#Im being literal here Im making bread

[abyssal-cryptid]

"That'll be our Gerard" GOD THIS LINE IT MAKES ME TEAR UP. THE TENDERNESS JON SAYS IT WITH!!

I love this episode I hate Jurgen Leitner. That one rant you know it rings in my head as I listen to him talking about himself. Dumb bitch. I hate him. Arrogant rich fuck. Careless rotten bastard ruining lives.

You can tell he doesnt want to talk but he is in the Eye's domain. Is his desire to obtain the books and arrogance to research them linking him with the Eye. The knowledge you seek destroying everything you hold dear etc etc etc.

"These powers, what are they?" HE IS LEARNING ABOUT THE ENTITIES FINALLY!!!!

It's so wildly chilling to hear even knowing about them. The ant analogy. God its so good and fitting. This episode man. Jon is getting it fast he draws from the Eye here Ive decided so.

"Did you kill Gertrude"

"No"

"Then who did"

"I believe it was Elias"

"This place belongs to one of them doesnt it. The Eye"

"You belong to it too"

THIS DIALOGUE. HE IS FINALLY GETTING IT. The terror of realising all that. The panic. The need to flee.

And enter Elias Bouchard. Evil little bastard. Has been watching I know he has been watching. Or trying to. The voice actor does such a good job of sounding evil. Slimy evil little rat I love him.

[Extended sounds of brutal pipe murder]

[seventh-district]

tfw u finally go to make urself a dinner plate and some nasty ass man walks into the kitchen, picks up the entire serving bowl of creamed corn and puts his filthy mouth on the bowl like it’s a giant cup and tilts it straight in. multiple times. 🙃

[hecksupremechips]

Had a very bad day Gotta eat gravel

[belovedivies]

Hello love , how are you? I dont know if you take request but listen....OBSESSED STALKER ALIPEDE? Like he enters her room in the middle of night just to listen to her breathing or her heartbeats (and they know each other)

anything about this blind tsundere albino PLEEEAAASEEE I LOVE THIS MAN

a/n: literally him. anyway, i’m doing good, anon!! i might start taking req from now since im 90% done with all the ideas i wanna squeeze out first. here’s some good ol’ stalker!alipede hcs for ya <3 cw: stalking, yandere content, emotional manipulation, trespassing, spoiler for johan’s past.

m.list

stalker!alipede who memorized all of your routines and habits by heart, months before you two even talked. he couldn’t help but indulged; you were too kind! slipped in extra bread when you thought he was distracted, chastised his bullies, cleaned the dirt on his desk. his perfect guardian angel.

stalker!alipede who didn’t mind letting you play with his dear rabbit. you fed it well and cared for the creature when the albino wasn’t there. he lurked around and observed, but you eventually caught him! blushing and furiously apologizing for daring to touch his pet. you didn’t just make a friend then, you fueled his undying obsession.

stalker!alipede who murdered his tormentors with bare hands on that stormy night, blood all over his body and a sadistic smile on his pretty face. yet the second you barged in with a teacher, he was on his knees weeping; clinging to your shirt. you wouldn’t call your precious Ali a monster, would you? they wronged him first, he was only trying to defend himself! even hours later underneath layers of blanket with a fresh set of clothes, alipede’s body was freezing. he clung to you and gripped too tightly, pressing your limbs together until there was nothing in between. he counted each and every of your breath and heartbeat. he desperately needed to become one with you.

stalker!alipede who, years later, was over the moon when he managed to track you down in korea. it was his turn to give. you ran a small coffee shop at the end of the street that was doing well. alipede camped in attic above, making space between the dusty equipments and sun damage posters. you were down there just a floor away, standing behind the counter and greeting your customers with a big smile. he kept tabs on people coming in too. the girl who fussed for her order. the little brat who kept hitting on you. the office loser who begged for a pastry sample, trying to grab the chance to leer down at your shirt. he wanted all of them dead.

stalker!alipede who followed you home after dawn after you finished up for the day, your hands trembling as the feeling of being watched resurfaced. poor girl, no one knew why the security cameras in your apartment complex had been malfunctioning for weeks. he was just looking out for you, nothing creepy about that! it didn’t even take more than five seconds for him to figure out the passcode, entering your cozy home through the front door. you’re already out like a log anyways.

stalker!alipede who caressed your hair, ghosting his fingers over your face once he was inside your bedroom, lying on the mattress next to you. why must you torture yourself so? you could be his wife by now! it was only ever you and no one else. he pulled you in again like those good ol’ times. and the albino was right; you were still the same girl whom he fell in love with. with your breath and heartbeat against his ears, sleep claimed him. by daylight, he would whip you away.

[dabuggh3]

Literally so random I remembered when I watched one of Hamzah’s old streams and he said he loves being shirtless in the kitchen with his alexa 😭so that’s what kinda inspired this. ENJOY!! ALSO THANK U FOR 140 FOLLOWERS 😞 I love you guys ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Weekend with Hamzah ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

You and Hamzah haven’t been able to see each other since you both were so busy, you were busy with work and he was moving into a new place. And finally after Hamzah settled in, he invited you to come and stay over. You pack your bags for the weekend and some extra essentials you wanted to keep at Hamzah’s.

It’s Friday night and you arrive at his apartment, walking up the stairs and knocking . Not even 2 minutes pass when the door opens and you see Hamzah, grinning . “Hi babyy” he pulls you in through the front door, giving you a hug kissing your cheek. “ Hiii babee” you say hugging him tighter. “Show me around!!” you say excited.

Hamzah gives you a tour of the whole apartment, showing you how much bigger his kitchen is, his patreon corner, his bedroom ect. “ Yea that’s all” he says sitting on the edge of his bed turning to look at you, “I love it”. You put on your pajama’s and put away extra clothes and essentials in a drawer in Hamzah’s bedroom and bathroom that he saved for you.

Hamzah peeks into the bathroom,“ Do you wanna order in food?” “ Yesss let’s get Chick-fil-A”. The food comes and you guys eat it on the couch while watching Tangled. The movie ends and Hamzah starts singing “ Somethingggguuh that I wannnt” he gets up grabbing Red and making him dance. While you grab Blue making him do the same thing.

You wake up with the sun hitting your face and Hamzah clinging onto you. You turn facing Hamzah, who’s dead asleep. You can’t help but stare admiring, his chest slowly rising up and down ,his long lashes, the mole above his lip. You give him a peck on his lips before you get up to wash your teeth.

You come out the restroom and see Hamzah still half asleep sitting shirtless on the edge of the bed facing you as he rubs his eyes. He looks up at you, “ Why did you brush your teeth without me” he says in a low sleepy tone. You can’t help but smile seeing how cute he looks. “ I’m sorry“ you walk towards him wrapping your arms around his neck. He hugs your waist and lays back, having you lay on his chest. Then he turns now laying on top of you.

You guys lay there for a little, “ Go brush your teeth babe”, all you get in response is a grunt. “ Cmonn, I’ll go with you?” “Okay!” Hamzah says smiling, immediately getting up. You look at him grinning shaking your head as he grabs your hand taking you with him. He finishes and you both head to the kitchen.

Hamzah walks in opening the fridge asking what you wanted to eat. You both end up agreeing on French Toast. You guys play music as you both gather the ingredients and start cooking. You dip the bread into the mixture as Hamzah cooks and flips them.

North by Clario starts playing and Hamzah looks at you while singing. He grabs you and starts swaying and dancing with you. You both are grinning and laughing. “Oh shittt” Hamzah says as he turns, flipping over the burnt piece of toast, “ I’ll eat this one” he says scrunching his nose clenching his teeth, you both laugh. You both eat and get ready to go run errands.

After a long day you guys come back home and rest. You and Hamzah sit on the couch in your matching pajamas playing Fortnite. “ Wait I think I see someone” “ Where?”. Someone comes up from the hill and attacks you. “ HAMZAHHHHH” “ WHEREEE OH I SE-IM COMING IM COMING”. Hamzah comes and starts attacking them while your character is on the ground “ LEAVE MY GIRLFRIEND ALONEEE AUGHHH”

He ends up killing them and he runs back to revive your character, “ Don’t worry baby daddy’s here” he says in a cocky tone and turns smirking at you. “ Never mind let me die” you say side eyeing him holding in your laugh. You guys continue playing till you both get tired and head off to bed.

The next morning you guys wake up and eat breakfast. You pack your bags to go back home. Hamzah helps collect your things and walks you out to your car. He places your things in the car and you turn around, seeing his eyebrows scrunched and eyes squinted as the sun beams on his face. “ I’ll see you next weekend okay” you lean, giving him a kiss. “ Okay” he says trying not to seem bothered. “ Okay byee mr nonchalant” you say poking his stomach. He flinches then smiles.

You walk over getting into your car ready to drive off. Hamzah follows, closing your door then leaning on your car door. Hamzah just stares at you not leaning away from your car. “Stopppp I’ll be backkk, if anything you can come and stay over!” “ I knowww…okay bye before I pull you out of the car and make you stay” “ I mean I wouldn’t refuse……” you say looking up at him. Hamzah squints his eyes and smiles “ ….Okay byeee I love you” “ Byeee I love you more”.

Sorry for not posting I was on vacation and then got sad but I’m okay now I missed you guys. I tried writing a longer story this time I feel like my ff are always short😭 I don’t hate it tho but I hope you guys will like the kinda long ones too. And like always sorry for any typos.☕️

Your matching pjs😍😍😍 ( lmaoooo I laughed so

hard when I found this)

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi hana! congrats on 2k followers once again and if it’s not too much of a bother, i’d like to have a mikey fluff/crack “oblivious best friends” & “stuck together” scenario/hc (whichever works for you) where it was after school hours and everyone in toman is looking for mikey ☺️ i really hope this combination is something new skjdjsjss thank you in advance!! 💕

—manjiro [mikey] sano // oblivious best friends // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ KATIEEE hiiii im sryyy i took sooooo long for this my disappearance from tumblr messed things up 😔 idk how i did on this tbh !! i hope youve been doing well !! and also ur idea was so cutee wahh i hope i did it justice !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“...mikey.” 

“yeah?” 

“how long are we gonna stay here?” the boy in front of you hummed, thinking for a moment as he swirled the lollipop in his mouth. 

“until they find us.” you sighed at him, leaning your head back against the wall. you could hear rapid footsteps in the hallway, people running around yelling mikey’s name, unaware of the fact that he was sitting in the classroom they just passed by. 

he hadn’t given you much explanation when he grabbed you and pulled you into the classroom, though you think you have a basic idea of what was going on; all you could say was, it was very mikey.

“so, what exactly is the point in hiding from everyone?” 

“it’s funny!” he grinned, crunching down on his lollipop. “but also ‘cause the doors in this classroom are broken; they only open from the outside, so i’ve been waiting for someone to come by and open them from the outside.”

“huh?! why’d you drag me in here then? wait, how did you even do that?” 

“i dunno, but i just saw you and it was boring here by myself.” he shrugged, not seeming to think it was a big deal. “aaand you’ve skipped out on the last couple of meetings, so i missed you.” he pouted, a childish look on his face. “where were you?!” 

“mikey, i told you weeks ago that i would be busy studying for exams…don’t you remember?” you sighed. “i even texted you before all the meetings that i wouldn’t be coming!” 

“whatever.” mikey said flippantly, the same pout still on his face. “you owe me snacks for not showing up.” 

