#Which I'm sorry if it bothers anyone terribly so!

[filthygalli]

When I Met You: Chapter 3 "Iced Americano"

Fem!Reader x Neighbor! Hwang In-Ho

Main Master list

Squid Game Master list

Genre/Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, Light smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, Age gap (Reader is in her early 30’s, While In-Ho is in his late 40’s.) Rude In-Ho (but will eventually be soft with the reader Soon!) Literature Professor! In-Ho (Not specified what kind of literature) More Tags to come soon!

Warnings: MDNI!Masturbation, Cursing, A little cliffhanger for the pt.2 (Coming this week also), Short chapter (ik, sorry), Reader thinking that In-Ho is not just a Literature Professor, Not proof read.

Word Count: 1142

Author's Note: This chapter is quite short, I have my whole idea for the chapter 4, I'll 'tease' you guys a bit here, but I feel like it's some terrible writing? Anyways let me know what you think, and thank you so much for y'all's support! 🥹🖤

© Pictures that are used are from Pinterest.

You knocked on In-Ho's door to pick up Yu-Jin so In-Ho wouldn't bother to drop Yu-Jin at your house. You knocked patiently, hearing the doorknob twist as the door swung open, his gaze turning soft when he saw you, “Y/n? ” You smiled. “Good morning, In-Ho, I'm here to pick up Yu-Jin. So you won't take your time dropping him off at my house.” You looked up at him, scanning his reaction. Was he expecting you to come early this morning? To be honest, he got caught off guard; he thought you were some random person who wanted to ruin his morning, but it turns out it's a person who always makes his morning perfect. He paused for a moment before answering, scanning your eyes carefully, “Good morning to you too, Y/n.” He gave you a slight smile, which made you sigh in relief a little, ‘He's not in a bad mood,’ you thought, “Are you going to take him for a walk? ” He asked, leaning on the door frame, your breath hitched a little, “I—yeah—I was thinking of grabbing a coffee on the way there too…” In-Ho noticed your reaction to what he just did; he smirked a little, not too obvious for you to notice, “Hmm, I see…” You both looked at each other, “You know what…” He paused for a moment to rethink his thought, “What is it? ” You slightly tilted your head, curious about what he was going to say. “I’ll drive you and Yu-Jin to the coffee shop near the campus, We can both grab a coffee there before I go to work,” He looked at you for a moment before smiling, “It’s the least I could do.” He added, You admired his smile, the smile that you’ve never seen before, Maybe Yu-Jin sees it everytime, But you don’t, well, you do now, and his smile is one of the gorgeous smiles you’ve ever seen, “Y/n?” He said snapping you back to reality, You chuckled awkwardly as you nodded, “I’d love that.” You smiled up at him brightly, He opened the door just enough for you to get in, He leaned in a little as he said “Wait inside.” as if he’s telling you a secret that not even anyone else should hear. You went inside his home immediately greeted by Yu-Jin who lays down on his back asking for belly rubs. You chuckled in excitement as you crouched down to rub Yu-Jin’s belly. “He likes you too much,” He said looking down at you, “Hmm?” You looked up at him giving him a puppy eyes looks, ‘Fuck,’ he thought as he looks away for a moment before saying, “It’s nothing, make yourself comfortable, Y/n.” he said before going upstairs, You nodded as you picked up Yu-Jin bringing him on In-Ho’s leather chair. “Did you miss me, Yu-Jin?” You asked the cat who’s sitting on the arm of the leather chair, The cat meowed, “I missed you too–!” You chuckled, “I missed him too…” You muttered as you thought of In-Ho. You started to think of In-Ho, You thought of what’s his favorite food, Book, Movies? Does he even listen to songs? If yes, What kind and what’s his favorite songs? You thought of the things that what might Thee Hwang In-Ho like, You don’t really know him that well, You just know that he’s a literature professor, He owns a cat which is Yu-Jin, That he’s a stubborn and grumpy person, ‘Oh–he also likes black coffee’ you muttered to yourself, ‘Hmm..well he smells like one though..’ You chuckled to yourself remembering the time where you first met Yu-Jin and your second encounter with In-Ho. He smelled like a black coffee. He seems like an elegant person based on how he looks and style himself, the way his house looks so simple yet it screams ‘Old money’ type of thing–And let’s not forget his car, That Black Mercedes, God–Is he really a literature professor or a mafia? Because no one would buy such an expensive car by just teaching, ‘Maybe he has other work?’ You thought, ‘’What would it be though…?’’ You said to yourself as you chuckled to yourself for thinking such things.

In-Ho went to his room as he closed the door behind him. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. He can’t take it anymore. The way you looked at him with that pouty look of yours sends him over the edge. You’ve been inside his head for a while—how calm and angelic your voice sounds, how soft your skin, how light your touches are, how you look so innocent and dumb when you’re with him… He wants you badly. He spent so many sleepless nights thinking about you, about your every encounter with him, how he purposely does things that he would think would make you go crazy, and he’s right. He feels his cock getting hard by the thoughts of you, He can’t do this right now, Not when you’re just down stairs, “Fuck, Not now In-Ho..” he growled, His body betrayed him, he groans at the feeling of his aching cock throbbing inside his pants, “Fuck.” He muttered as he unzipped his pants and pulls out his cock, Pre-cum beaded on the tip of his cock, he spat on his palm and used it as a lube to palm his aching cock, He groans from the feeling, he started to pump his cock up and down, God he wish that you’re the one who’s doing this to him, He started to sped up his pace, “Ah- fu-” He moaned as he thinks about you, How perfect your body is, How soft your voice is, god knows how will you sound like if he fucks you on his leather chair, Back pressed against his bare chest as he whisper sweet nothings to your ears, He bets to himself that your soft lips would look good wrapped around his cock, He feels himself getting closer his hands are getting tired–He wants to cum badly, wanting to release his cum that he’s been keeping for days since he thought of you, “Fuck–Y/n–!” He bit his lip, not wanting you to hear his moans, his moans that were dedicated to you. He came as he groaned from the feeling, the feeling of releasing days of tension between him and you; he whimpered as he pumped the last drop of his cum. As cum drips from his hand, staining his black pants, he pants as he groans in annoyance. He feels disgusted by what he just did. Jerking himself by the thought of you, he just wishes that you didn’t hear him moaning your name like a broken record as he chased his high a while ago. It’ll be a long day for him, and well for you too.

Author's Note:

Happy 200 followers!!! Thank you so much for the support🥹 I made this account I think 2 years ago if I'm not mistaken—i just wanted to read fan fictions to try it, eventually, writing caught my interest because I got so inspired by other writers to write my own depending on my own imagination, and I'm glad I started writing because writing is one of my gifts nowwww! Thank you so much everyone!🥹🖤

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[sunny44]

The exes club

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader

Warnings: ex wags.

Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829

Yourusername the exes club is reunited again

Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship

Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna

Isahernáez I miss this so much

Yourusername and I missed you

Luisinhaoliveira love you babes

Yourusername love you more girlfriend

Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun

Liked by Yourusername

Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends

Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together

User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag

F1lovelywags

Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.

Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.

She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.

Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.

Yourusername instagram stories

“It’s race weekend”

I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.

It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.

We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.

But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"

"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.

"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"

"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."

"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.

I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.

"Y/n, long time no see."

"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too, just the usual dramas."

"I saw; people don't have much sense.”

"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."

"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."

"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."

"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"

"I wanted to see you," he said simply.

"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."

"Why? Are you ashamed?"

"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"

"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have called me or sent a message."

"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.

"All right, I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."

"It's not your fault."

"Are you sure? The fans are mine."

"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."

Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.

"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."

My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.

"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."

He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.

"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.

"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"

And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“Ops, I guess the exes club is over for me”

[cherryheairt]

O Hello, can you write about Gwayne? I really like the way you write.

EI was thinking something like enemies to lovers. Instead of Baela, she is the one who flies over the dragon. They met at the dinner Viserys prepared before he died in the first season.

At the end of the dance Gwayne is forced to bend the knee and accept Rhaenyra as queen. Her daughter doesn't miss the opportunity to make his life hell, until he corners her in a hallway and takes her like a dragon.

hello! I love this prompt, I miss gwayne already 💔

Beckae is the name I gave MC, just to add to the immersion of a Targ-Velyron lol, pronounced Becky still. No description for the reader (mother is Rhaenyra but father is anyone made up, lets say that the reader looks a spitting image of their father to keep it neutral. fem pronouns. I couldn't include the smut at the end, just a lil steam. I'm sorry 😞, I'm terrible at writing those scenes.

noticed that Gwayne's costume included a ring on a chain, a thing typically done by people who want to keep their wedding ring on them, but not lose them. It gave the the main idea for this lol

Dance of Green and Black

When Gwayne Hightower and Beckae Velayron were forced to wed by order of Rhaenyra Targaryen, both did not bother to hide their vexation. They were married mere days after Rhaenyra won the Iron Throne, her loyal men killing Aegon ii in his state of disarray from his burns.

Now, months later, they had left their marriage uncomsumated and drier than the sandy hills of Dorne. They refused to sleep in shared marital chambers at the Red Keep, having agreed on that one thing. Gwayne reluctantly took his father's place at court, staying among the very snakes that brought him here in the first place. He cursed himself for ever responding to Alicent's letter when Aegon first took the throne. If he hadn't, he'd be living his life peacefully alone at the Old Tower.

Now, his days were spent being tormented by the spoilt Princess. She attended each council meeting, laughing snidely at every suggestion Gwayne gave his Queen, and suggesting one of her own in turn. She got away with this every time, seeing as her grandmother was the Hand of the Queen, Rhaenys, and her mother was the Queen.

Gwayne sipped on his wine, which he had taken to indulging in every council, listening to the drowl words of the nobles around him. His wife shared his boredom, apparently, twirling her own glass in her hand. Beside him, she huffed every few minutes. He resisted the urge to ask her to excuse herself if she were so bored. Suddenly, a wet 'splash' fell to his lap, dampening his breeches.

"Oops..." Fluttered the Princess, who covered her mouth in surprise. "That was an accident, I assure you." Though Gwayne could care less if it was genuine or not, he was already scooting his chair out and storming out of the council room. Shocked faces around the table landed on Beckae, who at least had the gaul to look embarrassed. Rhaenyra raised a brow at her daughter, nodding her chin toward the door shortly.

The Princess swiftly followed after her husband, not truly caring for his embarrassment but moreso glad to be given an excuse for leaving the room. If she had known putting her mother on the Iron Throne would have been so dreadfully boring, she would've taken her dragon to Pentos and lived out her days as an old maid.

Gwayne reached his private chambers first, long legs able to carry him so much faster. He took off his trousers and small clothes, left with his bottom half bare to the world. Beckae followed after him, gasping and turning around at the sight before her. Shit, she thought. Perhaps she should've waited at his doors.

"Here to empty your goblet entirely? Go ahead, I'm used to it." He sneered, rolling his eyes at her sudden bashfulness. It would not be the first time she witnessed such a thing. For modesty's sake, he slipped on a fresh pair of linens.

"I am merely here to apologize, husband. Not patronize." She mumbled, face hot.

"Hm." He stepped forward, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at him. "Where was this attitude when you were chasing after me on your dragon? I think your true colors much suit you, wife."

She grit her teeth, annoyed at his haughty behavior. "It was war. If I hadn't been on my dragon and your party happened upon me, I'd have been killed by Criston Cole without remorse."

"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen." He insisted confidently.

She snorted, "when had that man ever listened to you? He hardly heeded the usurper's orders when he was alive."

"Do you think I would have let you die, especially such a dishonorable death?" Gwayne questioned, squeezing her cheeks harder.

She grimaced, "we were not wed, then. Barely acquainted, to add."

He looked disappointed at her snarky reply. "I may not hold much affection for you, wife, but I have always shown myself to be an honorable man, have I not?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "I would say we were not acquaintances, either. Were we acquainted when I bestowed upon your head the crown of The Queen of Love and Beauty at your nameday tourney?"

"That's different. You had to name me that. It is the expectation of a tourney winner to name the celebration's main subject with that title." She said.

"I could've named someone else, even so. Was our little tryst that night meaningless?"

"You cannot use that against me, Gwayne. It is shameful enough that I allowed myself to do such a dishonest thing." She grabbed his wrist lightly, urging it away from its grip. He listened, moving it to a more gentle caresse at the base of her neck, tangled in her hair.

"I do not regret it." He said, softly. "Nor do I regret the night we spent together after the dinner with our families."

"Gwayne," she pleaded, avoiding his intense gaze. While their marriage was yet to be officially consumated, she was far from a maiden. He was to thank for that, of course. How ironic that they ended up married only after they begun to resent each other.

Gwayne resented his entrapment here. She resented his family and his actions during the war.

"What, Princess? I only speak the truth and you know it. Do you regret it?"

She remained silent, hands placed on his chest as if to ground herself.

Gwayne took that as his answer. "We do not have to live this way. We could leave—return to my home in Old Town. You can have your privacy, do whatever you please whenever you'd like. I beg you, it is torturous here for me, and I know you share that sentiment. I will not ask for heirs, I have my brother for that. You can take a lover, a paramour of your choice." He promised her, grabbing her hands and bringing them together. On his knees, he looked the proper image of a knight, kneeling like such. To beg for his Lady to do him this one favor, to release him from court.

"I do not want a lover." She said lowly. "I want for you."

His eyes widened, then his brows furrowed together in bemusement. "You have taken it upon yourself to belittle me publically every day, do you expect me to now believe that you do not resent me?" He scoffed bitterly.

The Princess looked away from him, unknowing of how to phrase her next words. "That is true, I will admit to my teasings–"

"I would hardly call them teasings." He cut in.

She glared at him, continuing. "–or torments, perhaps. No one truly enjoys court, it is both of us who are trapped her together. If I hadn't been forced to marry you, we would have both been free to live where we wished."

"Your mother is Queen, if you only ask she will provide."

"You overestimate my influence, Gwayne. She wants your advisory in council–for Gods know what–and she knows you being married to me keeps you loyal to her."

"Then I will stop being useful. I will be the worst advisor that council has ever seen." His face lit uo in a smirk, as if we were a profound genius.

"Do you not think she will see through this rouse."

"You will be my aid, dear Lady. You need only continue your extremely rude and annoying actions, only louder and more aggressive, so that they will have no choice but to kick you out from future meetings. In addition, my uselessness will send me with you out of the Keep to be rid of us both. If we hate each other in their eyes, they will not suspect that we are working together." He explains.

