#I think a maybe common theme is pretty faced guys but other than that yeah…

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 01/07

Anonymous asked:i think youre the first liveblogger ive seen to actually remember that orphaner dualscar was eridan’s flarping name?

Mindfang clearly describes the Serkets, so I wonder if Dualscar says anything about the Amporas?

Eridan's greatest enemy does have a duality theme, after all - and he was certainly scarred when the guy stole his crush >:)

@captorations asked:i have terrible news regarding homestuck and the good place: https://x.com/nbcthegoodplace/status/1039908767763259392?lang=en not to mention that. well. the two share more than you've encountered yet. it's very likely not a coincidence. have fun! oh and. re: my ongoing campaign of pointing out the homestuck ancestry of tlt characters. please compare aradia's "i am very much alive and i intend to stay that way" with dulcinea's "i'm not in the river and i won't ever be again"

...oh my god.

On reflection, this makes a lot of sense. Homestuck's fandom is pretty large, and some of its members were bound to be involved in the production of mainstream media. Still, it's wild to see a Homestuck reference - or, technically, a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference - on the official Twitter for a show this big.

And Aradia does have a lot in common with Dulcinea, doesn't she? For one thing, they didn't really start influencing the plot until after they died.

Anonymous asked: Not really important anymore, but looking at what Gamzee has in his Strife Deck, it doesn’t look like he has any ranged options: he’s got the bowling pins, what appear to be a discarded sickle and lance from Karkat and Tavros respectively, what I’m PRETTY SURE is a whip of some sort, and the Zillyhoo hammer. The closest to a ranged weapon in that stack is the whip, or maybe the pins if he’s willing to throw them, but neither seem like they’d work very well against Vriska. Barring some secret power or other plot twist, I think Gamzee would genuinely be the underdog in that matchup. (Which feels weird, because Gamzee’s been mutating into a slasher villain while Vriska’s still very much an antihero protagonist. Usually the power balance is the other way around with those archetypes!)

On the face of it, Gamzee didn't seem to have great odds in that fight - but it's hard to know for sure with this pesky Bard. His Strife Deck contains plenty of cards we haven't seen, and whatever he did to the Black King is still shrouded in mystery. Everything's just so uncertain with him.

@mimescantscream asked: I've really been holding back all this time, but now that we've met the Grand-highblood, it really is extra painful to see a Gamzee who was once incredibly loving of his friends (despite their constant ridicule) end up falling down the path that fate seems to have pre-ordained for him. Was he truly always meant to repeat echoes of the past? Could things ever have gone differently for him?

Yeah, I've been having similar thoughts. His PoV seemed completely sincere, so I don't think his original personality was a fabrication, or anything. I think there is a part of Gamzee that cares about his friends - and maybe even he wants it back.

@jade-harley-real asked: […] I want a rant on the bad doctor from you pls pls pls

Scratch is straight up the scariest character in Homestuck.

What's he up to now? Hard to say since we're not telling him what to do. Guardians can never be told what to do.

The aura of menace he's cultivated is incredible, especially considering he barely even moves. He's playing the entire cast like a fiddle, armed with nothing but a typewriter and his own supercharged brain - and there's no doubt in my mind that his confidence isn't a mask. He knows he's going to win in the end.

English is coming. He's basically already here.

@elkian asked: I'll probably never be a Vriska FAN, but I gotta admit, she really never had a chance, what with the only adults in her life being: a trollvorous spider 1 missed meal away from eating her, Marquise "I do what I want" Mindfang, and Doc Scratch. Some role models! @manorinthewoods asked: So, now that Mindfang has been revealed, here's a question for you: how much of Vriska's Vriskyness is because she's Vriska, how much is because of Mindfang, how much is because of her lusus, and how much is because of Alternia in general? ~LOSS (20/6/24)

This is why I don't think she'd be like this on Earth. At this point, it's obvious that none of her Incidents were the result of her personality as it naturally arose.

I mean, look how anti-Aradiacide she was! They weren't even really friends!

Anonymous asked: ‘AA: there are all sorts of friends to meet AA: ones you already know and ones you dont’ I mean…couldn’t she just be referring to various doomed selves? I don’t see why the dream bubbles would just be confined to the alpha timeline seeing as the furthest ring is weird in terms of time and space

I was assuming that only Alpha Timeline deaths would be preserved by the Bubbles, but you're right - I'm not sure that was a reasonable assumption.

The Horrorterrors seem to eschew the concept of the Alpha Timeline. and, they've coordinated with both Doomed and Alpha versions of Rose and Dave. Plus, yeah, there is no time in the Ring, so timelines are probably meaningless there. Why would it only interface with the Alpha?

If the Bubbles do preserve doomed souls, then we might also run into the John who died to Typheus, and the Jade he couldn't save. That's a pair of ghosts I'd be very interested to meet.

Anonymous asked: If every Aradia comes back from every doomed timeline, the number would double each time, so you could get over a thousand of her with only ten doomed timelines.

Fair point- although, if an already doomed Aradia went back in time again, she'd be double doomed. Is that even possible? Would she die twice as quickly?

@mhafanlol2000 asked: Your issues with quirks and speech-to-text are pretty simple to explain. If a troll were to speak into a non-modified speech-to-text program, it would output text with their quirk. Because they, quite literally, speak in their quirk. Terezi probably isnt actually saying “YOU H4V3 LOST TH3 G4M3”, each number at a time, but the vibes are definitely there. I don’t know, this is hard to describe if you don’t inherently get it.

I think, jokes aside, it is indeed about the vibes.

In the troll intro pages, you get told a little about how each troll talks, and I think that's how we're supposed to translate their quirks to an audible medium.

Anonymous asked: i think ppl in the fandom have over time kinda built up a like, generally separate understanding of quadrants from how theyre described in the "official" explanation. which is like, not representative of how these terms are used in homestuck, but probably more useful for describing Good relationships that Do Not Suck. like basically making moirails equivalent to being queer platonic partners, making blackrom more about having a healthy fun rivalry, that kinda stuff.

It's funny, actually - I don't think I've encountered a single asker who accepts the quadrants as they're originally described.

The main issue is that, with the possible exception of matespritship, we haven't seen a single troll relationship with reflects the infodump's explanation of the quadrants. I think Hussie might just have jumped the gun a little when dropping it.

Anonymous asked: Shoutout to Karkat poking his friends in the background! Terezi (crying over Dave) and now Soloux (talking to Terezi). Karkat isn’t sure what the right response is but wants to be included! Reminds me of actual cats, just putting a paw on you for no discernible reason. @manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to note that Karkat poking Terezi's tears is the same sprite (and same 'poooke'!) as Karkat poking Sollux's burnt-out eyesockets. ~LOSS (12/6/24)

My man just likes poking.

@alicesoinions asked: not much to say just wanted to say I really enjoy your liveblog!!

Glad you're enjoying!

I've actually got a few new followers recently. Maybe I'm showing up in people's recommendations?

@heliotropopause asked: Dream bubbles are pretty neat, eh? Neat enough to inspire half of HtN, I'd bet.

…wait.

Oh my god, you're right. It's literally a River Bubble. They're both located in afterlives, for crying out loud!

Anonymous asked: Wanted to thank your liveblog for reminding me of a lot that I had flat out missed in canon, due to not putting it together or just reading too quickly. Most recently and notably on my mind right now, is that Feferi is the one who set up the dreambubbles!!! I had always thought that they were just a part of the world that readers didn’t know about yet, like how we weren’t yet introduced to Alternia and it’s moons until act 5. This went right over my head and it has me absolutely REELING (fishing pun included just for fef!!)

Feferi truly is the MVP.

I wonder what happened to dead Players before the Bubbles?

They're certainly not the only type of afterlife in the multiverse. Alternia has at least two types of undead, which implies that the Players are very, very lucky to have retained their personhood postmortem. Imagine this was what Feferi looked like in Jade's dream.

Anonymous asked: Knowing sollux, he probably already had coded his tech to recognize if his speech ever changed, and gave himself a different typing quirk for it, long ago. Not because he knew or thought it would happen, but because he thought it would be a fun coding project ((I know nothing about coding))

And yet, you somehow know exactly how we think.

Anonymous asked: Something I hadn’t really thought about, until I started reading this liveblog, is how much VRISKA ((autocorrect decided to caps that and I’m leaving it in lol)) was manipul8ted into a lot of her violence. Scratch pushed her towards vengeance against Aradia, and she didn’t want to go through with it. Did VRISKA ever tell anyone how much of her live she spent resisting these forces, or even really acknowledge it? She didn’t hide Spidermom, and arguably her need to kill other trolls was to prevent herself from being killed. BUT on the other hand, VRISKA voice would make it sound like a compliment “I almost didn’t kill you why don’t you appreciate me!!!!!!!!”

The thing is, VRISKA probably felt a lot of social pressure not to tell people she was coerced into her crimes. That would reveal that she was reluctant to kill, which is the opposite of what the Empire wants.

@manorinthewoods asked: You could have written a great Homestuck if you'd been Hussie. I think your style, if translated from reacting-to-comic to making-comic, would work great with what Homestuck is, and could have made a better product. I think you'd make a cerebral Homestuck, which would have been cool to read, except I would have botched reading it like I botched reading Homestuck in our Alpha Timeline. ~LOSS (11/6/24)

Thank you! I've tried to write before, actually, but whenever I reread my stories, they come off as esoteric, stilted and a little hard to follow. It's not an insurmountable problem, of course, and I really need to take a writing workshop at some point.

I'd love to make a webcomic, too, but my art also leaves a lot to be desired. I can adapt sprites just fine, but original drawings are hard, guys. Did anyone else know about this?

Anonymous asked: i counted just now, and only like 24 out of all 54 paradox space comics have zero spoilers. some of them are certainly more substantial than others (e.g. i counted ones that include jade’s consorts that you havent seen yet as spoilers) but a lot of them have Very Big Spoilers

It would have been awfully messy. I'm probably just going to read it once I've reached the Gigapause of 2013, and no longer need to worry about spoilers.

@bladekindeyewear asked: “Nepeta wasn't trying to pacify Equius, nor did she seem to be fulfilling any rigidly defined 'role' in his life. They just came off as very good friends, and their relationship was much better for it.” Well, maybe we ought to look at it through the lens of real relationships between friends? Once a healthy dynamic and boundaries are established, perhaps Moirails stabilize as long as they’re together.

That's a good way to interpret moirallegence - although, it does raise an issue with the quadrant that I'll be discussing on its own post, once I've finished the comp. There's no point in prehashing what I'm about to say, so I'll see you there!

Anonymous asked: karkats message didn't go through because of trollians narrative awareness feature, where it'll display something different in service of one of the several "all"-seeing entities, of which the reader is one <3 watsonian and doylist explanations are kissing with tongue

Since the fourth wall is an actual, physical piece of technology in this world, this isn't even that far-fetched!

@sashonya asked: So, as the session's timers continues to count down, what do you think will happen after The Scratch?

Beyond 'the session ends', it's difficult to say for sure. I think the two most likely possibilities are that the kids start exploring other sessions, or travel to a location completely outside the current scope of the comic. I am, of course, hoping for both.

@ericvilas asked: "I still believe that out of all the trolls, Karkat’s traits were featured the most prominently in humanity" yeah, I guess even humans aren't free from the effects of carcinization

CG: THERE IS ONLY ONE STEP. CG: AND IT IS ME.

[spectrum-core]

hi if you don’t mind me asking I’d love to hear more about serrated duo parallels?

Alright, just to make sure we are on the same page because I'm not sure if many people know who am I even talking about when I say serrated duo, I mean this pair of goofballs who I love very much.

Fuckass essay about them and how this thing even came to be (which is not what you asked for but it's still important I think) under the cut, as a warning though this is EXTREMELY long, i'm also writing it assuming the readers have played ruina to completion, have at least glanced at the ruina artbook once and are decently familiarized with the pjm universe and its terminology.

"But Spec", you may (and reasonably so) say, "these guys show up in different story tiers, one is a glorified ranged attack tutorial with a minor lore exposition attached to him and the other doesn't even have anything going on due to being a general reception, what the hell".

So let's get into this, more meticulously organized than some essays I've submitted for my uni classes because I care that much about these guys (don't be like me and do your uni projects, please).

Table of contents:

How the fuck did this even come to be 1.1. Me yapping about character dessign

Liwei as a character 2.1. The surface 2.2. Emotional internal nature 2.3. Resentment

Dong Hwan as a character (sorry can't separate him into many categories bc there's NOTHING THERE man i'm absolutely grasping for straws here i KNOW it, but please bear with me)

Summarizing parallels

If you don't feel like sitting through my attempts to contextualize how this ship came to be and me desperately grasping for straws, feel free to skip all the way down to part 4

1.- How the fuck did this even come to be

Honestly the whole thing started as a sleep deprivation shitpost I rolled with because yeah i like these two guys a lot (if you read that one post talking among other things about why I like liwei so much in the first place, the short reply also applies to dong hwan and... Yeag, the only thing that's better than one hot guy is two hot guys and so on).

There was also an interesting aspect about this because maybe it's just me but based of liwei's dialogue lines and keypage text he suggests not trusting, or even liking/admiring/looking up to, high graded fixers (despite feeling that he's supposed to). With an emphasis put into colors because, I mean, he fucking died because he met one at the wrong moment, but I feel it's a general thing he feels for grade 2s and above.

With this in mind, putting him to interact with a grade 1 is... at the very least it has the potential to put them into a funny mutual vitriol kind of dynamic with lw constantly thinking "what's the deal with this guy? does he expect me to praise him just for having a high grade? well, tough luck, i'm no bootlicker" and dh constantly thinking "what's wrong with this man? is he unable to recognize greatness even if it punched him in the face...? should i punch him in the face?", but it becomes far more interesting when you try to imagine (and, with dong hwan being an absolute background character we can only assume things of from extremely vague hints, pretty much all we can do about him is imagining) what made them both special enough for each of them to think "wait, hold on, i actually like this guy" of the other.

After the initial shitpost stage was over, we (the guy who came up with serrated duo while sleep deprived and me) started talking about why we liked both characters and we essentially concluded that, at least dessign wise, they are the same type of guy (ofc I also added a couple of characters I like and who fit the criteria to my post but this post isn't about them).

1.1.- Me yapping about character dessign

On top of that, if you pay attention specifically to liwei and dong hwan in there, you can notice that there's a pretty neat balance of common and contrasting themes in their dessigns, almost in a two sides of the same coin way, so here's a non exhaustive list:

both characters have a primarily monochrome/dark aesthetic going on, with their eyes being the primary colored element that stands out in their dessigns (yeah, you could say that dh has brown hair too but it's a dark shade of brown that doesn't catch the eye nearly as much as the bright-yet-deep shade of red of his eyes)

on top of that, liwei's eyes are blue while dong hwan's are red (i thought they were reddish brown at first but that's just an effect of the transparency, if you separate the sprite in it's different parts, you'll notice his eyes are actually red), which happens to link with a certain trope about two-sides-of-the-same-coin pairs... (will elaborate on this later trust me).

despite the previously mentioned similar monochrome aesthetic, there's a clear contrast between their styles and how they wear their clothes, with liwei having a much more "only informal if it's more practical that way" type of look, with a focus on practicality over trying to stand out too much (for the most part at least, he was dessigned with the idea of a cool guy in mind after all), while dong hwan is essentially wearing a business suit in the most fucked up way possible (really, what the fuck dong hwan), which of course makes his dessign incredibly memorable. To further elaborate on this (and to add details that don't really follow this formal until unpractical/informal AND unpractical pattern): -Liwei's clothes stay in similar shades of grey and black giving him a more uniform look, while dong hwan uses more contrasting shades in his clothing (despite wearing primarily black clothes, that light grey shirt absolutely stands out, and by extension he does) -Liwei wears long boots, while dong hwan wears regular shoes -Liwei wears a long coat, while dong hwan wears a short jacket -Liwei has a fully buttoned dress shirt with a tie, dong hwan wears his shirt unbuttoned, in an universe where clothes are basically like armor this is essentially him saying that he's confident that his opponents won't be able to hit him in the chest, or that even if they did he wouldn't get too hurt from it, and it's a dessign detail that absolutely stands out in an universe where most characters only show skin in their head, neck and hands at most, as we know since its stated in multiple keypages and cutscenes, if a character shows more skin than the absolutely bare minimum, then that means that A. they are inmensely strong, and B. they are even more confident in their capacities, with this being a tactic to intimidate potential enemies for many factions -Liwei wears fingerless gloves while dong hwan wears regular gloves, while at first glance this detail seems to subvert the pattern, let's be real here... have you tried to hold any object and using it properly with gloves? unless you're wearing latex gloves or something made of very thin fabric that shit's absurdly hard, of course i assume there's weird city tech involved in dh's gloves but at least that's my own personal impression of that particular contrast)

and going back to common but not really details: both characters have something noteworthy in their ears (this is most likely just a result of the characters being visible as chibis in game so the best way to give them memorable dessigns is by slapping somewhat unique stuff in their faces and heads BUT IM GRASPING FOR STRAWS HERE OK) with liwei's earpiece (which serves a practical function) and dong hwan's earrings (which look cool as hell, going in line with both characters' general priorities)

similarly, both have something in their opposite eyes, with liwei partially covering his right eye with his hair and dong hwan having the scar going through his left eye.

the right-left motif is actually very relevant in their dessigns. You see, most character sprites in ruina switch the hand in which they're holding their weapons for certain frames (or at least, this is not uncommon to see), either for rule of cool, clearer silhouettes or whatever reasons. However, in every frame in which liwei is visibly holding his knife, he holds it with his left hand (and when he uses his pistol he holds it with both hands), suggesting that he may be left handed. On the other hand (see what I did there?), dong hwan consistently holds his knife with his right hand, in every. single. frame. of his sprite, suggesting that he's right handed instead.