“okay, okay, just stop making that face.” you said, pulling at mikey’s cheeks. “you’re making me look like a bad person.”

“oi, stahppp, it hurtsss!” he grumbled. you eventually relented, sighing as you looked around the classroom. 

“even being here with someone else is boring. can’t we just leave and go get food?” 

“but i’m testing them! they have to know how to find their leader!” mikey insisted, crossing his arms. 

“but you’re literally hiding from them on purpose. how are they supposed to find you?” 

“they can figure that out themselves!” 

“right…” you answered, giving up on trying to make him see reason. you really were hungry; you hadn’t eaten since you had that milk bread from lunch, which wasn’t a whole lot of food. “if you’re insisting on keeping us here, then you’re gonna pay for my meal after this.” 

“ken-chin will pay for it, but okay!” 

“no, you’re going to pay for it. i don’t care if you’re broke; you deserve to have no money for keeping me here.” 

“hey, that’s so mean!” 

“yeah, and you’re being mean right now by not letting us go so i can eat. i ought to just-” you stood up from where the two of you were sitting to avoid being seen, “-let them see me and then tell them where you are!” mikey’s eyes widened, motioning for you to sit back down, but you stood firm, not moving from your spot. 

“oi, sit down! they have to find me on their own!” 

“no! this is ridiculous! i’m hungry and i shouldn’t have to be kept at school any longer-agh!” while you were talking, mikey grabbed your hand, pulling you down with a surprising amount of strength, making you lose your balance and topple over. 

“urgh, what the hell-...” you suddenly cut off your words when you realized the position you were in. 

because mikey had been sitting right next to your standing form, you had fallen right on top of him, the space between your faces being very small as the two of you stared at each other. the space between your bodies was even less, and you swore that he could feel your quickening heartbeat from how close the two of you were, (you didn’t even want to think about how you could feel the warmth from his body right now). 

you knew that you should probably be clambering off of him right now and bonking him on the head for pulling you down so hard, but for some reason, your body was frozen, not knowing what to do. on the one hand, you knew you probably shouldn’t be staying here for so long, but on the other hand, you wanted him to do or say something, anything, to make you think that he wasn’t just an oblivious teenage boy, (how could he have not noticed your feelings this whole time?!)

“(y/n)...” he whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks due to your close proximity. 

“y-yeah?” 

“can you get off? you’re kinda heavy.” at his words, you immediately scrambled off of him, your heart beating a million beats per minute, this time due to embarrassment. as soon as he got up, you slapped the back of his head, making him yell a loud ‘ow!’. 

“that’s what you get for pulling me so hard, asshole! i don’t get why you’re so adamant about staying here!” you yelled, feeling more shame and embarrassment than anger. you leaned your head back against the wall, wondering why you thought that anything would be different this time. 

it’s not normal for best friends to have feelings for each other, so why were you mad at him? 

this time, you felt the silence between the two of you to be unbearable, almost enough to make you scream with frustration. you didn’t though, instead choosing to just have your own internal monologue until you could make it out of the classroom. 

“(y/n)-chan? what’s wrong?” 

“nothing, i’m just tired as fuck. wake me up when we get found or whatever.” you murmured, laying down on the floor, not caring about the dust and first getting on your uniform. maybe if you laid down like this, the earth would swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment. 

you weren’t sure how much time passed like that, though you were sure that the silence filled the room for quite a while, only being interrupted by draken and takemichi’s yells in the hallway. suddenly, you heard some shuffling, wondering if maybe mikey was going to give up and let the two of you finally be found. 

you’d already gone too long pretending to be asleep, so even though you wanted to see what mikey was doing, you didn’t make a peep even when you could feel him getting closer to you. 

what is he doing? 

your question was answered just a moment later when you felt his hand on your cheek, brushing some of your hair out of your face, (you were hoping that your cheeks weren’t getting flushed right about now). 

“hm, i was able to hold back this time, but you really test me sometimes, (y/n).” after that, you felt his hand pull away, leaving you in much more confusion than before. what in the world was he talking about? 

a few minutes later, you heard him opening the window to the classroom, yelling for draken. when he arrived, he started chewing mikey out for disappearing for so long, which was when you decided to ‘wake up’. 

“hmm, you finally decided to give up that little stunt, mikey?” you asked, standing up and rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you were actually sleeping. “took you long enough.” 

“it got more boring sitting there since you fell asleep.” mikey answered, shrugging his shoulders. he kept the same lighthearted expression on his face as he started to get another earful from draken.

“you did this on purpose?! we’ve got stuff to do!!” he yelled, his face twisted in frustration. “it’s been a whole goddamn hour!!” 

“sorry, sorry.” 

you walked away from the two over to the door, trying to open it just to see. much to your surprise, it opened up, not showing any sign of the locked issue that mikey had claimed it’d had earlier. 

when you looked over at him, all he did was shrug, a smug smirk on his face. 

“you little shit! it was open this whole time?! i’m gonna actually kill you this time!!” you yelled, running at mikey. he swiftly dodged you and went out the door behind you, running into the hallway to get away from you. 

“catch me if you can!!” you heard him tease in the distance, fueling your anger even more. 

“when i catch you, it’s so over for you!!” you shouted, sprinting out of the classroom after him. 

as you chased him, he looked back at you, laughing and saying something that you couldn’t catch. despite the fact that you were acting so mad at him right now, you couldn’t help but admire how the light from the sunset reflected off of his skin, highlighting his playful smile and blonde locks bouncing in the air. 

you supposed that this was fine, for now. 

(mikey ended up paying for your entire meal out of his own pocket, leaving him with 200 yen to his name).

[ifyoucandaniel]

once again nobody asked, but here is a comprehensive list of my favorite shorter Batman fics. my other list was mostly fics 50k and up, so this will be under 50k and oneshots :) i feel like most people have probably read a majority of these but! i love them all so much so here they are

In Love With Justice and Battling in the Wings by Jedi_olympian, 9k, 10k, T. literally who would i be if i didn't include my day one, my bbg: the justice league recruits nightwing and meets the batfam <3

Two Against the World by carolinaa, 36k, T, completed. i reread this all the time :') this is a "tim joins the batfam a little differently" fic as well as a "tim gets an emotional support dog and dick grayson won't leave the lonely kid next door alone" fic <3

Museum Mishap by prettymisskitty, 38k, T, completed. I love smart little stalker tim joining the fam in fun ways! jason and tim get kidnapped after jason tries to figure out if this scrawny jumpy kid knows batman and robins secret identities. shenanigans ensue

Jason Todd's terrible, horrible, no-good very bad week by slenderboo, 18k, T, completed. this is another one im sure everyone has read but!! it's my bbg!! hurt jason with some big brother nightwing and concerned little brothers AND its a batfam meets the justice league fic? say less.

Say Uncle by megaerakles, 46k, T, complete. this is so fun and i actually laughed so hard at jason having legal custody of tim at 19 by accident. "teen dad(?)" this is basically tim's fake uncle AU but he hires jason to be his uncle until he can figure out how to get him to go home to the bats <3

Doc Harley by starknjarvis, 15k, G, completed. this!! i love harley being friends with the bats sooo much and her slowly therapy-ing them all is so very good and perfect. harley and dick deserve to be best friends

Dangerous and Noble Things by Destiny919, 45k, T, completed. this one reminds me of hand in unloveable hand by britishparty, and in this one tim is abducted by ra's and then years later the batfam finds out and they bring him home :) cass and tim are a package deal, do not separate!! so good and i love robin jason so very much

Savior(s) of the broken by epistemology, 13k, T. this is just some good ol' jason and dick becoming brothers again and jason slowly getting to know his siblings again <3 the end maybe made me cry just a little... right in the brother feels

Living Dead Boy by terranpheum, 22k, T, completed. im actually rereading this right now! this is where tim is there when jason digs his way out of his grave and takes him home to rehabilitate him by making him play scrabble and eat with him :) so cute and very good

Even if I'm Erased by Darkness, I Will Definitely Save You by Kirazalea, 7k, T. okay so i LOVE battison fics especially ones that include dick and this one is from selina's pov so this is my bread and butter. if anyone has more battison fics send them to me i feel like ive been through the whole tag.....

of crime lords and literature by adelfie, 23k, T, completed. everyone loves some jason begrudgingly becoming protective of tim and the two of them bonding over hamlet. whats not to like :p

Juneberries by michaberry, 68k, M, completed. tim gets kidnapped and psychologically tortured while damian wrestles with his own demons and tries to bring his brother home :’) tim and damian learning how to be brothers and realizing they would do anything for their family is just <33

Robin is Magic by flames_dance, 15k, T, completed. the way my heart actually dropped to my ass when jason found out who tim was, you had to be there... very good jason and tim bonding with a side of trauma from titans tower <3

Around Red Hood's Barn by Tori1116, 24k, T, completed. jayroy where roy doesn't realize his crush red hood and his hooligan neighbor jay are one and the same and keeps ranting to his buddy hood about how annoying his neighbor is. single dad roy x jason wanting his brothers to leave him alone and stop causing misunderstandings <3

the butlers neighbor by deargalileo, 16k, G, completed. okay i almost never see fics from alfreds pov and this is even better because its alfred adopting tim into the family while bruce and jason are just in the background accepting they have another kid. 10/10 very cute bonding between alfred and tim

lashed with riot-red and black by lux_et_astra, 16k, T. yet another tim and jason becoming brothers fic <3 they start writing notes through their windows and become friends :) i think i’ve read every fic under the tim drake joins the batfam early tag

Panic Room by envysparkler, 15k, T, completed. jason being locked in a room with his trigger while actively trying not to kill him and then getting locked in a room with TWO of his triggers is insane lmao. i love damian in this actually :’) that boy needs so much love

also i realized again that these are mostly tim & jason centric so i’m very sorry damian, dick, duke, cass, babs, and steph, i do have fics for them i promise i just have so many tim and jason ones…. pls send recs for other batfam member focused fics!! <3 i feel like that tiktok that’s like I GOT LOVE FOR YOU TOO KEVIN but for the entire batfam because i just have 900 jason and tim centric fics 😭

[kaisfruit]

Hi! how's your day going?

I'd like to request the ninja from Ninjago and an older sibling reader if that alright? You know just cute fluffy days with siblings.

Ninjago Older Sibling!Reader Headcanons <3

A/N; Ahhh hi!!! my day is good ty <3 tysm for this ask this is so cute 🥺🥺 i hope u dont mind hcs, but if u do feel free to ask again and i'll gladly make smthn longer :] jus thought hcs fit the vibe

warnings; none! just fluff <3

Kai and Nya

Absolutely the most chaotic sibling trio

Nya constantly getting upset with you and Kai for playing the "i'm the older sibling" card

Nya: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS DIDN'T SAVE A PIECE FOR ME?

You and Kai: older siblings get cake first that's just the rule. sorry <33

But Kai gets just as upset as she does when you do it to him

You guys all love each other though so it's okay

Just the vibes of being their older sibling would be the most competitive basic sibling rivalry type stuff yk

Lloyd

Constantly doting over him

You might as well be his parental figure since MISAKO AND GARMADON WERE THE WORSTTTTT

You and Kai take turns mother henning him

You and Kai are bffs btw like. I don't make the rules. Kai is just his adoptive older brother in my head, so you two bond over caring for Lloyd

Definitely his comfort person after a long day <3

You're the one Lloyd trusts the most in his life and he isn't scared to tell you his fears because, despite any assumed sibling teasing, he knows you'll take him seriously on that regard

Jay

You guys make annoying each other a full time job

Constantly fighting over who the favorite is

Y/N: At least I help out at the junkyard!!