She carefully thinks it over. True, they would not want wither of them uselessly loitering around the Keep after they were kicked out of the council. She nodded firmly, agreeing to his plan. If all things went to shit and they were discovered to be playing a rouse, the only consequence would be a scolding. What was stopping them?

🏰

Gwayne and Beckae went through their little routine for weeks. The Princess rudely commenting on the entire council's opinions now, not just Gwayne's. Not rude enough to be kicked out immediately, but for irritated glares to be regularly shot at her. If looks could kill, Beckae would have been buried long ago. Gwayne, for his part, entirely stopped giving his opinions. If asked, he exaggeratedly thought for a long time before giving false information.

The weeks passed with many stressed advisors going through the boring meetings with many complaints to the Queen and her Hand. With Gwayne and his wife, however, they started to bond over their mischiefs. Late at night, after their duties were done, the two shared laughter and pleasent conversation over their cups.

When Rhaenyra pulled the married couple aside one morning, before the meeting started, Gwayne and Beckae felt giddy with anticipation.

"You two...I have been thinking for a while now. I think it is time you retired from court and traveled back to Old Town, to raise your children and take care of your House directly from it." The Queen avoided her true reasoning, skirting politely around the Hightower man.

They both nodded solemnly, agreeing with her choice. "We will miss the Keep, Mother. I expect next time I visit, you will perhaps be blessed with a grandchild." Beckae said, hugging her mother, who looked relieved.

Gwayne's brows raised at her words but agreed with them in front of the Queen. Soon, she left the married couple alone.

They shared a loud laugh together, holding each other at their small win. "Free at last!" The Princess cheered, earning a hearty chuckle from her husband.

"Indeed, wife. What were you saying, blessed with a grandchild? Are you so eager to be bed in your new home?" He asked teasingly.

She felt her face grow unrelentingly hot, scoffing. "I was only appeasing her." She said.

Gwayne hummed disbelievingly, nodding along. "I'm sure you were, wife."

At her gawking defenses, he only laughed and walked to his chambers to pack.

🏰

After a sickening three months on the road to Old Town, Beckae and Gwayne were more than ready to sleep on cushioned beds.

So ready, in fact, that they didn't bother to split into separate chambers. Both in Gwayne's chambers, the Princess and Gwayne relaxed in his spacious bed.

"I can not tell you how much I missed a proper bed." She sighed loudly, groaning in pleasure at the comfort. He did the same, humming his own praise.

Well into the night, the two merely talked and sipped on cups of sweet wine. In only their night shifts, Beckae could clearly spot a ring shining on his chest. She grabbed it, pulling it towards her slightly, fingerd brushing over his bare chest and earning a shiver from him. He leaned in with the ring, the chain pulling him by the neck.

"I did not notice this. I had thought you threw your wedding ring away the second you left the feast." She said softly, smiling at the sight of his matching ring.

"Of course not. I am not so cruel." He said, grabbing her own ring-adorned hand and gently placing a kiss on top of the ring. She giggled at the ticklish feeling, earning a smirk from Gwayne. He smirked, continuing to place feathery kisses up her arm, to her shoulder, then neck. The sensitive skin being so softly kissed made her shiver in turn, sighing pleasently. He paused before reaching her lips, grabbing her chin softly in his hand. Silently he asked for her approval.

Nodding, she was immediately drowned in a hot kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as she moaned. She moved her hands to his red hair, tugging at it. He moved her onto her back, hands squeezing her waist playfully. They pulled apart, lips swollen and panting.

The ring hung down to her own chest as he leaned over her. She twirled the ring in her finger, pleased at the sight of it. He was hers, and she was his. Entirely. She brought him down in a kiss again, pulling his chest to her own and adoring the heat that he brought with him.

That night, they comsumated their marriage in a way that no one could deny, every servant in the Tower being able to hear their Lord and Lady making heirs.

🏰

[honeyscara]

❝ You're a reason ❞ – Chuuya. N

| Stormbringer | includes spoilers

Synopsis: comforting chuuya after the police officer was killed.

Content: fluff, gender neutral reader

-800 words

You were standing with Adam and Shirase, staring at Chuuya who was sitting on top of a very tall building.

Minutes ago, his older brother, Verlaine had killed murase, a detective in front of Chuuya. Chuuya was still in shock. His brain had short-circuited at the sight of his brother killing so many people so dear to him. He blamed himself because of what Verlaine did but he couldn’t do anything.

He felt so guilty. He couldn't save them. His mind kept replaying the same images over and over again. Lippmann's dead body falling from the car, albatross, iceman, piano man, and Doc's bodies in the pool hall where they met for the first time and the officer who was killed in front of him.

You couldn't just stand there. You had to talk to Chuuya. So you used your ability to reach the top of the building where Chuuya was.

"wait where are you going?!" you heard Adam yell but you ignored him.

Once you reached the top of the building you walked over to where Chuuya was sitting. He was sitting on the edge with his head in his hands and his feet were dangling off the side of the building. You sat next to him and placed your hand on his shoulder.

"oh..it's you" He looked up, surprised to see you there. You noticed tears in his eyes and that made you feel terrible.

"It's not your fault chuuya.." you said softly.

He didn't reply back and just looked down at the city below. You've never seen him cry before. He always acted like nothing bothered him but deep down it did. He was just a kid, like you. You felt terrible for him. He shouldn't be blaming himself because of what happened. It's not his fault. It's Verlaine's.

You took his hands in yours and held it tightly. "everything's gonna be okay."

"w-why?" he questioned, still looking down, his voice soft and vulnerable.

"W-Why did they have to die.." his voice cracked as he tried to remain composed in front of you.

"shh it's okay you can cry..just let it all out" You said softly, rubbing circles with your thumbs on his hands. He looked up at you, tears rolling freely down his cheeks now.

Suddenly he hugged you. You gasped in surprise at the sudden closeness but hugged him back. Tears began flowing freely again, staining your shirt. He gripped onto your shirt and you embraced him tightly and patted his back.

"It's okay I'm here" You comforted him while he cried.

After a few minutes, he stopped crying and pulled away from you. He averted his gaze from you feeling embarrassed.

"I won't tell anyone about this" You smiled and reassured him.

"look here," you said wiping his tears away with your thumb. A red blush dusted his cheeks at this action, and he blushed furiously.

"I don't want Verlaine to kill you too," he said in a shaky voice.

"Huh?" You were confused.

"He said he would kill anyone that would give me a reason to stay in Yokohama ....and you're one of the reasons why..." he said quietly while fidgeting with his fingers.

"what do you mean?" You asked innocently.

"It means I like you, idiot," he said exasperatedly. Then he turned away to hide his face which was bright red.

Your heart fluttered at his sudden confession. Your mind went blank for a moment. Did he say it or were you imagining it?

"oh... I-" you were still processing what he'd just said when he leaned in and kissed you.

When he pulled away you were still in a daze. You didn't know how to react to what he had just done. When you finally snapped out of your daze, he was looking at you, waiting for your response. The look in his eyes was so gentle and genuine.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't.." he began

You pecked him on the lips and smiled softly at him. "don't apologize next time"

His face lit up and his lips curved upwards into a smile. Suddenly, the two of you heard a loud voice coming from behind. You both froze at the sound and looked behind to see Adam.

"Master Chuuya finally confessed!!!" Adam yelled, clearly excited.

"What the hell man, Give me some privacy and stop calling me that!!" he shouted and tried to cover his burning face but Adam was already grinning at him and taking pictures. Chuuya glared at him while his face turned pink.

Chuuya was still embarrassed being caught by Adam but you were smiling brightly and laughing softly.

"if you two are done can we go back to discussing our plan about killing Verlaine?" another person said from behind Adam. It was shirase.

"why the hell are you here too?!" chuuya yelled

I had to write one stormbringer fic cause chuuya went through a lot. I just wished he had someone on whom he could rely and show his true emotions.

I might write a full length fic of this too. I had started one but I'm currently writing a lot so that's on hold.

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[acid-ixx]

last night, i just had a terrible nightmare where someone sent in a really long ask that was straight up hating and criticizing every part of my writing. calling out the insecurities/faults, plot inconsistencies, and insulting my writing style—

which i admit: yeah, it's wordy and really long, sometimes i focus too much on one scene or on the emotions solely, and i focus on every single detail; i'm a very emotional and hypersensitive person who likes to overanalyze on the scenes and characters. i acknowledge that it's unconventional and unprofessional at times; but it's what makes me happy and it's up to readers to continue reading or not despite the length. it's my own writing, i write content for free and everything i post are indulgent on my part, hence why i explicitly state i don't really wish for constructive criticism since again, it's all for free and it's all done for fun.

though, in that dream, it came to the point where the ask straight up told me i should just quit writing, that whatever i'm writing for is utter trash (overrated, it says. there are better writers out there and, yeah, i agree. i've the passion and drive but not so much for talent) and not worth the effort to read. so i did what was told and deactivated my account and went on to never write anymore fanfics after just how shaken up i was, then i woke up HAHAHAH.

and it genuinely felt so real, ngl. i couldn't get it off of my mind even until now, so here i am rambling about it. sorry if anyone expected me to post a drabble, or a fanfic; but right now i need more time to ponder upon whether or not i should change my writing style 'cause chapter five pt 2 will be posted soon but it's longer and who knows? maybe my worst nightmare may come true if i post it and it's subpar, not up to expectation.

and if people don't really wish for something long that borders on boring or filler scenes, then maybe, maybe not i will change how i write (but i probably won't lmao). either way, i have to remind myself that i am writing for myself, and posting it to simply archive in this account. i just hope people won't be as cruel as that mystery person in my dreams if i ever do

it's genuinely the audience's choice to read my works or not if the length or style bothers them. and as entitled as i may sound, i wish to remind some that writing a chapter with more than 10k words is my choice, and it's an arduous process too that takes hours of my time. writing fanfics is for me is purely indulgent and are reflections of my real life experiences, if it's lengthy, then yes i chose it to be, but it's not like i'm writing a thesis or an essay, i'm writing a goddamn fanfic with stereotypical tropes (most especially yandere) because it what makes me enjoy my passion as an author.

i apologize again for the long ramble, i really just need this out of my thoughts. this is my own blog too so yeah 😭. if you guys follow me solely for my fanfics, then filter out the "🍨... yael's talking" tag if you wish to avoid these types of talks.

[feedthepheasants]

By Firelight

Remember this post from a while back, and this one from the other day? Well, if you were hoping to read the full fic, look no further than this post! (unless you want to pop over to my Ao3...)

pairing: Gale X f!Tav

wc: 2,785

[nsfw] there is sex in here. there is a mirror. there is hair pulling. there is some edging. there is dominant gale. there is also soft gale. i'm terrible at tagging things like this. i'm sorry. ENJOY!

The storm had come upon the city of Waterdeep before anyone had realized. Other than the pattering of the rain along the windows, the house had been fairly quiet. Tav had tried to do anything to keep her hands busy – tidying in the kitchen, folding her laundry, sketching – and failed. She’d also tried to get comfortable by the now-crackling hearth and read, but found she couldn’t force herself to sit still for that long. So instead, she’d decided to make her way down to the study to bother Gale. 

He’d been so enthralled with the papers before him that he hadn’t heard her soft approaching footsteps; taking advantage of the moment, Tav watches him hum as he works, almost glowing in the candlelight. Gale pulls out his quill and scrawls a few notes on one of the pieces of parchment before turning his attention to another. 

Without saying a word, Tav walks in, making her presence known. She’s halfway to the desk before he looks up, smiling when he sees her. “Hello, my darling,” Gale says quietly, setting down the paper and quill and turning in his chair. 

“Hi,” Tav replies, returning the smile. She rounds the edge of the desk before coming to a halt, leaning back against the edge of the surface. “How’s your work coming along?” 

“Still quite a bit to do,” Gale sighs, glancing at the parchment scattered before him. “But not too much. Is everything alright?” 

Tav nods. “Just restless,” she answers, glancing out the window at the sky. “I thought I would go for a walk around the city this afternoon, but I don’t think the storm will be letting up any time soon.” 

Gale looks over his shoulder at the window. “Well, it’s no walk in the park–” Tav rolls her eyes, “–but I suppose we could find our own entertainment…” 

“Oh?” Tav says, raising a brow. Gale turns back to face her, a presumptuous smile spread across his face. She narrows her gaze at him. “And what exactly did you have in mind?” 

Gale had a lot in mind, as a matter of fact. 

It had started innocent and playful – Gale rising from his chair, caging Tav against the desk and lifting her to sit on the surface. Pushing aside the stacks of parchment and books, rubbing his hands along her bare thighs, selfish in his need to touch her. He’d tucked a finger under her chin and kissed her with such excruciating sweetness it had made her heart swim. More kisses had followed, peppered along her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her forehead, her eyes. He’d continued on until she couldn’t stop laughing at the sensation, and had only stopped when she’d pushed him away for a moment to catch her breath; and at the sight of her flushed skin, the length of Tav’s neck exposed when she’d thrown her head back in laughter, he shifted. 

The tenderness in Gale’s warm brown eyes was now pure, unwavering desire. 

“What, Gale?” Tav asked a bit breathlessly. 

He answered with a claiming kiss, taking her by such surprise that she’d let out a small moan, which only pushed him further over the edge. 

And then, Gale had hoisted Tav up off the desk and she’d wrapped her legs tight around his middle as he carried her out of the study and up the stairs. The feeling of Gale’s hands splayed across her backside and rear had Tav’s heartbeat quickening. When she’d felt the bulge in his pants against her body, she’d leaned down to kiss along the column of his throat. 

There was no time to make it to the bedroom after that. 

With a wave of his hand, a soft bed of cushions and blankets materializes on the floor next to the hearth and before Tav can say a word she’s plopped right in the center. They barely break apart from the other as they undo the fastenings of their clothes. There were nights when they – usually Gale – took the time to tease and undress at a snail’s pace, nearly getting his pleasure from watching Tav squirm and whine and beg for it. 

This was no such night. 

The minute Tav’s breasts are exposed Gale’s tongue is there, dragging along her goosebump-ridden skin. She’s desperate to touch him anywhere, but as soon as she lifts a hand Gale takes it in his own before she can make contact. 

“Lie down,” he says, barely able to remove his lips from her chest to utter the words. 

