#again i shouldn't be posting something so late but oh well

[semperama]

hiii, for the ask game, i would love nr 7 (i dreamt about you last night) for buddie! ✨️

This is probably not what you had in mind when you sent this prompt, and I'm sorry!! It got a little angsty on me. Also long.

“I dreamt about you last night.”

----

Buck wakes up to sheets soaked with sweat, a scream halfway out of his mouth. His ears are still ringing with gunfire, sirens. His heart is pounding, his lungs pulling desperately at the air. He paws at his face, his neck, looks at his hands in the semi-dark and expects them to be stained black with blood.

But it’s just clean skin. He’s alone in his bedroom, legs tangled in the blankets, no copper taste on his tongue.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The fourth time he’s had the same dream in as many nights.

He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom where he turns on the light and splashes water on his face, like that might wash it all the way. They always do it in the movies, the water trick. He wonders if it ever works for them. It doesn’t work for him.

Even when he’s awake, he sees it. The blank expression on Eddie’s face. The pool of blood spreading across the asphalt. The way Eddie’s hand moved. He reached for Buck like Buck could save him, and Buck tried, but it doesn’t feel like it was enough. Even though Eddie’s alive—it was because the bullet missed vital organs, and because the surgeons knew what they were doing. But if he’d been hit a couple inches to the left…Buck couldn’t have done anything. Eddie might still have reached for him, but all he would have been able to do was watch him die.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then splashes himself with another handful of cold water. He can’t—won’t—go back to bed, so he shuts off the faucet and goes downstairs, curls up on the couch and turns the TV on.

He should nod off again. He’s tired enough to. But he knows by now what will happen if he does, the worst moment of his life in technicolor, surround sound. So he stays awake, until the gray light of dawn crowds out the darkness beyond his windows.

———

The nightmares didn’t start until Buck went home. The nights he slept on the Diaz couch were quiet and dreamless, either because he was too exhausted or too numb. He went to work, did the necessary chores, helped Christopher with his homework and cooked him dinner. His body ran on autopilot and his mind stayed blissfully blank, and at night he dropped off to sleep like someone pulled his plug.

But it’s been almost a week since Eddie got home, five days since he sent Buck back to the loft. You’ll kill your back sleeping on that couch much longer. I’ll call you if you need you. Buck hasn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in a night since.

“You look like shit,” Chim says when Buck clomps up the stairs for breakfast at the start of their next shift. And Buck knows it’s the truth. He saw himself in the mirror this morning. His eyes are bloodshot, and the circles under them have darkened into a bruised shade of purple. His hands have been shaking so much, he keeps them stuffed into his pockets or curled around something—the strap of his bag, a coffee mug.

Bobby’s busy chopping a handful of chives, but when he looks up, Buck knows immediately what he’s going to say.

“Go home, Buck,” Bobby says. “You know you’re no use to us like this.”

What the fuck am I going to do at home? Buck wants to ask—but he also knows Bobby’s right. In his current state, he’d end up jamming the Jaws into his own leg, or throw himself off the side of a building before clipping in.

Maybe neither would be so bad, though. Maybe a different kind of pain would be a relief.

Regardless, he can’t go home. He sits inside the Jeep in the parking lot for almost ten minutes, hands curled around the steering wheel, wondering if a nap here would end up the same way. Then, he starts up the engine and drives to Eddie’s.

It takes a while for Eddie to get to the door, and Buck realizes too late he’s probably sleeping. It’s early, and the painkillers always make him tired, and Buck should have just—let him sleep. Someone should be getting some sleep.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Eddie asks when he sees it’s Buck on his doorstep. He looks—soft. His hair is sleep-rumpled. He’s not wearing a shirt, his sling strapped across his bare chest, and soft black sweatpants sit low on his hips. Buck wants to lean in and bury his face into the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Not sure,” Buck says honestly. His brain isn’t working right, probably. How could it, when it’s wrapped in three layers of cotton?

Eddie steps back to let him in, a furrow forming in his brow. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he says. “And why do you look like—is everything okay?”

Buck shuffles in just enough for Eddie to shut the door behind him. “I had a dream about you,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. He feels like a child, showing up in his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night to cry about the monsters in his closet. Or—it’s how he imagines it must feel. His own parents certainly weren’t interested in protecting him from the things that go bump in the night.

“A dream?” Eddie repeats. He takes a step forward, puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, and ducks his head to meet his eyes.

“More than one, actually.” Buck doesn’t want to look at him, but he knows he won’t stand for it. “Every night.” His voice cracks. “The sniper.”

“Buck.” Eddie’s hand tightens on him, grips hard enough to hurt. It’s good. Grounding. Buck wants to beg him to leave a bruise. “Why didn’t you say something?

“You’re the one who got shot,” Buck says. “What right do I have to even—”

“No, hey.” Eddie moves in closer, his hand kneading Buck’s shoulder, only a few inches of space between them now. “For me, it was just…pain, and-and your face, and then black. For you…I’ve been in your shoes before, too. I know how scary it can be.”

