everyone acting so weird today?”

satoru’s grin is almost blinding. there’s no one else you get so worked up over. no one else who you would pause just to yell at.

“c’mon,” he says, instead of answering. he pushes himself back onto you, pulling you close by your waist. “i’ll look for shoko with you. you can tell me about how much you like me on the way.”

“gojo satoru, i will still murder you—“

[lara4eclipze]

“Expensive”

sypnosis; being an OF wasn't that hard , one pic here and there , yet sometimes it intrigued who was these people—especially your top payer

cw; smut (!) , sw!reader , pervy Lara , swearing, , usage of degrading names , kinky shit , G!P Lara,not proofread, men do not interact!!

"what the fuck" you exhale as you take a look at your dms , one thing about being an OF model I guess — men will request the most outrageous shit ever

"fuck it" you say picking out one of the request— this one wasn't too bad oh! and it's made by your top payer

"wear my favorite lingerie?— not bad" you say , she payed like what thousands every month practically paying for your monthly dues

going to your closet and picking out one, which one pink? maybe red?— god it said your favorite why are you stressing it out

deciding on an simple pink one with ribbons , sighing out of relief — now all you have to do is shower and get the set up ready

--

after setting up the cameras and most importantly the lingerie, you get into position and take pictures

"wait should I text this to her? or is it a him?" you never really knew the gender since Lara went on your page under an anonymous name

after the"photoshoot" you ofcourse had to edit them think of a caption and so many things

afterwards you sent it to her , thanking her for her donations

"hello!— i noticed you were my top payer, here's a little thanks 😉" and sent , now we wait?

ding!

ding!

"oh my gosh— thank youu , honestly love your content!!" she immediately replied which surprised you

i mean the way she types , is she a girl??

"welcomee , if it doesn't bother you are you a female??" you ask , confused

"female , why?—I'm Lara by the way" she replied right away so she had a lot of time in her hands

oh and Lara? is that why her user was just L?

"nothing! — I was just wondering" you replied

--

a few days passed by , and Lara did not miss a single hour of donating

"hey—i was wondering how much I can uhm pay you to meet me in person?" Lara suddenly chats you

at first you were taken a back but after a little thought you decided to agree

"can you please show me pictures of yourself first?" you replied, yes you knew she was a girl but you can never be too sure

L sent three files

your phone rings , opening the photos you were stunned she looked beautiful, her eyes were like a siren calling out to you

"wow you're gorgeous" you replied

soon you were both planning out the day and time you would meet , you both settled for her apartment

--

the day comes and your standing outside her apartment, you were strangely sweating and your heart raced

"hey—how are you" Lara says as she opens the door , she looked mesmerizing her arms were toned, her face was sculpted by god himself

"uhmm" she trails off , god did you just snoozed off

"oh uhm sorry! " you replied, she lets you in and you both settled at the living room , her apartment looked expensive, I mean considering she spent thousands on you she can probably spend millions alone

"drink?" Lara asks , handing you a glass with some nice wine in it , she took a sip out of hers god she looked hot

"thanks.." taking a sip aswell , it tasted spectacular, like expensive, fine wine

a little bit of chatting and talking about your interest , it truly felt like a date but it's weird since you know she pays to see you

maybe it was crazy that you got drunk because of wine , but your tolerance was as low as 0

you were checking her out shamelessly at this point, her fingers , her face gosh , your eyes trailed down to her thighs , wait is that a bulge?—she noticed you especially where you were looking

"why princess? , want to try?" she ask her voice was husky and laced with seductiveness

you couldn't think straight , you aren't straight that's one thing

you hadn't noticed how close you both were till you felt her hands on your waist hoisting you to sit on her lap

your arms wrapped around her nape , core perfectly aligned with her bulge — you were gonna lose it

"my pretty girl — tell me what you want" she purrs

"please" you pathetically whine against her , her lips found yours , her hands deftly removing your clothing till you were left with your undergarments

"shit" she whispers , she loved it truly

"don't stare" did you just get embarrassed?, you did this for a living selling pictures of your body

to make you comfy she removes hers aswell leaving herself in some boxers and sports bra

"gosh you look better in real life" she says , was that a compliment?