“I want to–” 

“Lie, down,” Gale says again, his eyes pleading. She knows that look, and she is not about to deny him what he wants – what he’s so close to begging for. 

Tav lowers herself onto her back and shoves off her unlaced shorts with Gale’s help, eyes fluttering closed as he moves his attention back to her breasts, lips closed around one nipple while caressing the other with his ink-stained thumb. Only once he’s satisfied does he start pressing a trail of kisses along the underside of her breasts, down her stomach and all the way to the planes of her hips. His hands grip hard at her sides as he lowers himself even further, teasing Tav with his breath along her awaiting folds, knowing that with each second that passed, he would no longer be the one to beg. 

Gale feasts, savoring every moan that Tav lets out at the movements of his tongue. He keeps his grip firm on her hips, but rubs careful, soothing circles with his thumbs along the bare skin there. After some time, Gale slides his hands to the backs of Tav’s thighs, spreading her even further for their mutual enjoyment. Tav takes a breath low in her belly and feels her climax building. 

“Gale,” she breathes. 

“Hmm?” Gale’s hummed reply reverberates through her, drawing yet another glorious moan from Tav. 

“Fuck me,” Tav says. It’s meant as a command, but her voice is thick with desperation and Gale knows it. She swallows hard as Gale’s fingers press harder into her soft flesh, driving his tongue and nose deeper into her. “Please,” she whines, “I need you to fuck me.” 

And that’s all it takes. 

Gale frees his erection from his trousers, not bothering to take them off completely before nudging the tip of his length against her heat. 

“Oh gods–”

“I’d prefer if you cried out to me, Tav,” Gale grunts as he sinks into her, “not the gods.” 

It’s heaven to be joined with her like this. Gale’s loving gaze beams down at Tav as he eases in and out of her, brushing her hair from her eyes and neck as she writhes beneath him. She’s beautiful always, but like this – with her cheeks red and skin sticky with sweat – she’s something else entirely. 

“Harder,” Tav whispers, pressing a hand flat against Gale’s bare, warm chest as she looks up into his eyes. Gale immediately folds his own free hand over top of hers, grounding himself as he drives further and further into her, acquiescing to her words.

The duet of their rasping breaths is his favorite composition, underscored by the crackling in the hearth and the rain beating hard against the windows. Their breathing becomes frantic and needy as they inch closer and closer to their mutual release. As Tav digs her nails into Gale’s chest, tugging at the patch of hair there, his tenderness once again gives way to pure, starving lust. 

Gale slowed his pace, much to his own chagrin; but he’d wanted to watch – wanted her to watch him – as he claimed her. So, even through the crying out of every bone and muscle in his body, he pulled his cock from her. 

“Do not move,” he says between breaths. Though she’d whimpered at the loss of him, the fervor in his voice gave her no choice but to stay put. In this state, she was likely to bend to any command – and gods, did he know it. Tav lies there, naked and warm by the fire, squeezing her thighs tight together for any sort of friction as she waits for Gale’s return. 

There’s a thump in the corner, and then his footsteps draw closer. “Come here, my darling,” Gale says when he reaches her, taking Tav’s hands within his and helping her into an upright position. The threatening wave of an orgasm pulses within her, skin on fire where Gale’s fingers now brush curled wisps of hair from her sweaty brow. “Now,” he breathes, “I want you down on your knees, in front of me, watching,” Gale tells her, nodding his head towards the large, ornate mirror now propped against the wall. “Can you do that for me?” Tav barely manages a single nod before Gale leans in towards her and steals a hungry, wanting kiss, one hand cupping the back of her neck as the other rubs small circles to the inside of her wrist. 

When they break apart, Gale’s steady hands guide Tav up and onto her knees. She takes up her position, palms and knees to the floor; she watches him in the reflection as he finally removes his trousers, lowering his fully naked body to his knees and slowly sliding his hands around the curve of her hips. Her eyes flutter with pleasure as he presses a lingering kiss to the base of her spine, but the sensation drives her to further madness when he whispers against her skin, “Lower.” 

Without so much as a sound, Tav lowers herself from palms to elbows, arms stretched out in front of her. She watches in the mirror as Gale presses a line of kisses to her rear, fingers digging into her flushed, soft skin as he makes his way lower and lower. She gasps when his tongue and lips find their way once again to her cunt, throbbing and wet. One hand rises beneath her, and his middle and ring fingers begin working away at her clit, bringing her closer and closer and– 

He hums against her as her muscles tighten with pleasure. As the twitching of her hips threatens to break their contact, Gale presses further into her, his free hand pulling her closer. 

“Gale–” She chokes out, knuckles going white as she grasps the blanket beneath her for stability. “Gale, I need you inside of me– please–” 

Another hum of his own pleasure sounds as Gale sits back on his knees, meeting Tav’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He maintains their eye contact as he moves closer to her, using a knee to spread her legs wider. Gale still doesn’t break their gaze as he guides the length of his cock to her entrance, sheathing himself back into her with one long, languid stroke. Tav revels in the sensation, closing her eyes as her body threatens to sink further into the floor. 

“Ah ah,” Gale chides, pulling out of Tav. She’d begged too much, and now he’d wield her desire to draw out their pleasure as long as possible. “What did I say, hm?” In one swift movement, Gale threads his fingers through her loosened hair, twisting and wrapping his fist in her curly strands. His grip is gentle, but firm; loving, but full of command. He tugs, lifting Tav’s head to once again meet his eyes in the mirror. Tav takes in deep, ragged breaths, the muscles in her legs beginning to shake. “Use your words, my darling.” 

Tav swallows hard. “You – you want me to watch,” she says between breaths. 

The hint of a smile flashes across his face. His grip tightens on her hair. “Close your eyes or look away again, and I’ll stop.” Tav whines again but nods, and Gale’s eyes darken. “Now – are you ready for me?” 

Gods, she could melt under the heat of his gaze. Tav nods again, biting down hard on her lower lip as Gale lines the head of his cock back up and pushes into her again. A low moan escapes him and it causes every single one of Tav’s muscles to tighten again – tighten around him – and it drives them both mad. 

Gale’s thrusts are calculated and tortuously slow at first. With his free hand he grabs at the soft flesh of Tav’s hip to bring them closer. She doesn’t dare close her eyes again, taking in every one of Gale’s gasps and moans, each sharp breath. Tav’s head eddies out as she watches sweat begin to bead along his temples, glistening in the light of the hearth. She’s drunk at the very sight of him, and wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As his own pleasure builds up again, his pace becomes more eager. He’d not yet brought her to orgasm – as Tav was brutally aware – but he’s determined to take Tav with him over the edge. He releases her hip and moves his fingers down to her clit, working in small circles, drawing another deep moan from Tav. 

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Gale says, looking like he might devour her right here. “Do you like when I touch you like this?” Tav nods, feeling her eyes flutter at the influx of sensations coursing through her. “Eyes open,” he says with another hard tug to her hair. “Do you like–” 

“Yes,” Tav cries, “yes, fuck, I do!” The familiar coiling within Tav’s body begins to tighten again. 

Gale leans forward, releasing her hair to brace himself at her side. “And do you like watching me fuck you like this?” His breath is hot along the shell of her ear. 

Tav nods. A meager, “Mmhmm,” is all she can manage. 

“I want you to finish with me,” Gale whispers. “I know you can, and you will.” 

“I–” Tav shakes her head. “I can’t,” she gasps.

“Yes you can, my darling,” Gale breathes, lifting his hand from the floor and pressing it at the center of Tav’s torso, bringing her arched back against his chest and exposing her naked body to their reflections. The angle makes the sensation of his cock and his fingers too good, the crest of her orgasm nearly within reach. Gale’s tongue works its way along the side of her neck and when his teeth catch on her earlobe, she nearly finishes right then. “Tav,” Gale warns. “Eyes open–” 

Gale mutters something along Tav’s sweat-slick skin, and in a moment he removes his fingers from Tav’s sensitive bud. She cries out at the loss, but is immediately quieted when another hand replaces it, shimmering an icy blue and nearly translucent in the firelight. Gale’s steading hands help lower Tav back to her elbows. 

“Fuck–” Gale hisses. Though Tav’s gaze stays plastered to Gale’s face, his focus is to where their bodies are joined, his fingers pressing firmly into her backside, kneading and stretching and roving as he grinds into her. “Tav– are you–” Gale throws his head back with a gasp. “I’m about to–”  

“Please,” Tav begs. “Gale, please–” 

“Say my name like that again,” Gale commands, thrusting harder and harder. 

The conjured hand at Tav’s clit is unforgiving in its pursuits to bring her to her climax, forcing her to stammer over her words. “G-Gale–” 

“Oh, fuck yes,” he growls, bracing himself with one hand tight on her waist and the other gripping her shoulder. “Again.” 

“Gale, I can’t,” she pants, her release seconds from exploding through her. “I can’t–” 

It’s like clockwork, then; as Tav’s body gives in to the pleasure, her muscles constrict around Gale’s length and he can’t help but spill into her. Tav finishes with a yelp, and Gale with some kind of choked gasp. The corners of his vision begin to speckle as his release rolls throughout his body, holding tight to Tav as the thunderstorm howls outside. 

The conjured hand is dismissed and Gale slowly withdraws himself from Tav, but is quick to kiss along her spine, once again roaming his greedy hands over her body and rolling her onto her side. He snaps his fingers and they’re clean in an instant. 

“Come here,” Gale whispers, voice raw. He pulls Tav close to his chest with one arm as the other reaches for a blanket to cover them. Tav concedes, allowing him to move and adjust her in any way to be comfortable. He strokes Tav’s hair for a few minutes as their hearts calm, savoring these moments of intimacy as much as the impassioned ones. 

And though Tav’s asleep in minutes, he still leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” Gale whispers, tenderness returned. Sleep finds him soon after, lulled by the rain and the warmth of his love in his arms.

taglist!

@dr-demi-bee @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @lanafofana

@marlowethebard @crimson-and-lavender @spooky-lil-bee

@12thhouse-sun @waterdeep-weavemoss @amorgansgal

@honeybee-bard (i figured since i tagged you in the two snippets, i should tag you when i posted the full fic lol)

[a-rabid-snake]

Is this going to be my opinion and probably whining? I don't know

I fucking love Artisaint, these guys both didn't get a better life. Their life is just terrible, yes, they can partially suppress each other's views and actions, but that's the point, they are so different, but at the same time similar. Arti, under a fit of anger, began to take revenge on scavenger. Saint was already, in my opinion, consciously, just getting rid of false gods. But dude, whatever it is, they're just prisoners of their destinies. The Artificer can no longer rise. Saint is forever attached to his sealey. These guys are terribly hopeless

They are both broken, but they remain as they are, no matter what, they try for each other's sake, even if they try to hide it

I love Artisaint, and I want to see them a little more often, just to please my already broken soul. But I'm too afraid to bother people, lol lmfao (Okay, to be honest, I don't quite understand these abbreviations, I'm sorry)

Dude, I'm a dumb idiot who broke my life, I'm still living this fucking past. I am looking for solace in rw shipping, seriously, for some reason it makes me feel much calmer seeing how calm my beloved ship is. I admit I'm not normal, but I don't really know what to do about it

I can't fix myself, no matter how hard I try, I feel like an unevenly glued vase, which is checked for strength every time just by throwing it on the floor with all my might

Okay, I'm starting to just complain, I just want artisaint, for me, they're almost like candy or a sedative, idk

(I'm not forcing anyone, dudes, just ignore me)

[augustinapril]

Heyyy Spence

So I saw that you wanted some batfam requests (especially platonic ones) so I was wondering if I could ask for a batfam (you pick whatever characters you want to be added) x bat!sibling reader who’s getting a special award but doesn’t tell anyone about it? Not bc they don’t think the family will care, they just think that the rest of them are busy and don’t want to bother them. They somehow find out though and are all there so surprise the reader?

If not- that’s totally fine too!!

Take care <333

Spider || Batfam

Paring: Batfam & gn!reader

Sypnosis: You're Brooklyns resident Spider, or The Insect, as Heaven likes to call you. It's a job you've taken with honor, and you're being thanked for it by the city. What you didn't expect was to see your family in the crowd.

Warnings: kind of a spiderman x dc crossover? r is basically the spiderman of DC, talks of heights, violence and terribly written fight scenes, reader is threatened by a villian, swearing, mentions of food, its poorly written I'm sorry!!

wc: 3.2k || nav || m.list

a/n: shout out to @lu-vin-it for being a character in this fic! he also happens to write so you should definitely go check out their stuff (that's a threat not a request). thank you @lemkay-luminary for proofreading!! <3 reblogs > likes!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

Gotham City was constantly buzzing with life, along with death. It was a violent city, full of murderers, thieves, robbers, and villians drowning in a thirst for blood. More times than you could count, the city has stolen the life of people you've cared for. 

It held too many bad memories for you to stay. You loved the city, and it would always be your home, but you had a new home in Brooklyn, too.

Brooklyn gave you a breath of fresh air, here you could see the sun most days. It was calming, the warmth of it a comfort. You love it here and the people here love you in return.

"Spider!" A little girl from down below shouted, strawberry ice cream smeared across her face as she pointed up at you. "It's Spider!"

Her father gave her a light lecture on how it was rude to point when you attached yourself to the side of a building, offering the little girl a wave. She waved back, squealing in excitement at the fact that the Spider was waving at her. 

"Y/n, you know those guys we've been tracking for God knows how long?" Heaven's voice spoke through the comms, startling you.

"I don't, actually, I think they've managed to slip my mind." You retorted sarcastically as you jumped off and swung your way to a nearby rooftop.

"You were bitten by an insect, I can treat you like an insect." 

"Spiders aren't insects, they're—"

There was an annoyed huff that cut you off, it made you snicker. "Fuck you. I should make you do all this by yourself, but I don't. Be grateful. Anyways, so I've gotten a location on them, Visage is most definitely there."

"Where?" You asked quickly. Visage has been tormenting the city for a while now.

"Near Plymouth Church. They've been spotted in some run down building near it." 

"Thank you." You responded and the comms cut out.

That's when you jumped, arms behind you, the breeze pushed against your suit. It was exhilarating to fly through the air, being so high above everything else. 

Helping people in the way you do, swinging through the city and hearing people like that little girl call out to you was worth every risk the job came with. You'd put yourself on the line every time because you're here to protect them. 

Which brought you here, on top of some building across from an abandoned grocery store. Your eyes were glued to the doors, as you watched and waited for something to happen.