Buck wants to reach for him, but there’s no safe place to put his hands—the soft skin of Eddie’s waist, the pillow crease that slashes across the side of his face. “I almost didn’t save you.” Finally, Buck touches Eddie’s elbow, just gently, with the tips of his fingers. “I froze, Eddie.” His breath hitches. He can feel his face start to crumple. “I almost didn’t—”

“Oh, Buck.” Eddie yanks him in, guides Buck’s forehead to that spot Buck wanted to nestle into moments ago, holds him close. It’s awkward with Eddie’s bum arm smushed between them, his knuckles digging into Buck’s stomach, but it’s also perfect, because Eddie is warm and alive, his heart beating and blood rushing through his veins and lungs expanding, his breath ruffling Buck’s hair. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his fingers scratching into the hair at the back of Buck’s head. “I’m fine. You did save me, okay? I’m right here.”

Buck cries. For how long, he doesn’t know. Shaky sobs into Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s skin going slick under his cheek. His arms curl around Eddie’s waist, and his fingers dig in, clinging. Eddie almost died, but he didn’t die. He’s here, and he’s solid, and he’s real. Buck doesn’t ever want to let go of him again.

“Here, why don’t we…” Eddie says after some indeterminate amount of time, shifting to wrap his arm around Buck’s shoulders and tug. “Come on. Come lay down with me. You need sleep.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, a strangled sound. He lifts his head enough to walk under his own power, but he won’t stop touching Eddie, one arm still wound around him, their hips brushing all the way down the hall.

In the bedroom, he makes himself let go of Eddie long enough that Eddie can rearrange himself in bed, get into a position that’s comfortable for his shoulder. Buck climbs in carefully, but as soon as he starts to settle, Eddie pulls him closer, manhandles him so his face is tucked against Eddie’s neck again, that spot starting to feel like it was made just for him, two puzzle pieces fitting together.

“Sleep,” Eddie says, and soon, Buck does.

He falls into dreams of Eddie, but this time it’s different—not the sniper, not any other disaster. He dreams of Eddie and Chris at the zoo, gilded with sunlight. He dreams of Eddie grinning up at him during a rope rescue. He dreams of warm skin, warm breath, strong fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

He sleeps, and he dreams of Eddie.

[kajibunny]

⊹ . ݁ ⟡ the kaji fanclub (ren kaji x reader) ft. kusumi ₊✩‧₊˚

✿ summary: you and kaji’s vice captain created your own fanclub, a kaji fanclub. kaji finds out about it, so long story short, he gives you his honest feedback. ✿ contains: fluffy crack (is that a thing), suggestive themes (only on bonus part), kaji is your boyfriend, teasing and nonstop praise for kaji (i could talk about this man all day watch me)  ✿ a/n: my first wb fic!! kusumi would absolutely be the best wingman for you and kaji! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) i really like kusumi and his character design! he is so underrated but he's one of the cutest!  ✿ wc: 1.2k

ren kaji knew that you had been up to something lately. 

you and his vice captain kusumi have been busy giggling nonstop and checking your phones like a bunch of middle school girls, with you gushing and gasping about "how cute!" and "that's so perfect!" while looking down at your screen, showing only kusumi what was on it, receiving a reaffirming nod from the vice captain. 

at first, kaji was fine with it and did not care at all. he found it nice that you got along so well with kusumi, but after an hour of you two still going at it and not paying full attention to him when he tried to tell you something, he swore he was about to throw a fit if you didn't quit it.

what kaji didn't know was that you and kusumi are the co-presidents of the "kaji club" on social media, where you post pictures of daily kaji updates. 

at first, it was just because you found everything about your boyfriend so insufferably cute - his bowl haircut, his blond hair that he dyed all by himself, his unreadable expression, his never ending supply of lollipops, his iconic high kick, his sharp little canines (that sometimes you received little love bites from), his unpenetrable eardrums that were exposed to such loud music everyday, and much, much more. 

you wanted to give the whole world a glimpse of that cuteness - but that goes without saying that only you got the full package to yourself. 

so you thought about how funny it would be if he had his own fanclub. well, why not? if people loved him enough to vote him as their grade captain, then for sure he'd have lots of fans, right? and eventually, your idea turned into a reality. 

kusumi would send you the pictures he took that day, and you would manage the fanclub account. this time it was of kaji jumping into the water to save a cat while on patrol (as well as him patrolling topless afterwards - needless to say that particular picture was saved in your phone in a heartbeat, but you never uploaded it, it was for you and only you, his lover, to see and appreciate.) 

eventually, the kaji fanclub blew up to be an overnight sensation, mostly members of bofurin and the townspeople of makochi are among his biggest fans, but of course, you will always be ren kaji's number one fan.

"what the hell are you two laughing about?" kaji huffed in annoyance, trying to get a peek at your phone screen. 

you smile sweetly at him, letting out a "hm?", acting all innocent and telling him it was nothing and that he shouldn't worry about it. 

kaji, still having his suspicions that you were up to your shenanigans again, grabbed your phone from your hands and took a look at what you were so fixated with - it was a picture of kaji drinking from his bottled water with the caption "here is our super cool grade captain reminding everyone to always stay hydrated!~" then next it was a close up of kaji holding his lollipop. "today's lollipop flavor is peach! fun fact: it is also ren kaji's favorite fruit." it says.

oh. so that's what it was.

it was so random, that kaji couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards, almost smiling. he found it so unexpected and ridiculous but managed to keep a straight face.