"i just didn't expect you to be whore outside OF aswell" now you're soaked , how can someone make you feel this way when they degrade you

slowly she removes your lacy undergarments , her fingers finding your swollen clit begging for attention

"so wet , how nasty of you" she snickers

you whine , god your head felt fuzzy from her words and her fingers , have mercy on me Lara

"your cunt is so tight" she tsks , as her fingers probe your insides

by this point moans fill her house , you gently rock back and forth on her fingers seeking pleasure

until you felt her pull out her fingers at first you whined earning you a deep chuckle from the indian

you felt a much more bigger thing replace it — god was that her shit .it felt amazing the stretch that her tip kissed your cervix

"faster please" you moan , as she started bouncing you on her , you started blushing and sweating out of pure pleasure

her hands snaking around your breast taking one in her mouth , swirling her tounge around it

"gonna fill you up" she pants , hemr moans mix with yours as she keeps a brutal pace , the knot in your stomach quickly getting tighter

"please fill me up!!" you moan pathetically

"such a fuckin' whore for me" she breathes out before finally painting your insides

you silently scream—she prolonged your orgasm until you felt exhausted

pulling out of you , Lara took a look at your cunt dripping with her cum

"beautiful" she says before carrying you to her bed resting you there

"are you okay?" her kind demeanor now back

"yes thank you" you replied

"okay that's good— take a nap , I'll wake you up when dinners ready" she says smiling at you

you hum far too tired to form words

[seokari]

He doesn't know what his true feeling are.

Note𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅: Remember that english is NOT my first language so please, excuse my spelling mistakes ♡.

Warnings₊‧: None, just fluff and I think there's no angst, or maybe just a little bit, so, please enjoy.

Accepting his feeling was a no go for megumi, and there's the problem, he knows he isn't good at expressing himself, but he doesn't even wants to try.

And, another problem is that you don't know this, so, he trying to be nonchalant to you made you think he hates you.

When you hang out with your friends, there was Megumi talking peacefully to the rest of them but ignoring you completely, even tho you tried making a conversation.

On mission, he just said you don't need to go do the work because you are going to be a bother for him. (You ended up saving his dumb, egocentric ass)

On training, he says he doesn't want a vs with you because you are too weak for him. (He's trying to sound interesting plus he is really afraid of hurting you by accident).

One time you fell asleep on his shoulder, and he pushed you until you were sleeping seated, he didn't wanted you to think he has a sweet spot for you, but he does.

He knows that, even tho he is an asshole to you, he has your attention. Or well, he had, once you had enough of his demeanor, you started ignoring him, acting nonchalant, being more friendly, touchy, even flirty with Yuuji, and, he (Megs) didn't like, not even a bit.

-------------

You two could be joking during a mission while Nobara did something else, but Megumi's hot gaze was set on you two.

He tried convincing himself that he hated your laugh, but he didn't, he hated that you were laughing at other man's comment, not his.

Until he had enough, "Could you two shut up already, we are trying to concentrate" His brows furrowed.

"I didn't said nun" Nobara spoke.

"Ok, geez, I don't know why you hate me so much" You said.

"I d-dont ha-" He was interrupted

"Hey look here, I think I found it" Nobara pointed

-------------

Yuuji noticed Megs behavior, his suddenly annoyed face when you were near him (Yuuji), so Yuuji started getting away from you (not that much, just being less touchy and stuff), you noticed this and thought he hated you too now.

But he reassured it was nothing.

Yuuji decided to have a conversation with Megumi about his demeanor towards you, Megumi really denied it at first, but after listening to Yuuji's yapping for what seemed like an eternity, he started believing it.

You were a little bit far away from them talking and messing around with Nobara, Megumis soft look has being around your during all the convo with Yuuji.

He started thinking "stupid" things meanwhile, like how is you skin so porcelanic, how soft your hair looks, that dumb smile you have when Nobara said something that seem funny made you look cute, and your hands looked so tiny, how are they compared to his?. He couldn't deny it anymore, he felt, hard, he felt really hard.

He turned his head towards yuuji that is still yapping. "Im an idiot right? Is the first time I feel like this"

"Yeah. I mean kinda-" He kept quiet when he saw Megs serious face.

"Omfg" He got back on his feet. "im having a walk, and then im talking to her"

"Yeah, you should, she told me she thinks you hate her, like, extremely, like you despise her"

"Just shut up you are making it worse, what if she decides i was just being an ass and she doesn't wants to talk to me"

"I think that is what is going to happen"

"Ok, now in definitely not going to talk to her"

"I meannn" Megumi looked at him "I could be wrong"

"Kill yourself" Megumi took his things and started walking towards you.

" If that makes you happy megs" Yuuji took his things too and started walking toward nobara, you and Megumi need privacy.