A man walked out, wearing protective green gear. It was Visage, you knew it was. There was no mistaking him and his rather ugly suit. 

"Visage, my man, what's up?" You jumped over to the power line nearby, standing on top of the wooden pole. His head snapped up to you, and the second it did, you webbed him. Jumping up you yanked him up with you. You grabbed ahold of his head and slammed it onto the pole. There was a crack in his helmet, him falling to the ground and letting out a pained groan.

"Fuck," You heard him hiss under his breath, struggling to pull himself off the ground. You didn't give him much of a chance before you leapt down in front of him, landing before swiping him off his feet.

"I'm gonna kill you," He raised his gauntleted hand and he fired at you from his spot on the ground.

It was one of his weird creations, Vistech as he liked to call it. It made you realize that villians are extremely uncreative when it comes to naming things.

"'I'm gonna kill you' blah blah blah, I've heard it all before. Your words mean nothing." You retorted, moving out of the way of whatever it was he shot at you. He had a nasty habit of creating new concoctions and testing them on you.

You were sure you probably seemed cocky, and the way he tensed made it evident he wasn't very appreciative of your attitude. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

After that he charged at you, gear adding power to his steps. Your senses spiked, making you leap out of his way. His gauntlet grabbed hold of your arm, as he throwed you towards a nearby wall. 

The impact knocked the wind out of your lungs, falling to the ground with a wheeze. You could hear his heavy boots hit the ground with each step he took towards you. You pushed yourself off the ground, then you lifted your hand and shot webbing at his face. His cries were muffled by the substance, his hand scratched to try and get the webs off. 

You fully pushed yourself off of the ground, wincing in pain. Much to your dismay, the second you were on your feet Visage had pulled off the webs. He ran towards you again and you were lucky to move out of the way on time.

You put your hand behind his head and slammed it full force into the wall, knocking him unconscious. You crouched down, inspecting Visage's guantlet, lifting the heavy metal. It was warm to the touch, most likely because of the weird substance in them.

You looked them over, searching for a way to remove them . It was more sophisticated than you originally thought, but you found it eventually. 

You knew Visage wasn't the highest of rank in whatever business he worked for, but he was high enough on there for you to get some information on the entire organization. 

You tied him up with your webbing, and when you heard police sirens you leapt up to the rooftop of the nearest building, Visage's guantlet in hand.

***

The fight had been all over the news.

Some people praised you for your efforts whilst others said you were nothing but a menace, but the mayor, much to your surprise, was extremely pleased with your work.

She made an announcement on television about wanting to thank you personally for everything you've done for Brooklyn.

Which led you here, stood near the entrance of the building the mayor did most of her work in. She looked elegant, black pencil skirt hugging her legs and waist, a matching jacket on top of a white dress shirt. She was so put together it made you nervous.

You didn't look put together. Not that you really could in your spidersuit but you still felt self-conscious. 

Yet she offered you a warm smile, holding her hand out towards you. "Spider! It's nice to meet you in person."

You smiled back, though she couldn't see it from underneath your mask. "It's nice to meet you too, Madame Mayor." Her hand was warm against the fabric of your suit.

"So you and I will just walk out that door," She began, pointing over towards the door. "And I'll greet the crowd, give a speech, and then I'll shake your hand once more. I'll warn you now, there will be a lot of people."

It was strange how you could fight dangerous people and yet the mention of a crowd made your heart rate pick up. 

You nodded, and she smiled again. Her heels clicked loudly against the white flooring of the office building, your steps quieter than hers. You made sure to wear your converse here. There had been many times you forgot to slip on your shoes before heading out of your bedroom window, your mind racing to find reported criminals.

The doors opened, sunlight shined through as you exited the brick building. There was an abundance of people in the crowd, the snapping of pictures and shouts of Spider filled the atmosphere. There were news reporters that surrounded the barricades of the stairs, keeping the rambunctious crowd from getting too close.

"Hello people of Brooklyn!" The Mayor waved, sun reflecting off of her white painted nails. The way she handled the crowd made you envious and it took everything in you not to teeter on your feet to calm the nerves. 

The crowd gave a series of shouts and greetings in reply, making the mayor laugh. She was good at this, but you suppose she had to be. That's when she introduced you, another wave of excited noise spilled from the ocean of people across from you.

"Hello." You replied as you waved and cringed at how awkward you probably sounded. Another group of greetings sounded around you.

People could be loud when they wanted to be, and that amplified in groups. You eyed them, and noticed the little girl from a few days ago again. She rested on top of her father's shoulders—her face was ice-creamless now—and her abundance of red waves was put into braids with ribbons tied at the end.

She made you smile from under your mask, as the beginning of the mayor's speech slipped past your ears. You moved your gaze from her, your eyes looked over the people and that's when you saw them. Your family in the very back.

Dick looked silly. The entirety of his outfit was just Spider merchandise and you were sure he seemed like an obnoxious fan to the rest of the crowd. Jason stood away from him, probably upset that he had to stand so close to Dick when he looked like that. He blended in more with the crowd, he wore simple attire that any normal person would wear in public. Not that he was normal, he just didn't like to stand out in such a way. 

Your father wore a suit. A very pristine suit, as usual, no one except reporters ever wore something so proper to an event like this. 

Steph had the biggest smile ever on her face, hair pulled back by a purple headband, dressed simply in a long skirt and a purple cardigan to cover it. Tim stood next to her, adorned in a sweater Bernard had given him and a pair of shorts. The both of them were on the opposite side of the crowd. Cass was not too far away. 

She had never enjoyed crowds, or people in general. You wouldn't have noticed her if not for your enhanced senses. She leaned against Bruce's car, the entirety of her black attire blended in with the car's paint. Damian was beside her, arms crossed. The warm weather had him in a simple pair of brown cargo shirts, his green t-shirt blended nicely with them.

Damian probably didn't want to come. Not that he didn't love you or anything, no he often talked about how you were the most tolerable out of the rest of his family, he just never saw the point in coming to something he could very easily watch on TV. You were going to make sure to thank him later.

You returned your attention back to the mayor. As she was nearing the end of her speech she turned to you. "—And I'd like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today. The Spider has done so much for our city this last year, and it seemed rude to not provide our hero a proper thank you."

Her hand reached toward you once again, but before she could grasp your hand an intense feeling of danger hit you. Your head snapped up, turning over and noticing a man—one of Visage's men it seemed from the apparel he wore—directing one of the  special guns directly at the mayor. You shielded her quickly, pulling her away just as he pulled the trigger. 

The crowd screamed at the sound, erupting in panic. You should've known this would have happened. Nothing is ever so easy.

 "Are you okay?" You asked the mayor, and she nodded, mumbling a thank you. You once her over just to make sure before jumping back into the crowd. It was almost as if the man multiplied in your short time of making sure the mayor was okay. 

"Can't you guys take days off or something?" You asked, annoyed when you webbed one of the weapons, yanking it out of his hands and sticking it up against the wall of a building. "Seriously, you guys are everywhere. I think you might need to bring this up with your boss."

One of them charged at you, which you swiftly moved out of the way but kept your foot in place, snickering when she tripped on the ground. 

You jumped, legs pushing you high enough to land on the top of a street lamp. You'd yanked one of the men up with you, slamming his head into the light before webbing him to it, leaving him dangling when you jumped down. 

"Do you ever shut up?" A woman shouted, irritated with you. She lunged at you, but hit the wall—hard enough as to where you could hear a loud groan.

"Only if you say please."

There was only one person left, he radiated irritation. It was easy to piss these people off. If it were a sport you'd have 1st place medals galore.

"And then there were two." You joked, watching as he pulled out a similar weapon to the first guys.

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

You scoffed, preparing yourself to attack him before you answered. "Do you people have no manners?"

It was a swift motion, webbing the weapon so he couldn't fire. He tried to rip off the webs before you got him in the face. His sounds of confusion were muffled, and you took this time to kick the legs out from under him, sticking his hand together 

Within minutes, you'd gotten all of them tied up. It was a swift battle—if you could even consider it one—and now you made your way back to the Mayor.

With a quick once over, you knew she was okay. Shaken up, but overall physically okay. You still asked to be sure. "Are you okay?"

She looked at you, offering a smile. "Yes, I'm okay thanks to you. Thank you again, Spider. For everything. I don't know where Brooklyn would be without you."

You couldn’t think of a response. Talking to people was hard, but talking to the Mayor was harder. Especially when she said something like that. “It’s no problem.” You said, though you questioned if it sounded awkward.

After assisting to make sure everyone was okay. You felt a small tug at the stretchy fabric of your suit. Your head drifting in the direction of the source, your heart warmed. It was the little girl from before. “Spider!”

You grinned underneath your mask, crouching down to see eye-to-eye with her, taking notice of the adorable crochet beanie in her head. “Hello. I really like your hat!”

She giggled, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen crossing her features. “It has you on it!”

"It does! Did someone make it for you?"

Her waves bounced around her head when she nodded, grabbing ahold of her father's hand and shaking it around. "My daddy made it for me! Isn't that right, daddy?"

He gave a proud grin, though it wasn't as bright as it would be if he didn't look so exhausted. "Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. I did make it."

"You should convince him to make me one," You joked, looking up at her father. "It's an awesome hat. I'm honored to have such a hat with me on it."

"She wouldn't stop pestering me until I finished," He replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "She asked me everyday if her hat was done. She loves you."

You warmed and looked back at the child. "And her love will always be appreciated."

After a rather hard goodbye, he led her back towards their small car. It took a few hours, but eventually you were able to make your way back home for a quick meal. You had some spare time before you decided you were going to force yourself back out into the city, hoping to finally give yourself a chance to relax.

Though it seemed your plans had been foiled, the smell of Mac & Cheese filled your apartment, and the slight chatter of familiar voices bouncing off of the fake wooden walls.

"Alfred?" Your eyebrows rose when you saw the man that was basically your second father standing in front of your stove, a pot in front of him as he stirred a wooden spoon through the creamy noodles. "You're making Mac & Cheese?"

Alfred never enjoyed making Mac & Cheese like this, far more into homemade foods rather than the cheap store-bought boxes. He enjoyed putting care into his cooking, and boxed Mac & Cheese took that away. In his eyes, at least.

You set your stuff down, listening to Alfreds words even though he didn't look at you. "I would have made something else, but it seems this was all you had in your cupboard, L/n."

"Fair." You shrugged before you heard someone clearing his throat.

"No hello to your father?"

You looked at him and smiled. "Hello Father."

Jason snickered, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You sound like Damian." His feet on your table made you send him a light glare.

"Better him than you, Jay. And get your nasty ass feet off my table." You shoved his feet off of the fake wood, as you ignored the glare he sent you when you walked by, and ruffled Damian's hair. "How's the favorite brother?"

He huffed in annoyance and shoved your hand away, an incoherent grumble being your only response.

"Y/n!" Steph interrupted, a blur of purple passing your vision as he gave you a swift hug, arms wrapping tightly around you. "We missed you!"

"I missed you guys too." You grinned, brushing a few strands of blonde hair that fell out of her headband behind her ear after she pulled away. "Where's Cass and Dick?"

As if on queue, Dick walked through the door, his hand in the air as he answered. "We're here!" He had a flare for the dramatics, his high-school yearbooks and his years of theater could prove it. 

Cass' entrance was far more tame, as she carefully walked through as to not drop the big yellow box in her hands,closing the door with her foot. "We brought cake."

"Cake?" You weren't expecting cake, and especially not store bought cake. Alfred would be quivering in his boots if he didn't have to hide his irritation. 

"You didn't tell us about the Mayor." Damian interrupted, his arms crossed. Irritation was written all over his face—which seemed to mask his slight pain about the topic—and you were hit with a sudden pang of guilt.

"Sorry, Dami." You began, as you gave an apologetic smile. You looked at all of them, trying to explain yourself. "You guys are all so busy, I didn't wanna pull you away from your work."

The explanation seemed silly now that you said it out loud. It was a stupid reason, your family cared about you a lot and it probably seemed like a kick in the face. You continued, words spilling out of your mouth in an anxiety consumed guilt.

"It's not that I thought you guys wouldn't care or anything I just— I don't know, I didn't wanna pull you guys away from something more important."

"No work could ever come above you," Bruce spoke quickly, taking your hand within his. He squeezed it, as if it were to make his words stronger with meaning.

And in a way it did, it reminded you that your family may be busy, but you all would always put each other first.

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

sorry this was all over the place!! constructive criticism is always welcome!! please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it!!

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 04

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: none for this chapter :))

Words: 3632

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story, I take the support I receive close to my heart. The next two weeks I'll be away so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, I'm sorry if it causes any inconvenience for anyone. I'm worried that the chapters will lower in quality if I rush so I'll be taking my time with it. Please take care of yourself, xoxo

Previous:

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„We will figure something out then, okay?” Answered Namjoon after a short pause. Nodding lightly, you once again rested your cheek on his chest, just letting him hold you for now.

The other men had a much harder time containing their excitement thought. While the pack alpha acted chill and laid back, they didn't bother covering up anything. Their whispering wasn't making it easy for you to pick up on their words, but you could smell the happiness, so you could guess.

You felt happy too, in a way. You had no idea what was awaiting in the future, but you wanted to explore and develop along side with them. You still had a long way to go. You have never been properly courted before, the only pack you were ever part of was your family pack, which you weren't in for over two years now.

It wasn't something you were proud of. It was always frowned upon for omegas to not have a stable pack. Usually, people mated only within the pack that they were apart of. Once they found someone they were potentionally interested in, the lower second gender individual entered their courting mate pack.

Sometimes, when a bigger mate group started forming and an alpha well enough to support and lead the pack appeared, the whole group of mates broke off their earlier pack and formed a new one.

Therefore, an omega without a fully stable pack was considered not loyal, a big deal to more traditionally thinking people. Over the time you taught yourself to not talk about your pack, always cleverly avoiding the topic.

Others often noticed you being unscented, so you would from time to time try to buy artificial scent. It could be in different forms, but mostly, it was a small piece of fabric that was scented profusely. The scents weren't from a real person, it was a fake mixture of different spices, flower smells, and even things like drinks, foods, or parts of nature. This mixture was carefully measured and listed on the label with a small letter in a circle next to it. That stood for the different second genders the scent was meant to remind you of.