"delete it." he cleared his throat, trying to fight back his amusement at the two of you coming up with something like this for him.

"no! give it back, ren! it's for our kaji fanclub! it already has more than a hundred likes, see! umemiya even commented-" you started, whining and pouting at your boyfriend, who rolled his eyes at you.

he hands you back your phone and sighs. "i don't need a hundred likes." kaji says, firmly. "because i already have the one like i need right here." 

you gasped when you realized that kaji was referring to none other than you, his "one like" that he needed. kaji, upon becoming aware of how lovestruck he probably sounded, turned his back away from you and put his headphones back on.

you fangirled so hard at that moment, all giddy and smiling at your boyfriend, teasing him about how you were of course his number one fan and that you wanted to have his autograph.

kusumi was sitting across the both of you, and snapped a picture when you were rubbing your cheek against kaji's, him side-eye glancing at your overjoyed, smiling face. kaji is still so fond of you, even if you did silly things like this.

kusumi, beaming from ear to ear, shows the both of you the picture he took, and typed a message on his phone. it read: "you two are so cute, my favorite couple! <3 get a guy that looks at you with so much love the way kaji does! >///< #couplegoals" he adds "i really ship you two!" 

you and kaji read the message on kusumi's notes app. when he finished reading, he let out an exasperated sigh. kaji points at you and kusumi. "i have no idea what a "ship" is, but right now i just want to ship you two off to somewhere far away." 

he was kidding, of course. you knew that he would let you do what you wanted anyway, as long as he could see your lovely smile and how happy he made you, kaji wouldn't ask for nothing more. because plot twist, ren kaji is also your number one fan.

ꕤ bonus ꕤ

once you got home, kaji made sure to let you know his exact thoughts regarding your fanclub.

"tch. you don't need to have my face on your phone, you know. you can have the real thing right here." he leans in closer to you, pulling his lollipop out of his mouth and replacing it with your lips.

the next morning, after waking up from a long and eventful night with kaji, you expressed your shock upon gazing at yourself in the mirror and finding out you've been marked up by little purple bruises and love bites that left some of kaji's teeth marks littering everywhere, but most prominently on your neck, thighs and chest area.

"ren kaji! what the hell is this!" you exclaimed, waking him up with a jolt, you pointing at all the parts he left his marks on. 

he stared at it for a second, admiring his handiwork. "you said you wanted to have my autograph."

"i didn't mean it like this!" you sighed, wondering how in the world you would be able to go out looking like this, all bitten and marked up by kaji. 

"i can always sign it again for you if it fades. i'm all yours, after all." he said it with such a straight but smug face and he was so unapologetic about it that you wanted to smack him. or have him devour you again. or both. 

you can't be the only one showing him your appreciation, because kaji has his ways of showing his too.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[kunajou]

Hi! I loved your nude headcanon? I think that’s what it’s called? Anywayyyssss lol can I request an aftermath of what happened after they saw like when they see the reader again and the jjk means reaction to their reactions? (You can ignore this if you want! No pressure❤️)

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! my first ask ^_^ but yes bestie, I can do that! 💕

THE AFTERMATH

❝synopsis❞ ‣ what happens after they get a glimpse of their friends girlfriend/wife's nudes.

PAIRING(S) › jjk men x fem!reader GENRE(S) › fluff/(little)smut WORD(S) › 2.2k+ WARNING(S) › lot(s) scolding・solo m*sturbating (for suguru & satoru) ・allude to threesome (for suguru)・nanami being a blushing mess (for Gojo's)・yuji apologizes alot・choso doesn't know what to do when he sees you again・unrequited feeling(s)・lot(s) of pining・load(s) of ♡ POST DATE › 07/12/24 NOTE › I didn't do Sukuna's & Megumi's because my brain couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't have been weird but here's everyone else xD › READ PART ONE HERE

❝featuring❞ ‣ nanami kento, gojo satoru, choso kamo, & geto suguru ♡

‣ 𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees Gojo's wife.

"Hey Nanami-san!" Your smile is as bright as ever, running to catch up to the stone faced sorcerer. He can’t help but want to duck and hide. It's not because of you! Definitely not you, well kind of. He can't seem to get that picture of you out of his head. Daydreaming has become a part of his pass time once he lets his mind wonder, noting he shouldn't let himself think of you that way. "Wait!"

He's already late and he knows you're only going to make him later. He should keep walking but there's a soft ping in his heart that stops him dead in his tracks. For a split second until he remembers how Yaga gets when he's kept waiting.

"Keep walking," He mumbles to no one but himself as he tries to walk a little faster but you're quicker. He hadn't realized you caught up to him in record time. Standing to block his path with a soft pout on your face.

"Are you running from me?" You gasp with realization and, God, why are you making this harder for him right now? Why were you so damn cute. What is going on? Nanami tries his hardest not to make eye contact but fails miserably at that too. "What the hell, Nanami? Where are you going?"