--------------

Hiii, I dont know how to continue this, cuz I think it pretty obvious what is going to happen.

Confession -> is mutual -> Megumi being a complete tsundere at first -> Getting used to be around you -> Clingiest boy ever -> Happy ending.

Hope yall like it₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

[anothermansjeans]

never give you peace

s.r x youtuber!reader

summary: during their first date, youtuber!reader feels the sudden anxiety that they can never give spencer peace

cw: little angst; hurt/comfort?? mentions of going to a restaurant, strangers coming up to reader, reader is in their head :( the smallest mention of the foyet/haley plot

wc: 855

a/n: hi!!!!!! i would LOVE to take requests for youtuber!reader and spencer!! PLEASE send them in! i love these two sm. inspired by peace by taylor swift!

++

You didn't know when it started happening– the random people walking up to you asking for photos– you just gradually started to get used to it after twenty or so times. Normally, it wouldn't bother you. The people who support you and the reason you make YouTube videos deserve the world in your eyes, but now that you're here, walking down the streets of D.C with Spencer on your first date… it was bothering you… just the tiniest bit!

It took a while for you and Spencer to get to this point. A lot of phone tag (you were both very busy people), you being out of town, and Spencer being out of town really put the two of you through the ringer. To say you deserved this moment of having a proper first date would be an understatement, which is why these two sweet girls walking up to you with shy smiles put you on edge.

“Hi! You're Y/N, right?”

You and Spencer were supposed to be at the small bistro not even a hundred feet away at this point. If you were by yourself, you would be ecstatic to talk to them. Maybe you're a shitty person (you're not. Spencer would later make sure to explain that you're allowed to have boundaries and that talking to strangers normally puts people on edge). Maybe for once, you wanted to not talk to the people who made your career possible. Maybe you feel too bad even thinking this way that the people pleaser is screaming to come out. “Uh… hi.”

“Do you mind taking a picture with us? We’re obsessed with your videos.”

You've been hyper aware of Spencer by your side the entire time. He’s never seen you in your element with followers. You have no clue if he's ever been through something like this with anyone he’s previously dated, but you want to assume this is all new to him and you're probably scaring him away as the seconds tick by.

You're only brought out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer speak up next to you. “Go ahead.”

“Okay…” The process was relatively quick. Spencer offered to take the photo, the girls thanked him profusely, and about five photos total were taken. When Spencer returns the phone the two turn back towards you with wide smiles plastered on their faces.

“Thank you so much! Have a nice night!”

And that was that. Except, it didn't feel like it was done. There was an awkward feeling settling over the two of you, but nothing was said as Spencer linked your arms back together and continued to walk to the bistro.

It was eating at you the entire time you've been in the restaurant. He never brought it up though, always steering the conversation to your shared interests and throwing in a fun fact now and then. It was right before the check came that you finally had enough with the all-consuming thoughts and blurted out the only thing you could truly focus on.

“I could never give you peace.”

“What…?” His wrinkled eyebrows did all of the talking.

“My… job. More people have been doing what those two girls did– asking for pictures. And I know how serious your job is, if people start asking for pictures of you too… I don't want to put you in that position.”

It was quiet for a moment. Although he was a genius, Spencer needed a moment to take in what you said. “Ditto.”

What? “What?” You slapped your hand over your mouth. You did not mean to say that out loud.

He didn't flinch, going straight into explanation. “My job is serious. Serial killer serious. My boss lost his wife because of this job. If you're worried about me in regards to your job, I’m worried out of my wits for you.”

“So… if we both can't provide peace?”

“It's a good thing I enjoy a little chaos.”

A small smile was shared between the two of you, and after the waiter dropped off the bill, you took another look at him. “Well, Dr. Reid, you really are a genius. You solved a majority of my fears with one small conversation.”

“It doesn't take a genius to see what he has in front of him has great

potential to be one of the best things in his life.”

A smirk appeared on your face when he shyly looked at you. “That good, huh? Does that mean I scored a second date?”

“Of course!” Spencer perked up, eyes immediately widening. “Did you know that the typical success rate for getting a second date is 13.7%, which gives a match an opportune time to learn the real chemistry between them and their match, including their values, passions, and family? First dates are actually–”

Sitting there, listening to him changed the smirk to a genuine smile. Maybe the two of you couldn't provide peace on the outside, but as he continues to speak passionately, you feel nothing warmth spread throughout you. The same type of warmth you feel at home; the same type of peace.