These small fabric scraps could be inexpensive but very highly priced too, it all came down to the quality you were receiving. If you choose to splurge for once, the small rug would serve you for longer. The clothes you would rub it on, neck or your hair would truly smell longer too. Usually, that still lasted for only about 4 days at most, the lower quality artificial scent completely gone within the 2 days.

You weren't ready to spend over 120 000₩ on a flimsy plastic bag with a 10x10cm square of slightly itchy fabric inside, that smelled so unnatural, it pretty much stank. You did have to purchase one from time to time, but only if the situation really requested it. You just really didn't have the spare cash for that, usually being left hungry for the few following days until your weekly set budget went up again.

Plus, they made you feel quite terrible about yourself. That didn't matter if you were about to travel to a different city, or just take the public bus, or have a longer school trip. It was more than normal for a pack to scent you if you were going to undertake such a thing. All of your classmates were well scented, so you followed along, attempting to fit in.

Being pulled from your thoughts by the pack alpha once again, he softly patted your hair looking at your face.

„Do you want to go to the mall with us now? We can eat lunch there, how about that? After that we can drive you back to your apartment.” Slowly pulling away from the warmth he brought, you sat up and nodded. Not really sure what going to the mall would mean you just didn't want to upset them by rejecting any of their ideas.

„Hobi, Koo and Yoongi are at the studio now, they are finishing up some stuff, maybe they will join us later okay?” Listening to Jimin closely you did faintly remember the three alpha's leaving the house sometime in the morning after you ate. They did tell you soft goodbyes back then, but didn't prolong the exit too much. Since you were mostly focused on the movie at that time, they didn't want you to become upset from their sudden absence.

Standing up with them, you all started getting ready. You didn't have much on you at the moment, only coming to the packhouse with a wallet and keys, so you just went on to pull on your jacket, scarf and boots.

Tying the gray knit around your neck, you watched how the other man got ready, grabbing long coats, puffer jackets and warm hats. Bending to tie your shoelaces, you were too slow, warm hands already finishing up the bow knot. Startled, you gripped your fingers lightly squeezing each one in a pattern.

Standing up after kneeling down Taehyung stood taller than you, the high heel boots he wore only adding to his height. Zipping up your jacket all the way up to your chin, he smiled with how your cheeks poked out, appearing bigger.

Squeezing them he cooed loudly, making your face turn just a bit pinker. Huffing, you lightly slapped his hands off, whining. Suddenly, Tae was in your bad books, how could he make fun of you like that?

Whining louder at his chuckle, you rushed towards Jin who was holding the door open for you all. With the two alpha's already gone you also walked outside, the cold air hitting you just as it did yesterday. Snowflakes weren't falling at the moment, but according to the forecast you watched on Saturday, it will start snowing again eventually.

Walking towards the already started car, you followed the footprints stepped before you. The vehicle was a Kia, black and quite large, pretty much a mini van. The snow crunched under your feet as you walked towards the door, pulling at the handle. Tugging the heavy thing open, you slowly climbed in, looking at the layout before deciding where to sit.

The seats were made out of light tan coloured leather, and felt bit cooling to the first touch. Gripping onto the handle, you were going to sit behind the driver seat, only to be pulled back by your hand. Softly landing in the middle seat, you looked at Jimin who was sitting by the wheel.

„Sit here princess. We can see you better this way, do you understand? It's for safety, come on, buckle up now.” The said alpha said calmly, turning in his seat to pat your knee lightly.

Growing only more annoyed by this, you just wanted to sit next to the window, was that big of a deal? Still, you just whined and did what the alpha asked for.

„Good girl.”

Looking up, you met eyes with Namjoon, and after a second of the sudden stare contest, you looked down at the seatbelt you started to pull at, ignoring the soft flutter you felt in your stomach.

Sliding into the seat next to you, Jin closed the doors after himself with a loud bang, followed shortly by Tae climbing in and doing the same. Sandwiched between the alphas, you shrunk into yourself, feeling small.

„Awhh, are you still mad at me?” smiling at you, you turned to face away from the man, choosing to instead watch out of the window as Jimin started backing out of the drive way slowly.

„Is everyone buckled up? Do you have everything?” asked Namjoon from the front seat, turning to look at all of us. Reaching his hand to pull at the belt around your shoulder, deeming it secure enough when it didn't move.

Nodding you answered just as everyone else did, so the car got on its way. The neighborhood the pack lived in was a luxurious one, not shocking you too much. You knew about their music, nowdays it was basically impossible to not know. But still you never payed enough attention to be aware of any details what's so ever. You didn't really know their names before hand, only hearing few songs in the radio or seeing them on billboards. You never really took a great interest in K-pop, only a small bit. Western music was more your style.

You always wished to travel to a western country, like the USA. You loved snow, so something like Alaska was always a part of your dreams, sadly, never achievable. You studied a major that made your future well above uncertain and risky, but still you hoped to make it one day.

The competitions you signed up for were not always too successful for you, but you loved the process of creating anyways, so you eventually always came back to them, even if you were disappointed with your results last time.

Your work ranged across many mediums, going from painting on big canvases to drawing, sculptures, or printing techniques you explored in some of your lessons. You loved all of it, often showing some of your projects to people who offered to listen in, even if there weren't too many. You didn't have a lot of friends, practically none.

The classmates you shared were often time bit too rough for you, and you still had hard time adjusting to living on your own, so going out to meet with new people was absolute no for you. You somehow always wished for it though, no matter how introverted you were.

And so with a soft music playing in the background from the radio, you felt at peace for once.

Finally, you had someone who was willing to help you, to hold you in your hardest and cherish you at your worsts. There was a coldness at the bottom of your heart, reminding you that any of the short term relationships you worked hard to form with some of your class were never truly real. They never included any of what you had with the packmates, confusing you further. Were they never actually real?

Still, you had a few you trusted, occasionally coming by to talk to them, even if they never came to you by themselves.

Streets passed by, the road was calm even if it was snowy and icy. Jimin was driving slowly, making sure to slow down before any curves to avoid any possible danger.

„Hyung, we have to take her to the Cheongdam-dong, let's go to the mall after.” Said the youngest from next to you. While you weren't that well set regarding your money, only getting payed small amount from your family as a compensation, you knew the Cheongdam-dong street. Filled with stores like Prada, Burberry, Chanel, MIU MIU, or Gucci, it was absolutely not what you were expecting to go down.

 You thought the men would take you to the mall, mingle around in new sections of the stores, you would maybe buy a lunch later and then be on your way. This seemed different though. Why would you even go there, you could never ever afford anything from such luxury brands.

Since your school hours usually started at around 8 and ended after 17, you didn't have much time or energy to do a lot after that. You could take on a part time job, and you emailed a lot of places, but after they realised you were an omega and with no pack alpha they usually stopped communicating. There was a lot of papers that needed to be signed by the pack to get the omega to work, even as a part time job at a local café. 

„Cheongdam-dong street? Why?” The discomfort in your voice was well above obvious as you looked at the man besides you. He way excitedly looking at Namjoon, smiling with his teeth showing. He was wearing a long coat and a cashmere blue and red scarf around his neck, left loose to dangle on his torso, looking chic and elegant. An outfit nice enough to go shopping in such brands, yours on the other hand was far from it. 

You did freshen up before leaving today, but you still wore the same clothes as you did yesterday and you weren't sure if the wrinkles would be appreciated. You could bet you would get kicked out before you would even try to enter.

Instead of turning to Tae, the highest ranking alpha turned to you. Watching you with soft gaze, he let his gaze linger for a minute before speaking. Namjoon was already set on starting courting you, and he wasn't about to back down. Especially since he knew that you were interested yourself, and his pack wanted just the same. 

„It's okay pup. We can just look around how 'bout that? Don't get worked up baby, let's just enjoy our day yea?” with his dimples showing, you allowed him to carres your cheek, leaning into his touch slightly. 

„I'm sure you will love it cub, the new winter collection from Dior has some really pretty jackets. Maybe you will find one you like.” Looking up at Jin he too only returned it, his eyes soft and warm. Nervously looking around, you weren't too sure about this. 

„Gucci has a new one too, did you see some photos? What did you like the most? I'll take you there so you can see, okay babycheeks?” Tae said, pulling out his phone before showing you a photos taken from a runway show. 

They were from his Camera folder, meaning that he himself visited such event, shocking you for a second. The intimidating looking women and men wore oversized suits with sunglasses, colourful patterns coats paired with just as bright pants, barretts, fur coats that dragged after them and maxi dresses. 

Leaning closer to the alpha, you watched the many photos he must have taken. When you were younger, you did look at fashion magazines, watching the makeup looks they wore confidently and the new silhouettes the current trends offered. Your mother always took you away sooner or later; whenever you asked to buy such magazines, they were always too expensive, was the reply.

Your grandmother did have sewing patterns and books on different techniques and guides for such things. In those old booklets, there was an occasional drawing of the clothing article, modelled by a girl. You always settled for those, flipping through the pages quietly.

After you got older, the fashion world just got a bit too much for you to keep up with, so instead you chose to buy what you found comfortable and interesting at the moment.

Only meekly nodding, you sat back comfortably, just as Jimin started to park the car. Stopping at a bit of a busy street, the alphas didn't step out immediately; instead, they pulled on different hats and sunglasses, pulling up face masks over their noses.

Before you knew it, a hand underneath your chin turned your face to the eldest. Pulling a soft pink face mask over your nose, he tucked the strings over your ears. Smiling at you with his eyes, he booped your covered nose while cooing.

„We need to keep you covered up, cub. We don't want to share!” His laughter got louder, making you smile lightly. With the seatbelts undone, you all piled out of the van. After locking the car, you all waited for Jimin before walking on the pavement. A lot of people were around, bundled up in soft-looking jackets. You did so too once the cold wind hit you.

A warm hand took hold of yours, warming you up slightly. When you looked up, you were once again met with the dragon eyes of the pack alpha. With your hand and cheeks warming up, you looked away.

„I don't want to lose you, pup. Stay in sight, okay? Don't wander off too far; stay with alphas for now.” Feeling able to only nod, you felt his fingers squeeze around yours before he pulled your hand with his in the coat pocket.

Walking at a calm pace, with Taehyung leading the way, you four followed closely. Watching the cars pass on the busy road, you noticed a few limousines here and there. You kept to yourself, only stopping for a millisecond to stare. Even that was easy to notice for the older man, who laughed loudly.

„I'll take you in one some day, okay? I promise, baby cub.” You didn't take it too seriously, so you only nodded. With the first luxury brand shops in sight, the small group you were a part of walked towards the first one. A tall, white architectural structure captured your attention well enough before you entered. The shapes were curved and stood tall with a simple black name planted on the front, spelling out DIOR.

The doors slid open, allowing the cold air from outside in, but after you all entered, they quickly closed again. With two guards standing next to the exit, you immediately felt watched and stared down. Before you had time to get anxious, a hand on your lower back lightly pushed you forward.

Jimin smiled at you; his soft palm slid over and stayed on your waist. Ushering you forward, you noticed Taehyung and Jin wandering off towards different sections, only to have sales attendants rush after them.

You knew that Dior was a luxury brand, but you didn't know that the inside would be so grand. You should have expected it based on how the outside looked. Right opposite the entrance was a wide and curved staircase to the left leading to a second floor. With two mannequins standing next to it, they were both clothed in the new season's styles. The one further from you wore a soft-looking checkered jacket with light tan accents and a long, pleated beige skirt. With a white turtleneck and a bag in hand, the outfit did look quite nice to your eyes.

The other figurine wore a more daring outfit: a brown leather coat that went below its knees was left open. A fur cuff around it was cheetah-patterned, matching the cheetah-print Barret she wore. Underneath, she wore a soft baggy sweater vest with a crisp white shirt left untucked underneath. A pair of loose-fitting black trousers went over her feet, so the tall heels she wore just barely peeked out, making the mannequin appear taller than she was.

The white marble flooring was shining brightly under the strong lights, reflecting everything on it. Pulling you along, the men lead you towards one of the jewellery and purse showcases. Kept under a glass, there lay many handbags, set up in neat lines. Some were small, some bigger, and they all seemed a bit too much for you.

The necklaces were mostly spelled Dior and made out of rose gold; there were also many bracelets shown. With the same logo, you liked a few but didn't dwell on them for too long. There was no way you could wear any of this stuff, so why look too closely?

Allowing the alphas to pull you through the store calmly, whenever a sales clerk appeared, they were quick to wave them off. You felt out of place, but the warmth their hands provided made you feel better, so you just complied and went with it.

Occasionally stopping, they took notes of where you were looking; if you watched over a pair of heels for a bit longer, a ring, a bracelet, or just a simple sun hat, they were quick to remember.

Eventually, you three walked up the stairs to where the clothing section was. This wasn't like the usual store you knew, where the clothes were filled with all different sizes and the clothing racks were full. Here, there were only a very few items, usually kept in one or two sizes.

You didn't have much time to look around closely before Taehyung walked towards you, with two store workers quickly trailing him. Both of them, the girl and the man, had their hands full with stuff. From bright colours to softer stuff, there was a lot they held. Taking a hold of your soft cheeks, the wide boxy smile was all you could pay attention to.

„Here, babycheeks, I found some stuff for you to try on. Why don't we do that now? Will you do a nice fashion show for your alphas, my good girl?”

„Ah, Tae, that sounds just like the best thing ever. Here princess, the changing rooms are this way. Did you already select the right sizes for our baby?” Jimin asked his younger packmate, who nodded quickly.

„Of course, don't worry. It should all fit, the clerk's chose the sizes. Here, babycheeks, we will sit here for now. You just come out once you are ready okay? Alpha's are right here.”

Pulling open the long curtain, you were lightly pushed in the large changing room. There were a few hangers in there with few clothes already hung up on them. Turning to look at the men, everything happened bit too quickly for you to realise what was going on before you were already standing in the changing room.

Before them stood a few leather armchairs, already occupied by the pack, while Namjoon and Tae had his knees spread, Jimin chose to set one over the other and rest that way. Meeting his gaze once again, the man spoke again.

���Don't worry baby, we aren't going anywhere. Be a good girl now and go try on some stuff okay? I'm sure you'll like it.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[sy3ra]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lovestruck!

𖤐 description: love-struck/lovestruck (adj.) experiencing intense feelings of romantic love for someone; besotted or infatuated.