Jay: I'm literally out saving the world everyday!!!

*aggressive slap fight ensues*

OMG no. he's definitely the younger sibling to pull the rapid fire kick tactic

His elemental abilities go out the window when y'all fight. Just straight up, falls on his back and starts kicking up at you

All fun n games until you're able to catch one of his legs

You totally embarrass him as much as you can in front of Nya too

As Jay's older sibling, you're legally obligated to be Cole's bestie since Cole is Jay's bestie. you guys lovingly torment the lightning user together <33

Cole

The most chill sibling duo to ever exist

you both didn't appreciate Lou's insistence of the singing and dancing shit so y'all just decided to be ride or dies for life

much like cole, you get along so well with the rest of the ninja

idrk what to say here

nvm i do

You guys play video games with each other and you are infinitely salty at the fact that your younger brother is better than you at most video games

like wtf? isn't it supposed to be a god given right for all older siblings to be better at video games???? the FSM screwed you!!!

but you've never let him live down the one time he lost to you at super smash bros

you have refused to play with him since

Zane

See, idk if you'd be his ACTUAL sibling yk since he's a robot? maybe more like you were supposed to be a protege to dr. julien, but decided to just be a 4 lyfer with zane after his passing

you've helped zane understand human culture so much and he's real appreciative of your existence

the ninja absolutely fucking ADORE when you're around because what's better than one zane? TWO ZANES !!!

well, obviously you're your own person but! i could see zane adopting a lot of your mannerisms so you two end up being very similar

quality time is y'alls bread and butter

working around each other perfectly as y'all both cook in the kitchen

words never need to be shared between the two of you. just hanging around the other is enough yk? like y'all are bonding just by existing near each other and it is magical

ANOTHER A/N; i tried my best to highlight reader being the older sibling but </3 idk if i did it that well. i saw "sibling fluff" and RAN!! im willing to do a pt 2 or like a one shot or anything with a prompt similar to this !! im the youngest sibling myself tho so idk if i can properly portray being an older sibling (only in a mean light. yk like greg heffley and rodrick. do NOT recommend having older siblings y'all /j)

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner

chapter wc: ...13K

a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09

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FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.

At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.

For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.

And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.

The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one. 

You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.

You’d been so, so naive.

“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”

“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.

(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)

“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”

Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.

Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.

Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.

You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.

“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”

Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)

After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.

(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)

As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.

“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”

You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”

Somi is nonplussed by your horror.

“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”

You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”

She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”

Your life flashes before your eyes.

Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.

Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.

‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’

“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”

Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.

“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”

You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.

Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.

“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”

“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”

“The problem?”

You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.

And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.

They, you remember yet again. Plural.

You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"

"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."

Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.

Great.

A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.

Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.

You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.

Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds. 

Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?

Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.

What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.

Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now. 

“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”

But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.

“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”

He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.

Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.

“I wasn’t being entirely—”

“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.

“The party?” 

“Somi said she invited you guys.”

“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”

“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”

“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”

And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings. 

Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify? 

Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?

Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?

The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.

After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared. 

You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.

The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.

But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.

It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?

“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”

Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence. 

“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”

He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.

“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”

A shot?  

...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit. 

Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”

One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.

The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.

You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.

You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?

“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”

“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”

As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.

Close enough, though. 

It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.

“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”

The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”

Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens. 

“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”

Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.

“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”

Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.

“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”

To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.

There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?” 

“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"

“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”

“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”

And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon. 

Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.

And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.

Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.

“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?” 

“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”

It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.

He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?

But you hardly recall her being very funny. 

“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”

“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”

“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”

He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”

You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans. 

But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled. 

“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”

“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”

It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.

“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?” 

Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?

“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”

He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”

Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.

To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?

“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”

“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”

“Who is us?”

“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”

You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”

Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”

You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.

He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he? 

“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

“What?”

“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”

“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”

You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—

“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.

“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”

Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”

And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you. 

“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”

“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”

“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.” 

She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”

“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”

“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”

She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware. 

“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”

Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”

And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.

“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”

The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?

Was she referring to Yoobin?

Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.

“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”

Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”

Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.

Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.

Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.

Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.

In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—

As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.

Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.

“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”

(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.

“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”

“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”

“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”

Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”

“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.

“It’s restraint!”

“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”

“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”

“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”

Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”

“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.

“She—”

“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.

And then Jeno is across the room.)

Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.

His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.

You’d cried in his car.

When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real. 

Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out? 

You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears. 

He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?

You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you. 

But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it. 

In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.

But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.

(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)

On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”

“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”

“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”

“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”

…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.

Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”

“What I— What?”

What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?

“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”

You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?

But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.

But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.

You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here. 

“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”

“Pizza is… fine.”

“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”

“It’s good, Lee.”

He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”

You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”

“What? Forgot what?"

But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.

“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.” 

He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.

You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.

There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.

But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes. 

Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.

Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.

"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."

But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."

You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.

You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.

"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.

A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?

You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.

You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.

So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.

You fall asleep. 

At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.

It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.

But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.

The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?

But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.

So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.

As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.

Shit. Will this actually work?

When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?

Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—

“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.

With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.

“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."

A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?

Is he… going to stay out here? 

“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What? 

But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”

Try it... now?

Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?

“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”

You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.

From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?

“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”

He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”

You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes. 

But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”

You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance. 

You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.

You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.

“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”

Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head. 

So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now. 

You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort. 

“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.” 

Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.

“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?” 

He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”

Yes, you are. You are. 

“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”

And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.

“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”

Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.

“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”

Oh.

“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”

There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.

But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.

“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”

You inhaled. 

You exhaled. 

And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.

But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!

[moonshynecybin]

hmmm idk if this is anything, but rosquez as romcom co stars that keep getting cast together even though they hateee each other but the chemistry is too good?

this is fun because like. it keeps some of my favorite little rosquez saw traps and wraps them up for me like a little treat. forced proximity public pda and EXTREME media scrutiny kind of their bread and butter tbh. make them crazy make them kiss im watching like tashi in the hotel scene in challengers

like marc as a young tom cruise esque (sorry. SORRY. im sorryyyyy) action star who does all of his own stunts loves the physicality of acting loves getting to pretend to do crazy stuff and be a HEROOOO but still kind of plays the same exact character every time. BIG smile always standing on apple boxes to make himself seem taller as he attempts to generate chemistry with whatever actress is his badly written love interest of the day (marc would be SO good in the mission impossible movies im sorry he WOULD be like. can i parachute off of a motorcycle into a ravine please please please youre NOTHING. santi is his extremely stressed stunt coordinator. lmao.) versus vale who came up doing indie movies as a teen in the 90s (his lil face would DOMINATE gay cinephile gifset tumblr) before launching himself to super stardom with a string of successful comedies and sort of settling into that because its easy... secretly frustrated no one will let him bust out his drama chops... BIG chip on his shoulder here a la leaving honda for yamaha etc

so eventually both of them are getting a little tired of being pigeon holed. and decide 2 book a serious ass gay romantic drama. they are tired of being hailed as the kings of fiction for the masses and they want to win at acting!! they get into the chemistry read (marc is still pretty young i think) and its. insane. INSTANT. james dean and marlon brando levels of ARE YOU TWO FUCKING?? but they literally just met. and marc has been a fan of vale's forever but not just the comedies also his earlier dramatic stuff (apocalyptic little gay crush) and they have similar taste in movies and vale is sooooo funny and it is OFF to the races. like. i cannot emphasize this enough they are fucking the WHOLE time. every scene in this movie its just leaping off the screen... they go in to film and its like that BTS clip of the americans where the director was having matthew rhys and keri russell do a sex scene and theyre suspiciously comfortable pretending to 69 and he turns to his assistant and just goes. oh yeah these guys have fucked. they are wayyyy to comfy hitching the other's pussy into their face lmao. just fucking going for it. the director is like hey guys. can you tone it down a little. marc biggggg smile okayyyyyy :3

and the movie comes out and they attend the premiere all smiley and bouncy and feeling really good about the project and then, theyy watch it. and its like. uh oh! not a lot of acting happening there ! um. best performance of either of their careers and they both look at it an can identify all the points they werent acting like evil little signal flares.... and vale shuts marc out HARD yadayadayada the Usual Rosquez Breakup Ensues.... until they both get cast in a revival of the brokeback mountain stage play and shit pops off in the most nuclear explosion of horny heartbreak to ever hit the STAGE…

[breezybrii]

ੈ♡˳ꜱᴛʀɪᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ！- BLLK

-meguru bachira ；f-reader

-part one ！

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ .

❥ : being the new student isn't easy, especially in a new country. as you are trying to get used to the new surroundings and a new school. on your walk back from getting a drink, you notice the soccer field. the boys were playing around. out of curiosity, you make your way down the hill to watch. someone specific catches your eye as he swiftly steals the ball from the opposing team while wearing a pinnie with the number 8. using fancy moves, he takes the ball up the field, getting around each defender. after passing the last person, he takes a shot at goal, hitting the crossbar. the ball bounces off, flying in your direction. you hold your nose in pain, watching the ball bounce along the pavement. "wow what a bad header! hey there!" you looked up. "sorry about that. are you okay?" it was him. number 8.

❥ contents: transfer student reader, international reader, basically all the bllk boys go to the same school, just some cute romance bubbling up with bachira :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏᴠ:

"i want to go home mom," i said into the phone. i heard my mom sigh.

"you'll be okay, we'll be over there in a few months i promise, just focus on school and stay well, bye." she hung up.

i moved to japan about a week ago after my dad got a new job over here. though, i'm the only one here because something came up at my moms job. mom wanted me to start school on time so here i am. in a new house, in a new country, all alone.

------

i start making my way to school, passing the sound of the busy street. compared to the u.s, there are so much more people walking. i'm used to the bus.

"hey y/n!" i heard someone yell.

i turned around.

"i didn't know you took this way!" it was kyo. my new friend.

"i usually don't but i wanted to just go around the town for a bit more," i said, smiling.

"well start walking this way more often, then we can walk to school together!" she yelled excitedly, brushing her hair out of her face.

i like kyo, she's sweet. she invited me to eat with her at lunch when i first moved here and ever since then we've been pretty much inseparable.

"say y/n...," kyo began. "we should def hangout outside of school," she said as we walked through the school gates.

"yeah im so down, it can be at my place since my parents still haven't moved out here yet," i replied.

we walked towards our lockers, changing our shoes.

"hey, when we hangout, does tonight work for you?" i asked.

kyo slammed her locker, making everyone look at us.

"of course it does! i'm so excited oh my god!" she shouted. i covered her mouth with my hand. "everyone is looking at us," i laughed.

"sorry," kyo giggled. "i just can't wait, im so excited!"

"yeah yeah now come on, we're going to miss the morning announcements AGAIN if we don't hurry," i told her.

kyo shoved her books that were lying on the floor in her bookbag, throwing the bag over her should. "yeah i'm ready, lets go!"

------

"ugh im so dead, i can't wait to eat!" kyo yelled as she pushed her desk to face mine. "the lesson today was SO confusing, i don't know how i'm going to pass the midterms."

"well it would be easier if you were awake for more than 15 minutes kyo," i laughed, taking out my lunch bag.

"oh crap," kyo said as she opened her lunch bag up. "i forgot my drink and bread..." she looked up, giving me the eyes.