“My apologies." He bows, listening to you try to catch your breath as he turns on his heels. "Yaga is expecting me and you know he gets when you're late.”

“Oh! I’ll go with you if you don’t mind. I have to speak with him about something too.” Your grin makes Nanami instantly nod his head, unaware that he was agreeing for you to come with him. It isn't until you begin to tug him along by the arm that he realizes what's going on. Glancing down at you, he gets a little view of the top of your breast and quickly looks ahead once he realizes. “You're red as a tomato today. Are you alright?”

"Y-Yes."

You look at him with nothing but confusion because when has Nanami ever stuttered, especially in your presence.

"You know you can tell me if something is wrong."

"I'm fine. Really." He clears his throat once you shrug. Why is he acting like this? As if you're not a taken woman? As if you're not married to Gojo of all people? He knows someone is playing a trick on him because how are you acting this clueless? He's overheard your conversations before. He’s sure Satoru told you what happened because he literally tells you everything. Even if it's something as little as what he ate that day.

Do you not care? What's going on?

The walk is silent but it's putting Nanami more and more in his head. His heart feels like it's going to beat from his chest the more he stands next to you. It isn't until you approach the steps to the front of the school.

"Did you hear me?" You bring Nanami out of his head with your question as you approach the steps to the front of the school.

"My apologies. I didn't but can I ask you something?" Pink dust across Nanami's cheeks but he can't bring himself to look you in the eyes because have they always been this pretty? “You can-”

“Its okay, Nanami. Whats on your mind?”

“D-Did you know that your husband had an indecent photo of you as his wallpaper on his phone?”

You pause, turning back to see Nanami even redder than before, the tips of his ears now being the same color. The look of horror washes over your face and for a second, he feels horrible about bringing it up. He bites the inside of his cheek and waits for you to gather your thoughts.

What the hell did he mean by that?

“I didn't?” You cock your head to the side and place your hands on your hips , wanting to know more. You're not angry (at least not at Nanami) but you need to figure out what he means. “And would you know that?”

“I, um-” Nanami breathing is harder and you've never seen him like this before.

“Nanami?” You question but realize you may be coming off too strong. "I'm not mad at you. It's not your fault, I ju-"

“I'm so sorry!” He bows at an angle and stays there as you quickly move to have his stand back upright. "I know that's something sacred between couples and I didn't mean to look and well, I did and you looked so pretty. I couldn't look away."

“Whoa. Nanami?”

He continues to ramble on but you're brain is comprehending anything he's saying right now.

“I only saw it because he was showing me something on his phone and closed out the app before moving it out of view. I'm so sorry.”

You soak in the information Nanami is telling, your face red with embarrassment because what did he mean he saw you intimately? Those photos were supposed to be for Satoru’s eyes only not everyone he wanted to show them to.

You turn on your heels and begin marching toward the gymnasium, where you know he is right now.

“Hey! Where are you going??” Nanami eyes widen, running after you to catch up. Your fast when you're angry and believe him, he knows you have every right to be. “Hey. Wait, Wait, Wait!” Nanami stops you with a hand gripping your arm but you only glance down at it before gaining your composure.

"I'm going to kill that idiot."

Honestly, Nanami wouldn't blame you either.

“I understand.” He says before swinging you back toward the main building to head back toward Yaga’s office. “But lets not let the children see, yeah?”

You agree. You wouldn't want to scare them with how angry you are right now.

‣ 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees kento's wife.

Teasing.

Satoru used to tease you like crazy but ever since he caught of glimpse of you like that, it gradually got worse. It was to the point that you had to say something to Kento for him to say something to Satoru.

The thing is, Satoru doesn't know how to express his feelings. Granted, he doesn't know if he should at all because at the end of the day you are Nanami's wife and he has no right to even think of you like that but he can't help it. Kento was beyond lucky to even snag someone as pretty and smart as you. There's was part of him that did have a small crush on you but he never said anything plus that was when you were younger. You started dating Nanami, you were good for him after he lost his best friend so he never mentioned it.

Why would he? Why would he mess up a happy home?

You're Nanami's now and he's come to terms with that. At least, he thought he did. That picture only rekindled whatever feelings he had and now, you're running through his mind twent four/seven.

He can only dream of being with you. Something he's being doing recently when he's home alone, hand wrapped around his cock where your name can spill freely from his lips. He knows he's wrong. He knows he shouldn't be thinking of you like this but that picture continues to float around in his head even as he sees you standing there talking to your students. He sighs, checking his phone before realizing he has to get back to his own class until he hears someone call his name. He freezes in his tracks at the authoritative nature of Nanami's voice. He knows there's something he needs to talk to him about but he's been dodging him like crazy.

"Nanamin! Hi! I was just-"

"No." Nanami grabs Satoru by the arm and drags him somewhere into the building as you watch on. You and Satoru lock eyes but you quickly look away to listen to what Itadori and Megumi were saying.

Satoru defeatedly follows Nanami into one of the classrooms (as if he has a choice) and finds a seat on one of the desk. Closing the door, Nanami watches as the look on his face lets Satoru knows he's not in the mood for any of his bull shit today.