And of course, both of them have elements in their opposite legs too, with liwei having these two stupid fucking belts (affectionate) in his right leg while dong hwan has... whatever the fuck that thing is, in his left leg.

Of course I'm not here saying that they were given contrasting dessigns on purpose, but all these details end up making both of them looking really cool when put together, specially with how their dessigns emphatize their personal preferences and priorities, something I will elaborate upon in each character's section later.

2.- Liwei as a character

Liwei is one of my favorite pjm characters as a whole, yes i like him more than ayin, yes i like him more than angela, yes i like him more than carmen, yes i like him more than dante, yes i like him more than your favorite sephirah/patron librarian/sinner, no im not saying i think any of these characters is bad or poorly written and in fact i think pjm has made an amazing job with protagonists so far catching my interest even with characters i thought i wouldn't vibe with at all, but i have a thing for unremarkable background guys.

As you may have guessed, this means that i have a lot, and i mean A LOT to say about him.

This also means that I have a very specific interpretation of him, this interpretation, while clearly taking bases from what we can see of him in game, is entirely fanmade and i'm not trying to claim this is what anyone intended to convey with him, but it's what makes sense for me.

This interpretation also strays away from some other fan characterizations I've seen of him. So if you think he's actually, at his core, a serious, formal, emotionally detached and unbearably professional, even outside work hours, guy who's deeply dedicated to the honorable task of murder and who is in good terms with the shi association or holds them in high regard? sorry, but for me he's nothing like that.

2.1- The surface

"But Spec", you may say again, "he does act emotionally detached during his cutscene, he even says that people die all the time! are you sure you are actually reading this character right?"

Of course I'm not, I'm just saying that I'm reading him in a way that makes enough sense to me, but I do have reasons to believe that the serious and emotionally detached attitude is an akward mixture of a facade he puts up to be taken seriously by others and an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, so let's start by analyzing his artbook profile...

Wait a minute, is that..?

Ok, I'll see myself out and continue writing the actual character analysis this is what people are here for.

Anyway, going back to the character profile, you may be inclined to see it and assume "well, that actually just proves that he's a serious and formal dude" at first, until you realize that artbook profiles, due to their in-universe explaination being that they were compilled by roland and angela from the information they could take out of the guests' books, are most likely to be about what the guests perceive themselves as/would say to describe themselves rather than what they actually are when looked at from an outsider's perspective. Further proof of the artbook profiles being subjective comes from how the profiles change almost erratically for distortions and ego users, with people in the middle of both states simply not knowing how to describe themselves, the fact that we lack any information about the agents of the head as they were never booked, or how characters such as tomerry have...

This, which I mean, it's very clear that's just tomerry talking about themselves.

Now, liwei's personality traits, or at least what he'd use to describe himself, are "Meticulous, Efficient, and Sharp". We know that he has to be efficient at the very least, considering the nature of his job and guns in universe, the same thing goes for meticulous, we can assume he wants to do things the right away so that he gets paid, sharp as a personality descriptor can take multiple meanings and frankly i don't know which was the original korean word used to describe him so i can't tell which is the right one but most of them seem pretty accurate, at least when looking at him from a surface perspective.

To be honest, I don't think any of the traits mentioned there is precisely wrong, I simply don't think that they are the main or core ones, but they are the traits liwei tries to show, at least.

Another interesting detail is that all full stop fixer artbook profiles have food related items for the likes and and dislikes sections, except for stephan disliking dangerous jobs.

Not particularly noteworthy for this category in particular but still tangentially linked to a point that I believe is also a core characteristic of all three full stop fixers and that is key to understand all three of them, their dynamics and the choices they make during their reception: they are Poor As Shit, because guns and bullets are expensive of course, we also get to see this in stephan's obssesive fixation in money (come on nobody actually checks their bank account as a hobby... right, guys?), and of course this ties in with wanting to be seen as someone serious and professional people will trust with their money AND with the idea of them having the need to maximize efficiency to... well... you... you know... not end up even worse than they actually are.

2.2- Emotional internal nature

Alright, and here we dwell into the actually spicy part of the essay, at least for liwei's character: the moments in which the mask of a professional and emotionally detached guy cracks and he shows his more emotional, and mostly caring, side. This is focused in the way in which he treats stephan and tamaki (compared with how several other faction leaders treat their underlings).

While I should probably need to read all the dialogue in the game to make sure this is a particularly notorious detail, something that inmediately caught my attention is... the fact that liwei never uses a single honorific when refering to other people, neither he's bothered by stephan's more informal speech and the fact that he doesn't refer to him by any honorific or title either (sure, you could say this is because they were in a life or death situation but also y'know, it says something about you that the people below you don't feel the need to use formalities when talking to you), the only person he calls by title instead of first name is... well, the blue reverb, whose real name we can assume he didn't know, with also him being someone perfectly capable of killing not only him but the guys standing beside him as well, you'd want to be as respectful as possible when talking to a guy like that and trying to negotiate.

(even then he doesnt use any sort of honorific towards him, at least in the english translation of the text, he simply refers to him by title)

He neither uses any title or honorific when talking to angela, despite keeping a formal/respectful attitude, i honestly believe that he is genuinely formal and respectful but... you know, that's not the beginning and end of who he is.

Of course, this isn't a major point, but I think it's worth mentioning considering how important honorifics can be to establish the speaker's relationship with the people a message is directed to, they can be used to distance oneself from others. So in a way it could be seen as him putting himself at an "equal" position relative to stephan and tamaki, as opposed to trying to assert that he's their superior (at least in the context of the mission they were working in, since his title is merely fixer, not operator, president, director or anything implying some form of leadership on his end).

Another extremely important detail is his inmediate first reaction once argalia shows up and ruins their plan is... not coming up with a plan b, not trying to fight him in any way, not doing anything about trying to save what little money they can, he quite literally tells stephan "forget about money, we need to survive now".

His initial reaction is directly just yelling at his team to run away, and this stays consistent once he:

Notices that stephan and tamaki are beginning to argue over the future of their mission and how much money they lost.

Realizes that they can't outrun argalia as long as they're wielding their heavy (and again, extremely expensive) equipment. This says a lot as it shows that he cares enough for the people under his care to let the office go bankrupt if it means they can live.

Needless to say, stephan and tamaki refuse to do so and while he clearly isn't precisely happy about the inevitable confrontation with argalia, he doesn't argue about this, he does understand their concern about money, he's not like the other authority figures who will ignore their underlings' concerns at best and ditch them once they outlive their usefulness at worst (at least, that's what i imagine he thinks as he makes these choices).

Not to mention, once they are in a, if only slightly, safer situation in the library, his inmediate response is trying to comfort stephan and tamaki, things dont look good but theyre at least alive, for now.

And there's this line which... doesn't seem to fit at first glance with the idea of him wanting his office to survive at all costs... right?

That is until you realize that he says that line during yet another argument between stephan and tamaki, as an attempt to get them both to calm down, this could also fit in with him trying to keep or restore the cynical, stoic and serious act, but then again we get to see his more emotional and sincere side once he:

Gets killed, quite literally saying that he didn't want to die yet, at least to me this line alone is enough to pretty much confirm that he didn't really mean it when saying that trying to delay their deaths was pointless, but if you need more, he also acts against that same line when he...

Sees his allies die, and inmediately starts freaking out.

Wins the reception, in which case his inmediate first concern is, again, not money, lost ammunition or anything, but rather if stephan and tamaki are okay and if they will be safe once they return.

I don't think that line was him fully lying though, it does say something about him that makes enough sense to me and fits with the rest of the characterization: that his cynism runs much, much deeper than stephan's.

Tl;dr he is extremely caring and emotional deep inside, and even though he tries to suppress that side of himself it always finds a way to show itself, I feel like in other contexts this makes him prone to emotional outbursts and generally make him an unpleasant person to be around... save for people who are already familiar with his personality quirks and the fact that he is Like That.

2.3- Resentment

Of course, this dissonance between the person he tries to pretend to be to fit in/keep his job and the person he actually is made him grow a pretty strong disliking of... well, everything he considers related to the fact that he has to act like that to get enough money to feed the people in his office.

I also feel like he feels genuine guilt over the fact that his job is essentially just glorified murder, I have no base for this other than the more detached way in which he refers to the church of gears, it almost feels like hes forcing himself to not care because its them or him and his office, and that he has genuine self-hating tendencies because of it (which he also uses his stoic act to hide, he doesn't want to worry his office and become a burden to them, after all), in a way he may be trying to overcompensate by being nice to his office to feel like there's people he can help/protect.

But this hatred towards himself also manifests in the form of hatred towards anything he can blame over him being the way he is and working the job he has.

As I said before, I don't think liwei likes colors, or most high grade fixers for that matter, you may also extend this to figures of authority, influential organizations or even the city's society as a whole (and honestly? i do personally, i don't think he's actually capable of forming any particularly healthy bond with people outside his office because of this, and even then saying that the relationships he has with his office are healthy is... generous to put it softly, this is not to say that he secretly hates the other people in the office, but rather that he fears that they may secretly hate him, because he's the highest graded member of the office, he hates people sitting above him so it only makes sense that people below him hate him for being above them, right?), and of course I'm not saying this because I'm projecting or because I think it's cool and edgy and sad but I actually have bases for this from what I can see in the game.

The first example of him not trusting high grade fixers AND influential organizations being one of the very first things he says when being introduced: that having an important person, from an important organization, belonging to an important section of said organization, approach him and give him a request was shady as fuck.

And he turned out to be right, as Yujin was planning for him and his office to get sent to the library and die there so she could read their books and find some passage saying shit like "well we were found by the blue fucking reverb and our only choice was to come here and die even though we were royally fucked either way life sucks see you all in hell my final message 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕" so she could use that on her favor.

In this topic too, I'm personally firmly opposed to the idea of full-stop office being affiliated to the shi association and this is the hill i'm willing to die on, but I digress.

We see this same resentment on an even deeper level in his keypage where he talks about colors (and we can assume this view extends to other high graded fixers, and to a lesser extent to the hana association), he doesn't sound like he wants to become a color, he doesn't sound like he even likes the concept of colors being a thing that exists in the first place.

The most important lines from these fragments to me being the following:

"A color is the dream [...] of all fixers who wish for freedom.", freedom is a VERY relevant concept in project moon and ruina makes a very clear point about how nobody is free in the city, roland says it, most plot relevant guests say it, some patron librarians say it too... a huge part of the story is how angela comes to terms to the fact that turning human wont grant her freedom and how she ultimately becomes free by embracing her nature as a machine (so free indeed that the head decides to kick her and the entire library out of the city, not only shes a machine that acts like a human, which is already a major city wide taboo, she made a choice that no human in the city should ever make). Essentially, liwei seems to see colors (and im assuming that by extension high graded fixers) as the ultimate example of an impossible aspirational class (think of these "self made" enterpreurs who received extremely generous financial support from their rich parents to start massive companies as the closest irl equivalent, except that obviously not the same, i will elaborate more on this later).

"They put forward the colors as great and successful people that other fixers will look up to. They dream of earning wealth and fame, and to be free like them one day." Why would he be talking in third person here if he too admired colors, or wanted to be like them, or thought that were free in any way? Also that separation between money and fame (something that colors objectively do have since they can afford exclusive high tech weapons and armor) with freedom (something that is debatable, but liwei seems to assume colors don't have) feels too much like a deliberate choice to further push towards that point of him seeing colors as not only an impossible goal to achieve for the average fixer but also that the ideal of a color as someone who is free is something impossible to achieve even if one were to become a color.

"Colors are assigned by the 'Hana Association'. [...] The title of a color is forcibly given to fixers who qualify essentially. Can a fixer be truly happy with freedom that was forcefully handed to them?" This particular fragment, specially the last sentence, is absolutely key for Liwei's characterization, and the final and most important part of him saying "wait, no, colors aren't free, because nobody is" to me. It is also worth noting that this fragment can be read in multiple ways, all of them are important and accurate for his characterization.

He thinks that the responsability and risks that come with being handed the title of a color are far greater than the prestige that comes with the title, can you really say that someone who cant afford to decline requests due to being contacted by the most important organizations in the city, whose closest friends or family WILL be regularly targetted by rivals either to extort them for money or just try to attack them to the point in which most high graded fixers abandon any personal attachment to others, who will have to see the horrible things that happen in the city in an almost day-to-day basis and will likely have to do even worse things in the name of corporate interests is free? Can you really call it freedom if you can't refuse it? Essentially he is saying "actually every single aspect of being a color is terrible and to make matters worse that life is forced on them after they go through extreme miseries in the hopes for a better life but all they get is more of the same if not even worse, they aren't free and shouldn't be refered to as such."

He thinks that in order to become a color (or any highly graded fixer, really), you must essentially lose yourself, which is to say abandoning all friendships or familiar bonds, only keeping shallow interactions with people, desensitizing themselves to whatever horrifying shit they may have to see, abandon all sense of morality as they never know what their next request will be and "im sorry but i dont do xyz, it does against my personal morals" isnt an argument that will work in a place like the city, this also fits into the whole "actually having a much more chaotic emotional side he's trying his absolute hardest to supress but failing" theme mentioned in point 2.2., someone who is so deeply emotional and whose actions are ultimately defined by what is the most likely to keep the people around him alive is obviously not going to like the idea of keeping his distance to them, or to dispose of people with lower grades than him because they were supposed to be expendables anyway.

I don't remember the exact quote and i dont feel like looking for it but in one of gebura's cutscene she claims that all power in the city only serves to strike those below but never up. You have to climb to get stronger and then you'll only be able to assert dominance (through violence) over people weaker than you are, and she grew to dislike this, as she wanted to protect others but was never able to do so because of how the city was dessigned.

Of course, liwei reached the same conclusion but he took the much simpler but much more unhealthy approach of assuming "well, if things are like that, then that must mean that everyone in a position of power (over me) must be responsible for this".

Of course this also comes with the side effect of him being as caring for the rest of the office as he can because he doesn't want to be like other figures of authority as i mentioned in point 2.2, but thats not to mean that things are all fine in the office, i feel like there are several moments in which he internally curses his position of authority but not quite (bc i don't think he's actually The Big Guy In Charge of the office, really), most obviously the aforementioned moment in which he yells at tamaki and stephan to drop their guns so they can run away and live when they clearly dont want to, i feel like at moments like that he feels like they only do things because he tells them to and they "can't argue" (except that they do, fortunately for him the enviroment in the office is healthy enough for the rest of full stops to not abuse this fact, but the "what if"s are absolutely eating him from the inside). As ironic as it sounds his earnest desire to not be Like The Others is the same thing stopping him from being the perfect and efficient leader he wishes to be, and he probably isn't sure of which thing he values more than the other (it's staying true to his own morals and keeping the people under him safe).

However, there's a key detail here that's worth noting: liwei has a tendency to treat everyone else as equals, sure he is formal and respectful when doing so (pressumably even when talking to people he'd rather never interact with if we assume his conversation with argalia was actually how he is and not him just walking on eggshells to not get killed) but he doesn't bother trying to make a clear distinction of who is above and below him, no matter what their title and rank may be, and for people who are used to being looked up to by everyone else this will be seen this as him insulting them in some way, it may come from a sincere desire of him to come off as insulting while not breaking any (major) social convention in an act of malicious compliance or just the type of person he is, that's up to you to determine.

"But how the hell does any of this relate to dong hwan?" we'll get there right now.

3.- Dong Hwan as a character

This is kinda... the hardest point to talk about, because sure I can yap all I want about him but... it's hard to without going "Source: I made it up" too much.

So, looking at his combat sprites you may notice one thing: he is unbelievably hot for real what the hell he has an incredibly smug aura, most people who care about him to some extent i've seen tend to depict him as a very prideful person, and honestly i dont think differently either.

HOWEVER, i feel like despite this he's still a levelheaded guy who can aknowledge his own flaws. On top of that, i think he's a pretty charismatic guy and he's capable of noticing other people's strenghts, and he'll let people know about their own strenghts too.