𖤐 ft. lovestruck/lovesick! satoru × yuji's sister! reader (fem)

𖤐 content: lovestruck/lovesick! satoru, fluff, sickeningly disgusting fluff, the gojo satoru falling in love, wholesome, feeding my delulu rn, cringe and cliche sorry, reader is described as very beautiful, almost angelic (the things lovestruck! satoru can see lol), reader is yuji's big sister here (obviously an au)

𖤐 author's note: my writing style is so inconsistent i'm so sorry, everything's just based on my mood lol & my grammar sucks. anyways i'm terribly down bad for a lovestruck satoru so, i'm bringing y'all with me. (p. s. reader is well versed in arts and crafts and runs a small business in australia)

(author from the future: heyy, since y'all agreed that i should post this piece of crap rotting in my drafts, so here it is! so sorry for the late post, i've been busy with school.)

masterlist | requests

reblogs are appreciated!

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆★

"sensei, can we go to the airport?"

yuji suddenly asks, looking up at his teacher, who was seated beside him. "airport? why do we need to go there?" probed satoru. "my big sister's coming back from australia today. normally, she would only come back for vacation but...now that our grandpa has passed, i guess she just wanted to give me some support." yuji responded with a mellow smile at the thought of his big sis, he's missed her so much.

satoru pondered for a moment, before giving his student an accepting grin and a thumbs up. "i don't see why not! i mean if it's for my student of course i'll accept" he said, pearly whites showing as he stood up, which was soon followed by a gleeful yuji. "really? thank you, sensei!" yuji's smile widened, to which satoru returned with the same gleeful smile. seeing his students happy in this damned world was enough.

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆★

"so, what's your sister like?" satoru asked curiously, hands gripping the steering wheel as they drove to the airport. (unfortunately, he had to drive) yuji's eyes lit up at this, finding this the best opportunity to ramble about his big sister.

"she's the best sister anyone could ever possibly ask for, except her teasing, she still treats me like a kid even now.." yuji started, obviously passionate about his beloved big sister. "she's well versed in arts and crafts, and even she even opened up a small shop in australia!"  she's talented, satoru thought, feeling the gleefulness of his student from the driver's seat. "she sounds impressive," he nodded with a smile, a pause following soon after. "is she pretty?" satoru felt bold at the moment, not sure why. maybe he was just curious, yes that's it, right?

"very! she's basically the female version of me, sensei!" yuji replied, to which satoru chuckled imagining a vague image of yuji's sister in his mind. "can't wait to meet her then!" satoru nodded with a cheeky smile as they got nearer to the airport.

the weather was surprisingly pleasant, the sun shining down from the large patch of blue sky, covered slightly by white fluffy cumulus clouds creating a breezy atmosphere that isn't cold but not too hot. the traffic wasn't too much of a bother as well, they got to the airport as quickly as they left the jujutsu technical high school.

the only predicament was, the airport is jam packed with people. yuji frantically searched for his big sister, since her plane had landed thirty minutes ago. even with satoru's height, it's still quite hard to look around properly, he didn't quite know what yuji's big sister looked like in person, yuji just described her to be a feminine version of him.

that is until he sees his student's eyes light up, rushing towards someone, almost pushing everyone that was in the way, engulfing a shorter girl with the same pink hair as yuji in a bear hug.

"you've grown so much, yuji! you're taller than me now!" the pink haired woman said, stepping back to look at her little brother (that's not so little anymore). satoru couldn't see her very well, unfortunately. "i missed you lots, nee-san! i brought sensei with me, come meet him!" yuji takes his sister's hand and leads her to satoru, who was somewhere at the entrance of the airport, leaning against the wall.

to say he was infatuated by her was an understatement, hell, he was enamoured by the woman who stood before him. she was short, her hair shone a strawberry pink like her brother's, her eyes, oh her eyes were beautiful, they shone like a pair of gems, and her smile, they were so bright and warm, almost like the gentle rays of the sun. she stood out from the rest of the crowd.

"hi! you must be yuji's sensei. i'm (____) itadori, his big sister. nice to meet you..uhm, sorry what was your name again?" you greeted with a smile, small dimples showing on each side of your cheek as you held out your hand for him to shake.

your voice snapped him out of his euphoria, it sounded so angelic, he wanted to hear your voice everyday. satoru's mind felt absent as he looked down at you, you were really more beautiful than he had imagined you to be.

"sensei?" yuji queried with concern, making satoru shake his head, that same charming and handsome smirk appearing on his face (he was nervous). "sorry sorry, nice to meet you too, miss (____). i'm satoru gojo." he held his hand out as well, meeting yours, his hand was larger than your hand, almost swallowing it whole.

you smiled as you shook hands with him, feeling a small electric spark when your skin came in contact with one another, though you paid no mind to it.

"yuji has told me all about you, mr. gojo! thank you kindly for taking care of my brother. How could I possibly repay your kindness?" you said with a slight bow, making satoru feel slightly embarrassed  (for the first time ever). "no need, i was just doing my job as a teacher." replies satoru, clearing his throat. his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. hard. why was he so nervous in the presence of this woman who he just met? he was so used to flirting with other girls (despite being a virgin) but.. you. you made him nervous.

"oh I insist, mr. gojo!" you chuckled, lifting your head up, straightening your posture. yuji tugged at your sleeves, making you look at your little brother. "what is it, yuji?" you ask, tilting your head sideways. cute: satoru thought. "i'll go to the bathroom for a bit" yuji says quietly, earning a nod of acknowledgement from his sister. "sensei" yuji gives him a thumbs up before rushing to the nearby restrooms of the airport.

"well that was something" satoru laughs as he stands there, quite awkwardly now that he's left alone with you out of all people. you on the other hand, only laughed at his awkward response. "now, back to my statement: how can i repay you for taking care of my brother, mr. gojo?" you ask once again, you were stubborn like your brother, almost.

satoru comes up with an absurd idea in mind, he hesitates, this was going to be a bad idea. "your number," satoru responds, his throat becoming dry from the sheer nervousness he was feeling. "you can repay me by giving me your number, miss (____)." he continues, it was insane how he was able to keep his smirk up despite his palms beginning to sweat.

you were silent for a moment, your cheeks becoming rosy by each passing second. it wasn't always you encountered a man who was bold and smooth enough to ask for your number, and actually become successful at it. you chuckled as a response, your chuckle coming out as embarrassed instead of happily as originally intended. "really now?" you whisper, your index finger scratching your cheek lightly, before you came up with an idea.

you rummaged through your backpack, finding a thin black marker in one of its pockets. "that's a pretty bold move you got there, mr. gojo" you bite back a smile as you take his left hand and begins to write your number on his palm, you looked so adorable in his eyes, with your half-lidded gaze concentrated on writing the numbers on his skin, your visibly rosy cheeks, and your hair that was annoyingly in the way of letting him see your face in all its glory.

slowly, satoru lifts his free hand up to tuck a thick strand of your pink hair behind your ear, since it was in the way. a seemingly harmless action yet it made you divert your attention from his palm, to his face with slightly wide eyes, and suddenly, your gaze felt like a spotlight, it was as if you were looking at him like he was the only man in the world.

you clear your throat, stepping back to give him his space, and then put your black marker back in your bag, eyes studying the numbers that you wrote on his palm. "there"  you say simply, with a small smile. satoru stands there, seemingly in a state of euphoria for a moment before shaking his head, cerulean blue eyes looking down at the black ink drawn on his skin through his blindfold. a lopsided smirk appearing on his face. "now for some reason, i feel quite special to have a cute girl's number in my contact list. thank you, miss (____)." he responds, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin as he stuffs his left hand in his pocket, careful not to smudge the ink on his palm. after all this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

in return, you huff out a laugh. "(____)'s fine, mr. gojo." you chime in, your voice seemed so soft to him.

"i'm back!" yuji yells, catching the attention of the two adults as her runs back from the restrooms. "why don't we grab a meal? my treat" you say, smiling at the two boys, in which yuji returns with an excited nod. "i don't mind, but it will be my treat, i insist." satoru offered, "oh no need, mr. gojo. i insist." you reply,

"i insist, miss (____)"

"no, i insist, mr. gojo!"

"why don't we just divide the bill?" chimed yuji, making the two adults that stood in front of him think for a moment before coming to a conclusion.

"oh alright, that seems fair." you nod, looking up at satoru, the man nods as well. "then it's settled, let's go!" satoru grins excitedly, staring down at yuji and back to you.

"let's go! i'm starving!" yuji groans, taking the first step forward, and you smile at your younger brother, a sweet, nostalgic smile.

satoru swears to himself that he was going to win your heart, your soul, all of you. you were perfect from head to toe.

and he sure as hell isn't gonna let someone like you go.

— Mayven.

[mightypurplethunder]

I don't want to see any of you usamericans talk about "punching nazis" ever again. I don't want to hear yall pat each other on the back and say shit like "If I had been alive during the holocaust I would have done something about it", or any other white savior shit like that.

You don't care about jews, you didn't care about them back then, just as you don't care about palestinians now. Yall repeat and repeat "the holocaust was terrible, we should condemn it", not because you care, but because it lifts yourselves up. Because it's the only war that the US won where they just happened to be on "the good side", so it portrays you as heroes, warriors of justice, which happens to be excelent propaganda material, so you exploit it. You make memorials, you make films, hundreds of them, fetishizing the jewish suffering and portraying yourselves as the force of good that saved them all. Meanwhile, dozens of other genocides - many of them even bigger and bloddier than the holocaust - happen around the world, many of them endorsed or supported by your government. But yall don't care. It's not the holocaust. You're not the good guys in this one so why bother making a movie, why pay atention to it at all? It's hard to keep track of everything happening in the world, it has nothing to do with you. So you just keep scrolling your socials paying no mind to whatever fucked up shit is happening out there, until you run into some fucker from the global south posting something mildly critical of israel, or about how the United States shamelessly exploits jewish history for the sake of warfare, or how victim mentality is a dangerous thing for a marginalized group to hold on to, and you get furious. How dare they say things that don't align with the narrative I've been fed my whole life?? They are anti-semitic!! They hate jews!! They are nazis!! And you tell them so, you put them in their place, because you are a democrat and a good guy and you won't tolerate nazis. And then you reblog "support our troops" posts and write letters to your president begging him to bomb brown people on the other side of the planet because they are terrorists, I think. And I'm here to tell you that you are not the good guy, you are not a hero. You are a victim of indoctrination and an idiot, and your domestic white politics mean absolutely nothing to the rest of the world.

Yes, I did watch Schindler's list. No, I don't hate jewish people. Yes, I'll aggresively condemn Israel's actions and anyone blind enough to say that one genocide justifies another, and I will always support palestinian people. And if you happen to be a jewish person that has somehow found themselves in the center of a conversation that isn't even about you, and getting negative attention you don't deserve, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that no matter what you do or where you live, you keep being used as a scapegoat and your life and history exploited for colonialist propaganda, your heritage is worth more than that.

So keep calling yourselves the good guys, keep pulling the anti-semite card or the "Palestine is homophobic" argument. Keep playing your white politics in your white country that you stole from non-white people. The rest of the world is watching you and history will remember you as what you are and always have been; fucking colonizers.

[aspirationalpeony]

What She Deserves

Summary: Melissa hears a painful truth, and you're there to help her recover. Content Warnings: Unhealthy coping mechanisms, discussion of infidelity, emotional neglect, emotional abuse, disordered eating. Don't worry, it's all hurt/comfort! AO3 Link

You come home one day, and she's crying.

There were warnings when you entered the house: Her high-heeled Docs, discarded sloppily like she'd yanked them off right in the doorway. The open bottle of wine and the lipstick-smeared glass on the low table in front of the plastic-covered couch, a stack of photo albums just by them, a few opened and in disarray. Her leather jacket thrown right onto the carpeted floor. You knew there was something going on--a bad day with the double class? A fight with Barbara?--and you squared your shoulders as you went up the stairs.

You weren't, aren't, ready for what you hear. You've never heard her cry like that, in real, deep sobs, body-wracking things that must be shaking her to the roots. You find yourself hovering outside the bedroom door, just listening for long, awful seconds, trying to understand it, that that sound could be coming from Melissa. And knowing, because you know her, that she doesn't want you to hear this. That there'll be a fight if you go in that room. No matter how desperate she is to be held and comforted--first, there'll be a fight.

It's how she's always been. Your tears turn her buttery-soft, gentle and sweet, her rough edges showing only when she offers to beat the shit out of whoever's hurt you. But her tears? Her tears are a vulnerability. And Mel--she can't stand being vulnerable. When she knows she's showing weakness, that there's a chance someone, anyone, even you, could go in for the kill, her claws come out, twice as long and sharp.

(She told you, one time, about her dad; how Kristen-Marie's tears would make him do anything to soothe her, turning the gruff, remote man into a teddy bear, cradling his baby girl in his arms. How Melissa's tears would turn him mean, how she was the eldest, she was supposed to take care of her family, and here she was howling and whining like a pathetic pissant baby, and she should go help her Nana with dinner and her siblings with their homework and stop bothering her dad, who worked so hard, sunup to sundown, to provide for this fuckin' family, and don't fuckin' touch me again, Melissa Ann.)

You're getting to be okay with it. She's getting to be better with it, too, which helps. But you know this isn't going to be a time she can reel herself in and catch that anger before it flares. You need to be there for her. You open the door.

She's at her vanity table. You love that she has one of those things; it's so Old Hollywood, covered in the skincare and makeup that didn't fit into her bathroom, a secret stash of gummy bears in one drawer, a picture of her and her Nana, framed, where she can look at it whenever she needs her. You love that picture, Melissa looking so terribly young, her hair still dark and undyed, her Nana with those green Schemmenti eyes and a look of profound love and pride on her aged face.

When she hears the door creak open, Melissa whips around to look at you. She's not that girl in the photo anymore, but you see shades of her in her crumpled, flushed, tear-stained face; you see that woman, young and hurt and afraid, behind the armor that she's been building for so long, layer on layer.

"Baby," you say.

"Fuck off," she barks at you. You wince. She winces, too, hearing herself; her brows knit and her head ducks and she trembles as she fights another sob. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I--" her voice is hoarse. "Babe, fuck, just go," she whines, sounding like somebody else, some scared, struggling stranger. "Just go, I don't, I don't--" you can hear so many ends to that sentence: I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want to hurt you just because I'm hurting. I don't want you to know how vulnerable I am.