"Explain."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Satoru shrugs, letting his legs fall to dangle along the side of the desk. Nanami clicks his tongue before taking strides to stand in front of Satoru. His hand fisting his shirt as he draw him closer.

"I don't know what you're doing but you're being a nuisance to my wife."

"It's just a little bit of teasing!" Satoru smiles, "Take a chill pill."

"No." He pushes him back and frowns. "I'm being serious, Gojo. She doesn't like it and quite frankly, I don't either. I know all this is because of that picture you saw but that's all you'll ever see. It was a mistake, one I regret but don't get any ideas in that thick head of yours. Let it go, please."

Satoru clears his throat as he hops down of the desk. Both men stare each other down before Satoru gives way with a small nod.

"Glad you think that low of me." Satoru lips press into a tight smile but it definitely doesn't reach his ears. His shoulders drop as he turns away before mumbling. "But I Understand."

He watches Nanami turn to leave, no doubt going to find you and he can't but feel guilty with a hint of jealousy. All he wanted to do was express his feelings about the situation to you. He didn't know if Nanami had talked to you about it yet. He wanted to come clean but every time he was close to you, the picture would pop into his head and his mind always went to his coping mechanism.

Teasing.

Does he hate that he never learned how to express how he's feeling? Of course but the next time he sees you. He's going to try.

Even if Nanami doesn't like it.

‣ 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend.

You came over for your annual movie night but the atmosphere has been anything but friendly. You've been trying to talk to Choso but he's been more closed off than usual. Giving your short answers or not answering you at all. Side-eyeing you when you're near him or when you reach for him, he moves away like you've scorched his skin.

Yuji can see the small pout that starting to form, glancing at his brother who is sitting further away than usual. Usual he's sitting by the both of you on the floor or right next to you. Not on the other side of the couch. He feels horrible because he hasn't told you why Choso is acting the way that he is. You're so sweet and caring, he knows you'll be a little understanding.

At least he hopes.

So when you pull him to the kitchen to question him, he knows it's time to come clean. No matter how you take it.

"Yuji? Did something happen with Choso?"

"Hm?" His heart shouldn't be hammering against his chest like this but it wasn't his fault! Choso was simply doing something on his phone the moment you texted him.

"What's wrong with Choso?"

"Um..." Yuji glances at his brother again who hasn't said a word since you dragged Yuji to the kitchen. "Oh, um, that's what I wanted to talk to you about..." Yuji says, a little nervous because he doesn't know what you're going to say.

"What's going on?"

"So..." Yuji clears his throat before glancing back through the door to where his brother is still curled on the sofa. "He, um- shit-"

"Just spit it out, Yuji."

"Hemayhaveseenthatpictureyousentme..."

Your brows nit together as you try to recall what picture he may have been talking about until you see the expression on Yuji's face express how horrified he is when you realize what he's talking about.

"What?!"

"Before you get mad! Hear me out-"

"Yuji, I swear to god!"

"Hold on!" He holds his hands up to surrender as he pouts. "In my defense, he was using my phone to figure out the login for our Netflix because I couldn't remember! Plus Todo was here to help train and I'm so sorry, baby it won't happen again."

You sigh before glancing back toward Choso who's been peaking over the back of the couch at the both of you. He quickly turns away when he realizes you're looking in his direction.

"Should I go talk to him?"

"I wouldn't. Not right now, at least." Yuji holds his hand out for you to take and chuckles as you roll your eyes at him. "Baby. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." You lean into his shoulder before kissing his cheek. "Just please warn me next time. I don't want to traumatize your brother."

You both laugh but now you're worried Choso won't be able to look at you the same again. You make a mental note to talk to him when he finally comes around.

‣ 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's girlfriend.

'Have you thought about it?'

His friend question bounces around in his head as he lays there and stares at the ceiling. He wants to give him an answer but he always wants to know how you feel about the situation. Did you object to it? Was this your idea as well?

Suguru groans, rolling over to lay on his side as he stares at his phone now. Contemplating if he wants to call his best friend or not. He has your number too but he thinks it would be highly inappropriate to call or text you at this hour. Especially when he realizes it’s one in the morning. He knows he needs sleep. He has to teach today but its kind of hard to do when your photo is constantly flashing in his mind.

‘My pretty girl,’ He remembers Satoru’s praise for you as he tries to ignore the feeling stirring in his gut like he does when he’s near you. ‘Taking my cock so generously, aren't you baby?’

He throws his arm over his eyes to shield them from the little moonlight that's casting in his room. There's a part of him that wishes he spoke to you first that day. Who knows? It probably would be the other way around but its not and that's something he has to deal with.

Wait. What is he even saying?

Suguru grabs his phone from the table and opens up his message to Satoru’s thread. He stares at the last message his best friend sent him, asking about coming over for dinner in a couple of days. Suguru hasn't responded yet. He didn't know if he would honestly. He's unsure how he was going to handle being in your presence after seeing you more intimately. He can deal with pining over the persona he's created of you but actually seeing you like that is doing something to his psyche.

Before he knows it, he's harder than he's ever been. He's seen how well you take Satoru. He knows you'll be able to take his too and the more he thinks about the more he wants to see. His hand slides down his stomach but he hesitates. He shouldn't be masturbating to the thought of his best friend's girl but... You're so fucking sexy and that damn piercing...