Also, to contrast with his smug and cheerful exterior, his combat lines depict him as someone very serious when at work, he doesn't even react emotionally to getting killed.

His first "on kill" line is also particularly interesting, as it shows that he prefers to work on his own (unlike everyone's favorite monochrome moody boy), which makes sense considering that he comes alone to the library when you fight him, he may belong to a one-man office (which is the closest a fixer can do to be fully independent, as far as we are aware).

His keypage story also fits this more serious and analytical personality but not much of it is particularly noteworthy from a character analysis perspective, it doesn't say much that you couldn't notice from his combat lines anyway.

Another important factor to me and to contrast him to liwei is... okay, this may be the fact that he's a solo fight and he is, pressumably, an independent fixer, so he's not titled as a member of a particular organization, instead his title (for him, his reception, his keypage and his book) is "dong hwan, the grade 1 fixer", which i mean, again, is most likely just so we dont fight this guy with zero context on who he is and what hes even doing in the library in his own is he stupid? but i like to imagine that the in universe explaination is that he has tied his perception of himself and his own self worth to his grade, to the point in which using both his name and grade is what comes naturally to him when introducing himself, since books are essentially physical manifestations of the soul, then it just makes sense then that his book will give both his name and grade the same importance. This may come from a need to compensate for something else and i actually like to imagine that's the case because it adds yet another layer of parallels with liwei (source: trust me).

Another point is... remember that I mentioned how food was a very consistent thing in the full stops' likes and dislikes sections in the artbook? this point is also not relevant but dong hwan is frequently assumed to be the owner of that pub that shows up at that short side story about roland and angelica which i never watched because i Literally Can Not Care about angelica sorry, but, hey, it's a cute detail, i think he should cook for the full stops.

I feel like there's something to be said about dh's red eyes because in pjm when a character has red eyes you know that means one thing: they will be a big deal, but dong hwan, other than looking incredibly fucking cool and carrying me through the snow queen suppression (FUCK THE SNOW QUEEN ALL MY HOMIES HATE SNOW QUEEN) and star of the city tier 1 (thank you dong hwan i love you dong hwan)… he is rather unremarkable on the grand scheme of things, he's a general reception so you don't even need to defeat him to beat the game, and he only serves to give us some insight on who the fuck was the vermillion cross, and even then he does a terrible job at explaining who he was other than "well, he was a guy i guess" and honestly, the relevance of both liwei and dong hwan is ALSO an important factor in these parallels, as with one being the guy who introduces the concept of colors and the other being the guy who introduces one particular color fixer by casually mentioning being friends with him, both feel like characters who would be much more narratively important in any other story, but here they... aren't.

4.- Summarizing Parallels

Aka the part you may want to skip to if you don't care about me analyzing characters with little background info about them.

So, basically a list of personality (and background, i guess) traits they have in common and how they're different:

Both characters are putting some sort of facade, with liwei trying to act serious and stoic so he's taken seriously while dong hwan... i dont think he even knows what the facade he's putting even is, he's been putting an act for so long that his mask became his true self

In both characters' cases, the first impression they give isn't really the kind of person they truly are (in lw's case this is a deliberate choice and in dh's case i assume that's just the type of person he is), HOWEVER, while liwei acts serious and analytical (and to some extent he is), his true self is far more emotional and prone to form deep bonds with people, while dong hwan has a more passionate, smug and cheerful external attitude but he's much more serious and levelheaded deep down

Both characters have different, conflicting views about their grades, however these differences ultimately lead to both of them being able to treat each other as equals, or as close to that as possible in the city, i feel like liwei can see dong hwan as someone of worth so to speak for reasons unrelated to his grade, while dong hwan does see liwei as a good person (well, good is a subjective term specially in a place like the city) and far better at teamwork than most people in the city, in a way both value something in the other that the other never stopped to consider "hey this is actually a good thing i have"

Both characters are (pressumably?) trying to compensate over something, with liwei putting his professional and formal act to compensate for his sentimental self while dong hwan puts a strong emphasis on his high grade for... who knows, really, i just like this parallel being there because i think it adds a lot

Both have problems forming relationships, with liwei being a generally unpleasant person but being capable of forming deep, meaningful relationships with the people capable of seeing through it, while dong hwan is a charismatic guy liked by almost everyone he's met, but whose relationships tend to be shallow

Not really a personality thing but both characters have a thing for being remarkably unremarkable guys, dong hwan is obviously forgotten by most ruina playes because he's a general reception and the biggest impression liwei leaves in most players is "OH SHIT HE HAS A GUN", even though both are pretty intentionally dessigned with the intention of making them look cool however ive very rarely come across full stop or liwei fans (by which i mean people who like them particularly instead of "actually the entire pjm cast is cool and that includes them) and dong hwan fans are.... yeah, i think ive met like, 4 of them at most (thanks guys i owe you my life)

Something about their combat styles including their passives, liwei's only visible passive is called Concentration and gives him extra strenght for the first turn of a fight, after which he relies in the fact that his attacks weaken the enemy, so he comes off as the sort of guy who prefers to keep his distance and figure out the opponent's weak spot(s) (something he canonically is good at doing) to keep an upper hand at combat, however despite this he's still lacking in both strenght and technique, being only a grade 4 (which i mean let's be real the grades go from 9 to 1 and i feel like a majority of fixers are in the lower grades so he's still pretty much above average but he isnt doing all the cool shit you see the stronger characters do, because that's not the kind of character he is). On the other hand dong hwan's passives have much more cooler sounding names (Fervor, Carver of Scars, Toughness...), all of them focused on either inflicting bleed (status ailment that gradually makes the opponent lose hp)/buffing him against enemies with bleed or buffing him as he gains emotion levels, and his focus is just inflicting bleed like crazy, as well as delivering harder blows against people with bleed, prioritizing raw damage over strategy (but likely being able to figure out an opponent's weaknesses as well, brute strenght alone are most likely not enough to get you far in a world where the powerful people are INSANELY strong bc physical enhancements are commonplace)

I feel like in a way both admire each other, liwei admires dong hwan's capacity to keep a cool head at all times when at work and not letting his feelings have too much weight over his desicions, but dong hwan admires how honest liwei is about himself as well as his capacity to work in a team taking in consideration what will be best for the team as a whole even if it's perjudicial for him in particular.

In Conclusion

Your honor, two of them

[xxchthonicreaturexx]

Hey I heard you write dark themes so I was wondering if you could write what would the Greasers (Tim & Curly too) be if they found out there partner used to/still SH. You don't have to and that's completely fine I just never seen one and I think that's a topic I would like to see someone else's opinion on. :)

No problem at all :) I too want some darker themes in the fandom lol

ALSO to anyone struggling with this; You aren't alone <3 as someone that has too struggled with sh, you're more than welcome here.

Ahhh- why is Tim's so much longer than everyone else's 😭🙏 anyways normal headcannons might not be as long as this fie the characters, but I do feel strongly about mental health and stuff like this, so that's why there's kinda more detail than just a bullet pointed list.

Trigger Warning: S3lf harm/ scãrring.

TIM SHEPARD

Well, starting off, I feel like Tim would be the best with finding out out of all of the boys? Would he be slightly upset though? Absolutely.

If you watch the series you'll see that though Tim can be a royal asshole and kinda cocky, he actually is pretty wise and cares about others. When finding out his s/o self harmed, however, I feel like he'd be kinda quiet.

The night could be going by like normal, he and Curly fight a bit, s/o is helping do dishes after their crappy "family dinner". S/o's sleeves get pushed a little too far up while rinsing off some dishes, or maybe he's visiting you at work and he sees the pant leg of your pants move up a little too far while you're rushing to grab something from the other side of the building. Whatever it is, he won't immediately say anything.

I feel Tim will let it fester. Not enough to where he's avoiding it, but kinda like- if he sees it once, he wants to try and see it again, or mention it to see how you'd react before outright asking you. Remember, Tim isn't the softest guy either, but he's trying.

When asking you about it, it's probably at night. Curly and Angela are either out at a friend's or in their own rooms and you and Tim are probably on the couch for your sacred nightly cuddle session. His arm is around your shoulders and suddenly he couldn't care less about the stupid black and white tv.

"Listen, babydoll." he'd start, shifting so your bodies were facing each other and you were looking at him instead of the screen.

"I don't cry. Haven't since I was real young. I don't cry but I found other ways to cope with when times are hard. There's a difference between good and bad coping though, you got that?" He'd ask you, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles, something he'd rarely do, but nevertheless it was comforting.

"I know that line can be blurry sometimes, but you're not alone, yeah?" He never outright told you how he knew, or outright asked you to stop, but even if Tim's a cocky asshole, he's very attentive to his s/o. If something seems remotely wrong or if he sees any new marks he's sure to give his partner his own way of comforting them.

Curly Shepard

Ahhhh Curly. He's so alike Tim, and yet so different at the same time. Where Tim doesn't outright confront you and casually just tells you that he's there, Curly is not as shy about it.

Honestly, I could see his dumbass being like "Hey, where'd you get those cool scars, baby?" And just cue him waiting for some entertaining story while you facepalm.

Though, yes, he most definitely would say something dumb like that, he's also not entirely oblivious. If your scars were in a mess common area or weren't somehow a pattern, he'd ask where they came from, but if for example you had a row of scars on your wrist or arms, and it was much more obvious than the sneaky ones, he's would catch on.

Unlike his brother, Curly would probably grab your wrist the first time he saw them. Grab your arm, rug your sleeve up and clench his jaw as he tried to find the right words. He's pissed. Not at you, but who or whatever made you feel like you had to do this. He'll curse a few times and probably ask you who made you do it. He'd be an angry little whiney boy for a while but after cooling off he'd probably coddle you. Cuddles and soft affirmations, hair stroking and the softest neck and shoulder kisses you've ever felt.

Despite wanting to look just as tough and badass as his brother and Dally, I could also see him as the type of person to ask if he can doodle over the scars. Cute little pastime of his, as also his way to show you that even if you have scars, he still finds them valuable.

If you or anyone mentions it though, he'll throw a huge fit. 🙄

Darry Curtis

HA. You think he's not going to yell at you? Oh no, sweetie, he's yelling. He may not yell at you as much as he does the boys, but he's yelling. The moment there's tears though, he's tearing himself apart.

It truly is out of concern though. This dude has lost so much already and is constantly reminded that he could lose his brothers at any moment if one of them does something too reckless, but now add into the mix you? It breaks Darry's heart. He can't stand the thought of losing you, and ESPECIALLY doesnt want to imagine what happened to make you so sad that you'd turn to a blade, or to whatever you used.

His strong hands would no longer gently rub your sides anymore while cuddling in his chair, but rather, they'd trace over your scars mindlessly as he read the paper. After the yelling, he'd basically get down into his knees for you to not harm yourself anymore. He's apologizing profusely for his volume and harshness, but at the same time he's hoping you understood just how important the topic was to him while doing so.

He's not the best with emotions. Much better at them then Tim or Dallas, but he's more awkward with them. He'll hold you if you cry though, and will make sure to check up on you much more often. Expect more late night sentimental chats and slow dancing to Elvis while everyone else is sleeping.

Sodapop Curtis.

Well...Soda is pretty good at keeping his real emotions hidden. He's the happiest greaser on the surface but in actuality he's hurting just as much as anyone else. He's no stranger to self punishment. He doesn't self harm, but he's familiar with the concept and would sometimes sabotage his relationship with girls for the sake of him not feeling good enough.

Like I said, Soda doesn't self harm physically, but he's familiar with the concept. That being said, I feel he'd be pretty upfront and open about it. He's a sensitive guy and of course he'd shed a few tears, because let's face it, he's terrified once he finds out, but he's one of the best ones in the group for a self harming s/o.

He won't make them talk about it, but he will. It could be a late night drive, or even a sleepover where Pony took the couch so s/o could sleep with loverboy. He'd graze his lips against s/o's ear as he whispered sweet nothings and would tell them stories about how he would sabotage himself for the hell of it sometimes. He'd kiss their knuckles and try not to cry as they tell them that they don't have to be alone. Hell, ESPECIALLY if s/o is the type of self harmer that's usually pretty happy on the outside.

"Angel, I don't want you to harm your beautiful skin like this, okay? If you feel the urge to hurt something take it out on me, okay? I can take it for you." You'd probably never harm Soda in any shape or form, but he still offers it because he's trying. Not always the brightest, but he's trying for you <3

Ponyboy Curtis.

I'm not even saying this to be funny, but I genuinely feel like his next creative writing assignment will be based on it. PoneMcbone here will write this beautiful little short story with just enough of a dark undertone that gets him an A, and also helps him cope with finding out.

It's cannon that writing comes naturally to Pony, and it's his escape. Once he finds out that you've self harmed, he's not sure how exactly to react. In fact, you'll probably have to mention it a few times to get a real serious talk out of him. That's not to say he doesn't care, but he's just not used to the idea. He cares, he really does, but he can be slightly insensitive.

"Why would you do it if it hurts?" Gee, thanks Pony. Great with words. Uh, yeah, he'll be a bit blunt, but he'll probably ask you some questions about it. I feel like he'd be much more interested in trying to figure out the psychology behind it and how it helps you, but in the end if it was a big problem or if he ever found new scars, he'd probably write little compliments over them. Also, with how strangely pretty his handwriting is, you've thought about getting some tattooed over the scars.

Perfect little snippets of poetry on your scars, reminding you that no matter the scar or the history that you're still beautiful and Ponyboy still loves you.

He probably reads you some of his stories while you lay with each other and makes a specific one for days particularly bad for you. Has all of this cool symbolism and shit and it's just so wholesome despite him being horrible at outright comforting you.

Steve Randle

I'm going to be so deadass right now, I kinda wanted to skip Steve. I feel like I just can't grasp his personality down enough. Like, watching the series has made me better understand these characters so much better, but I feel like Steve is one of the most... misunderstood characters? That doesn't seem like the right word but we'll go with it.

I feel like Steve would be a bit pissed off about it. He wouldn't yell, but he'd be slightly passive aggressive. He's kinda an angry dude however, the series portrays him to be more so protective and slightly territorial??? Like- I think if he saw or found out you self harmed he'd almost treat it like you're sick. Like you aren't allowed to clean or work too hard after he finds out or he's kinda pissy. He's definitely to type to rub lotion into your scars though as a way of helping you "heal". Probably is one of the very few that takes the time to research how to help. And like hell is he asking Ponyboy. Ponyboy doesn't know shit anyways-

If your friends knew I think it'd be a bit iffy with that too. If your friends made a comment about the scars or a joke he didn't find funny, you'd probably have to distract him or make it clear that you didn't mind. He's probably the most likely to carry you though as a form of comfort. Like, carrying you like a baby and rocking type shit. Might be embarrassing if anyone walked in, but low-key I feel like he'd be pretty good at that shit 👍

Two-bit Matthews

Similar to Sodapop, Two also wears a metaphorical mask. Although he's the funniest in the group and never turns down a good time, he knows the hurt. Twobit himself self harms similar to Sodapop. It's a more emotional harming than physical. He would screw something up just for some shits and giggles to make jokes and would drink away his feelings.

Honestly, I could see Two offering you some drinks instead of harming. It probably wouldn't help much and may even create an alcoholic, but he's trying. No, he's not shitfaced all the time, but he does rely on a decent buzz somedays. If he found out while he wasn't completely sober he'd probably not take it as seriously. Twobit is Twobit. He'd probably make some jokes that may be slightly insensitive but that's more so to keep himself from being upset by finding out. If he's sober however, and he finds out, he's much more gentle about it. He may still make a joke here and there while he closely examines some of your scars, but it's more so little encouraging quips and little sympathy jokes to try and get you to smile for him.

He doesn't want to see you sad, as what keeps him going is your laughter and encouragement, so if he sees you down he's definitely a bit rocky himself.

Overall, i feel like he'd try not to mention it a whole lot. If you needed it, he'd be there for comfort, but he wouldn't usually be the first to mention it. Jokes are another coping method for him most definitely, but he'd only ever joke about self harm if you did it first. Kind of his way of being reassured that it's not a sensitive topic and he's able to make light of it.

Dallas Winston

"Don't be like me, doll. You knock this shit off before it eats at you and you aren't able to walk away alive." As tough as Dally is, he's kinda emo. (I'm so sorry-)

Dally's been around. He's seen shit, he's done shit, he's been through hell and back basically. He pretends he doesn't care, but in reality he's still a hurting little boy that needs a home. When he sees the scars it's almost an immediate game changer. He somehow feels more connected to you? That's not to say go hurt yourself to get closer to him emotionally, but in a strange way it somehow comforts him too. He's not alone and you understand.