"Hey," you say, "it's okay, it's okay," like she's a hurt kid or a shying horse, and every instinct in you calls for you to put your arms around her, pull her to your chest the way she does you when you cry. Instead, you move closer--slowly--and you sit with her. You get down on the floor, maybe a foot from her chair, and you don't touch her. She looks at you with her mouth twisted and eyes narrowed. Tears are still trickling from her reddened eyes; her body is shaking with it.

You want to cradle her face in your hands. You've learned she can't take it, not when she's in the middle of the feeling; she can't stand being touched at all. She has to get the emotions out in their first, horrible frenzy, and then she can let herself be comforted, once the frightened, angry, hurt little girl inside has let go of the wheel and let the grown woman take back over.

Her hands are fists on her thighs. There's something crumpled in one of them, a paper.

"Baby, what happened?" you say.

"You should just fuck off," she says hoarsely. "You should just fuck off outta my life. You're gonna, anyway, so--" her face pinches. She fights another sob that shakes her whole body. Her mascara is a wreck. "I'm gonna hurt you," she says, "and you're gonna hurt me, and I can't take it. I can't take it, so, so--"

"What happened?" You lean forward. A little glimmer of intuition comes. Your own eyes are starting to tear up, seeing her, but your head stays level. You can't get whipped up into her pain or you won't be able to help. "Did Joe do something?"

Now she lets the sob out, deep and hoarse. Her clenched fist opens and the paper drops. You recognize it once its face is turned up on the floor: it's a photo from one of the old albums she still keeps, one of the loving records she'd made of a marriage that failed. She let you look through them a few times. ("I don't keep them 'cause I want him back or nothin'," she'd told you. "He can drop dead, for all I care. But I..." A cloud passed over her face then, troubled and sad, and you didn't push; you knew she was giving you a privilege letting you see her like this, much less look at these mementos of a young woman desperate to be loved.)

The photo is her and Joe cutting the cake at their wedding. It's a four-tier monstrosity, probably made by a Schemmenti relative, with thick frosted swags and rosettes and topped with a hokey little bride and groom. Mel's in her big puff-shouldered princess dress, her huge eighties hair and thick makeup. Joe's got a five o'clock shadow and looks like hell from his bachelor party the night before. She's told you how hurt and lonely she was that day, even though she's smiling in all the pictures; how she starved herself, ate one meal a day and drank nothing but water, getting ready to fit into her dress, and he rolled out of bed an hour before the wedding, hungover, stifling burps through the ceremony.

"What happened?" you repeat.

"Nina called," she says.

You straighten. "Are they getting married?" It would make sense: the tears, the photo, the terror of being left again. That sack of shit Joe, you're going to take Edith Houghton and--

"What? No," she says, so startled by the suggestion she's speaking in her own voice again, not the one hoarse and strained by tears. "No, they're not--no." Her other hand opens in her lap and she looks down at the pair of them. You can see her trying to make herself relax, make herself stop crying and shouting. "Sorry, baby," she whispers, "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt ya. I didn't mean..."

"I know." If you took Melissa at her word every time she cursed, well... "I'm not fucking off anywhere. Can you tell me what happened?"

She gives you a look, harrowed and bruised, then drops her gaze back to her hands. She opens and closes her fingers, working on herself still. "Nina called. I was still at the school. She called to thank me for dinner," she says roughly. "And she said she had to tell me somethin'. She said..."

No marriage. Your next thought is, Oh my god, she's pregnant. That's one of the sorest subjects of Melissa's whole life, and if Nina had the audacity to tell Melissa that over the phone, while she was at work, to deliver such crushing, awful--where's Edith Houghton, you really are going to--

"She thanked me for dinner," Melissa repeats. She's getting more control and tips her head back against the welling of tears in her eyes, like it will save her makeup now. She's staring at the ceiling when she says, "Nina said she had somethin' to tell me, because she knew you and me, and her and Joe, all of us, were gettin' closer, like bein' friends."

That's true. You aren't so crazy about the Joe you know from Melissa's stories, but apparently he's a changed man now, and you can still see shades of the guy Melissa liked so much: his silver head of hair still full and sleek, his trim, Selleckian mustache, his way with a grin and a laugh. You like Nina better than him, a woman about twenty years his junior, tough and smart with arms covered in tattoos. You've never pointed out that she's like a different shade of Mel, a version that Joe hasn't had time to hurt, although you've had the thought many times.

Last week all four of you had gathered at Mel's for dinner. Melissa refused to cook--she'd never cook for Joe again, she told you privately, not after all the housekeeping and nannying and babying she did in their marriage--but you all got takeout and sat around the table and talked and laughed, openly, comfortably, the way friendly couples do, and you could believe that all that history was far behind them, that there was a future where Joe and Mel could admit to their scars and what they'd inflicted on each other, and be brothers-in-arms, veterans of the fight, not soldiers on opposing sides.

"Nina said," Melissa says, and wipes away a tear. "She said they were together. While me'n'Joe were still married."

You stare. "What?"

"They were together," she repeats. "They've been lyin', this whole time. 'Bout when they met. It was way before the divorce. He was fuckin' her on the side." Her lips pinch together and her mouth twists. She stares at the ceiling like the answer to it all is up there and fiercely bats away another tear. "I..." You watch her. Her throat works as she tries to get words together. "Nina said she couldn't keep lyin' to me. That she always felt awful about it. And now I got you and she likes ya and wants things to be fair, for us to... To choose our friends right, and..."

You've always had an impression of Nina as like Mel in this way, too--as rough, but fundamentally decent. Prone to a little lie here, a little sleight-of-hand there, but not enough to really hurt somebody, never playing games where it really mattered. What's awful is that this sounds like her all over, that single-minded sense of fairness, a toughness inside that made her willing to face the music, to blow up this burgeoning friendship if it meant being honest.

"Baby," you say softly, and inch closer on the floor. It's enough. The wall crumbles. Melissa slides straight off the chair onto the floor with you, practically into your lap, and her whole body sways into your arms. You take her, you hold her. She shakes in your grip, crying, still, though no longer those sobs that seemed to scour her from the inside out. You carefully stroke her hair back from her face as she clings to your encircling arms, and you ride it out together.

She comes back from it slowly, stilling, relaxing into you. Then she hiccups, in a loud, distinct hic, and instantly leans back to give you an accusing look, daring you to laugh. She hiccups again. It makes you smile. You touch her red, damp cheek, brushing your thumb against its flushed curve. "It's okay," you tell her. She hiccups. "I'm going to get you some water. You wanna sit on the bed?"

When you come back, she's not on the bed; she's back at the vanity. She's scrupulously wiping her makeup off with little micellar pads, lips still pinched like she's trying not to cry, leaning close to the mirror to make sure she's getting it all. You sit on the edge of the mattress with water in one hand and ibuprofen in the other, waiting, and when she's done, she turns to accept your offerings, her eyes lowered, a little shamefaced.

"C'mon," you say when she's knocked the pills back. "C'mere." She gets up and joins you, crawling right to the middle of the bed, and you crawl after her, settling on your back so that she can curl into the protective curve of your arm. You look down at her face--her long nose with its cute, turned-up snub at the end, the lashes shielding her reddened green eyes, the mark at the corner of her mouth that records every smile and frown--and you don't get it. You don't get why Joe is... Joe. And why he did what he did.

More's going to come, you know that. The air's heavy with it. Finally Melissa starts to talk. She stares across the room while she does it, your hand stroking her hair.

"I knew he was cheatin'," she says. "I think he was bonin' some of the other firefighters' wives. And he probably would go out and pick some girls up, too, some, y'know, whoever he could get his hands on, right. At that point, it was, what, the last few years, and I wasn't puttin' out, so. I mean, I'd blow him, to get him off my back, but not the real thing."

"That doesn't mean it was your fault."

She doesn't answer that. Instead, she says, "I didn't think any of 'em were serious. Like, that it was an affair affair, you know. Like that made it better. Anyhow..." She presses more closely into you. You're sure she can hear your heartbeat, and you feel it as she tries to steady her breathing to match you. "Nina said it was happenin' the last year," she says. "The very last year he and I were married. Funny thing is, I was tryin' to make it work."

You've seen photos from that time in her life. You know what trying to make it work entailed for her: back on the one-meal-a-day diet, trying to get her menopausal body back to a twenty-five-year-old's slimness; the brightening of her hair to fire-engine red, trying to be enough to catch his eye; the clothes she wore, trying to turn herself girly, like her princess-gown wedding dress had been so girly, and so unlike her. Oh, she's always feminine, Melissa--luxuriously, wonderfully feminine--but not girly, pink and wispy, delicate. Not like she tried to make herself for Joe.

"What was it all for?" she says wonderingly, voicing your own thought aloud. "What did I do all that shit for, baby? He was already fucking her. He already... Loved her." Her voice is hollow and lonely. You think of that story about her dad, what he told her, again and again, all her life, about her role in the world, about who she was. You're supposed to take care of this family. You're supposed to give up everything. You're supposed to give us what we want, we're supposed to have our cake and eat it, too, and fuck you if you try to keep even a crumb for yourself. He probably never said it as plainly as that, but it was what he meant.

"S'what I get," she says, very softly, almost to herself; it's a child's voice, meek and small, from that place deep inside where she's forever the self-loathing little girl, crying alone in the kitchen. "S'what I deserve."

"No." Her eyes flick up to yours. "You don't deserve that. You did it all because you cared about him," you say, petting the soft hair at Mel's temple. "Because you loved him. There's nothing wrong with that. That's not shameful." Her eyes dart away. You know you've caught a little bit of what's dragging on her--the shame. The shame of giving up everything for a man who didn't know her favorite color, her favorite ice cream flavor; of sacrificing her dream of a real home, a baby, the life she'd always imagined, for somebody who'd turn around and stick his dick in God knew how many other women.

"I hate him," you confide in her softly. She doesn't quite smile, but the corners of her eyes crinkle tenderly like she feels the smile inside. "I hate him so much." You echo her promises from all the times your roles were reversed, your tear-wrung body cradled in her arms: "You want me to beat the shit out of him?"

"Yeah," Melissa says at once, "please." She sniffles, then hiccups. "Jesus." Her head lolls against your chest. Her arm drapes over your waist and pulls you tight against her. "I really liked her," she says softly, into the quiet room. "That's... What fuckin' sucks about it, huh? I liked her, and I... I was likin' him again. He was my best friend, before you'n'Barb. And I... Wanted my friend back."

"It's okay." You scratch your nails gently against her scalp, tracing the sensitive skin at her nape. "It's okay you wanted him back, as your friend. You can still care about him. About both of them. And be angry, and hate them, even though you care, and not talk to them for a long time. What you feel is okay."

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. You wonder if she's ever heard those words before. If Joe or anyone else in her life has embraced this chaos of contradictions, this woman so full of passion that she can't help but feel, all of it, everything at once. That's why she's so tough, you know. Because despite it all--her shitty dad, her vicious sister, her awful ex, and everyone in between--she never lost that thing they all zeroed in on, that weakness. She never lost that sensitive, loving heart. She had to protect it; no one else would do it for her.

Now you can. Now you will. You lean down and kiss the top of her head. She hiccups.

"You want me to run you a bath?" you ask. Her head bobs against your shoulder in a little nod. You give her another kiss and start to extract yourself from her arms. She rolls into the warm space left by your body as you enter the en-suite.

You love Melissa’s bathroom, same way you love the vanity table. It’s an extension of herself, a little bit organized and a little bit chaos: hair care and skincare products on every available surface, eyeliners worn down to a nub, her perfume, her lip gloss. Tucked into the edge of the mirror, wrinkled from long exposure to the steam of her baths and showers, are two pictures. One is herself and Barbara at Barb’s sixtieth birthday party. “We looked like a whole meal,” Mel told you frankly when you asked about it. They’re both in dresses that cling to the generous curves of their bodies, heads tilted together, wearing mirror smiles and a shade of red lipstick that’s nearly the same. It washes you with tenderness to see it.

The other picture is her and you. The guy she dated before you tried to take her to Dave & Buster’s on a first date, so of course, you two had to go. It’s a strip of photos from an automated booth, the two of you in outrageous poses: her pretending to take a bite out of your cheek in one, your tongues lolling and eyes crossed in another. In the last photo, the camera’s just caught you looking at her, eyes full of love, while she’s squinting over her glasses at the lens, trying to tell if it’s taking the next picture.

You start the bath running. You make sure it’s hot as hell, just the way she likes it, and add a judicious amount of the first body wash you grab, letting the water churn it into bubbles. A shuffle and a rattle behind you; it’s Mel in the doorway. “Hey, baby,” you say. She looks like shit, which you don’t mention. “It’s filling up. Here, I’ll let you relax.”

“Stay with me,” she says.

You sit next to the tub while she lowers herself into the water. Her clothes are a messy pile on the floor; you pull them toward yourself and start folding them, piece by piece, making her roll her eyes affectionately. She tips her head back against the edge of the tub and looks at you, and you feel yourself prickling with the focus of that gaze.

"What are you thinkin'?" she asks at last, quietly.

"I'm thinkin'," you echo, rubbing the fabric of her silky pink blouse between your fingers, "that you're tired, and I'm tired, so in a little bit, I'll order some dinner." Maybe Indian? You've learned never to get Italian with Melissa; everything's scrutinized, down to the texture of the breadcrumbs. "Then I'll wrap you up in your bathrobe. We'll watch a movie..." You move on to her jeans. They're still warm from her body. You smile a little to yourself as you tidy them into a small square. "A Paul Newman movie." Her favorite. "And drink wine. And then you're going to go to bed. And you're not grading anything tonight, okay? And I'll hold you until you fall asleep."

"What are you thinkin'?" you ask, and look at her. What you see makes you straighten your spine, makes you feel spotlit and strange.

She's staring. She looks... How can you describe it? Unsmiling, but not unhappy; tender, but not amorous; vulnerable, but not afraid. She looks... Wonderstruck.

She reaches out with one small hand and her manicured nails brush your cheek gently. "I think I never been taken care of the way you take care of me," she says. Her thumb brushes your lower lip. "Thank you, baby. I..." You see the questions in her green eyes, the sensitivity and confusion: How did this happen? Will I get to keep this? What will happen to me when it's taken away?

"I'll always take care of you," you promise her, voice soft. You dip your head and kiss the pad of her thumb. Kiss her palm, making her sigh. You take her hand in yours and she squeezes hard. You make her a soft promise, one you know she's never heard before: "Melissa... It's what you deserve."