He wants to do things to you he shouldn't want to do.

His eyes are barred closed and before he knows it, his hand is wrapped around his cock. He moves his hand faster and brings his other hand to his nipple to play with as the image of you bouncing on his cock fills his mind. He knows you’ll be so wet and tastes so sweet. He can recall hearing how wet you were through video and it makes him wanna hear it in person. He squeezes the base of his cock like he knows your pussy will milk him and for the love of god, he knows its going to feel so fucking good. He's wanted it for far too long.

It will be a blessing for him if it was to actually happen.

“Fucking hell,” He moans, he licks his hand and goes back to work. Digging his heels into the bed the closer he gets to cumming. He manifests your moans in his ears, your pussy wrapped around him and after a couple more strokes, he shoots his load all over his stomach and chest.

Some even making it onto his face and hair.

Suguru eyes remain close because he knows the moment they open, everything will disappear and he doesn't want that.

He want to live in his delusions at the moment as he can see you sitting on top of him. He looks past you to see Satoru sitting in a chair across from the bed but the moment he does open his eyes, he sees no one.

Suguru groans, the weight of everything he'd just done comes crashing down as he grabs his phone to type his message.

What's the worse that could happen?

[01:23am] Satoru: we’ll see you there.

© KUNAJOU 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARISE -and/or- TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK. thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s)/like(s) are totally welcomed!

[strawberries-and-racing]

i wanna be yours - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

requests that came together and inspired this series:

• nsfw prompts 9-13 (in pt. 2)

• 'listen up. Obsessive possessive crazy max for sweet innocent reader smut.'

• 'ok so we need dark FICS of any driver of your choice but make him very obsessive and possessive and don't forget the smut. Keep it up girlllll!!!'

summary: a lot of tension building between possessive max and sweet y/n.

warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, slightly crazy max, some cliches (im sorry!) also the title is based off the arctic monkeys song because i felt like the vibes matched also i love arctic monkeys💕

a/n: screaming once again!!! this is the first fluff ive posted and it's part 1/2. the next part has the smut as promised but i wanted to take my time and build this up please enjoy🙏

the flight to the UK was long, but well worth it. two months ago you'd been offered an unbelievable opportunity.

an opportunity you'd been dreaming of for years, one you'd spent what felt like an eternity working towards— an engineering internship. not just any internship, one with the red bull formula one team.

you'd be able to travel with the team, shadow the engineers, help with various tasks around the paddock, and design parts at hq. an absolute dream.

after scouring a thousand real estate websites, you'd finally found the perfect place for to live.

a little 1 bed 1 bath apartment, tucked into a beautiful, quaint little neighbourhood. just 30 mins to the red bull hq.

you'd dedicated many late nights and ikea shopping trips to making the apartment your own. your comfortable escape from the grueling hours of studying and pressures of the internship.

you led a busy life, but it never bothered you. you adored what you did and formula one had been your passion since you were a little girl.

and now everything was falling into place. in fact, tommorrow you'd leave to attend your first race with the team. austria. red bulls home race.

you were ecstatic to say the least.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you hurriedly made your way through the paddock and into the red bull garage. your eyes glued to the schedule on top of the pile of papers in your arms.

you were on your way to assist one of the senior engineers in preparation before the race began.

you were nervous, and it was no help that you weren't exactly sure where you were supposed to be meeting him.

suddenly, you stumble over your own feet and bump into someone.

you feel hands on your shoulders, their grasp firm, steadying you.

you look up and are taken aback by the pair of strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. his eyes were the kind of crystal blue that would capture anyones attention. but despite their bright colour, they had a sort of inexplicable depth, darkness to them.

there was something in his expression that you couldn't quite read. something stirring beneath the surface of his icy gaze. it was as though he wasn't just looking at you, but into you.

you abruptly become aware of his hands, still on your shoulders. you're so oddly aware of them, as if it's your first time being touched by anyone.

he holds you firmly, as if trying to hold you together. the moment seemed to last forever. the two of you frozen in time.

a stranger's eye contact and touch shouldn't be affecting you in this way.

"you okay?"

it's only once he speaks that you realize who the man standing in front of you is.

your eyes widen, cheeks flushing. you straighten up quickly, mouth slightly agape.

"oh'" you start, at a loss for words "yeah, im sorry." you manage a small smile.

you straighten up an take a step backwards, pulling away from his grasp. you miss the warmth of his hands more than you'd ever like to admit.