You two comfort each other. Dally's self harmed like any other and tried almost everything in the book. The moment he sees you scars though, he seems pissed. Lights a cigarette and blows the smoke in your face to purposely annoy you while he tries to calm down. He doesn't want to yell or scare you, that's not what you need, but Dally hated being sentimental and was absolutely shit at speaking about his feelings. After he smoked his stick though, he would force you to look at him by grabbing your chin.

"I'm only saying this once so pay close attention." He'd start, flicking his cigarette off to the side, "You want something to hurt, hurt me. I can take it. But if I ever catch you hurting yourself again, I'll kill you, you got that, doll?" Unlike Soda's attempt to make you feel better, Dally actually means that. He truly would rather you hurt him than yourself, but perhaps that's how you both begin to heal together.

Johnny Cade

You're sitting in the lot, hand in hand, looking at the stars. Johnny's jean jacket hung around your shoulders and you guys are talking quietly amongst yourselves. What's being said? Johnny trying not to cry and telling you he understands.

Johnny doesn't want you to self harm. No way in hell does he want that, but he's actually one of the few boys that won't ask you to stop. Rather than begging for you to stop he just hugs you and tells you he gets it. And he does. He's not as big on self harm as Dallas, but he has thought about suicide before. He's no stranger to it and makes it known that he's got you. Does he cry? A little, yeah. He cares a lot about you, but he has full faith that you'll be okay.

He'll probably ask Dally about it to be honest. Being close with Dally means Johnny knows about his issues, and who better to ask for advice than from someone who's went through it all? Dally, though not the best help, does give Johnny a few good ideas for some alternatives. Johnny would be the one to give you rubber bands for snapping on your wrist only to kiss the same spots you snap whenever you're sharing cute little moments together. He knows that it's hard to stop coping with hard things once you find a method you like to use, but he's all for trying to shift you to a healthier one.

In all, Johnny is probably the most patient one. He and Tim are only ones that are comforting and yet calm about it. They know it may take time to get out of bad habits, but they're there for it every step of the way. Unlike Tim though, Johnny is much better at talking about it and much prefers you venting at him about your issues and feelings than harming.

[angelplummie]

Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

[theirbbygirl]

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!) 

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life. 

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours).  From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults. 

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted.  Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily. 

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe. 

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night. 

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated. 

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise. 

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back. 

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry. 

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that. 

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.” 

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions. 

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens. 

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom. 

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.” 

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen. 

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone. 

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket. 

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.” 

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?” 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.” 

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode. 

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story. 

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain. 

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering. 

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to. 

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me. 

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self. 

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness. 

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern. 

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head. 

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.” 

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.” 

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?” 

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.” 

“So maybe he doesn’t then.” 

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile. 

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks. 

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept. 

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic. 

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her. 

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee. 

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do. 

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart. 

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet. 

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?” 

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.” 

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.” 

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it. 

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?” 

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own. 

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.” 

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?” 

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.” 

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked. 

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.” 

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo. 

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon. 

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to. 

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces. 

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly. 

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.” 

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.” 

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table. 

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind. 

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes. 

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment. 

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing. 

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away. 

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message. 

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes. 

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well. 

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner. 

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen. 

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?” 

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety. 

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.” 

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.” 

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.” 

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?” 

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it. 

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile. 

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat. 

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest. 

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university. 

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go. 

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other. 

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders. 

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug. 

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person. 

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say. 

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not. 

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly. 

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with. 

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home. 

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to. 

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives. 

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho. 

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!” 

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?” 

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?” 

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?” 

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door. 

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home. 

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor. 

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there. 

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer. 

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug. 

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds. 

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up. 

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.” 

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all. 

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him. 

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?” 

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?” 

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond. 

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?” 

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well. 

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.” 

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.” 

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”  

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.” 

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?” 

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?” 

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post. 

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again. 

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away. 

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin. 

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.” 

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair. 

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes. 

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time. 

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after. 

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there. 

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

[sondepoch]

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger. 

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art 

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O 

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook 

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?” 

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book 

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill? 

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue,  doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style 

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you 

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t 

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it 

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up 

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do? 

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh 

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you” 

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow -  coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

Oh

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious: 

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

[athena-simpingforanimemen]

Something to Consider

Chapter One | Sometime In 2007

Chapters| One Two Three Four Five

Synopsis| Having a special technique that hasn’t been passed down in over a 100 years, you’ve been amongst the strongest since birth but with no clan of your own to clam this technique. It causes the Clans to offer arranged marriages left and right. Overwhelmed parents turn to your aunt's clan and the Zenin’s are happy to step in, in hopes you will pass down the technique down to them.

Whole story contains themes| arranged marriage, angst, violence, death, swearing? sexual harassments(nothing crazy) and of course SMUT. 

Authors note| This is about the road to marrying Gojo, it’s gonna be long and filled with angst because I'm mean. This story starts with the reader being around 11ish. Has a little bit of manga spoilers from vol.8 because it has Toji. Hope you like it. This is written for my two whore best friends. :)

Sitting in the back of a black sedan, the rain and some random talk radio station playing softly. The sounds of the rain on the roof made you sleepy. You let out a sigh, pressing your head against the window, watching as the water droplets race. You had just gotten out of school when you heard your mothers fussing through the thick wood of the front door. Not even getting the chance to greet her, she was already on you about changing into something nice; tossing clothes around in a hurry. Your father on the other hand was calm, casually chatting with you while your mother rushed around in a tizzy.

You didn’t have the time to ask what this was about or why you needed to hurry before your mother pushed you into the car with Suzuki. Suzuki was your personal driver and bodyguard appointed by the Zenin clan. She was always so kind and patient, putting up with your snappy comments and pre-teen attitude. Even when you were being difficult she never got upset with you. You never understood why she was appointed to such a low grade job. She was incredibly strong. What was all the fuss about you and your technique anyway?

Suzuki taking you to the Zenin Estate after school was a common occurrence, usually it was for training but today it seemed more important than just that. You were your parents' prized possession because the Zenin clan convinced them of it. Your parents weren’t sorcerers but your mothers family was long ago. They possessed The Divine Panther, it hadn’t been passed down in over 100 years and by some miracle you got it. The Zenin’s took the opportunity, hoping you would pass it down into their clan but that wasn’t completely up to them. Not like they treated you like you were special. Pushing you so hard to master your technique while most of them looked down upon you. Most likely because your cursed energy was “weird” as Noaya said. Most of the youth are scared to train with you. So why train when everyone is already scared of you in the first place? The Zenin’s didn’t even fully understand your technique or so they say but they knew you were strong. Special grade strong, up there with the six eyes. “But just appearing strong isn’t the same as being strong.” Noaya would always say to you. I’m sure someone older and wiser than him told him that. Those words are far too sophisticated for a boy like him. 

“Where are we even going, Suzuki-san?” you ask, moving your head from the window. 

She looked at you through the rearview mirror as she spoke. “We are headed to the Zen’in residence, they wanted you to attend a clan meeting. Did your parents not tell you?” 

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “No, they were too busy picking out clothes and telling me how to properly greet people, like I don't know how to.”  Shifting your kimono as you grumble. “I’m not even a Zenin. Why do they want me there?” 

“I’m sure they just want to include you.” She smiled in assurance.

She wasn’t wrong, but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you got. It wasn’t that they wanted to include you in a clan meeting. The clan meeting was about you. They wanted you to marry one of theirs for the gain of power but they weren’t the only clan that wanted it. It was like a bidding war. It wasn’t really up to them, it was up to your parents in the end and the Zenin’s would do anything to sway them their way. A nice home, the best schools, private drivers. It was all just a ploy to get them to agree to an arranged marriage. 

The soft sound of the radio and the rain made the ambiance of the car relaxing, distracting you from the scenery slowly turning  into landmarks you didn’t recognize, the winding road getting more and more wooded as she drove. 

“Well, now where are we going?” You question, bringing your attention up to her. “You’re not gonna murder me right?” 

Your comment makes her chuckle. “No, I wouldn't dream of it!” The car turned into a long driveway. “I forgot to mention I had to stop at Jujutsu High to pick up Gojo Satoru.”

“A Gojo? I thought you worked for the Zenins?” Your little eyebrows furrow as you settle back into your previous position against the window. Looking at the well manicured landscaping as The car comes to a stop outside a large stair walkway that looks like it leads far into the woods. 

“I work for a few people. I have to drop him off for something.” 

“Something? Like what?”

“Well, that is not my business.” She shrugged. 

Your attention was brought to the stairs, watching as a tall, white haired boy ran down the steps with his hands in his black uniform. He looked smug wearing sunglasses in the rain. His cursed energy grew stronger as he approached the car. Your head turned back to the window as he got closer. Seconds later the car door opened. Watching his reflection in your window as he got in. His cursed energy was strong, stronger than yours. You could see him look over at you through the reflection of the car window. 

“Oh man, it's really pouring isn't it Suzuki-San?” He said, leaning forward to greet her. 

He smelled like expensive cologne and hard candies. Almost like he had melted ones in his pocket. Suzuki turned around to look at him with an expression you have never seen. 

“Hello, Gojo.” She smiled, leaning her arm on the middle console. 

Your head still resting against the car window, watching the interaction. Pre-teen angst stirring around your aura. This isn’t worth missing your favorite show and you have to talk to people you don’t really like in the most uncomfortable kimono to ever exist. Now you have to watch Suzuki swoon over this Gojo guy. You had a good feeling he might be annoying, usually you’re pretty good at reading people and he seemed full of himself. The whole thing makes you want to just jump out of the car. 

He leaned back in his seat as Suzuki started driving. He gave off an interesting energy to say the least, intimidating in a way but you felt a childishness that radiated off of him making you assume he couldn’t be much older than you. Not only that, he was texting someone; the clicking of his phone slightly irritating.  Yeah, you weren’t a fan. He definitely was going to be annoying. 

“You shouldn’t run down stairs with your hands in your pockets.” You stated.

Watching his fuzzy reflection pause, his attention moving to you. A smile grew on his face as he looked at you. All angsty and pretending to be uninterested. Don’t think you're the only one who can feel cursed energy and read people. He felt yours far before he got into the car and by the looks of it, you would be fun to mess with.

“Hm and why is that?” He placed his phone in his lap. What an interesting way to greet a stranger. 

“You really don’t know?” You looked over at him with a scowl, only to be met with an amused smile and sunglasses. 

“Nope.” he shook his head. “You shouldn’t start a conversation so harshly. Maybe try with your name next time.”

Oh, another Naoya? Fun. You thought. The way he spoke was like he was mocking you. So smug like you should be grateful to be in his presence and you couldn’t stand it. “You shouldn’t wear sunglasses inside, it's rude, plus it's raining.” 

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “It is raining, good job kid.” 

“Whatever.” You turned away. Mostly to stop yourself from starting something that would get you in trouble. 

“You know.” he pondered, finger tapping his chin. “If you treat people this way, you won't find a husband.” You felt him lean over to you, hand resting uncomfortably close to your leg but moving away would let him know you were affected by his actions and the more you react the more they keep being annoying. You learned that from Naoya.

“Oh, I don’t want one.” You stated, looking at him. “I-um.”  The second part of your snarky comment dying on the tip of your tongue. The edges of his lips turned up into a cheeky smirk, crystal blue eyes and white eyelashes peaking over the rim of his black sunglasses. In all honesty It made you shut up, his closeness made you lose your edge and Gojo ate it up. He noticed how your posture changed ever so slightly, shifting around nervously as you tried to remember your sarcastic comment. Gojo was right, you would be fun to tease. 

“Go on?” He teased, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You didn’t answer. Scrunching your nose at him. His close proximity made you blush. Why did that make you nervous? It’s not like he was that handsome. (This is a lie, he is very handsome. Unfortunately.) 

“Satoru.” Suzuki’s soft voice cut in, her head shaking lightly as she looked at the pair of you through her mirror. Her expression was sharp as Gojo made eye contact with her. He then looked back at your flush face before falling back against his seat with a sigh. Suzuki’s looks speak a thousand words but she must have known him well for her to address him like that. You were just grateful she saved you, the blush on your face fading while the sounds of talk radio filled the silence in the car.

Your thoughts brought you to the Zen’in clan meeting. You really didn’t care too much about these things, everyone was always so pretentious, always going on about something you pretended to listen to.  Noaya was the worst, of the younger ones that is. Always bullying everyone, especially the girls. He was so vulgar about it too but It didn’t bother you the way he wanted or at least you didn’t show it. Plus it was too much fun to watch his reactions. Boys like him need to be kicked down a peg or two anyway. A/N:(Or be pegged..hehehe)

“Suzuki-san? Do you think Noaya will be there today?” You question breaking the silence. 

“I’m sure he will, why do you ask?” 

“No reason.” you sigh.

Gojo glanced over at you. “Is that your boyfriend or sumin’?” 

“Ew No.” You shook your head. “He calls me a dog or... other things.. So, I bite him.”

“Ya’ one of those weird kids?” He chuckled.

“No. But if you're going to call someone a dog, don't act surprised when they bite you.” You shrug. He was silent, looking at you over his glasses with amusement— you did have a point.

“You’re kinda proving my point here.”

“If you knew him you would understand, he definitely deserves it.” 

“Mhm.” Gojo nodded, turning back to his phone. It was quiet again before he spoke. 

“Well, he's probably just got a crush on you.” 

“Ugh, I hope not.” You say with disgust. “Plus, I don't think you would say the things he says to someone you like.” 

“Like what?” 

“I’d rather not repeat them.” 

The car parking ended your conversation. You had stopping in a part of town you’ve never seen, It was fairly creepy. No bus stops or open stores, just abandoned stores and warehouses. You heard Gojo let out a small sigh before he unbuckled and opened the door, the sound of the rain filled the car as he got out.

“Where are you going?” you ask. “Why are you getting out here? It's creepy.” 

You had leaned over the middle seat to speak to Gojo, looking up at his tall frame as he stepped out. “Wait? Don’t tell me you actually like me?” He said, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke.

“No, I’m just concerned for my own safety.” You said, smiling up at him a teasing glint in your eye. He chuckled, straightening his jacket as he bent down to look at you. Your Seat-Belt stretched as far as it could go in to speak with him. And for the second time since meeting him he makes you blush. His eyes locked with yours as he spoke, his tone no longer filled with its usual teasing nature. 

“That's probably a good thing.” He smiled, swinging the door shut. 

[ruby-whistler]

a lot of people seem to have the attitude "he should've just let them had what they wanted!" when it comes to technoblade and dream both going against l'manberg, and absolutely no offense, but that seems... so awfully naive to me?

[ /dsmp /rp | the other reason why l'manberg deserved to fall ]

it looks like people automatically assume "what they wanted" was good, and that everything would've been fine if it wasn't for techno and dream being in the way. so let's look at what the leaders they fought against actually wanted, shall we?

let's start at the beginning, then.

wilbur (all names in this essay refer to the characters) made l'manberg after he failed to take control of the economy by making a capitalist empire based on lies, rumors and theft.

we're starting off strong, i see.

he referred to tommy as someone to mould or build upon multiple times, saying he is naive and calling it a good thing, even mentioning people like tubbo or fundy as the "a lot of tommyinnits" he could use take advantage of for his plans. these were people who were the most useful in terms of being hardworking and passionate, and arguably the most easily manipulated.

...cool. this still doesn't tell us what he wanted to do with l'manberg, but it gives us a sense of this guy's moral compass and honesty.

wilbur, to his soldiers at least, says that he made l'manberg for freedom and protection. ...freedom to steal from people? protection from... everyone except the guy who wants to exploit them?

yeah no, i'm not trusting anything he says.

let's turn to what wilbur said out of character about the motives with which wilbur the character created l'manberg.

"you could create something that you believe is worth having power over, and because you want to have power over it, everyone else will believe it's important, even though it's not." [ link ]

...alright, well that sorts out that question i suppose.

wilbur after his revival says that l'manberg was a "useful tool" that did what it was supposed to do; it divided. since naturally i'm not going to take his words at face value if it would kill me, let's turn back to what wilbur was actually saying and doing back when he made l'manberg, because maybe his memory has just faded, right?

*rewatching the vod* is he. is he quoting tr*mp's speech about building a wall and "making the mexicans pay for it" while being openly xenophobic towards the people who originally lived in the lands and building a giant wall?

ooo boy. cc!wilbur knew what he was doing, wasn't he?

see, if you rewatch the vods and look at them as satire on american propaganda (including the hamilton references) everything starts to fall into place.

but hey, l'manberg changed, right? it grew into something more than that initial quest for glory... right? i mean, the l'manberg government wasn't even corrupt up until schlatt's reign, right?

*laughs* no.

let's fast-forward.

l'manberg... hadn't done much after the revolution. it was just a safe space, but not really. people are living just as they did before, and neither wilbur nor l'manberg really changed much.

wilbur doesn't like that, and that is clear from what happens next.

Wilbur: “Tommy, we need power.”