"oh no, i'm not doing this again kyo." i combatted. kyo pouted her lip, trying her best to give "cute eyes".

"pleaseeeee y/n pleaseee, just the drink PLEASE," kyo begged.

this is the second time is week kyo forgot something for her lunch.

i rolled my eyes, pushing my seat back.

"sure, but this is the LAST time, next time you're getting both by yourself," i sighed, giving in.

kyo got up excitedly. "thank you so much i literally LOVE you! i promise this is the last time."

i shook my head, smiling. i just know that isn't true.

-----

"i hope this is the drink kyo is feeling today," muttering to myself, pressing the button to dispense a yogurt drink.

kyo has a different favorite drink every week so i really hope i don't have to make another trip back.

i started making my way back to the school building but while on the walk, i noticed a soccer field. there were some boys playing there.

i got a little curious so i made my way down the hill to watch for a bit.

i noticed one boy. a boy with the number 8. with his quick movements, he steals the ball away from someone on the opposing side. his fancy footwork mesmerized me. the way he got past each defender with such ease was so cool.

he takes on the last defender, beating him easily. i gripped the drinks, awaiting to see what happens next.

he takes a shot on goal. it hits the cross bar.

next thing i know, i'm holding my nose in pain. opening my eyes to see the drinks on the floor.

"wow what a bad header! hey there!" i looked up towards the voice. "sorry about that! are you okay?"

it was him. number 8.

"uh um yeah, psh, i'm totally fine," i answered.

he looks down at the floor, bending down and picking up the drinks. he hands them to me.

"oh uh thank you, sorry about not catching the ball for you," i said, watching the ball roll down the hill.

"don't worry about it! i was the one that kicked it! sorry about that again!" he scratches the back of his head.

"say.. i've never seen you around here, are you new?" he asked, drying the sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief.

i nodded.

"yeah i moved here about a week ago actually, from the u.s."

his eyes widened.

"oh my god i've always wanted to meet a foreigner! what's your name?" he asked excitedly, shoving the rag back into his pocket.

"my names y/n..." i replied. "what's yours?"

"my name is meguru bachira! nice to meet you y/n!" he said smiling.

"oh my god y/n!!! there you are!!!" we both turned towards the noise. it was kyo, running with a bag full of pastries in one hand.

when she made her way over to us, she was breathing heavily from the running. "i was looking for you everywhere! where have you been?" she questioned.

"well i was getting us a drink and i got a little distracted. then the next thing i know i got hit in the face with a soccer ball by this guy," i said, pointing to bachira.

kyo's eyes widened. "are you okay? is your head okay?... wait...," kyo looked over at bachira. "no way...," she gasped.

"uhh is there a problem?" i asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"no nothing! come on lets get going y/n!" kyo exclaimed, dragging me by my arm.

"oh uh okay...," i accepted as i caught up to match kyo's pace. i turned my head back at bachira, "bye, i'll see you later." i waved.

"bye y/n i'll see ya!!" bachira shouted, waving his hand vigorously while smiling.

i turned back to kyo, "what was that about?"

"since you're new you probably didn't know but bachira is one of the best soccer players here! he's also pretty cute so a lot of girl like him," kyo said, letting go of my arm.

"ohh well it wasn't really anything. he was just the one that kicked the ball that ended up hitting me in the face. he was just being nice," i reassured her. "but, since you say a lot of girl like him does that include you kyo?" i looked at her with a smirk.

kyo shook her head, "no of course not, he's not my type. the only boy i have eyes for is my man takeru satoh."

i laughed. "girl i have no idea who that is ..."

kyo gasped. "he's literally the CUTEST actor in the world, how do you not know who he is?"

i smiled at kyo, nudging her shoulder. "guess i get to see some of his shows today."

i looked back down at the drink boxes, one was a little bent inwards because of the fall.

i touched my nose, feeling a slight sting from the impact.

remind me never to do that again.

----

HEY GUYS!! WELCOME TO MY BACHIRA X YN FF!!!! i hope yall like it because i literally could not get over writers block </3 please let me know what yall think! thank you!! waka-chan out.

[etoiile]

"BE BRAVE"

starring chigiri hyoma!

synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?

warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader

notes: i want him your honor

"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.

"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"

"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."

"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."

"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)

"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.

"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.

"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.

chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.

as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.

"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"

"yeah"

"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"

at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.

now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.

he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.

"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."

"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"

chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.

"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.

"dont forget the eggs!"

"just be brave," his sister had said.

pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!

he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.

"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.

"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.

his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.

"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"

he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.

you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.

there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.

"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.

suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.

gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.

"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:

"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."

you were left frozen.

"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.

as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[jaylleoo14]

An Octopus's First Impression

I have so much brainrots but im not a good enough writer to put them into actual stories and stuff😭 AHHHH TEH PAIN (If it isnt obvious enough I have low confidence in myself with my writing ability TT) But yes, Hello! This is going to be my debut as a twst writer and perhaps for other fandoms too<3 for now I am most comfortable writing for twst though, but please do enjoy your visit on my page!

Azul has yet to make a proper introduction to you

Part II

>GN!ReaderxAzul

[disclaimer] A rather desperate and calculative Tako

[characters] Azul and the other sillies that get in his way X3

When you first arrived at NRC Azul was surely not one of the individuals you'd paid mind to. The first dorm leaders that made their appearances known to your acknowledgment first was Vil because of his striking awe-stunning and jaw dropping beauty, Kalim because of his outward friendliness and radiating-welcoming personality, and lastly Riddle because of his fierce strictness to follow the school rules accordingly (And along with other respective proper and prim mannerisms and clothing rules to abide by whenever your paths were crossed)

Idia of course did not make his presence known and you literally did not know of him only until later after meeting Orthro, and even then you've only heard of him and never actually seen him. I mean cmon, who has honestly?

Leona is always hiding away, lazing around somewhere as he naps away into his own comfort so you dont even encounter him until some magical fateful day, but thats a story for another time :)

Although perhaps meeting him already when everyone is asleep, you arent really formally introduced to Malleus. So until then, you technically havent met Malleus for multiple reasons that are rather lengthy to list.

And then there's Azul. oooooh boy. Despite how interested he is in you regarding your sudden magical predicament and trying to approach you, you somehow always seem to be going astray from your interactions with him

He's tried to approach you, ensuring he'd give a lasting impression on you as he's heading on over to greet you properly

though things dont go as planned when Lilia is suddenly snatching you away to go entertain a certain activity of his out of nowhere

Or when you're being chased by a random Savanaclaw student with a bread bun in your mouth and Grim buried in your side as your arm wraps around him securely, holding about 4x amount of food in his paws (Cater in the background taking pictures of this and posting it on his magicam #delinquent #hungry for some breadbunz #Getting chased #My junior is so cute and trouble some #Uh oh trouble!)

Perhaps if it weren't for those troublesome classmates of yours, ah yes - Ace and Deuce - then you wouldn't be stuck in a tree branch right now with that troubling huntsman below you trying to help you down and he would by now be shaking hands with you

Why are you just all over the place?! You've already met with that Lazy Lion when all he did was sleep on the floor and you miraculously tripped over him, resulting in him catching you in his arms before you fell face first into the hard cobblestoned floor! He didnt even do anything to try and approach you so why is it that despite all his meticulous planning on trying to approach you and make an appearance, it just never happens?! Not only that but you're now indebted to that second prince just for you to do him a solid and fetch him a meat sandwich. Seriously, what a waste of a perfect opportunity

Do you perhaps already know who he is? Is that it? Are you actively trying to avoid him?! You're stressing him out already here Prefect, hello?! Its very important for a business man to expand his connections, you know. You two have never even properly met! Now that wont do at all, he must make his appearance now. Especially when you can offer that lovely little dwelling of yours for a branch of his add on of the Mostro Lounge with some talking and persuasion of course :)

He's been carefully looking over your schedule, trying to figure out what classes you go to at what time and when; will we be able to cross paths here? What about when you head on over to your chem class? You have lunch with who and where? Noted, now he can definitely prepare to approach you now. Is he desperate? Of course not, he's just ought to give you a proper greeting is all! Its not weird that he's trying to remember your schedule and trying to talk to you and-

You're in the library, studying up on some topics you don't quite get in your history class. The library was rather quaint and tranquil, a nice aesthetically pleasing place to help you go over your lessons and to study. You had a test coming up in Professor Trein's class and that was something you did NOT want to fail in again. Failing once or perhaps twice or maybe even a possible third time but who knows was already enough to bring your grade down to get a harsh scolding from Riddle and a sympathetic look from Trey

Your face all in the book, your notes plastered and sprawled out on the side where they rest on the table, and your other needed stationary next to you, you were in a environment where no one was around for you to focus up and study hard

Well, no one around except for Azul

Perfect! This is a great opportunity to approach you now! No one is around and he can even talk up into having you indebted to him by helping you study! This situation is rather perfect if he says so himself

A confident look spreads across his face as he walks on over to you, a perfect and professional air surrounding him

"Good evening Prefect, It's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. I do apologize on interrupting your study session here but I would like the humbling experience to introduce myself."

A nice and firm smile is sprawled on his face as his hand is outstretched towards yours to make a formal shake. You look up from your book and stare at his hand, soon taking it as you sit and ponder only for a second

"Oh, aren't you that guy who couldn't get above 10 inches off the floor while riding his broomstick?"

Crack. After finally being able to introduce himself for GOD KNOWS HOW LONG, you know him for THAT?! For sevens sake! Not as Octavinelle's Dorm leader, BUT "that guy who couldn't get above 10 inches off the floor"

God he wants to go curl away and hide now. His hand flinching as you mention so but you keep a firm hold on his to give him a proper shake, a little oblivious to his faltering demeanor

"I think Floyd mentioned you before too. You're that boss running Mostro Lounge he said right? I think he said your name was-"

"Azul Ashengrotto." Clearing his throat a little before he continues "It's a pleasure to meet you (y/n)" Azul is quick to regain his composure and returns the firm hold. How strong you grip and how long you shake is incredibly important in dealing with business, especially when wanting to make lasting impressions to expand your social networks

In his mind though he wants to quickly eradicate that impression you have about him, and thus he asks to join you - to which you complied - in hopes of overwriting and hopefully making you forget that horrific thing you witness regarding his flight skills

And of course Floyd just had to meet you before he did. Its not really surprising considering his boisterous personality and extroverted behavior when in the mood, but perhaps Jade has also met you then too. Considering that those two tend to be near one another

No, of course he's not feeling bitter that even those two slimy eels met you first. Of course he's not feeling a little irritated that they didnt try to strike you up into making a deal with him. Or maybe the fact that whatever those two were doing they'd at least try to make you two meet! Afterall, he did tell them to send you over once due to his interest in you. But he then adverts his attention back onto you when mention how you are currently studying for an upcoming test

You dont know him at all yet, so you let yourself be completely vulnerable. Looking like the smart and reliable gentleman that he is, you ask him to help you study. Oh how you make it so easy for him, he didnt even need to offer!

With a pleasant smile on his face, his slick and gloved fingers pushing up the frame of his glasses, he happily accepts with a sweet tone in his voice as you both sit together and go over the lessons together

[seeingivy]

Hi!! Can you do an angsty song fic for “hits different” with Gojo? Love the ts series !!❤️

hits different

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: older brothers best friend!satoru, teenagers being dumb teenagers, drinking, satoru calls reader belle, reader spends a fuck ton of money on toji's credit card

an: HELLO SWEETIE PIE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DA LOVE IM GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING IT SO FAR. this ended up at a 9k so I hope you enjoy pookie

--

present day 

“Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?” he asks, his hands folded across his menu. 