"it's okay, no worries," his eyes linger on you a moment longer before you both go your separate ways.

as you walk away, you cant help but glance back at him.

max verstappen.

you'd certainly heard him speak before on tv, but something about his accent in person was enchanting. his energy seemed to linger on you like perfume.

everything about him caught your attention, long before you'd bumped into him in person.

you'd seen his dominance on track, it was impossible not to notice. he could control the car like no other driver, handling each corner perfectly. he pushed the car to the limit every race and it payed off.

it wasn't just his driving you noticed. his persona. it was everything. and you couldn't ignore the fact that it was sexy.

his short temper, his tendency to snap easily.

it was unreasonably and indescribably attractive.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the next time you see him he's across the room. you're studying the notes that the senior engineer gave you, papers and writing utensils spread across the table in front of you.

he was discussing something with his race engineer, he certainly wasn't doing anything that was particularly interesting or peculiar, he wasn't even looking in your direction. but for fucks sake you were distracted. you were somehow absorbed by his prescence.

ever since bumping into him you couldn't seem to get him out of your head. last night you'd replayed the memory over and over in your mind, finding it more difficult than usual to fall asleep.

all day, you'd silently prayed you would bump into eachother again. your relentless efforts to push your thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind were useless.

the mere idea of him was addictive, so alluring. he was drug-like to you and impossible to ignore.

although it was unknown to you at the time, max had found himself similarly hooked on you. or rather, the thought of you. even though he found enough strength to avoid looking at you, he was well aware of you. sitting at the table in the furthest corner. he was even more aware of the fact that your eyes kept flickering in his direction.

your energy was unlike anything he had ever known. you walked around with an aura of pure innocence. yet you seemed untouchable.

your smile shone. your laugh was contagious. you radiated sunshine. max had come to know these things about you.

you were magnetic in such a way that made him curious.

it stirred something inexplicable inside him. like you were another thing for him to win, to claim. another thing for him to dominant. to corrupt.

your innocence was tangible. and max wanted to be the one to wreck you. it was all he thought about.

ruining you.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the light in your apartment was soft. that's how you preferred it.

you relished your alone time. your small apartment was tailored exactly to you. it was always where you felt perfectly safe and at ease.

light from the sunset was just beginning to spill through your windows. you're stirring a big pot of soup on the stove with lazy motions.

a buzz from your phone catches your attention, the screen lights up and you see a new message. it's from andrew, one of the young engineers at red bull who you'd grown close with over the past few months.

your eyes widen upon reading the message.

a dinner with drivers? you couldn't deny that it sounded exciting.

but then again, you were already in your pajamas and the soup was beginning to steam.

you suck in a breath.

fuck.

the three letters of his name were more than enough to change your answer.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you spent half your time getting ready frantically choosing an outfit.

finally, you'd settled on your favorite black dress. your hair fell over your shoulders in soft curls left over from the day before.

now, you were standing outside the restaurant. you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

you walk in and the hostess greets you with a friendly smile. you're led to a booth connected to a big table that's only half full.

andrew waves you over and you take a seat next to him in the booth. lando sits across from you.

youd never spoken with lando outside of strictly professional context and you were pleasantly surprised by his charming humor. you're engrossed in the conversation with the two boys as the rest of the group fills the table. you look up to greet the others.

your breath hitches when you see him. his eyes stare into yours with the same intensity as they had two days ago. you don't break the eye contact until he sits down and a dark haired boy you've never seen before calls his name.

despite the abrupt rush of blood to your head, you manage to hold up the conversation with lando.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

max couldn't keep his eyes off you for long, and the longer he watched the tighter his grip got on his glass, until his knuckles turned white. he was so focused on you laughing and smiling with lando that he didn't pick up on the way you fidgeted with your ring. a nervous tell.

max clenched his jaw as you leaned in close to something lando said. far closer than what many would deem an action between two casual friends. your giggles and blushing and landos knowing smirk and your hand jokingly smacking his arm made max see red.

"you alright, mate?"

"im fine."

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

as the night goes on and the chatter and laughter get louder, people begin shuffling around, moving to talk with new people.

lando is called over to a different group of friends and andrew leaves with him, leaving you alone in the booth.

"having fun?"

you recognize his voice immediately, sense his burning presence as he slides into the booth, sitting next to you.

"yeah." you manage a smile. "the food was really good."

"that's good." he says, briefly glancing away. your eyes involuntarily trace over the tendons of his neck.

he was wearing a dark button down, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. simple, but ridiculously sexy.

he turns his eyes back onto you. "i didn't know you were gonna be here."

"oh i—" you hesitate for a second, his eyes making your heart skip a beat.

"andrew invited me." you explained, turning slightly so you could face him.

"mm, so are you..." he gestures between you and andrew a few seats down, you know what hes asking.

"oh no, we're just friends." you toy with the edge of your napkin.

it was a bold topic to bring up during a first conversation to say the least, but it didn't feel weird. there wasn't the usual tension, usual coldness that typically came with talking to someone for the first time. it was comfortable, you were able to relax a little.

"hm." is all max answers with. he spreads his legs slightly and pushes his hips forwards, getting comfortable. his leg brushing against yours.

the casual action had your heart thrumming in your ears, beating so loudly you're worried he can hear it.

you swallow, having to glance away. you feel your cheeks turning red.

why max verstappen had such an intense effect on you was still a mystery.

"so um—" you start, trying to make some small talk that would distract you from his arm that now rested on the ledge behind you. you take a breath, composing yourself before speaking. "how often do you guys do this kind of thing?"

he shifted again, his leg touching yours, but he doesn't pull it away this time. the knot of nerves in your stomach tightened. you felt your face turn even redder. the physical contact made your body ache for more.

max smirked, his ego swelling as he saw the effect he had on you.