Tommy: “Yeah?”

Wilbur: “I’ve tried – I spoke to Fundy and Tubbo yesterday, I told them how I didn’t like the civil war they were having, you know the fights that were going on.”

Tommy: “Yeah, that huge war in our name, yeah.”

Wilbur: “I told them I wasn’t happy with it, I told them to stop. Do you remember when you started getting angry at Dream, and I tried to control you, and you ignored me? …Yeah. See, this is the thing. Tommy, I…I led the revolution, right, but the issue is, is that I sort of became the de facto President, but no one listens to me. No one cares about mine – or your – power. No one cares! To us, we may be in anarchy, you know?”

alright, so a) wilbur dislikes anarchy, that's a good thing to remember for later, b) he's pissed off that people aren't listening to him (and tommy, but he definitely just added that on to make him care about the subject) and he can't "control" them c) he sees more power as a solution. well... maybe he just doesn't want people to fight, right? he's talking about a civil war he couldn't stop, after all.

Wilbur: “We can either, Tommy, right – we can either become a dictatorship, okay…we can just suddenly decide, ‘right, we’re in charge,’ and we just start – we start asserting our dominance. Now the key thing to being a dictator, is we need to control the center of power…so we get an army going –”

Tommy: “What is the center of power? Is it like some cube, or like an orb?”

Wilbur: “The army! The army! The banks, you know? We take control of those, and then people will do exactly as we say, right? That’s the dictatorship route, right. The other route is the democracy route. Now, this route’s gonna be slightly harder, but I have a plan. So I was thinking…what better way of making people believe that you’re in charge than by having them vote for you, right?”

so, wilbur was thinking of getting "an army going" to "control the center of power" and to "take control" of "the banks". he saw this as a valid solution to people not bending to his authority.

then he turned to election fraud instead, which he puts as straight-up manipulation of his people into believing he isn't a dictator.

...what. i'm not going to praise him for that decision, that's not even the bare minimum - he's still being a prick and showing just how much he actually doesn't care about what the "people he claims to care about" (cc!wilbur's words again) want.

but let's get back to the point; so, according to all of the current evidence, what did wilbur want?

wilbur wanted glory, power and division, to be able to enforce his authority and take control of his people.

...this is what people are saying dream shouldn't have stood up against in his land and "left them alone". that is what people are saying he should've "let wilbur have" in the home he worked to protect and build for the people he cared about - and keep in mind the dream smp was pretty much an anarchy back then.

this was willbur's intentions, and the first instinct of a lot of people was to paint dream as the tyrant. that just doesn't sit right with me, i'll be honest with you.

what about techno, then?

well, new l'manberg was ruled by tubbo, who was only doing his best - truly doing his best to turn wilbur's lies into a reality. no corruption, no conflict, only a home.

but tubbo was not ever actually in charge, was he?

let's talk about post-16th quackity.

i remember the second tubbo livestream i ever saw live was him rebuilding the crater; putting up grass blocks over the top, with quackity and fundy helping him out. it was when quackity first proposed the idea of getting rid of techno.

tubbo didn't want conflict, and he disagreed at first because it went against his ideals and his morals.

that didn't pan out well for him - and i think that's enough evidence quackity was pulling the strings of the cabinet, if you take into consideration the propaganda, riling up, and overall vengefulness that we suddenly seemed to be working with.

quackity's words didn't speak louder than his actions, but they are still interesting to note; "bring this country to power" being a common theme in his motivation for getting techno and dream "out of the way".

so quackity wanted power as well, and this desire only grew as it was taken further from his reach, but ever since the 16th, it has been very prominent in the way he instructed the new l'manberg government.

techno, the local anarchist who fought (only) oppressive governments that hurt people, was supposed to not do doomsday and "leave l'manberg alone", while what quackity wanted was nothing else than to turn l'manberg back into a tool of power and control.

i'm beginning to see a pattern here.

i am all for giving people the benefit of the doubt, really; but the constant glorification of a revolution leader who did everything for his own power and benefit, and a "secretary" that committed multiple war crimes and literally harmed and manipulated innocents in his quest for power; plus the instantaneous villainization of those who stood as obstacles in their path, is a bit too much even for this fandom's standards, even for me.

i get wilbur and quackity are both silver-tongued bastards able to shift the narrative in their favor, but the grudges people will hold against characters that fight against them and the measures to which they'll reach in order to defend them is wild.

it's not as easy as "they should've let l'manberg be". the people leading l'manberg were far from innocent and had sinister intentions.

[halcyon-writings]

i checked this list and it said persona so im hoping this is still ok. Date night with the protagonists? (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and thank you >///

ー『anonymous: Can i get dating headcanons for the persona protags (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and super thank yous. I love these boys so much. ;A;』

note(s): I am going to combine these requests as they are similar enough I hope that is alright! no real warnings for this one either, I just think these dudes are neat. Also I know they all have like 5 different names, so I just went with the ones I am more familiar with. Maybe(????) spoilers for 3, 4, and 5, so if you haven’t finished or played them, be warned (although, idk if anyone would read it if they haven’t played the respective game but idk warning for spoilers just in case) also idk how i feel about these hcs rn, but i did my best dhdjdj

all my other links can be found in my navigation post!! If you like my writing and you’d like to support me, my tip jar is also linked there!

hcs under the cut so i’m not clogging anyone’s dash (originally these were gonna be a short set of hcs but i guess not dbdndn)

What our dear protagonist lacks in overall extrovertedness, he makes up for in action. Surprise surprise, dates can either range from hanging out in the dorms and cooking a nice meal together. Or maybe going to the mall and heading to the arcade. Or basically wandering around until your legs hurt and your purchases range from new outfits to weird antiques from the antique shop.

However he really does treasure these little trinkets, because the memory of your laughter when you were given a certain item will forever be ingrained in his mind. It’s a comfort in the end too.

Date nights are focused on you and you only. He definitely sets a date where he knows you both are free so that there’s less likely of a chance for being interrupted. He definitely wouldn’t want his time with you to be wasted. Although seeing his small pout when it does happen is very cute.

You also gotta be keen on if he sees something he likes and wants. While Minato won’t exactly say it, his gaze lingers a bit longer than usual. But he ultimately won’t get it, because he wants to focus on you and also save up for when the group goes to Tartarus. So if you surprise him with whatever he had wanted, he’s so happy.

While he is slightly more reserved in comparison to Yu and Akira, Minato speaks through action. Whenever you two are walking together, he always has your hand in his, or keeping close by in some way. He likes to cling to you when it’s just you two, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you two nap tother, legs tangled up together. Or the small jokes he says loud enough for only you to hear, but they’re still so funny. Sometimes you’re asked if he’s really a good boyfriend, and you have to laugh off the doubt, because they don’t see the sides of him that you do.

My god. Yu would absolutely be the best at arranging dates and hangouts. I take no criticism. Like you guys could literally just be walking all around Inaba, or just sitting by the river bed and it could be one of the greatest times you’ve both had together. A romantic at heart, Yu would also be a bit cheesy in arranging dates.

He shows affection through communcating it. Whether it’s a new outfit or something, he’ll say that you look incredible or if you’ve studied for a hard exam, he’ll make sure you know how amazing you are for passing. Idk just anything that has you smiling from sweet compliments and other words of affirmation. A big sap, honestly you try and joke about it but he just earnestly says “Who wouldn’t be for you?” And you have to sit down and hide your face in your hands for a solid 5 minutes.

You also gotta be cool with Nanako. But then again she’s a cute kid and a sweetheart so idk why you wouldn’t be. Although he does get a little flustered if it’s you two watching her while Dojima-san is working late at the station and the old ladies coo over how you three look like a mini family yourselves. Which is kind of a common occurrence. And I feel like Yu would know pretty well if he sees a future with someone he’s with, and with you he does shhh

Date nights in Inaba are really fun and a good way to wind down, sometimes it’s wandering Junes and finding whatever the newly advertised, as seen on tv appliance is. Or other parts of the shopping district, where he can really let go and just have fun for himself. When not worrying about school work or the cases the Investigation Team is working on.

some spoilers here; but after Izanami is defeated and the year ends. When Yu has to leave Inaba it doesn’t mean that he won’t put his best efforts to keep up the relationship. If possible, video calls or just the occasional text too. And when he visits, while he does miss his friends, he’s especially antsy to see you too. And when you’re both together again, he refuses to leave your side.

Now, Akira can be described as this suave, casanova type character. But he’s also a giant dork and you know it, he knows it, the Phantom Thieves all know it, hell even Sojiro knows it. It doesn’t mean his attempts at flirting doesn’t get you blushing. And when he sees the flustered expression, it only motivates him to keep going. But turn the tables on him, and he’s putty in your hands. (And he looks very cute).

Because of the way you met, aka, at Shujin, where his reputation was basically over and done with before it even began, he has a lot of doubt and trust issues, what if someone dared you to speak to the “criminal” or something? While he won’t show these doubts out loud to his friends, it’s still something he thinks back on a lot. But when you defend him vehemently one day, he knows he was right to trust you.

A part of dating Akira, is eventually finding out who he is. Maybe trips to Mementos cause him to be late to dates or not even show up at all. You end up stood up more often then not once things begin to get really serious. From small time school teachers to the literal Yakuza (and eventually a candidate for Prime Minister, and a god), you don’t know where he is. And that becomes really stressful because then the doubt™️ sets in.

To make this less angsty and more funny, imagine you know from figuring it out. He’s suspiciously watching the news on the PT, and no offense to Ryuji, he’s not the most quiet. So he’s so nervous trying to tell you when you’re just “yeah I know, sorry for not telling you, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know.” and he’s just the surprised pikachu face.

As for date nights, the city is your oyster. I’d say the world but mans still currently has a criminal record so probably not yet. But he’s gonna take you wherever you want. Whether it’s a themed cafe, or just the streets of Shinjuku, as you take in all the sights from the bright places, he’s willing to do whatever for you. That includes facing off kids at the arcade for a stuffed plush you saw and admitted it was cute. He is a man on a mission. And you cannot stop him. So you both end up back at Leblanc at the end of the night carrying your plushies and eating some curry that Sojiro left warming for you. That even includes the Big Bang Burger challenge he will do it for you , even though you probably do laugh at his pain after but you still coo and praise his efforts.

After he goes back home, record clean and world hopefully peaceful. Virtual dates become a thing, either just sitting and talking while having dinner or something is nice. He still loves to say those cheesy pickup lines that had you hiding your flustered expression as you walked through the streets of Shibuya on call. You only hung up on him once but he quickly called back and was very pouty about it. You were forgiven though with the promise of giving many kisses when he visits.

[blxetsi]

HIIIII!! can i get a pieck finger dating headcanons if that’s alright with you of course? your stuff makes me soft, stay safe!

yuh ‼️ tysm for your request

pieck finger dating headcanons (modern au)

pieck finger x gn!reader

warnings: literal fluff, no angst or anything i love pieck

- bc pieck is assumed to be like 23-26 this wont be a uni au or anything

- idk i rlly think you guys wouldve met in a mundane way

- like you bump into her on the sidewalk and try to the really awkward "oh im so sorry i didnt see you there- no really it was my fault- are you sure youre okay ?- okay great- no im not hurt- yeah- okay have a good day and again im so sorry !!" thing with her

- and then maybe you guys see each other again at a coffee place, youre there with your friends and shes there with hers, and you dont wanna talk to her obv bc that would be awkward

- then ur friend makes u go and order another coffee for them, and while youre waiting for your order pieck comes and stands beside you

- and shes very observant yknow ?? if she sees a face its very hard for her to forget it

- so she immediately recognizes you and blurts out "its you !"

- and you have to be like "oh yeah ! it is me ! its you too"

- she finds it quite cute and giggles about it

- a very laidback person but also a very blunt person

- she doesnt find any harm in asking "can i get your instagram @" look she doesnt wanna be a creep and ask for ur number right at the start

- and it gives her a chance to find out what kind of person you are

- it would absolutely suck for her if such a cute face was posting fishing pictures and alt right propaganda yknow ??

- so you two do and then both of your orders come so you two give awkward goodbyes before going back to your groups

- her instagram is very pretty, nice themes

- she posted a couple of hours ago, with her and her friends in a park, taking a couple of posed photos while some looking like they were natural

- shes adorable and you cant help but feel your cheeks go warm as you basically stalk her page

- she dms you and says "are you too busy looking at my feed that you havent followed me yet ?" and you see this mf staring at you across the room like 👁️👁️

- okay nosy lets calm down now 🙄🤚

- you try to defend urself but ur typing so quick you keep making errors in your writing, she ends up saying something else

"you know, i was doing the exact same thing. youre beautiful you know"

- thank you pieck 🥰

- over the next couple of weeks thats how you two communicate. she'll send you instagram memes and edits of her favourite shows, movies, games etc. and you find yourself having a lot in common w her

- you check her story so frequently it becomes one of the first accounts on the top of your homepage

- and FINALLY, when she feels she can see you as a friend and not just some pretty stranger she met on the street she asks you out

- it was a simple thing, just to the movies, and she even let you pick which one !! (imagine its pre covid idfk)

- you two go and its an awkward hug before you both head inside

- you pay for your tickets and she gets an extra large popcorn and a drink

- you assume shes just v hungry but before you can order yourself something shes like "what are you doing i got this for us !!"

- rlly cute bitch omfg

- during the movies, after she eats literally most of the fucking popcorn, she pulls your hand out of your lap and holds it with her buttery one 🥰🤚

- this bitch had crumbs and didnt even think to wipe them off

- you still held her hand tho anyways

- after that night you parted ways in front of the theater after making sure you two would be getting home safe

- and that became routine for a couple of weeks, not going to the movies obviously bc thats expensive but watching movies together !! youd go over to her apartment or she would come over to yours

- one thing about pieck is that shes very touchy

- one way or another she will end up cuddled with you on the couch

- it doesnt matter if its you being forcefully pulled on top of her body or her draping herself over you like shes a blanket, you two WILL be cuddling and you WILL enjoy it

- but finally, as if the gods gave you mercy, she finally kissed you

- it felt so nice, her lips were soft and sticky from her lip gloss and she tasted like the swedish berries you had gotten for her to munch on

- and the rest of the movie you two just sat there, kissing each other and giggling like teens

- she ended up staying the night, and complimented your bedsheets

- your relationship moved pretty fast after that

- she had already told all of her friends about you, they werent very surprised

- when you got officially introduced her friends zeke and porco tried to do that whole "if you hurt her.." speech before she slapped them and had marcel pull you away to safety

- other than that the night was very fun, you got to talking about your career, why you moved to the city, and other mundane topics

- pieck is actually a graphic designer, and everytime she comes to sleep over she just HAS to bring her laptop with her

- its basically just her laying in between your legs while she types away, youll pet her hair and lay soft kisses on her neck, and occasionally ask what shes doing

- she likes to tell you, has no problem in answering the questions you have, even if you think theyre stupid ones, shes very soft with you

- also a bit of a trickster

- for your first april fools together she slept over, you didnt have anything planned for her bc youre a good person and wont hurt the ones you love

- she stuffed your breakfast muffin with mustard 😁👍

- you gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the day until she apologized by getting you a new muffin

- now she always dropped the l bomb to you, but she never needed you to say it

- thats why, when you were helping her cook dinner at her place you softly said "see ? and thats why i love you" she kind of,,, stopped what she was doing

- you realized why she wasnt washing the knife she used to cut your vegetables and tried to backtrack, but it was too late, she was already tackling you into a hug and taking you down onto the floor

- she just gave you kisses while repeating "i love you i love you i love you" over and over again

- bc of her you burnt ur fucking chicken smh

- you spent that night eating junk food and watching movies

- piecks a very observant person, so she always knows when youre sad too

- when you give that little huff when you come home to your (new !) shared apartment she knows something is up

- she'll slowly trail behind you as you walk to your bedroom, stripping to your underwear and changing into your pajamas

- you crawl into bed just wanting a nap to forget about the day, and she'll crawl in with you and hold you

- you never like to cry but youre so frustrated and upset at your coworkers, at that rude customer, at those deadlines, that you just breakdown

- and she lets you, she lets you almost suffocate yourself in her chest with how much your pushing your head into it, she strokes your hair while you choke on your own cries and hands you tissues when you need to blow your nose

- "what do you need my love ?" "i just need you" "okay baby"

- communication is a big thing in the relationship, and because shes been so open and honest from the beginning, talking about how you feel has never been easier

- in fact, you like talking about how you feel about your relationship, or how you didnt like what pieck said to your friends the other day, this and that, you feel comfortable and safe with pieck no matter what, which makes talking about even the most hardest things seem so simple and natural

- all in all, even when she wakes you up with spontaneous ice cream dates or asks that you put raisins in the popcorn during movie night, even with the fights and the crying and the exhaustion the next day, life would be much duller without her, and you only have to thank your clumsy self

uhh i feel like this is very short but yeah ❤️ requests are open so go crazy mfs ‼️

[siriusmydeer]

Hi hi hi, First thing, I legit love your theme sm-

Second thing, I was wondering if I could maybe request a fic where Fred is best friends with a gryffindor fem!reader who try’s to stay in the shadows but he and George are basically her best friends who she loves with all her heart bc they treat her kindly and don’t try to over push her limits and Fred always try’s to check up on her every other night because he wants to make sure she doesn’t get too lonely (they have a really fluffy relationship) and time skip to him asking her to the Yule ball and then dancing with her in private where they can still hear the music but where ppl can’t see because he knows she doesn’t like crowds and idrk just fluffy and they end up kissing or smth

Anyway, have a good day and don’t feel pressured to do this okay! Drink some water and eat some food.

hi, darling!!! thank u so much for the request, also if anyone else has sent me a request i’ll be working on them this weekend. i hope this is what you wanted :))

not a yule ball

fred weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

summary: fred and you have your own yule ball.

warnings: food, mentions of loneliness, mentions of claustrophobia, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of alcohol, fred being a sweet heart, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, mutual pining but freddie being a simp, a KISS, a light slap (like on the chest?), mentions of spiking drinks with alcohol and mentions of a panic attack

word count: 2.2k

“when are you gonna tell her, mate?” george said looking at his ginger twin. “tell who, what?” he said defensively, afraid that he had made his feelings to obvious. “are you forgetting we’re magical twins? i know everything.” george said smugly, smirking and looking back at his newest invention while fred went to lay on his four poster bed.

fred was about to defend himself, lying at the fact his twin caught him dreaming about his crush who also happened to be his bestfriend, besides george of course. “you can barely stomach the thought of her getting pranked, i know you better than yourself it’s not that hard to tell” his twin looked back to his him as fred grumbled something under his breath.

he was about to continue his plea to his fiery headed twin as you, you’re gorgeous locks framing your face, your perfect coloured irises looked for him first, the way your skin looked good in every shade of lighting and the way your figure made its way over to his sitting beside his laying figure.