You close your own menu, setting it neatly on top of the plates, as you look over at him - the look in his eyes downright murderous. Granted, sticking your nose in the menu while he was trying to talk to you for the past twenty minutes couldn’t have helped, but he should cut you some slack. You’re really hungry.   

It’s then and there that you see the look, that twitch in his right eye, and know exactly what’s going to happen. Toji Fushiguro, the accountant you’ve been dating for the last six months, is about to break up with you. 

“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention when I talk to you, when I’m trying to sit here and tell you how I’m feeling.” 

“Okay. So tell me how you’re feeling, Toji.” 

He flares his nostrils, exasperated by your response. You thought it was polite. But you’ve been told your tone is downright argumentative, like grating nails on a chalkboard. 

And then Toji lays out his final card, waiting for your broken expression. 

“I’m breaking up with you. You-you and me. We’re done.” 

No broken expression comes. Because you don’t let idiots like Toji think they have power over you, your feelings for even a second. 

“Okay. Well, I still came here to eat dinner so could you pass me the main menu?” 

You give him your best smile, sickly sweet, and it pushes him over the edge. 

“Are you fucking serious? You’re not going to say anything to that? Anything at all? I just broke up with your pathetic ass and you don’t even feel a bit sad about it?” 

You set the menu down again, crossing your wrists against your chest. 

“Do you want me to, Toji? Because I can if you want me to.” 

He gets even more frustrated, standing up at the table to yell his final words before he storms out. 

“Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?” 

“Please enlighten me. I’m dying to know.” 

“You-you’re shit to be around. Literally the most frustrating, agitating, irritating person I’ve ever met. You can’t ever take anything at face value - you just argue and argue because it’s the only thing you know how to do. True love could knock on your door and you’d send it running away with that cold, dark heart in your chest. Because you’re hard to love.” 

You clench your fists under the table, drawing blood against your palms. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t as agreeable as you wanted me to be. Surely the secretary you’ve been fucking for the last three months we were dating is a sweeter taste in your mouth than I am.” 

“Wait, what-” 

“If you’re going to fuck another girl while you’re dating me, make sure you don’t butt dial me while you’re doing it, sweetheart.” 

He furrows his brow, ears pink from what you’re sure is embarrassment as he storms off. You turn your head over your neck, lifting your hand to signal Nobara, Megumi, and Itadori to join you at the table. 

They all awkwardly take the empty seats at the table, Itadori immediately reaching for the free bread on the table and Megumi reaching for the bottle of wine. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks, a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“Toji has this really, really shit habit of leaving his stuff everywhere. His sunglasses, his keys, his wallet.” 

You hold the wallet in the air, Nobara immediately snatching it from your hands and pulling out his credit card. 

“No way.” she says, immediately running through the menu to find the most expensive thing to eat. 

“He’ll cancel it tomorrow. So, we should make the most of it tonight.” you say, the three of them smiling back at you. 

“You know, I’d feel half bad about this but he cheated on you for three months, so I really, really don’t.” Megumi says, ordering another bottle of wine. 

Itadori puts his hand on yours, squeezing once as he asks. 

“Are you sad about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, come on. She’s heartless. Ever since that idiot she dated from her hometown took her heart and went running with it, she’s been cold ever since.” Kugisaki says, spreading the leftover butter on the bread she just stole from Itadori. 

“Exactly.” you say, smiling at the three of them. 

You tilt the rest of your wine into the back of your throat, the sensation burning as you push it down. 

You hate that after all these years, even the mention of him makes your head spin. 

Satoru. 

--

two years ago 

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N.” 

“Real clever, Getou. You really got me there.” 

Getou immediately knocks you off your chair and starts wrestling with you on the ground - the two of you yanking each other’s arms and pulling each other's legs. 

“Cut your hair, Getou. You look like a hillbilly with that uglyass manbun.” 

“Check your attitude, Y/N. You’re getting bitchier as time goes on.” 

You immediately reach up and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking hard as he elbows you in the eye. And you’re about to punch him straight in the stomach before you feel two arms around your waist, the hold firm, as you fight off the hold. 

“That’s enough from you two, alright?” Satoru says, his voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine. 

“It’s not enough, Satoru. I need to give him a piece of my mind.” 

“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind with your fist, princess?” 

He finally lets you go, Shoko mimicking his actions as she lets Getou go on the other side of the kitchen. You’re both glaring bloody murder at each other, the stupid look on his ugly face only enraging you more. 

“Quit calling me princess, it’s stupid.” you murmur, lifting your hands up to fix the mess Getou made of your hair. 

“Cmon, Belle. Don’t be like that.” 

You cringe at the nickname, even worse than princess, as the memory comes straight to your mind. Third grade. Halloween Eve. 

You were going to be Cinderella for Halloween - all set with fake glass slippers and a sparkly blue dress and butterfly hair clips. But Getou and Satoru had come home straight from their soccer practice, all muddy and disgusting, and accidentally sat on your costume. 

The pretty blue dress you had saved all your allowance on was ruined and along with it, your hopes of impressing Haibara - the guy that you had a crush on at the time. 

Except Satoru, in his infinite kindness that he’s always shared with you, dragged you to the costume store the day after, his hands wrapped around your waist as he biked the two of you there in the scorching midday October heat. 

“Do you guys have any Cinderella dresses left?” 

“They’re all sold out. We’re so sorry, sir.” 

As the clerk walks away, Satoru turns over to you, a giddy smile on his face. 

“Did you hear that? That lady just called me sir.” 

“Really funny, Satoru.” 

You push him into the stand by the cashier, as you stomp to the other side of the store. You look up at the little catalogs, the sparkly blue dress in the picture with a red “sold out” sign stamped on top of it. He catches up, his hand soft on your shoulder, as he talks. 

“Sorry we messed up your dress, Y/N.” 

You can feel the tears building in your eyes as you start aggressively swiping them away, trying to hide the fact that you were crying in front of Satoru. Knowing him, he was just going to run home and tell Getou so the two of them could laugh at you. 

“No, you’re not. You probably did it on purpose.” 

“We didn’t, I-I swear.” 

“Getou literally told me yesterday that he thought it was stupid I wanted to be a princess for Halloween. That girls like me aren’t princesses, because they have a rotten attitude. He said I should dress up as the Scream instead.” 

You look over at the ghost mask - all elongated and scary - and it only sends more tears running down your face. 

“Hey. You can still be a princess if you want to be.” he says. 

“No, I can’t. Because you guys ruined the costume I already did buy. And I don’t have the money for another one because I-I spent my entire allowance on that costume.” 

Satoru pulls out his wallet and brings his hand down to yours, placing the crisp dollar bills in your hand. You look over at him and he’s smiling - the tips of his ears pink. 

“Now you have money for the costume.” 

“There’s still no costume, dumbass.” 

Satoru drags you down the aisle and points at the sparkly yellow dress, his hand now slung around your shoulder again. 

“They still have this one.” 

“Belle? You want me to be Belle?” 

“You’re more of a Belle than Cinderella. Getou’s right in the sense that you’re a little bit too harsh to be a Cinderella type.” 

“Geez. Thanks Satoru.” 

“But you’re smart, ambitious, headstrong enough to be a Belle. Cinderella’s the type of bitch to always back down from a fight. Belle on the other hand fights for what she wants, like you.” 

You look over at him and smile, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you biking back to the house with the sparkly yellow dress in the bag in between you guys. 

“Just don’t fight to date a literal animal like Belle, okay? That’s bestiality.” 

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

You feel a hand on your head, shaking hard, and grounding you back in the moment. And at your irritation at Getou, who's still hurling insults at you from the other side of the room. 

“She started it, Shoko.” he says. 

“No, I didn’t. You’re the dumbass who-” you start. 

“I’m so fucking sick of you, Y/N. You’re always fucking nagging me in some way or another. You know, I heard you crying the other day about how you’re the only girl in your class who's never had a guy like you. Maybe if you took a look in the fucking mirror you’d realize why. You’re insufferable to be around.” 

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes - hot and angry - as you bolt straight out the door and down the street. You can faintly hear the three of them calling for you, but you reach straight for the bike on the curb and go as far as you can. 

You make your way five blocks down from your house to eventually stop at the lake, resting the bike against the dock before you walk down. You take your shoes off and dip your feet in, watching the sun fall behind the water and the sky turn brilliant, beautiful shades of pink, orange, and yellow. 

And when dark blue starts creeping in, you lay back against the dock and watch the stars trickle into the night sky, hundreds of tiny sparkling lights. Except your view of the sky is then obscured by Satoru’s face, upside down from your vantage point. 

“Hi Belle.” 

“Screw off.” 

He sits down, taking his own shoes off and dipping his feet into the water to lie down next to you. 

“Did you have to take my bike when you ran off? Yours was two feet away from it.” 

“Closest one. Cry about it, Satoru.” 

You both sit in silence, save for the sound of your feet splashing in the water as Satoru breaches the topic. 

“Never had a guy like you, huh?” 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? First, you watch Getou literally rip me a new one for no reason and now you’re here to rub it in my face?” 

“You know that wasn’t what I was doing. Have I ever made fun of you like that?” 

You sit up, running your hands through your hair, as you look down at the water, your leg sending ripples far beyond. You swallow hard, the tears rising to your eyes again. 

“No, Satoru. I haven’t had a guy like me like that. I’m the only girl going into senior year who hasn’t been kissed by a guy.” you whisper, the confession making you turn red with embarrassment. 

Satoru sits up, scooting closer to you so your knees are knocking each other, as you both look down at the water. 

“So why’s that a big deal, Y/N? You’ve never cared about what people think, let alone men. I mean, you’re basically a misandrist at this point.” 

You smile, looking over at his blue eyes, almost indiscernible in the dark of the night. 

“It’s a big deal because I want someone to like me. I-I know that you all think I’m mean and I argue all the time and-and whatever, maybe it’s true. But, I want someone to like me. You know, butterflies, first kisses, someone who saves all their secret jokes for you.” 

He puts his hand flat against your forehead, like he’s checking your temperature. 

“You feeling okay? Who are you and what have you done with, Y/N?” 

You shake his hand off, rolling your eyes at him, as you both laugh into the night. 

“You’re so mean, Satoru. I hate you.”

He lifts one of his legs out of the water and turns to his side, so that he’s facing you. You mimic his motions, the look on your face bored as you look over at him. 

“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to wound my ego a little bit, so don’t tell anyone okay?” 

“You with a wounded ego? I would live for the day.” 

He lightly nudges you before turning back down to the water, swishing the water with his legs. 

“What you said isn’t true, Belle.” 

“What part?” 

“About going into highschool and not having a guy like you.” 

“That guy who chased me around in first grade doesn’t count because he literally thought I was-” 

He brings his hands down on your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that you can’t get another word out. His eyes are closed, his face only a few feet from yours. 

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” he whispers, the words sending a shiver down your spine. 

You nod as he lets go, giving you a satisfied smile. He turns his head back to the water, leaning over the dock.

“That guy in first grade did like you. And I like you too.”  

He looks over and smiles and it makes your blood burn. You lift your hands to cover your pink face, the implication of the entire thing making your stomach burn with anxiety, embarrassment, and the gross, mushy gushy feelings you’ve had for Satoru for years. For the boy who always came to your defense when you’re fighting Getou, always came to your aid when you were crying, and the only, only person you’ve never argued with. 