[daisyjonesgf]

Time for smutty angst! (I have so much anxiety I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you)

‼️CW FOR LIKE HEAVEY DEGRADING AND JUST LIKE HUNGER GAMES ESC STUFF???

Don’t imagine the way Finnicks heart breaks as he’s forced to degrade, to hit, to choke, to pull his sweet girl while all the elite are watching. Don’t imagine all the things he’s forced to say…

“Fucking slut, you like being watched huh? Say hi to all the nice men…”

“Such a crybaby. Cryin’ cause it feels too good, yeah? Being fucked to tears”

“I’ll just leave you here, let these nice men take you. Bet you’d enjoy that, dirty bitch”

“needy whore, can’t get enough cock?”

A part of him breaks at every word. After each session he holds her, whispering praises, trying to undo all his words.

“I love you, Angle. You’re so beautiful…”

“Come here, it’s okay to cry…I’m here…shhh….”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Tomorrow we can stay in bed all day, how does that sound? My sweet girl…”

Yet as much as he tries the words leave imprints on his soul. He can’t decide which is worse though, his hateful words or the way he’s forced to hit, punch, choke, abuse her. Anytime he looks over and sees a bruise, a scratch, a bite, a slash, anything done without the care she deserved he feels like he’s dying inside.

He remembers when he was forced to choke her, the next day he saw bruises on her neck in the shape of his hand. That damn near broke him.

-🌾anon

you're not bothering me at all, i literally get so excited when I see you in my ask box. I love answering all of these and talking about all the nuances of their relationship and the story

but I feel like finnick would spend every moment being so soft and delicate to make up for all of it, like saying she's his pretty girl and doing everything for her, he feels like he needs to endlessly make up for it because of all the terrible things they make him say

"being so loud, what a pathetic whore"

"crying like that just makes me want see more tears"

"don't try and hide you moans, everybody already knows your a needy slut, don't play innocent now"

how's he supposed to say that and know you're gonna lay on the bed wordlessly for at least an hour, staring at the ceiling, after it's all done? how could anyone expect him to say things like that to the sweet girl he moved heaven and hell for so she could stay alive?

when he's being told to choke harder and there's the outprints of his fingerprints on your neck or when he obeyed you and hit harder, leaving nasty bruises on your face, how was he supposed to live with himself? he wondered what the people in the district thought with no idea of what the Capitol was really like and no makeup artists to keep the bruises covered, they probably thought he was the devil incarnate. he probably deserved that, it's how he felt when he had to lay his hands on you like that.

even if you tell him constantly that it's not his fault, that you don't blame him it still makes him hate himself for going along with it. he wants death to embrace him when you lay there after and be softly tries to coax you enough so you'll let him clean you up. because you could spend hours staring at the wall and then there's only a slim amount of time before the mask is back on again. before his sweet girl is once again pretending everything is just fine, trying to protect him.

"it's okay, sweet girl, everyone's gone now. just you and me."

"I didn't mean any of it, you're so perfect, angel, I'm so sorry."

"I love you so much, angel, do you want to take a bath?"

"I can make you tea, sweet girl, and rest your favorite book to you, but you gotta get up. let me take care of you."

his words are so soft and whispered as he gently plays with your hair as if it will make up for all the harsh pulls. it's never less then half an hour, usually an hour, sometimes more of soft coaxing while your fade back into the real world. then he can take care of you

never for long though until you're starting to gain consciousness once again, the mask of bravery sliding back into place

"Finn, don't feel guilty, I know it's not your fault. Could never blame you."

"it'll go away, not as bad as last time."

"do you wanna go sailing when we get back home, take your mind off things?"

and your voice is quaint enough that he knows it's because you feel like it's a necessity to take care of him over yourself, who's still not ready. he knows you'd much rather recover by spending a day with him holding you in bed, but you'll refuse to let him unless you break. unless he softly reminds you that you're allowed too, makes you confront your unsteadiness until you're bawling. and he just wants to protect you because he feels like he's failed at it again and again.

but yeah I'm literally crying rn, this hurts

and disclaimer, I'm not in any way trying to romanticize this issue, I'm exploring the trauma of two fictional characters, my interpretation of finnick based off my series and his sweet girl, who's a character I created. It's fiction, it honestly helps me world build to think of all the small pieces not explicitly mentioned. if it's not for you, just scroll, I don't need to know about it, thank you.

[0lshadyl0]

Hiii !! can you write some generals yandere headcanons about flashy flash from one punch man please ? Nsfw or sfw or a mix of both it doesn't bother me ^^ Off course take your time you have the right to refuse the request, good health to you ^^*

I love ninjas and I really like One Punch Man (my favorites are Saitama, Sonic, Amai Mask, Flashy Flash and Zombieman), so much so that I have an OC for this series (which I'm still looking for a good name for her)

This request was definitely made for me

Flashy Flash Yandere Headcanons

Ok, as I mentioned before, I like ninjas and I like Flashy Flash, but let's be honest, his personality isn't the best, in fact, it sucks

This guy doesn't even consider people weaker than him, he doesn't pay attention to them and basically acts like they're stones in his way, he's proud, arrogant and borders on rude

So sorry to all the civilian darlings, this ninja won't even notice you beyond saving you and leaving you in a safe place

So at the very least, to get his attention you have to be an A-class heroine in the highest ranks (top 3) or be an S-class heroine like him, and even then it takes more than just power to get his full attention, with power you get his interest, but if it were only that he would have noticed Tatsumaki in a more romantic and not challenging way

This ninja's level of narcissism can rival Amai Mask, so in addition to being a strong heroine you must be very pretty, to the level of beauty that as soon as you appear in a room all eyes turn to you

Basically you have to be a mix of supermodel and strength equal to or greater than him, oh and you must also be incredibly fast because he doesn't wait for anyone

Having already specified how to get his attention, we are going to go to the behavior as a yandere, he is aware that his feelings are not normal, due to his upbringing as a ninja (where they were taught to suppress all emotion and become perfect weapons), but on the other hand, he feels that he has suffered enough and he also deserves to be happy and have a relationship (because first him, second him, third him)

His darling won't notice that he's interested in her thanks to his poker face and cold demeanor, she won't even notice that he's following her, because yes, he's a high-level stalker, when he wants to meet you to get closer to you he'll investigate your entire life and past so that there are no surprises for him

Also, it's a good way to know how to approach you and court you, even though he's terrible at it because he has zero experience in that field

When he finds out what city you live in, he'll patrol the area you live in so that both you (although it's not necessary since you're strong) and your home are safe from any monsters that decide to attack the city, consider it an act of love

Although he's a solo worker, you're a clear exception to the rule so whether you like it or not you'll work as a team with him (although he'll try to do everything just to keep you safe/impress you), basically you'll be there to cheer him on

At some point he would have considered kidnapping you if it weren't for the fact that you're strong and very famous, your disappearance would attract a lot of unwanted attention so he discarded the idea

He watches you at night when you sleep (when he has free time to do so of course), he knows by heart what your home looks like inside and sometimes he uses drugs to make sure you don't wake up so he can lay down next to you and on the nights when he feels extra naughty he can touch you inappropriately, he's a tits man so they'll get his most attention (size doesn't matter, boobs are boobs)

Even so, he'll wait for both of you to get into a relationship to initiate sexual relations (not because he's respectful or romantic but because he's a virgin with very little interaction with women and is just researching the female body)

[mezzy303]

So I've been rereading skip beat from the beginning for the first time in uhhhhh almost 10 years and I'm going inSaNE over characterizations and development that I have to write it down

At this point I'm only at the Heel siblings arc so I haven't gotten to the Guam or Saena arcs which are very big for Kyoko and Ren's character development and healing which I haven't reread since those chapters came out

Can we just take a moment to appreciate Nakamura for basing Kyoko and Ren's childhood struggles and trauma on very real things that aren't often, if at all, dealt with in anime/manga and also writing them with utmost care (Not only do the traumas inform their personalities, but their healing arcs aren't just a one and done thing!! It's a very slow process) Like starting with Kyoko, her single mother neglected her so much that she was raised by a family friend. On top of that, nothing Kyoko did was ever good enough for her mother, and both of these things are so apparent in Kyoko's character. She attaches herself to fairytales and magic as an escapism and because she relates to stories like Cinderella. She literally cannot function if she messes up and no one criticizes her. She can't properly acknowledge her own talents and beauty without it being attached somehow to fairytales; she never quite believes shes good enough. Similarly, she didn't want to bother anyone with her troubles, so she always dealt with them alone/in private spaces. Pretty sure she also has lowkey abandonment issues. And this is all parental trauma!! Things she already has before the series starts and she gets so utterly heartbroken she swears off romantic love entirely so she can never get hurt the same way again.

(I don't think I'll ever get over how Kyoko told all this to Kuu and he was literally like I'm adopting you. Your mine now. Sorry I don't make the rules ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And Kuu going home to his wife like hey we got a new kid 😂 Like Kyoko freezing up when she made mistakes and then Kuu showing her love instead of reprimanding her makes me go 🥹😩💖✨😭💝 Kyoko getting all fluffy from head pats🥹🥹 But on the downside she literally can't bring herself to call him dad unless she's in acting mode sjdfhsf)

When I really consider it, I wonder if Kyoko really loved Sho as a person or like.... the idea of him. Like he was just a convenient guy via proximity bc Kyoko needed someone to be her "prince". We haven't been shown exactly why she fell in love, but it would explain why she stuck with dedicating herself to him despite his terrible personality and knowing he never saw her the same way. It's portrayed like the concept of hatsukoi in anime where its ✨pure✨and innocent✨It seems very idealistic. Whereas Kyoko's love for Ren is more mature. She sees every aspect of Ren and doesn't sugarcoat it, she sees him as he is (she does him up on a pedestal but partially bc she admires him but also as an extreme measure to protect her heart and hide her feelings imo)

And REN. trauma to the max. He had to deal with the hardships of making a name for himself when his parents are already famous, extreme racism from being biracial, his friend/mentor dying from an accident he unintentionally caused???? Like boy hates himself so much he's literally disassociating 24/7 he needs a fucking therapist. I get how being Ren has helped him in some capacity but he needs a professional asap. Though deep diving into this is so interesting because Ren/Kuon compartmentalized his issues and the parts that he hates about himself so much he created its own persona ("Dark Kuon"), to the point he's rarely ever just himself. And he buried it so deep that as soon as he cracked the lid open, those emotions just spilled out. He can't even allow himself to be happy, and when he does feel truly happy, his automatic response is acting nonchalant,,,,,,,,,,,, he didn't even realize he was doing it at first 😢

Also the symbolism with Ren's watch makes me go a little feral. I don't remember if it's originally his or Rick's but it obviously stopped when the latter died and Ren keeps it as a reminder of what happened and why he went to Japan. It's a weird item since it grounds him but also represents his heavy trauma, and I think having those two things in one kinda showcases Ren's unhealthy coping mechanisms (like grounding himself to something traumatic isn't... great...). But that scene where he realizes he took it off and he has a moment of whether it to keep it on as Cain Heel or not??? *clenches fist* it was so good. (To recap it, he had his watch so he wouldn't lose himself in the role of BJ and then forgot it in the bathroom after an unexpected trauma response) Ren narrates his thoughts as choosing between Rick or Kyoko but interpreting this, he's choosing whether to keep himself stuck in his past trauma or move forward and let himself be happy AKA stick with unhealthy coping mechanisms vs try something healthy and rely on people he trusts. Kyoko essentially becomes someone Ren grounds himself to 🥺 He still needs therapy though lmao. He's so mentally unstable in this arc,,,

As I'm writing this I'm seeing a parallel between Kyoko and Ren and how they both had an experience that completely and utterly broke them, and it was this that pushed them onto their current paths in showbiz. And they likely would never have met each other again if those things never happened (they had to lose themselves to find each other?? 😭). It's so funny to me that Ren is all like ThEiR fAtEs ArE iNtErTwInEd with Kyoko and Sho when you have to consider the fact that him and Kyoko meeting again was like. a chance in a billion. It was fate 😂

KyoRen is such a poetic ship to me. The fact that they're different people when they meet and don't recognize the other. How Ren starts falling in love AS SOON AS HE REALIZES KYOKO IS THE SAME GIRL HE MET (Ren being gray/demiromantic.... more at 5). Kyoko lowkey starting to crush on Ren when she witnesses a bit of his real personality. These two things happening around the same time??????? And Ren being SO afraid of being Kuon, his true self, because of his bad qualities, but Kyoko pulling out the good qualities without him fully realizing it?? (I'm 100% referring to Kuon being a mischievous little shit and I live for how he teases Kyoko) tbh they treat each other differently from other people without even realizing it lol. And Kyoko being surrounded by toxic and possessive men pursuing her, and Ren being anything BUT. Like my man is a gigantic green flag. He recognizes that he can't seriously pursue Kyoko bc she's a minor and he really tries his best to only be a friend and mentor in her life and keeping her trust and never crossing her boundaries despite the stereotypes of men being "unable to control themselves." Y'all take point this should be the standard at minimum☝️

I have to talk about Sho bc this boy is so fucking toxic but he makes such a fascinating character. As much as I hate how Kyoko got heartbroken in the way she did, I think it was necessary so that she could leave Sho's sorry ass and cut him out of her life. Seriously,,,, he took advantage of her and used her as a servant. she literally dropped out of school, moved to a different city, and took on two jobs for the sole purpose of helping his career and then he threw her away like a used rag (JUST THROW THE WHOLE MAN AWAY). And then he has the audacity to fall in love with her smh. Anyway the fascinating part about him to analyze is how he's so possessive of Kyoko. Like she was a mere fly in his life, but she was always his. Until she wasn't. And I think those twisted thoughts kinda morphed into feelings for Kyoko. Ig in a way he still cares about her, but it could never hide how toxic he is. Anyone who's like I don't care how this person thinks of me as long as I take up the biggest space in their heart is egotistical and narcissistic. BUT he and Kyoko bickering like siblings will always be funny. Like epitome of two people who've lived with each other for way too long so they know how the other ticks and also get on each other's nerves 😂😂Sho does makes a good foil for Ren though. Like he's basically everything Ren is not: immature, temperamental, possessive, vain, the list goes on. His only redeeming qualities as a character is providing good drama and humor and being an example of what Ren isn't.

Skip Beat is really a story about healing and learning to love yourself and letting others love you and Nakamura is such a good story teller 🥺