“you alright, freddie? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” you said looking at the red head confused. his eyes widened before sitting up next to you. “yeah, you alright love? look a bit fidgety.” he said as you were wringing your fingers together and george smirked over to fred before getting up going to the common room.

“alright, i guess. for transfiguration mcgonagall partnered me with people i don’t really know so i have to meet them in the library soon. i dunno, it’s stupid m’just nervous” you mumbled, embarrassed before looking at him. he scooted closer to you and placing a hand on your arm.

“darling, if you want i can talk to her, i mean she favours us gryffindors and i can tell her i’ll lay off the pranks and stuff?” he said quickly before adding, “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” he said in a sorrowful tone, rubbing his hand up and down your arm before pulling you into a hug. his hands rested on your waist as your arms winded their way around his neck and your head on his shoulder.

“no..no... m’fine i’ll just get over it, i have to go but i’ll see you and georgie later?” you said standing up, smoothing down your skirt and walking towards the door. “yeah?” “of course darling, i couldn’t leave you alone even if i wanted too.” and with that you were off to the library. a few seconds later the other mischievous twin apparated into the dorm and pouncing on fred’s bed.

“damn, didn’t know you were that whipped.” george added, with a laugh. “oh, bugger off!” the long haired ginger, yelled hitting george with a pillow.

later that evening fred couldn’t keep his mind off you, and your well being. he always knew that you tended to distance yourself, normally not on purpose but it was a habit that he always wanted to help you break. he knew like it was written on the back of his hand that large crowds made you nervous, he also knew that that when you were nervous you would pull on your favourite ring he made you for your birthday. you tended to like things homemade things rather than store bought, when you were nervous you would bounce your leg to the point where he would have to grab your leg to stop it.

he memorized every quirk, every indication of a mood change and he knew when things were good or bad. he didn’t think he was whipped, he thought this was what friends normally for other friends. that was until he saw you flip your hair a certain way, or loosen that gryffindor tie of yours and he absolutely wanted to kiss you senseless. he hadn’t told you, or george for that matter because he didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship you had built since second year when he helped you through a panic attack after snape had embarrassed you infront of the whole class.

‘maybe i should check on her... i don’t want to be to clingy?’ he thought to himself.

he opted to go to your dormitory, biding past the charm on the staircase and knocking on your door twice, an indication it was him before seeing you on your lay on your twin bed chipping away at your nail polish. “anything you wanna talk about?” he said before hopping on your bed sitting back on your headboard.

“it wasn’t bad, just frustrating.” you said looking into his brown irises through your dark eyelashes. “cormac kept speaking over me, he just kept interrupting and it was frustrating.” you mumbled before looking back at your fingernails.

“you had mclaggen in your group? absolutely not, i’m talking to mcgonagall.” he said, trying to stand up but not before you grabbed his hand pulling it back down. he got flustered at the completely innocent gesture, face flaring up, stomach getting tingly and his heart feeling like it could burst from his chest.

“you freddie, aren’t doing anything.” you sigh, “i’ll just work through it, it’s only a few days.” you giggled before adding, “plus if you’re coming to check on me, then i really don’t mind.” you say scrunching your nose in his direction before padding over to your desk to grab something.

if fred was flustered before, everything that had just occurred inside of his body exhilarated one hundred times harder. you WANTED him to come see you, and check on you. fred was of course, quite the flirt and he mostly new what to say to girls. but with a girl as gorgeous, and caring as you, you had him completely speechless.

“hey- you ate today right? drank water, took care of yourself? i know you forget sometimes, angel...” he said sheepishly fumbling with his ring-clad fingers looking at his lap. you smiled at his ability for care for someone, you of all people, “yeah... yeah, hermione brought me stuff.” you looked at him before grabbing a makeup wipe and looking in the mirror.

“i should- i should go me and george.... are working on a new prank, so i’m gonna go.” he said before walking to the door,

“see you tomorrow, freddie?”

“see you tomorrow, darling.”

the first bit of the semester quickly approached, the sooner you were to christmas, the sooner was... the yule ball. a ball with teenagers, dancing, fancy clothes and people trying to subtly drink alcohol... i mean who wouldn’t love it? you. you definitely did not love it. big sweaty crowds, with music you probably wouldn’t like, and drink spiking with god knows what liquor.

i mean as long as the clothes were ugly you definitely didn’t mind, and seeing fred in a suit was something you also definitely did not mind either but the claustrophobia of it all really made you want to lay in your bed and have a nice and long nap.

george’s reminders of fred’s pining definitely didn’t help either, fred wanted to go with you of course but he also knew that you definitely weren’t fond of big groups. so he had a brewing idea bubbling in that gorgeous mind of his, and the room of requirement. he had went to george with the idea hoping that it was a way to have a fun time in your own way, the more sensitive twin of the bunch agreed it was great idea.

after working on a 4ft scroll for potions, you were about to go find your 2 prankster bestfriends when you heard a double knock at the door and then the creak of it opening. you’re favourite fiery redhead walked in without his normal strut, and padded in nervously with his gaze strictly at the floor before sheepishly looking at you. “are you busy..?” he said before walking closer.

you set your quill down and look back at him and cock an eyebrow, “no...why?” you said nervously, hoping he wasn’t about to prank you considering he hadn’t since the beginning of term.

“i wanted to take you somewhere.., that’s if your not busy” he said interlocking his fingers together looking back at you. “no i’ve just done all my homework..” you stuck your hand out, “take me to the secret man cave where you test all your pranks on the innocent.” you said giggling while he interlocks your fingers together.

you guys roam around the castle till he guides you up the astronomy tower, the sky painted hues of red and orange.

“i’ve never looked at the view from up here...” you say flashing your irises towards him then back at the sunset. “yeah, it’s stunning.” he says, staring directly at your (BEAUTIFULLY CARVED) side profile, “oh yeah, the sunsets alright too” he said with a chuckle, untangling your fingers and brining his arm around your waist.

you look back at the lanky red head before lightly slapping your hand against his chest and looking up at him. “such a flirt, weasley.” you say looking back at the fading sky.

“go to the ball with me.”

“well that’s demanding.”

“well, get a pretty dress, do your hair all nice or don’t you look gorgeous at every moment of the day” fred wasn’t sure where this surge of gryffindor confidence came from, but he wasn’t exactly going to back down now.

“and don’t worry we’re not gonna be around sweaty, horny teenagers... i’ve got a surprise.” he says looking at you with smirk, oh he new you all too well.

“yeah freddie, i’ll go to a not yule ball with you”

then night was tonight, a pretty dress that excentuated every dip, curve and line of your body. you chose gryffindor red for house pride, even thought nobody would see it besides fred. you had done your makeup to perfectly match your completion, and done a hair style that exactly matched the hair type that laid on your head. your tresses, makeup and dress all compliment each-other. you look in the mirror a little more, wringing your fingers together before looking up at the door.

fred opened the door, leaning on its frame. his hair was long, not styled but you had always liked it better messy anyways. he was dressed in brown and black dress robes and if you thought fred was attractive before? you really thought we was beautiful now.

“you’re-... wow. everything is wow, you’re just so beautiful” fred said, looking you up and down analyzing your hair, face, and dress. “freddie, you look... really good” you nervously laughed before walking up to his lanky figure.

he grabbed your hand and brought you through the hallways, he also had made you cover your eyes and guided you once you reached a certain hallway. your movements were put to a halt when he whispered to you that were were almost there, you stood before a few seconds before you heard his footsteps again. ‘was he.... pacing?’ you thought to yourself. he grabbed your hand again before bringing you in a room.

“okay... open your eyes”

you quickly opened your eyes, a giant ballroom, with a instruments charmed to play your favourite music and fred to your left grinning like an idiot.

“oh my merlin.... did you do all this for me?” you say looking at him in the eyes, eyebrows scrunched and tearing welling in your eyes. “sweaty teenagers, bad music and spiked drinks with fire whisky aren’t really your favourite but i still wanted you to have a good evening. so i opted for this.” he said before looking at the floor then back at you.

“fred, i cannot fathom how amazing you are.” you said with a squeal before kissing his cheek and running to the middle of the floor. “c’mon now! don’t waste the music, dance with me!”

and with that, he was off. some songs were fast, some songs were slow. but then your favourite slow song came and he knew no matter how much protesting his brain was saying, george’s little voice was much to over powering. “i can see those gears in your head moving, care to tell me what your thinking about?”

“you.”

“i’m going to need you to elaborate, please.” she always has a smooth way with words, he thought.

“everything, you’re everything. you mean everything to me.” fred definitely wasn’t a nervous, butterfly in the stomach and flustered guy but for for you we was tripping over his feet and becoming beet red at the slightest touch from you.

“kiss me.” for being such a closed off girl, you sure were bold. you said it more of a statement rather than a question but fred didn’t care, in that moment he only wanted to kiss the girl that also wanted to kiss him.

he moved his hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. he moved forward engaging you in a kiss, it was slow, passionate and it was something you had been both waiting for. you pulled away for a second to let your lungs breath but not before he captured your lips again moving faster, his grip on your waist tighted.

“merlin, i’ve been waiting to do that”

[mrs-gucci]

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy. 

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open. 

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression. 

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours. 

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy. 

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side. 

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man. 

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

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

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response. 

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you. 

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress. 

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

 It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice. 

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state. 

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door.  By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill. 

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits. 

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds. 

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs. 

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy, 

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically. 

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot. 

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach. 

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother. 

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks. 

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand. 

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now. 

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack. 

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees. 

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog.  “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back. 

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside. 

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him. 

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy. 

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat.  Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room. 

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human.  He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier. 

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him. 

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance. 

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos. 

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks. 

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so. 

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now. 

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

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

It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later.  Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this. 

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape. 

Oh god, no. 

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor. 

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can. 

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate.  “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later.  As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

[autumnsunshine10]

Two Amandas, One T.J., and Me

We lived in the same neighborhood that summer, all around the same age though they were slightly older--heading into seventh grade while I would be entering sixth. Amanda K. had light brown long hair sun-streaked blonde in places, a smattering of freckles, and glasses over hazel eyes. Amanda J. was taller, more reserved and broody, with dark brown hair brushing her shoulders and an olive skin tone. Her dark eyes squinted when she smiled, like mine did. I had that in common with her and had hair and eye color more similar to Amanda K.'s. Not sure what else we three had in common other than proximity of residence and having younger brothers who were friends too.

Besides their names and being sisters to brothers close in age, they had one other thing in common between the two of them (and boy did it come in between): a boy, the titular T.J.

T.J. had recently moved from Massachusetts, maybe that was his appeal. Lanky and awkward with a Beavis and Butthead type laugh (and humor), he often spent time at my house, playing video games with my little brother. My siblings and I would make digs about his New England accent while he poked fun at our drawls. More than once he got a throw pillow angrily aimed at him, he had that kind of effect. At our house, he could only be taken in small doses, my mom even making up reasons why he had to leave once the T.J. tolerance had run out...and it was never long. Not helped by the fact that he would try to flirt with every female in sight. Like the two Amandas. Only their tolerance for T.J. was much higher.

Amanda K. one day saw me outside and rode her metallic purple bike up, wearing a secretive grin and announcing, "I like someone."

"Okay."

Exasperation took the grin from her face. "Aren't you going to ask who?"

"Okay, who?"

"T.J." The grin was back for some reason.

I felt like I had to pick my jaw up off the ground. "T.J.?! Are we talking about the same T.J.?"

"T.J. _____"

I stared blankly, never having heard his last name.

"You know, the one who lives 3 doors down, that T.J.!"

"Okay but...why?!"

"Because he likes me, he acts like it all the time and even said so yesterday...likes me like a boyfriend! I want to hang out again but I think he's with Amanda J. Do you think he likes her?! I think she might like him. Do you think?"

"Ummm I--"

"Wait, do you like him?!"

"No way ewww!"

"Why not?!"

"Because...he's T.J.!"

"You don't think he's cute?"

"Not even a little bit."

The conversation went along in the same vein for not much longer before Amanda K. got bored and, casting one last glare at T.J.'s house, took off to write her feelings in her diary.

Days later Amanda J. showed up at my door looking to talk to me. She asked if I had heard from Amanda K. who was avoiding her for some reason.

"Oh boy, she is going too far," I groaned with an eyeroll.

"What do you mean? Do you know what's wrong?"

I relayed some of our T.J. conversation. Amanda J. bit out, "Yeah I like T.J. and he likes me. We're gonna keep hanging out and she'll have to just get over it. She doesn't own him, he can do what he wants and like who he wants. She thinks he should pick her because she's pretty and her dad is in that country band with a video on TV, but this time she won't get her way!"

I couldn't believe my ears, that both Amandas were losing it...and over T.J. of all things. I would have laughed at the absurdity but knew it wouldn't go over well...tough crowd.

Then came their individual tactics to make T.J. choose. He said he wasn't a one girl guy and milked the triangle for all it was worth. It culminated at a performance for our girl group of some generic forgettable name. We formed it earlier that summer--wannabe Spice Girls, with the call to be the female Backstreet Boys. Two songs were all we ever had--one inspired heavily by "I Want It That Way" ("Woke up this morning just to hear you say, I want it that way..."); and the requisite girl power anthem I penned, rhyming "girls" with "pearls" while trying to prove our superiority to boys.

Our neighborhood friends had been invited to watch us mumble-sing and move in a way akin to dancing while dressed up in outfits we thought looked pop star cool...mine more resembled a librarian on laundry day. T.J. of course was there, no doubt invited by both Amandas; certainly not by me.

We gave it our best(ish), me flanked by the at-odds Amandas trying to outperform one another while also acting like the other was not there. T.J.'s attention was their main goal. But T.J. wandered off to the video games shortly after we began. Most of the others had too actually; our audience didn't appreciate our attempts at artistry. Can't say I blame them.

Amandas shot eye daggers at each other over my head as I plopped down halfway through the BSB rip-off song I had been the only one singing for a while.

"This is your fault, Amanda, T.J. got tired of your big mouth and seeing you hog the stage!" Our stage was more of a coffee table.

"Nuh uh, the Amanda he is sick of is you! I heard you kissed him in the pool the other day but then he swam away laughing," cold laughter followed.

"Who told you?! He kissed me then laughed because he splashed water. Funny how he kissed me again after we left! But your spy missed that!"

"You. Kissed. T.J.?!" I shrieked.

Neither of them paid me any notice, too intent on fighting over T.J. some more before each harumphed off to their respective homes. The theme carried through the rest of that summer, T.J.  bouncing back and forth without a care to be seen. And beyond that? Would you believe T.J. eventually grew on me and I realized his charms, being the one to end up with him when it was all said and done? Nah that's not what went down, though if this were an entirely fictionalized account it probably would be the so-called surprise ending.