“So quit crying about it, okay? My type has always been girls like you.” 

“Girls like me?” 

“Argumentative.” 

You nod as Satoru stands up, holding his hand out. And ignore the pounding in your chest when his skin touches yours. You both walk your bikes - you pushing his bike and him pushing yours back down the blocks as you cheese at each other in the dark, sharing a secret smile before Satoru ducks back into Getou’s room. 

--

three months later 

You push up on the counter, swirling the cup of lemonade in your hand as you watch everyone mill around the party. 

Your parents went out of town on a business trip. Getou throws the biggest party of the summer. And specifically tells you to stay in your room, because no one likes freshmen at a party. 

Yet here you are, drinking lemonade and watching everyone mill around the party. Getou’s trying too hard to hit on a girl way older than him and Shoko and Utahime are so blatantly flirting that its giving you physical pain to watch them pine the way they are any longer. 

But there’s one person you haven’t seen. Satoru. 

He should have been back from his family trip to Tokyo for the summer since school was starting next week and there’s no way that he would miss anything that Getou and Shoko planned. 

Even the thought of him makes your heart race, his swift admission of his feelings for you that were all but unrequited right before he left. You feel a tap on your shoulder, throwing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey. Can you hand me a cup?” 

You halfheartedly smile as you reach over, handing her a cup from behind you. She gives you a smile as she swirls through the random potion Getou was serving - a dark purple color. You’re sure there’s an unfathomable amount of liquor mixed in and that it tastes disgusting. 

“You want some?” 

“I’m good. Getou poisoned that for all I know.” you mutter, which elicits a laugh from her. 

“Interesting guy. He’s cute, right?” 

You gag, the thought making the lemonade you just drank roll over in your stomach. 

“Disgusting. He’s my older brother.” 

She laughs, pushing up on the counter to sit with you and smiles. 

“My bad. He’s ugly, downright horrendous.” 

“Thank you.” 

You smile as you look over at her, her eyes scanning the mess of people in front of you two. 

“Oh shit. Wait, you’re Y/N, right? Satoru was talking about you.” 

And any good feeling you have is now replaced with a green, jealous monster. And that part of you - the one that argues, the one that feels bitter, anger so powerfully is fighting its way out. 

“Y-yeah. How do you know Satoru?” 

“I don’t. I just met him upstairs. I almost puked in your room but he stopped me, helped me to the bathroom, and held my hair for a while while I threw up.” 

“He’s a real nice guy, isn’t he?” you say, the sarcasm dripping from you voice. 

Of course the asshole shows up to your house and flirts with another girl in your bedroom. Typical. 

“Yeah. Cute too.” 

Just then, Satoru and Getou walked up to you - with complete opposite expressions on their faces. Satoru is shining like the sun, his cheeks tinted pink which you’re sure is from drinking. And Getou’s glaring at you like there’s no tomorrow, his forehead scrunched up in irritation. 

“Y/N.” 

“Getou.” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Lemonade.” 

Getou snatches the cup from your hand and sets it down and by the look on his face, you know he’s about to start a fight with you. 

“Are you fucking dense? That’s not lemonade, dumbass.” 

“Do you think I was born yesterday, idiot? I took it from the unopened bottle in the fridge.” 

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You’re too young to be here.” 

“You’re one year older than me, Getou. And don’t throw a party in my house if you don’t want me here.” 

Satoru puts a hand on Getou’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear until he gives you one last glare and walks away. Satoru gives you a big smile but before he can talk, the girl from before cuts him off. 

“Do you want to dance now? I promise I got all my vomit out earlier so I won’t throw up this time.” 

She gives him a big smile, and you swear Satoru’s considering it by the way he pauses and looks at her, which is enough said for you. You push up off the counter, telling them you’ll be right back and run off to the lake again, this time stealing Getou’s bike from the curb. 

You’re pushing your legs so hard that they’re hurting, the tears biting cold against your skin from how fast you’re going in the middle of the night. And when you make it to the dock, you throw his bike against the grass and angrily kick your shoes off as you start taking your clothes off. 

Is it a good idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night, alone? No. But is every human person that would come to this park at the party? Yes. 

Which is the only reason you take the plunge and stare up at the moon, a tiny silver crescent in the sky. You hear a splash behind you after a few minutes and are met with Satoru, wet hair matted on his forehead. 

“Find your own lake, weirdo.” 

“You know. You shouldn’t skinny dip in public. People could see you.” 

You look over to his pile of clothes and shoes, neatly folded in the pile next to yours. 

“Same goes for you, pervert.” 

You roll your eyes at him as you cross your hands across your chest, turning to your back so you don’t have to look at him. He’s faster than you are, because suddenly he’s floating right in front of you, inches from your face. 

“Did I hurt your feelings, princess?”  

“Quit calling me that. It’s disgusting.” 

He brings his hands to your face, pushing away the tangled wet mess of hair on your shoulders. 

“You like it when I call you that.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do, Belle.” 

“Satoru.” 

“I’m not saying my piece till you say yours. And you want to hear mine, so talk.” 

You take a deep breath as you look at his face - all calm and blank faced like he didn’t just do the biggest asshole move he could have. 

“You’re a dick, you know that? First of all, you tell me all this shit about how you like me right before you leave. And then when you come back, the first thing I see is you talking to another girl? You were holding her hair in the bathroom, fondling god knows what in my bedroom and now you want to come here and skinny dip with me? I am not some consolation prize you get to have because she was bored of those ugly pool noodle dance moves you have and don’t ever think for a second that I will be.” 

You finish, your chest heaving and a shiver running across your body from the cold water. And instead of a sincere, kind-hearted apology, an acknowledgement of what he did - Satoru Gojo is laughing in your face. 

You reach forward to smack his face and he stops your hand in the air, tangling his fingers with yours. 

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?” 

“You’re so fucking r-” 

“Fondling? Pool noodle? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” 

He brings his hands up to your cheeks and leans your head forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You can feel your head short circuiting at the sensation, your arms tingling from how close he is. 

“You’re so, so ridiculous you know that? I’m never going to get tired of you.” he whispers, the words making your hair stand on their ends. 

“What-you can’t just say that and-” 

“Why do you think I was in your room?” 

“What?” 

“I was in your room, because I was looking for you. And I thought I was being nice by stopping that girl from puking all over your sheets - because I know you hate laundry and Getou isn’t going to do it for you - so I took her to the bathroom.” 

You can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face for misreading the situation entirely, taking the palms of your hands and rubbing them into your eye sockets. He laughs as he tangles his hands around your wrists, placing them around his own neck. 

“Still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. When I saw you last. Are you still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?” 

“Oh. Oh, yeah. But I-” 

“Good.” 

He leans forward, tangling his hands around your waist as he presses his warm lips to yours, his hands squeezing you as he laughs into your mouth. You don’t have much to compare it to, but by the way he’s hanging off your lips, you can tell he’s eager. Way too eager - to be kissing you of all things. 

“Satoru.” 

“Hm?” 

“I like you too.” 

His face breaks out into a smile, so big that it makes you smile too. And when he cups his hand around your face again to kiss the tip of your nose, you can feel your insides screaming. For him. 

“No telling Getou. He’s going to kill me, okay?” 

“As if. He literally hates me, he’d be glad if-” 

“No. He can’t know. You-you’re his little sister. If he finds out I even looked at you this way, he-he’d end me where I stand. Trust me, Belle. If I break my promise, he'll never talk to me again.” 

“What promise?” 

“When we were little. He made me promise I wouldn’t like you.” 

“And yet here you are. Naked in a lake with me.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” 

You lean into his touch again, pressing your lips against his, as the moon shines a bright light on the two of you in the dark. 

--

four months later 

You and Getou awkwardly stand in the kitchen, by the open bottles of champagne, as you both secretly circle the glasses behind your back. Getou has his moments - and this is one of them. When your parents put you on display like shiny trophies for their coworkers, bragging about how smart the two of you are.

“You decided where you’re going yet?” 

“Tokyo or Kyoto, Toto.” 

“Toto. Ew. You haven’t called me that since we were little, idiot.” 

He brings his hand around your shoulder, tucking you into his arm as you lean against his shoulder, smiling. After Getou really realized you’d be leaving at the end of the year, he’s been nicer. Granted, he still fights like hell but he has his odd moments. Like this one. 

“You’ll always be Get-toto to me.” 

“I’ll get you a little Totoro plushie before you go, okay? So when those bastards you date fight with you, you’ll always be reminded you have a little bitch in you ready to fight.” 

“Why are you praying for my downfall? You’re not gonna manifest a sweet, warm love for me?” 

“Please. The guy you end up with will be all fireworks. Soft fireplace love has never been your thing.” 

He ruffles your hair as Satoru walks up, his tie loosened already. He gives you a smile and then shakes hands with Getou, the three of you leaning against the granite countertops, watching your parents mingle through the crowd. 

“D’you pick yet? Because Tokyo’s the right choice, Belle.” 

“I’m still thinking, Satoru.” 

“C’mon. Imagine it - you joining me and Getou in Tokyo. It would be really fun.” 

Satoru’s just trying to piss you off. He knows that you’ve already picked Tokyo, because it means you don’t have to long distance date anymore. No more driving up to see each other in between, getting pulled away from each other by the constraints of time or distance or really anything else. 

One of the smaller girls at the party tugs the end of your dress, whispering in her ear that she wants warm milk, which you happily oblige with. Satoru and Getou stay in their spots as you start rummaging through the kitchen, picking out a little glass and warming up the milk for her. 

“Honey?” 

“Yes, love?” Satoru responds, turning his gaze over to you. 

You feel your eyes widen and Satoru’s face turn red as he looks over at you, realizing you were asking the girl if she wanted honey in her milk and not calling him. You both look over to Getou, who has a very strange look on his face that you can’t really discern. 

Fuck. 

You hand the girl her milk and stand farthest away from Satoru, giving Getou a weak smile as you all stare at the party again. 

“Look. It’s Shayla.” 

You and Satoru crane your necks over the other side of the room, one of your neighbors daughters saying hello to all the guests. Which you’re sure you’re getting to get a lecture about now, since you didn’t want to spend the time saying hi to all of them. 

“Remember when you had a really big crush on her, Satoru? Since we were kids?” 

“Uh, yeah. But I was just really little, y’know.” 

You can feel your throat drying as Getou pushes on, each word making your heart burn in your chest. 

“Yeah, but. She was basically your first love. Who forgets that? Who compares to that?” 

“I don’t know if I would say she was my first l-” 

“Then who is, Satoru? Because it’s not my sister, right?” he asks, his voice firm. 

Satoru said that he would tell Getou when you officially announced you were going to Tokyo. Because once you lived in the same city, nothing would stop you from being with him - not even his best friend. 

“No, no, why would it be her? She’s been annoying us since we were little, arguing with us and all that. You-you’re right. It is her. Shayla’s always been my type.” he says, his gaze lowering to the floor. 

You feel your heart sink, twist into a jumbled mess as Getou smiles and gestures for her to come over. There’s a fair amount of protests from Satoru as she walks over, which you know is him trying to save face. He deals his final blow the second she walks up, definitively and wholly breaking your heart into pieces. 

When Getou starts setting the two of them up. When Satoru actually takes her number down. When she presses a kiss to his cheek and winks before she walks away. 

“I have to pee, Toto. Cover for me?” 