What actually happened was how these things typically play out. The summer of T.J. tug-of-war ended when Amanda J. moved away, then Amanda K. wondered what she ever saw in him, helped along by school starting back up and her crushing on some boy in her class. I moved not long after that and sometimes stayed in touch with the Amandas until the middle of high school. I occasionally saw T.J. around my high school but we never spoke again. Last I heard, Amanda J. moved to New York. Have no idea where Amanda K. and T.J. ended up. For all I know, they found each other again as adults and he felt he couldn't live without an Amanda in his life any more, that Amanda K. was the Amanda for him, and they eloped right away.

I guess that scenario would be the storybook ending...or beginning of a horror story. Take your pick.

[lyranova]

Children of the Future:

Chapter 16: Ezio

Hi guys! I’m so sorry this chapter took so long 😭, i swear IRL has been crazy! But luckily the next chapters won’t take too long since i have them partially written already hehe. Anyway this is the last child that will be appearing and the next ones we’ll finally get some answers hehe. I hope you all enjoy~!

Taglist: @eme-eleff @simpingforthisonedeer @flow3rbudz @crazyclownthanos @thoughtfullyrainynightmare @melissa-novachrono @ckjwnnbc @bowandcurtsey @elysianluv (i’m sorry if i forgot anyone! I lost my taglist 😭)

Word Count: 2,781

Warnings: None

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Finral and Vanessa slowly made their way to the Wizard Kings office, the two of them had been pretty surprised when the Wizard Kings assistant Marx had contacted them directly and told them that the Wizard King would like to see them. The two had been confused at first, especially since Captain Yami wasn’t there, but they knew better than to refuse an order such as this. So, the two followed the guard silently as they made their way to the Wizard King's office.

“ Hey Vanessa,” Finral started sheepishly. “ Why do you think the Wizard King asked to see us instead of asking for Captain Yami?” Finral had a gut feeling he knew why, but he didn’t want to say it out loud and jinx it.

“ Hm, I’m not 100% sure but I have a feeling it has to do with the kids suddenly appearing and, if I were to go off what's been happening the past week, then I would guess that what’s behind that door is our future child.” Vanessa explained in a hushed voice, as though she didn’t want to say it too loudly. Finral frowned a bit.

“ Scared if you say it too loudly it’ll come true?” He asked her with a sheepish laugh, Vanessa turned to look at him and gave a small laugh.

“ Yeah a little bit.” She admitted, Finral laughed a bit as well.

“ Same here.”

Soon the two were standing in front of the Wizard Kings office, neither one could remember ever being here before so they were very nervous. Finral let out an audible gulp, not only was he nervous about who was beyond that door but he was also nervous as to what Captain Yami would say when he found out. Just the thought of it made Finral pale.

“ Y-Y’know what? I think I left the stove on back at the Hideout. I'll just go back home and check.” Finral said as he opened up a portal to led back to the Hideout, but before he could even think of walking through it Vanessa grabbed the back of his cloak.

“ Yeah you’re not getting out of this one that easily, besides I’m with you so there’s nothing to be afraid of or nervous about.” Vanessa told him with a warm and confident smile, Finral groaned and reluctantly closed the portal. He had to admit whenever he was with Vanessa it did make him a bit braver and more confident.

The guard opened the Wizard Kings office doors and announced the Black Bulls had arrived before exiting the room. Vanessa and Finral looked at each other briefly before turning to look at the Wizard King, his Aide Marx, and a pink haired boy who stood slightly off to the side.

“ Finral, Vanessa, welcome! I apologize we called you here without Captain Yami but we figured he would like a small break from all of this.” Julius said with a small laugh, Finral and Vanessa nodded almost robotically as they just stared at the pink haired boy. He couldn’t be any older then 15, his pink hair was shoulder length and partially tied into a ponytail, he wore a Black Bulls robe and underneath was a wine red suit and boots with a black shirt. He also wore a pair of dark red earrings. His purple eyes finally looked to meet theirs.

“ A-Are you,” Finral stammered slightly, he looked as white as a sheet as he turned to face Julius and Marx. “ Are you sure he isn’t just Vanessa’s kid? I-I mean, he looks almost identical to her.” Finral added, maybe they had the wrong guy for his father?

“ Oh no he’s definitely your son.” Julius said with a small laugh, causing Finral to frown. What did that mean? Suddenly Finral and Vanessa felt themselves being hugged tightly by the young man.

“ Mom, dad, thank the gods you came to rescue me!” The boy cried as he held them tightly. “ I don’t know what they would have done to me if you hadn’t shown up! I think I even saw my life flash before my eyes!” He continued to cry before pulling back to look his ‘parents’ in the face.

“ W-Wait,” he said suddenly as his eyes widened in surprise, he looked back and forth between Vanessa and Finral. “ What the hell?!” He shouted as he sprang back and landed flat on his butt, he pointed a finger as he looked at them.

“ W-Who the heck are you?! You look like my parents but you’re way too young to actually be my parents!” Ezio said, his voice steadily getting higher. Finral looked over at Vanessa and he could see the complete surprise on her face.

“ I thought you had a feeling this is why we were brought here?!” Finral asked her incredulously, his voice suddenly being high pitched as well, Vanessa blinked and looked over at him.

“ I did. But it’s one thing to think it and another to actually see it.” Vanessa pointed out as she shook her head, trying to clear the surprised look off her face. Finral opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it as he realized she was right, there was a difference.

“ As we already explained to you,” Marx said, addressing the pink haired boy. “ you are in the past so your parents are younger now than they were in your original time. Didn’t they explain this to you already?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“ Not really. They pretty much told me to just go through the portal, that they didn’t have much time to explain.” He said as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Julius placed a thoughtful hand under his chin, that was another common theme between the children, that their parents were rushing to send them through a portal and didn’t have time to explain. As he thought about it he noticed the boy had stood up and Vanessa had walked over to him.

“ Y’know, you really are a cutie.” She said with a small laugh, causing the boy to blush a deep shade of red.

“ C-C-Cutie?!” He stammered in surprise before she continued and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, you could tell by the look in her eyes that she was teasing him.

“ I bet you’re a real hit with the ladies, and maybe some of the guys too.” She told him before she thought about it for a moment. “ Unless you inherited your flirting skills from your father.”

“ What’s that supposed to mean?!” Finral shouted before Vanessa turned to look at him.

“ That means your flirting sucks.” She told him deadpan, causing an almost outrageously surprised look to appear of Finral’s face.

“ Excuse me?! I’ll have you know I’m an absolute hit with the ladies!” Finral began shouting in a high pitched and almost disbelieving voice, as Julius watched the interactions between them he noticed the pink haired boy began to relax and saw the slow realization that these were in fact his parents, just younger.

“ Don’t you think it’s about time you introduced yourself?” Julius asked the boy after a few minutes, the pink haired boy blushed a bit in embarrassment as he realized he hadn’t told them his name.

“ Ah yes, sorry about that.” He laughed before clearing his throat. “ My name’s Ezio Roulacase, it’s nice to meet you!” He added, giving a bit of a dramatic bow. Vanessa and Finral frowned a bit before placing thoughtful hands under their chins as they looked at him.

“ Hm, I think Ezio fits you perfectly, don’t you think Finral?” Vanessa asked as she turned to look at him, who nodded in agreement.

“ Yeah it really does fit him I think. Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, Ezio!” Finral said with a cheerful smile.

“ Now that introductions are out of the way, here are the directions to the temporary house you’ll be staying at with the others.” Marx told them before he began to explain where the house was that the others were staying at.

———

Yami pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched all the ‘families’ talk, mingle, and get to know each other outside. He had been a bit surprised when Noelle and Asta showed up with three kids and a devil, he had a small feeling that Noelle had a crush on Asta but he figured the kid was too dense to ever realize it. But as he watched Asta talking and doing a workout with his eldest daughter, while Noelle sat and talked with the two younger ones, he realized that they actually made a cute family. But then again, as he looked around at the other Black Bulls, he realized they all made cute families. Except for Zora, he and Nebra still couldn’t seem to get along. Not even for their kids sake.

“ What are you thinking about?” Yami turned at the sound of a familiar voice and smirked a bit when he saw it was Charlotte.

“ Eh nothing much, just thinking about how weird it is to see all of these kids with kids of their own.” He told her, nodding towards the younger squad members. Charlotte nodded in agreement.

“ True, it is a bit jarring to see kids with, well, kids of their own. Especially considering how some of the kids are around the same age as them.” Charlotte said, Yami nodded in agreement before the two fell into a comfortable silence for a moment.

“ Y’know,” Yami said suddenly, causing Charlotte to look at him. “ As weird as it is to see them with kids of their own and seeing how happy the mini knuckleheads are, it kind of makes me feel like I must’ve done something right as their Captain.” Yami finished as he rubbed the back of his head.

“ You’ve done a lot right as their Captain,” Charlotte told him firmly. “ I may not always agree with your methods, but I think you’re an excellent Captain. You gave those kids someone to look up too and admire, you gave them a home when they needed one, you gave them a family and friends that they can lean on and support. That’s my honest opinion.” Charlotte finished with a firm nod and a bit of a blush on her face, she couldn’t believe she said all of that too Yami!

“ Aw the Prickly Princess does have a soft side.” Yami joked, causing her to turn an even deeper shade of red.

“ O-Of course I do! Just because I don’t tend to show it very often doesn’t mean I don’t have a softer side!” She told him as she glared at him slightly.

“ Sheesh sorry I was just teasing you.” Yami said as he held his hands up in surrender, he smiled a bit before bringing one of his hands down and placing it gently onto her shoulder. “ But thank you for the compliment Princess, you’re not a bad Captain yourself.”

Charlotte blinked in surprise at Yami’s compliment, she smiled a bit as she looked down at her lap somewhat shyly. She wasn’t used to compliments let alone ones from Yami, but she had to admit it made her heart skip a beat when he acknowledged she was a good Captain too.

“ By the way,” Charlotte said after they fell into silence once again. “ you’ve been sitting here watching Alistar and Hikari for a while. What do you think of Alistar?” She added curiously as she noticed the two talking by the side of the house. She heard Yami make a disapproving grunt and she couldn’t help but chuckle.

“ I think he’s hiding something, his Ki and body language prove that. He’s been trying his best to hide, or at least mask, it from me and Hikari. But I can still tell.” Yami said as he pulled out a cigarette, Charlotte tilted her head.

“ Do you think Hikari’s noticed?”

“ Probably,” Yami said with a small nod before taking a drag of his cigarette. “ whether she’s acknowledging it or not is a different story. But I’m sure she’s noticed.” He added as he let the smoke from the cigarette out of his mouth, she noticed a protective look on his face and began to laugh softly.

“ You’re very protective of her,” she said as her soft laughter began to stop. “ but I think she’ll be fine Yami, I trust her and her judgement.” She began to laugh again when Yami blushed a bit and just grumbled under his breath.

“ It’s not just him I’m suspicious of though, I’m also suspicious of Princess Brooding Pants over there.” Yami said as he nodded towards the dark haired girl, Miku Charlotte believed her name was, and she frowned a bit as well.

The girl had completely separated herself from everyone else, even her ‘parents’. She sat underneath a tree with a book and just kept to herself. Charlotte wasn’t too surprised seeing as her parents could be the same way, but it was still a bit odd, especially when the other kids had asked her to play or train with them and she outright refused without even looking up from her book.

“ Do you think she’s hiding something as well?”

“ Oh I know she is, but it’s not like Golden Boy, while he’s actively trying to hide his Ki, she isn’t.” Yami said as he took another drag of his cigarette, Charlotte went to open her mouth when Gauche suddenly yelled.

“ Hey heads up! Incoming!” When the Captains turned and saw three people on brooms flying towards them. As they began to get into a defensive position Yami realized he recognized at least two of them.

“ It’s alright, it’s just Vanessa and Finral.” Yami said with a sigh of relief as the three people landed safely on the ground and began to walk towards them.

“ Hey Captain Yami!” Vanessa shouted happily as she waved at him and the others. “ Looks like this is where everyone ran off too huh?” She added as she looked around at all the familiar, and some unfamiliar, faces.

“ Who’s the kid?” Yami asked as he pointed at Ezio, who almost instantly paled as Yami directed his attention his way.

“ Oh, well, this is our son Ezio. Apparently he came from the future as well.” Finral explained sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“ You all need to stop having kids.” Yami muttered as he seemed to age instantly at Finral’s words. Charlotte smiled sympathetically as she patted him on the back in a vain attempt to comfort him.

“ Josslyn! My love!” Ezio suddenly shouted as his eyes landed on the pink haired girl that came walking towards him, without hesitation he ran and tried to capture her in his arms. Without missing a beat she dodged him easily, causing him to land flat on his face.

“ And here I thought I would finally get a break from you.” Josslyn said with a disappointed sigh and a shake of her head.

“ You’re so mean Joss.” Ezio cried dramatically before he turned to see Hikari walking towards him. “ Hikari! You’re here too!”

“ Hey Ezio,” She said as the pink haired boy wrapped her in a hug.

“ At least someone’s happy to see me.” He muttered as he glared at Josslyn, who only ‘hmphed’ in response.

Alistar looked around at the group of people that had gathered from his spot by the house. He began to count the children one by one, there was only meant to be 10 total but Miku suddenly showing up gave them a total of 11. He still couldn’t quite figure out how, or why, she was here. Even after speaking with her privately he didn’t get a clear answer. He let out a soft sigh before pushing himself off the side of the house and began walking towards the others. Since everyone was gathered now, it was finally time to tell them everything. As he opened his mouth suddenly a small portal opened up, a portal he recognized to be Marx’s.

“ Sorry for the sudden intrusion, and I’m sure Finral, Vanessa, and Ezio just arrived there, but we need all of you to come back to the Castle for an urgent matter.” Marx explained quickly.

“ Why? What’s going on now? I swear if you tell me it’s another kid-.” Yami growled before Marx quickly cut him off.

“ It isn’t another child! But it is someone’s parent, well, I think it’s their parent.” Marx muttered before he was suddenly pushed out of frame by someone.

“ Hello Vanessa, it’s been a while.” The Witch Queen said with a small smirk as she watched the surprise flash across everyone’s faces.

———

Thank you for reading! I hope you all have a good day 🥰!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 1 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer meets a girl he can't get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there. 

A/N: This work deals with a lot of dark themes. There will be imperfect characters, and they will make mistakes. If you are sensitive, please read each chapter's content warnings carefully and alert me if I am missing any.

This work is undergoing heavy edits. Thank you for your patience!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: NSFW, 18+ Series Content Warnings: Adults w/ Age Difference (10yr), heavy petting, drinking Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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There are many reasons to come to a nightclub. For some, it's an excuse to find someone to kill their loneliness. For others, it's a chance to escape themselves. I wasn't sure which I was more of that night. All I knew was that I was ready for something, anything to break the monotony.

The pulsing bass reverberated through the floor, and I let it take me somewhere else for a while. I let myself get lost in the crowd of other regrettable people, and I allowed my body to move on instinct, to move to the music without much thought.

It was my birthday, as evidenced by the giant sash my friends insisted on me wearing. If anyone were to ask, I had just turned 21. But, truthfully, I still had another year to go before then.

The strangest part about it was that I wasn't usually the kind of person to make a habit out of breaking the rules. At least, not anymore. But something about the last year had made me stir crazy in a way I couldn't explain.

I could've thought harder about it; I could've found a reason. But I didn't want to.

So, I said, fuck it! Everything happens for a reason, right?

The thought perfectly coincided with a pair of pensive eyes that caught my attention through the sea of people I was surrounded by. A man somehow unlike the others was leaning against the bar, seemingly alone. I thought that it was strange, considering how out of place he seemed. Surely, I thought, he must have come with someone else.

But the way he was looking at me told me that, in the very least, he probably wasn't there with a  woman. At least, I'd hoped not.

I almost went to him, but I was stopped by a familiar tapping on my shoulder. My friend was calling my attention to the suddenly relatively empty stage, and not before long she was begging me to join her on it.

I'd never been the best dancer, but I figured it was as good a way as any other to try to get a cute guy's attention. After all, that's what you do in a club, right? As I climbed up with her, I tried to spot him once more. Unfortunately, by the time I gracelessly clambered onto the stage, he'd  already moved from his previous position.

'Oh well,' I thought, 'Maybe he hadn't really been looking at me after all.'

Rather than sulking over the loss, I focused on the music again. I swayed my hips to the beat and closed my eyes. I let my hands run up and down my body the way I wished someone else's would. Not just anyone, though. Someone... different. Someone who might almost make me feel like they'd earned it.

I wondered if that strange man could still see me. I wondered if he was still looking.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when I glanced back to the bar for the fifth time in a relatively short period of time, I finally spotted him again. Once he noticed me noticing him, he quickly turned around, and I knew it was my chance.

I scrambled down off the stage, leaving my friends to enjoy themselves among the writhing bodies and blistering heat. I wanted to enjoy a different primal experience.