“Yeah, got it.” 

And the second you walk away and Getou watches you wipe the tears from your face as you walk past, Getou knows he’s right. 

“Getou. You have to-” 

“No, Satoru. Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Wait, what- you can’t just-” 

“She’s my little sister. She’s not some toy you get to play around with till you figure out how you feel. And you don’t get to embarrass her by hiding her away either.” 

“We were going to tell you when she told you she’s going to Tokyo. You-you’re the reason I hid her away. I’ve liked her for years and I put that away because you didn’t want me with her. And now I-” 

“Don’t blame your shortcomings on me. Even if you did have to hide it in front of me, I would never call the girl I loved annoying to her face and throw everything she’s hated about herself in her face to make a point.” 

“I didn’t- Getou you’re the one who made her hate that about herself and-” 

“You love her?” 

“Obviously. Why would I go to the trouble of hiding something when-” 

“Talk to her again and I will literally break your face. In what world do you treat someone you love like that?” 

As Satoru watches Getou walk away and thinks about how hard you’re crying upstairs, he realizes he’s in his worst nightmare. Losing his best friend and the girl he loved on the same day. 

You and Satoru make promises that day. 

He promises that he’ll wear his heart on his sleeve from this day forward. You promise that you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can ever touch it again. 

--

present day 

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Itadori says, pushing the paper into your space. 

“And you suck at tic-tac-toe.” you respond, sliding it back. 

Nobara and Megumi laugh as the three of you sink back into your chairs in the back of the conference room, your marketing manager droning on about stocks, the future of the company, and god knows what as you try to drone him out and focus on winning your seventh round of tic-tac-toe with Itadori. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much. 

“And lastly, we’ve employed a new marketing manager to work with the sales team. The four of you back there can decide who he’s going to be working with for onboarding.” says Ijichi. 

You nod as the four of you turn to each other, matching smirks on your face. 

“Rock paper scissors?” Nobara asks. 

“Deal.” 

It’s not that you’d hate to work with the new marketing manager. But the past three marketing managers were driven out by the end of the month because of you guys.

Megumi was too harsh with the first girl, who left crying when he asked her if she got her marketing degree from a trash can. Nobara drove the second guy away when she found out he chewed too loudly while eating lunch, claiming that he wasn’t a good fit for the company. And Itadori drove the last girl away, because she fell in love with him and he didn’t return her feelings, which made her resign the next day. 

“You know, logically. It’s your turn.” Megumi says, holding his fist up to Itadori. 

“Nope. We honor the rock paper scissors tournament in this friendship. 

You mince your words four rounds later because you’re the pouty loser getting stuck with the stupid marketing manager. You slide back into your chair as you massage your temples, preparing yourself for the upcoming headache for the next month. 

Either a lover, an incompetent idiot, or a loud chewer. 

Nobara and Itadori sling their hands around your shoulders, pinching your cheeks, as Ijichi swings the door open and the marketing manager walks in. He readjusts his tie - loosely hanging from his neck - and when you lift your head to actually make eye contact with him, you immediately sit up in your chair, your skin burning. 

Because Satoru Gojo is no longer six thousand miles away in Tokyo - out of sight and out of mind. He’s three feet away from you - taller, older, and more attractive than the time you saw him last. 

Everyone files out of the conference room, leaving the two of you standing miles away from each other, with you refusing to meet his eye. He walks up and holds his hand out, a shy smile on his face. 

“Satoru Gojo.” 

You put your hand in his - the touch warm, soft, all the way you remembered it. 

“Y/N L/N.” you respond, mimicking his voice. 

“Y/N, huh? You look more like a Belle to me.” he responds, smirking as he walks out to your cubicle labeled right across. 

You stomp right out, following him into your cubicle, as he takes the seat across from yours and starts eating the candy in your jar. You roll your eyes as you smack his hand, the smile on his face so big it's pissing you off. 

“Just so you know, there’s a very notorious reputation for running out the idiot who takes your position. And trust me, I’ll have you out by the end of the week.” 

“Is that a challenge, princess?” 

“You can’t flirt with me. I’m technically your boss, Satoru.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” he says, sticking one of your caramel candies in your mouth before pushing off your desk and making his way down the other side of the office. 

Six hours later, you’re face planting into the table at dinner, the words echoing through your mind. Along with all the memories you buried deep, deep down and tried to forget. Of running off to the lake all summer, Satoru washing your hair softly in the showers after, of nestling up in his arms to call it a day. 

Of Satoru rubbing circles into your back every time you fought with someone, of you kissing him after every fight he had with his dad, of whispering I love you against each other's lips like it was a sacred oath. 

“You look horrible.” Megumi says, sharing a judgemental look with Itadori. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s just one of those lame interns. Just do what Nobara did - say he smells bad.”  Itadori responds, the three of them laughing. 

You dig your forehead into your forearms, only lifting your head to drink more of Itadori’s beer, as the thoughts race through your head. 

In all honesty, the problem has always been easy to avoid. Two years ago, Satoru smashed your heart into tiny pieces. You decided that you wouldn’t go to Tokyo or Kyoto like you planned and picked up everything and moved to New York instead. 

You didn’t say goodbye. To him or to anyone. Your parents drove you to the airport and Getou gave one of those weird, repressed older brother hugs and then you turned on your heel and never went back. 

You have a nice job. Friends who love you. Your dating life is abysmal at most - a long stream of guys you’ve ghosted, fought, and broken up with. Unfazed, unperturbed - calm, cool, and collected. 

It doesn’t bother you. Because you stuck by your promise. That you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can touch it. But it only takes five minutes of interaction with him and you can feel the concrete walls around your heart turning into clay, softened by the sweetness he’s always possessed, the softness he’s always shared with you. 

You have to drive him out of here as fast as you can. 

--  

Seven weeks later and Satoru remains at the company, steadfast and true. 

It drives you crazy, having him around. So up in your space, his smell lingering in your cubicle even after he walks away. He makes stupid jokes that make you smile so hard that you’re fighting the tears in your eyes and flirts with no shame like it’s breathing air. 

All in all, he’s everything you loved about Satoru, in your head again. In an even more attractive body, because of course time is nice to the asshole and he’s fit in all the right places. 

You ignore him the best you can, until you can’t anymore. 

You make it down to the parking lot, your high heels in your hand as you unlock your car and start loading your stuff into the trunk. 

That’s when you see him, slumped against his car with the hood popped open, with a very, very confused look on his face. You clear your throat loudly, which catches his attention. 

“Oh. Heading out late, Y/N?” 

“Looks like it. You?” 

“Ah. I actually meant to leave early today but my car hasn’t been starting so.” 

You take one look at his pouty face and give in. You slam the trunk of your car shut and whisper the words out, so fast that you can’t even think to regret them. 

“Get in the car.” 

“Huh?” 

“Get in the car, Satoru. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of the weekend, then be my guest.” 

He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen as he all but jogs over and settles into the front seat of your car, slumping down in the seat that’s pushed all the way up. You back up out of the parking garage as he plugs in the address for his apartment, a modest thirty minutes away from the office. 

“You know, you can move the chair back. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do.” 

He laughs and you see his shoulders deflate as he adjusts the seat, his long legs now spread in the open compartment underneath him. 

“What a shame. I’m into that type of thing, Y/N.” 

“Always the perverted one, weren’t you?” you respond, smiling over at him. 

Stop it, Y/N. Stop it. 

“Who the hell sits up here anyway? A toddler?” 

“Oh. It was just this guy I was talking to. He was really short but he always felt the need to monitor my driving so he pulled the seat all the way up to watch the lines.” you respond, turning left onto the street. 

“Ah. One of your many romantic escapades, so I’m told. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the player, Y/N.” he says, leaning against the glass. 

“Learned from the best, Satoru. Except this time, I don’t get overinvolved.” you respond. 

He laughs, leaning back in the chair as you both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension hanging in the air eating at your skin. It hangs in the air, like an embarrassing elephant in the room. 

Satoru’s the one who pokes it. 

“Then, you should get involved with me. Again.” 

You keep your promises to yourself. But Satoru keeps his too. An oath to wear his heart on his sleeve is translated into him fighting to get you back. 

You slam the breaks so hard that his forehead goes straight into the sun visor, a groan leaving his mouth. You apologize and immediately reach forward, cupping the side of his face and eyeing the angry red mark on his forehead. 

“Yikes. I’m sorry, Cyclops. That caught me off guard.” 

“Be careful, there. Almost thought you cared for a second.” he says, smirking. 

You park the car in front of his apartment and look out the window, the words making your head spin. 

“You know, I can tell you want to.” he says.

You turn around and frown, reaching forward to flick into the soft skin of his cheek. 

“Please. You’re not even all that-” 

“You brushed your hand against mine when we walked to the conference room. I caught you staring at me during the company lunch on Thursday. And I know you just stopped talking to the short guy because Itadori told me. What’s the worst that could happen?”  

--

The worst has happened. Because for the second time, you are irrevocably and deeply in love with Satoru Gojo. 

Maybe you never stopped. 

Just like you were when you were seven, you’re incredibly drawn to him, like two magnets being pulled together. What was supposed to be one date, one lousy hookup like every other guy you’ve talked to in the past year turned into a complicated, mushy gushy feelings mess. 

You stayed over at his house that night. But then he was shirtless, singing in the kitchen as he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. And little by little, he’s crawled into every little part of your life. 

He insists on driving you to work, buying you a sugary overpriced latte you would never splurge on for yourself and a pastry to go with it on the way. He claims he doesn’t want any but reaches over the seat to take a bite and then press a chocolatey kiss to your lips. 

He hangs out with you and your friends after work. And like always, he always backs you up in the thousands of petty arguments he has with each of them and then tells you that it turns him on when he drives you home. 

He draws little shapes into your skin every night, asking you to guess the little drawings he’s making while his soft, smooth voice lulls you to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t help but watch him, the little freckles he had when he was seventeen still the same. 

It makes your heart warm. The soft feelings you’ve always had for him, they make you warm. 

Which is why you curse yourself for ever thinking things could be different, when he drops the ball three months later.  

“Can you drive me to the airport on Friday, princess?” he asks, his breaths tickling your nose. 

“Where are you going, Toru?” you murmur, burrowing yourself deeper into his skin. 

“Home. The job posting was temporary, remember?” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“Oh. Are- you’re not going to look for a job here?’ 

“Nah. Time’s up right?” he says, the question hanging in the air. 

And when you wake up the next morning, to find him in your kitchen with a bowl of cereal all poured out for you and a bouquet of flowers, you can’t help but yell at him. After the shit he pulled last night. 

“You should probably go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. Since you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“We can do it tomorrow, Belle. Most of my stuff is here anyway.” he says, holding the bowl close to his mouth as he leans over the counter. 

“I can’t take you tomorrow. Megs said he will so you can ask him for help. He-he’s actually on his way now to get you.” you murmur, crossing your hands against your chest. 

He frowns, coming up close to you to wrap his arms around you which you quickly side shuffle out of. You push past him and walk into the kitchen, clutching the countertop hard. Satoru smiles to himself before he turns around, knowing he’s won the war. 

“Do you want me to stay, Belle?” 

You roll your eyes, the audacity of him even suggesting that just pissing you off more. Irritated, because of course he said that. Agitated, because he can read you like a book. 

“No, Satoru. Go home.” 

“You sure? Because it seemed like-” 

“Do you really think it would bother me if you left, Satoru? Do you really think you’re different from any other guy I talked to?” 