Strutting right up to the bar next to him, I leaned over the counter and gave a brief, respectful wave to the bartender. Despite not breaking my gaze, I felt the hairs rose on the back of my neck.

I'd caught someone's attention. I didn't look, though. Not yet.

"Gin and tonic, please," I called when the bartender finally made his way over to me. Once he turned back around to make the drink, I knew it was a good time to look over at the stranger beside me.

Unsurprisingly, he immediately pretended he wasn't looking at me.

"Are you checking me out?" I asked just loudly enough that he would undoubtedly be able to hear me over the music.

His embarrassed reaction answered the question in the affirmative, although he unconvincingly insisted, "U-uh, no. No, I'm not."

"Oh," I responded, moving closer to him to prevent someone from separating us. "That's too bad."

He furrowed his eyebrows, and a small smile broke across his face as he asked, "Is it?"

"Well... Yeah," I laughed.

The way we locked eyes was a challenge, and one he seemed to only half accept. When he looked away from my eyes, it felt less like admitting defeat and more like taking me up on the offer to check me out.

He glanced down at my chest, and I moved from my position leaning against the counter to open my chest up for a better view.

"Can you see it well enough?" I teased with a slow gesture down the sash. I couldn't tell if his face was as red as it looked or if it was just the flashing lights playing tricks on me.

The bartender returned before he answered, and I handed him my change as a tip before holding the drink with my hand over the top. I might have been young, but I wasn't trying to get drugged in a club. I tried not to read into him noticing that habit.

"Happy birthday."

His offering seemed genuine, and this time, it was my face that turned burned. I hoped he didn't notice how flustered such an innocent thing made me, but I had a feeling he did.

"How old are you now?" he followed up, and I realized that I didn't really want him to know. Not the truth, anyway. Still, something about the way his eyes scanned every motion I made just made me feel like he could tell if I was lying.

"A year older than the last."

It wasn't a lie, after all, and he seemed to think it was funny. Behind me, a person was struggling to fit into the crowd at the bar. The somewhat unwelcome result was pushing me closer to the stranger I was quickly becoming acquainted with. But thankfully, when he reached out, he did so respectfully. His grip on my arm was gentle, but enough to stabilize my obviously struggling self.

"Thanks," I said with a bit of a laugh, trying not to seem dramatically inexperienced at this scene. "I'm not used to wearing heels."

He seemed so comfortable despite the chaos. So paradoxically confident yet timid.

"What's your name?" I asked, and he was more than happy to respond.

"Dr. Spencer Reid."

Something was so charming about the way he kept his honorific, which would usually have been irritating. He didn't seem to want to brag about it. He'd just announced it like it was a deeply ingrained aspect of his identity.

"Doctor? You seem pretty young for that," I playfully noted. Not that I was bothered by the prospect of an older man. I sipped on my drink as I waited for a bit of clarification, and his eyes continued to flit back to my lips every couple of syllables.

"Well, if you're talking about a Doctor of Medicine, I'm 30, which is actually the average age a person would be when they complete their residency. But most people with MDs will call themselves doctors after they graduate, so really, I wouldn't be too young at all."

I nodded along as he spoke, wondering if this kind of information dump was common for him. It was... kind of endearing.

Before I could get a word in edgewise, he continued to clarify, "But I'm not that kind of doctor. I have three PhDs; mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. I also have a BA in psychology as well as sociology."

I waited another second to make sure he was finished, and also because I was suddenly feeling quite intimidated. His strange socialization method made sense with his PhD subjects, and the bachelor's explained why he was so observant.

Something told me he didn't need to be told he was impressive.

"What about you? What's your name?" he finally asked, and I realized I never told him my name.

"(Y/n). No honorifics, unfortunately. Not yet."

"(Y/n)," he smiled, repeating it back to me and adding, "It's a nice name."

Uncomfortable talking about myself in light of the foregoing, I opted for a different topic.

"You don't seem like this is your first time in a club."

"Yeah, it's not. I have to go to them occasionally for work. I also grew up in Vegas, so they were kind of... everywhere," he chuckled.

When he raised his glass to his lips, I noticed that the distinct lack of color to his. I didn't mention it. There were so many reasons someone would prefer water, assuming that's what it was, including the basic desire to not be hung over the next day.

"What kind of work regularly takes you to a nightclub?"

I was genuinely curious, but I wouldn't get the answer. At the same time I asked the question, I felt a very strong pressure digging into my arm and yanking me away from the bar.

"Hey there beautiful, why'd you leave the dance floor?"

I didn't even recognize the very drunk man slurring the question to me. He looked like every other generic, idiotic brute that I had encountered through the night.

"Because I don't want to fucking dance with you," I answered as matter-of-factly as I could while seeing nothing but white-hot rage. 

I could see Spencer's demeanor change, like he was about to do something. I shot him a warning glance that this was not his fight, and was pleasantly surprised that he'd respected it. I had gotten quite comfortable with this part of being out on the town.

"Come on, don't be like that," the man barked.

I pulled my arm away. Half of my drink sloshed onto the sticky floor below, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to be drinking it now, anyway.

"I said no," I said in a much louder voice, lifting my foot high enough for it to hurt when I drove the pointed heel directly into his foot. "And don't fucking touch me!"

Before I could throw what was left of my drink onto the asshole, I felt Spencer's much gentler touch. His arm wrapped around my waist as he stepped between me and the man and hurriedly guided me away from the guy and to a nearby table. As soon as I could reach it, I climbed onto a chair at the high top, rubbing my arm where it had begun to raise in welts from his nails.

"What a fucking dick!" I yelled, still fuming from the unwelcome contact.

In stark contrast, Spencer's very warm hand cupped my face, tilting it to look up at him.

"Are you alright?"

It felt like time stopped when he looked at me. Like the earth had halted in its tracks. My perception of the otherwise energetic music seemed to slow down, and the sounds of the crowd drowned away. I wasn't able to focus on anything other than the pounding of my heart and that tried to break through bone cages to find him.

'God, I must be drunk.'

"Hey, are you okay?" he repeated, and I finally snapped back to reality.

With a simple nod, I was suddenly no longer angry at the asshole who had caused the moment to happen.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "Thanks."

"Does that happen to you often?" he asked with a strange mixture of concerned and angry that honestly looked pretty damn attractive on him.

"Unfortunately. Most guys don't like being told they aren't your type. Especially if they aren't used to it."

"I wouldn't know," Spencer shrugged with a gentle laugh, "I'm pretty used to it."

A welcome bit of self-deprecating humor. He moved his hand, and I hated to admit that I'd already missed the warmth of it.

"Well, I don't know why you're used to it. I think you're pretty cute."

The statement was fueled by the alcohol, but it was still true. He wasn't joking about being used to a lack of desire. Seconds after I'd complimented him, he shifted uncomfortably. I tried not to read too far into it. I hoped it was how he would've responded to anyone. 

"Thanks..." he started, shoving his hands in his pockets as he struggled to find something to do with them now that they weren't touching me. "But I feel like an asshole now."

I raised my eyebrows and chuckled at the strange response to a compliment.

"Why?"

"I uh, I lied to you earlier."

My attention piqued, I turned my body towards him and leaned forward to hear him better.

"Oh? To which question?"

He released a hand from his pocket, running it through his hair as he worked up the courage to look at me while he spoke.

"The... first one you asked."

I couldn't help but laugh. All of the air in my lungs was quickly drained by his absolutely endearing honesty. The way he just had to admit that he had been checking me out, as if I didn't already know.

"You are absolutely adorable, Spencer Reid."

He reacted much better to that compliment, although he seemed confused when I held my hand out for his.

"Come here," I instructed.

When he didn't listen, I reached my fingers out to grab his forearm and proceeded to tug him towards me. He took the few steps forward, and I took a moment to appreciate that his height granted me perfect access to his face from the high top.

I bit down on my lip as I glanced between beautiful eyes and his lips that parted softly. I heard his breath come faster the closer I came.

Without moving away, he asked, "What are you doing?"

While wondering if it was possible for him to do anything without being charming, I tightened my grip on his arm and looked up at him with the most lustful look I could muster.

"Well, I guess I'm going to kiss you. I hope that's alright."

"Why?" he asked.

An equally charming and maddening response, to which I just gave a small shrug. His eyes glanced back and forth, clearing trying to read between the lines of my own gaze. I let him. He didn't seem to have any follow up questions or reservations, so I used my free hand to pull his face to mine.

When our lips met, I was transported back to the dance floor in my mind. I could feel the vibrations shaking every inch of the club, but it was nothing compared to the butterflies erupting in my stomach. His hands returned to my face shortly after, and when his tongue slipped into my mouth it was the only confirmation that I got that he had also been drinking.

The taste of vodka and gin mixed, creating a cocktail of alcohol and hormones between us. A small moan escaped my lips at the thought, and part of me hoped he could feel it distinct from the bass. I wanted him to know the effect he had on me. Because, as it turned out, he wasn't just cute and smart, he was an incredibly talented kisser.

Not wanting to stop yet, I hooked a leg around the back of his knee and increased my hold on him. He lowered a hand to grab onto my thigh, and I gasped at the contact. I wondered if this was his first time making out in a club, because it was certainly mine.

Selfishly, I hoped I could be a first of something for him. Realistically, I knew it was unlikely. He was just too damn good at this.

Spencer began to retreat from the kiss, and before he could leave entirely, I bit down on his lower lip. The last, lingering contact seemed to have its desired effect, as he looked down at me like there was nothing else that he wanted more in this world than to keep kissing me.

"Was that a good enough reason?" I asked.

Instead of using words, he just kissed me again in response, with more pressure and less reserved. It was an answer I was more than happy to accept. His grip on my leg tightened, and it was nothing like the way other men grabbed me. When we broke apart this time, I knew it was time. I had to make my move.

"Come outside with me," I begged. 

He seemed not to have expected any invitation, especially such a vague one. Nonetheless, he nodded and stepped back enough to let me hop out of the chair. His hand in mine, I led him through the crowd. He never let go. Not even when we got outside.

The air felt cool and crisp in comparison to the stuffy club. My ears were still ringing, and I wondered if we would sound the same to each other now that we weren't practically screaming. I let out a laugh from pure nerves, excited to be alone with him, but also not really ready to have this conversation.

Of course, he thought I was cute, but I was still a stranger. What if he wasn't actually all that interested and decided to ditch me? That would be embarrassing.

"Heeeeyyy! (Y/n)! How's it going?!" A familiar voice sounded from over by the smokers.

It wasn't one of my friends, per se. More like a friend of a friend. A very drunk and very excited acquaintance. I finally let go of Spencer's hand but glanced back to let him know to follow me over.

I stayed at a  modest distance as I called back, "Hey, how's it going, John?"

"Goin' pretty fucking great," he slurred, and I laughed at how hammered he had managed to get in a couple of hours.

"Sounds like it."

"So, how's 20 treating you so far?"

Now, this is the point where I have to admit to myself and everyone else, that I am not the cleverest person. Because the question seemed so normal, and I was expecting it so much, that I seemed to have forgotten that I was not, in fact, old enough to be at this club.

So, without thinking, I responded, "Pretty fucking great."

To Spencer's credit, he didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull. It took me another second to realize what I had just admitted.

Fuck.

I was too scared to turn around. He seemed to know that I wasn't going to address it, and he wasn't the kind of person to make a scene. So when his hand grabbed mine again, and I felt the insistence in his grasp, I knew that I was utterly and completely fucked.

I grimaced to John, who just burst out laughing before yelling, "Oooh, jailbait got busted!"

My head fell backwards as I groaned, letting Spencer begin to drag me away from the crowd as I shouted back, "I'm not jailbait, you dick!"

Following the boy I actually wanted to be with, I tried not to give up hope yet. In a twisted sort of way, I was actually somehow looking forward to the lecture I was definitely about to receive. Seconds after we'd turned the corner into the small alley, he had me backed against a wall.

"What the fuck was that?!" his voice was hushed, although he was clearly still yelling.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing at his attempts to be scary when his voice was still cracking. I raised my shoulders to shrug, but he continued his ranting.

"You're only twenty?! You can't be here!"

"Well, actually, we're in an alley, which I'm totally allowed to be in."

He did not appreciate my humor.

"You know exactly what I mean. You're not old enough to be at a club, and especially not drinking! What were you thinking?"

He looked so delectable when he was angry, I wasn't sure how he'd expected me to take him seriously. Resting my head against the brick wall behind me, I looked up at him with a bored expression.

"What are you, a cop?"

I honestly wasn't anticipating a genuine response, so when he responded, "An FBI special agent, actually," all I could think was, "Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, really, (y/n)!" he yelled back, taking a step back when my arms immediately fell from their defensive position.

"That's so cool!" I answered with equal enthusiasm, which he still, clearly, did not like.

"What are you saying? That is not cool! None of this is cool!"

"I mean, I think it's pretty cool."

"I could have you arrested! I should have you arrested!"

The way I raised my eyebrows and smiled was clearly not the reaction he wanted, but I could tell he was intrigued by it. He paused, and I licked my lips with a wicked grin.

"You gonna cuff me, Special Agent?"

I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and he continued to distance himself from me. I took a step forward to maintain the gap.

"Wait, is it Special Agent or Doctor? I need to know now."

Before I could get too close to him, he had pressed his hand against my shoulder, pushing me back against the wall. 

"Cut it out! Stop trying to distract me," his voice was stern, but his breath was ragged. One of my hands devilishly snuck up, wrapping around his arm that was holding me against the wall. "It's not going to work," he warned.

I didn't believe him. I could also tell that, despite the words, he did not want me to stop.

"How am I distracting you, Special Agent Dr. Reid?"

He could tell what I was doing, but he couldn't stop himself from falling for it.

"Is my proximity distracting you?"

I was pushing his buttons, very purposefully and with a very specific goal. I wanted to see what happened when he broke.

"N-No, that's not—"

I cut him off once more, leaning forward against his hand, dragging my nails against the skin of his arm.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" I asked.

He had to think about the answer, and that angry, tempted face left me burning. I rubbed my legs together in anticipation, and he seemed to notice the subtle movement. With the strength I could muster, I inched his hand against my shoulder lower, letting him feel my heart racing above my breast.

"You do," I responded to my own question, recognizing his silence as assent.

I met his eyes in another challenge, knowing this time would be much easier than the last. He was already hooked.

"Well then, Dr. Reid. You have at least two options. You can either dig out your work issued handcuffs, haul me downtown and explain what exactly happened between you and a drunk twenty year old girl at the club..." the pressure on my chest lessened as he obviously considered what it would require of him. "You can help them with all of the paperwork, prematurely ending the night, leaving me in a jail, and go home alone... "

The compassion in his eyes was clear, and I knew it was a bit unfair of me to go for such low hanging fruit. He was a good man. He was just trying to follow the rules. He didn't want to hurt me. Unless I asked for it, perhaps.

"Or you can get into an Uber with me to go somewhere else, and I'll let you do whatever you want with mine. Or yours. I'm fine with either."

"My pair, or my place?" he asked, much to my surprise and excitement. I could feel the rush of blood in my ears, but I begged it to be quiet. I hadn't closed the deal yet.

"So you're considering it?"

He finally released his hold on me, but he didn't move away. In fact, he moved closer. Close enough to me that I could almost feel the body warmth radiating from him. I couldn't look down yet, but I was pretty sure what I'd find bulging between his legs.

"I-I... I don't know."

An honest answer, albeit disappointing. My puppy eyes demanded a clearer one. He obeyed their call.

"I'm a law enforcement agent that just caught you in a crime, since I'm assuming you got into that club with a relatively convincing fake ID that I'm certain you still have on you."

I nodded, still unsure where he was going with this monologue.

"I should be arresting you, or at least taking you somewhere safe, not... coming back with you for..."

He trailed off, and I smirked a bit at his inability to finish that thought.

"And yeah, I figured you were young but... I'm ten years older than you."

"And?" I finally asked, wanting him to get to the point that I had figured out, just so I could turn it down.

Spencer took a deep breath before admitting, "I don't want to take advantage of you. I get that there is no sudden change in your brain when you turn twenty one, but the younger you are, the less developed your prefrontal cortex is. Your judgment, your impulse control, the ability to truly anticipate the consequences of your actions, that won't be fully developed for at least another five years!"

He would have kept going, but I had already planned for this response. My hand on his arm jerked him forward, pulling his crotch directly into my other waiting hand. Completely on brand for him, a small yelp sounded as I gently palmed his erection.

With an innocent smile, I whispered, "Dr. Reid, I don't think you're the one taking advantage here."

His features were contorted into an infuriated, yet pleased mess. After another very brief moment of contemplation, he gave into the temptation I was dangling in front of him, laying a deep, frustrated kiss on my waiting mouth.

When we separated, he practically panted into my mouth, "Do you have a hotel room?"

Giggling, I nodded.

"I guess I'll call that Uber now."

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| Part 2 |