Satoru frowns, the angry look on your face the opposite of the love-struck, warm confession he was expecting. But then again, this was you. Argumentative to your core - so he just needs to wrangle it out of you. 

“I know I’ve been here longer than the rest of them, that’s for sure.” 

“And do you think that makes you special, Satoru? Do you sincerely, genuinely think any of that means I would want you to stay right now?” 

“Well, wait- I’m not just any other guy now, you and I, we-” 

“We what? Have history? A long term fling doesn’t make us soulmates, Satoru.” 

“That wasn’t a fling. You and I were-” 

“You and I were no different than what we are now, Satoru. You should have known to not get over involved. I told you from the start that this is how it would be. You leaving didn’t faze me the first time and it won’t faze me the second time either, sweetheart.” 

Satoru moves past you, yanking his hoodie on and grabbing his key off the hook as he swings the door open. And when he shuts the door behind you, his tear-stained face being the last thing you see, you sink onto the floor and can’t help but sob. 

For the first boy you ever loved. Who burned you so bad, that you burned him too. Who soothed over every angry, irritating, argumentative part of you, until it was something you unleashed on him too. 

You wonder why you let yourself into these sinkholes in the first place. 

--

“Hey, man. Have a safe flight home, okay? It was nice getting to know you.” Itadori says, lugging the last of Satoru’s luggage out of the back. 

Satoru gives Itadori one last hug before Megumi starts lugging his bags into the terminal with him, the intense feelings from the day prior still hanging on his chest. 

“You-you’ll take care of her right? After I’m gone?” Satoru asks, as he pulls into the line. 

“Who?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I will. This time around though, I’m not letting Itadori and Nobara invite her to the bar.” 

Satoru smiles, the thought of you drunk, making his heart ache. One of his many favorite sights is you on your fourth glass of wine - when your lips are all pink and when you climb all over him, whispering the corniest, cheesiest things that come to mind. 

“Princess. You’re kind of cutting off my circulation here.” 

“Sss-sorry, Satoru. Wanted to get closer.” you whisper, tangling your arms around his neck and readjusting in his lap. 

“What’s closer than this princess? You’re literally on top of me right now.” he responds, cupping your face to push the hair away from your face. 

“Not close enough.” 

“The only thing closer than this is if you crawled into my skin and became a part of my bloodstream.” 

“Is there a way to do that? Because I would.” 

“You wanna be that close to me, huh princess?” 

“Even when I’m sitting right next to you, right on top of you, literally skin to skin - I still can’t get enough of you. I want to be this close, all the time.” 

Satoru shakes the memory from his mind as the people behind him gesture him to move forward in line, his heart hanging heavier in his chest. 

“She always drinks too much, doesn’t she?” he says. 

“Well, yeah. It’s usually funny. But now she’s going to go back into her moping, angsty teenager phase for the next seven months. I’ll probably be dragging her out of that bar on her legs, for all I know.” 

“Y/N? Angsty? That’s real funny.” 

“No, I’m telling you. When we first met her, all this girl did was cry in the bar. Her sadness was like…contagious or whatever it was making me depressed. One time she sang All Too Well, on the countertop while sobbing until the bartender literally had to kick her ass out.” 

“The first guy she dated when she moved here was that bad, huh?” 

“No. Itadori and Nobara have this running theory, they’ve been trying to figure out who he is for a while. The one thing we know for sure is that he’s definitely from her hometown and that she broke up with him right before she moved here.” 

And that’s when Satoru gets it. That you’re a goddamn liar. And that you definitely did want him to stay. 

Satoru does the only thing he can. Drops everything and runs straight out the airport to make his way back to your apartment. He’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice. 

--

You look up from your spot, sprawled on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor, when you hear a key turn in the lock. You immediately sit up to find Satoru, an almost angry look on his face, when he storms in and bends down in front of you. 

“Forget your diapers, grandpa?” 

“Shut up, Y/N.” 

“It’s a long flight. You don’t want to have an accident do you?” 

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing hard so you can’t get another word. And what he says next, the same words he uttered to you in that stupid lake, sober you u pearl fast. 

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” 

You swallow hard as he gives you a satisfied smile, giving him a soft nod. 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

“God, Satoru. Just quit it with this shit, I already told you no and I mean-” 

“You also told me that it didn’t faze you when we broke up the first time. But then I find out, you were slurring my name in bars and crying about it for months.” 

“So? Do you want a cookie or something?” 

“So you’re a liar. And now I want to know the truth. Do you want me to stay?” 

His eyes are burning, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. The gaze itself is piercing, making the ends of your hair stand up on your arms and legs. You shake his hand off your face as you stand up, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen. 

“I don’t want you to stay.” 

“Yes, you do. You’re lying, Y/N.” 

“No, I’m not. One measly piece of information my friends mention in passing doesn’t mean it’s about you, Satoru.” 

He brings his hands around your wrist, curling his fingers around the skin and squeezing twice. 

“I made the dumbest mistake of my life. I had an opportunity, a real one to be honest about how I felt and I fucked it up, okay? I’ve regretted it every day since you walked away. You were going to go to school - with me. We were going to be together. But then you picked up everything and move to the other side of the fucking planet to halfheartedly date all these guys without a care in the world.” 

“What does stating facts do for you, Satoru? What is it you want me to say?” 

“You know what I want to hear. Say it, Belle.” 

“What? That I left because of you? That I loved you so much that it made my heart hurt? That every second I’m around you it only feels like my love gets bigger for you? That the only person I can’t bring myself to get over is you? Because what does me saying that do for me because you’re just going to-” 

Satoru smiles before he closes the space between you, pushing you into the counter and cradling your cheeks in his hand. He’s leaning into the kiss, so hard that you can feel almost his entire body weight on you as his lips press against yours. 

He’s shaking hard and smiling into the kiss, pulling you back in every time you try to stop, his hands running in your hair as he laughs into your mouth. 

“Was it so hard to tell me that you wanted me to stay?” he whispers, giggling into your ear as he presses kisses into your neck. 

“Was it so hard to tell me you wanted to? You just had to come have this big moment with me here when-” 

“Yes, I did. You deserved a big, lengthy love confession when you were seventeen, at that stupid party. I’m trying to do right by you through this dramatic shit now.” 

“Because this is doing right by me? Making me cry and then running back?” 

“It’s romantic, princess. I ran out of an airport for you.” 

“After we argued. That kind of puts a damper on it.” 

“Oh, shut up. You know argumentative girls have always been my thing.” 

You place your hands around his face, yanking his head out of the crook of your neck as you hold his face in your hands, the skin soft. He still has all the little freckles, the same eyes and nose that you loved when you were seventeen. 

That you love. You love him. 

“Satoru.” 

“Yeah?” 

“How did you get a key to my house?” 

He rolls his eyes as he breaks out of your hold, sticking his tongue out at you. 

“That would have been a really sweet moment for a confession. You ruined it, princess.” 

You smile as you make your way into his arms again, looking up at him from his hold. 

“I made a copy of your key, Y/N.” 

“That’s illegal, Toru. Breaking and entering.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. Everyone has their vices.” 

You bring your hands back up to his cheeks again, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks as you press a kiss to the side of his cheek. 

“Isn’t love the greatest vice, Toru?” you whisper. 

“Maybe for me. Every normal thing hits different when it comes to you.” he says, closing the space between you two again.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[morningstarwrites]

hi pooks ^_^ here's an idea of euphemisms and sexual innuendos you can use to keep the Frustrated Angel Dust thing going hehe >:3 *Alastor being annoying* Lucifer: SHUT UP OR IM GONNA SMASH YOU, BELLHOP >:[ (theyre arguing affectionately) Angel: you're gonna do WHAT Lucifer: i'm gonna beat this deer bitch up Angel: you have GOT to learn your slang, your majesty Alastor, who also doesn't know slang: :>? Lucifer, to Alastor: Hey, can you help me in the kitchen? Alastor: Help you with what, sire? Lucifer: I told you to call me Lucifer. Alastor: Fine. Help you with what, Lucifer? Lucifer: Putting the bread in the oven! Angel: i'm sorry WHAT?? Lucifer: Oh hello Angel Dust! I'm making banana bread :D Angel: OH FOR FUCKS SAKE Charlie, calling Lucifer on speakerphone: Hey dad, where are you? Lucifer: Oh, I'm with the bellhop. We're sending an email to the spam folder. Angel: EXCUSE ME? Lucifer: Is that Angel Dust? Angel: WITH ALL DUE RESPECT YOUR HIGHNESS WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT Alastor: Charlie, your incompetent father is trying to make me help him communicate through one of those miniature noisy picture boxes you call a "computer". Lucifer: Yeah... in hindsight, I probably should've asked you, sweetie. Angel: I SWEAR TO FUCK- Charlie, calling Lucifer on speakerphone again (it's a different day now): Dad, are you with Al? Lucifer: Yep! We're entering the castle now! Angel: HUH? Charlie, exasperated: Angel, he means they're literally going into Dad's castle! Angel: *screams*

OHHH LMAO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LIST!!! And including Alastor, who ALSO doesn't know any slang, is hilarious as hell, wtf.

I LOVE IT!!!

[normal-thoughts-official]

karlach gushing about wyll to fytz always makes me all mushy inside. like. wyll has probably had his praises sung by a million bards, most of whom don't even know what he looks like, much less his name. but he hasn't felt like he's enough a day in his life since he became the blade of frontiers. if anything, that persona only made him see wyll ravengard as lesser and lesser

karlach, in contrast, doesn't give a fuck about the blade of frontiers. she's not exalting his battle prowess with edited and sometimes made up notions of what a hero is like. she's not talking of a legend. she's talking about her boyfriend wyll, isn't he handsome, and you should see how well he dances, i swear the man knows every style this side of the sword coast. he's travelled everywhere, im telling you, and none of that fancy shmancy touristy bullshit either, he knows all the locals and really learned everything about their culture and i learned so much about it from him. i was raised in baldur's gate my whole life and then i was out of the loop for a godsdamned decade and it's like every time we talk he takes me across the whole world, everywhere I've never met. it's crazy. and everyone loves him too. we get a discount everywhere we go, i swear, he once got 40 camp supplies for free in the shadow cursed lands! the poor fuckers in there couldn't even grow grass, everyone was eating stale bread and spoiled tarts and he just scored a full meal scot free out of some lady he had just met! didn't even say anything, just asked and she was like "yeah sure, here's a camp supplies pack for free". what's even the point of buying anything after that! it's not even magic because he refuses to use charm people on civilians, he's such a gentleman, he's just that charming. and the kids! he always stops to teach them and after a while even the kids from elturel didn't care about me anymore, it was all wyll this, wyll that, "yes karlach we've heard about how you defeated a cambion but it's cooler when uncle wyll tells it". ha! little turds. and the grandmas, man, i swear some of them straight up try to steal him from me-

it literally just keeps going and wyll can feel the heat spreading on his face but he's so pleased. he never knew being praised could feel this good, be coated in lightness instead of expectations, make him feel seen instead of heard of, make him feel whole and enough instead of constantly chasing a shadow of himself. and the love is so real and palpable because it's all stuff he does like it's breathing; it's part of who he is, it's wyll down to the bone and that's what she loves. and he's not sure he's ever been loved like this before, has ever enjoyed a compliment not because it felt some approval void he had in his chest but because it made him feel whole and enough. aooougggghjhhhhhhh