"once in a while, usually after a race." 

you nod, biting your lip.

"congratulations by the way." you say, it wasn't surprising he'd taken first yet again, but you said it anyways. you prayed he wasn't able to pick up on the way your words came out slightly shaky.

you wanted to do nothing more than relax into him, but with the way he was looking at you that proved to be impossible.

you took a sip of your wine, desperate to cool down as an unexpected surge of heat washed over you which lingered between your legs.

max was different than anyone you'd ever talked too before. he reminded you of nobody. his sense of humor was unique and hilarious.

as the conversation continued you grew immensely fond of the dutchman sitting beside you. although you were absorbed in the stories from his childhood he told you, you remained acutely aware of how close the two of you were now sitting.

max's night couldn't have been unfolding more perfectly. your body language made your thoughts and feelings painfully obvious.

he picked up on the way you blushed immensely at any slight touch from him. the way your pupils dilated as you stared at him. the goosebumps that spread across your chest when he complimented your dress.

but the loudness of the restaurant was a little too much for him. there were too many people here. he craved something more intimate, more private.

"do you wanna get out of here?"

you're caught off guard by his words.

the question was so cliche, yet coming from his mouth it made your heart throb.

"there's a beautiful view not too far from here," he continued, "we could walk?"

his voice was like velvet and he leaned in close, speaking in a low tone as if he didnt want anyone to hear except you.

by now, you're practically having heart palpitations. the pit in your stomach gapes wider.

it was already hard enough for you to keep your sanity intact with him while surrounded by other people. you honestly aren't sure if you could handle being out alone with him.

you nod slowly your head spinning, breathe quickening.

"oh, yeah i'd love that." your voice was unsteadt, yet enthusiastic.

without another word he starts getting up, but before he slips out of the booth he gently touches your leg with his hand, as if reassuring you.

his fingers may as well have been made of hot metal, his touch affected your entire body, his fingerprints burned into your skin.

you felt like a little kid with a crush as you gingerly got up and followed max out of the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach and in your mind.

you don't notice all the eyes on you two as you leave the restaurant, too caught up in the giddiness you were feeling. your own eyes too focused on max in front of you, more specifically on his back which looked so good in that damn shirt.

max, on the other hand, was well aware of all the eyes on him. he fought to keep his cocky grin at bay. there were at least 20 other people there, and out of everyone, you were leaving with him.

he opens the door and lets you by first.

"thank you," you say, the night air cooling your overheated body.

"of course."

amongst the ever present—extremely active— butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, you felt a twinge of genuine nervousness.

you realize that you had just left a restaurant, alone at night, with a guy you technically barely knew. was this safe?

it certainly felt safe. max felt nothing like a stranger.

your nervousness melted away once max fell into step beside you. you looked up at him, at those intense blue eyes.

you were walking so close your arms touched. you had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but of course you didn't.

so there you were, walking alongside max verstappen into the dark night, to see the promised beautiful view.

you'd only walked two blocks before max carefully took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours.

please let me know if you want to be tagged for pt.2 (this might end up being three parts)❤

[danieyells]

care to spoil any interesting dialogue Haku has when you reach higher affinity levels? Would love to know!

Haku's so. . .normal, it's kinda cute? Lol. But yeah I'm pretty down for that! I wanted to share one of these things but held my tongue lolol but since you're asking here're some of the ones that were more interesting or otherwise appealing to me!

I've amended this post to be all of Haku's home screen lines. Enjoy!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Oh, finally here, huh? I'm not really ready for you yet though... Ha ha. Wait over there for me, would you?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Oh, looks like you've got a letter. If you don't open it soon, I might sneak a peek."

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"How's the search for clues about your curse going? Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If you ever want to talk, I'm happy to listen."

"Most people in Hotarubi have something they put their heart and soul into. That doesn't really work for me though. I lose interest in things way too easily."

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me you've gotten yourself mixed up in something again."

this is a very funny one to have him say when i use the sinostra casino as my home screen bg

"Haha. Don't expect too much from me. Ghouls are just glorified street magicians, really. Let's keep it light, huh?"

'glorified street magicians' is a hell of a way to describe. . .a lot of the stigmas we've got going here lmao

"Boo! Ha ha, didn't think you'd get that scared. I was just getting rid of the shadow imp that was sticking to your back... I'm kidding! There was nothing there, I promise."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...So, how about we take a walk? This dorm's seen better days, so it's tough work checking all the places that need repairs."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You've adjusted to life at Darkwick pretty well, haven't you? Not that anomalies and missions are something you'd want to get used to..."

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Today doesn't really work for me... I'm going to be getting back to the dorm pretty late, so can we do tomorrow instead?"

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"...Hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's something untoward lingering behind you. Don't look! Hah, I was just kidding. It was just a little dust, see?"

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Twilight has been a lot quieter than usual today... I hope that's not a bad sign."

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Subaru's just too nice. Keeping all the eccentrics in Hotarubi in check's gotta be rough."

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Everyone here comes from different backgrounds and has different gifts. There's no reason you should feel out of place."

'we're all unique, including the most ordinary among us.' good lesson!

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Looks we're going to make it through today without any disasters. At least I hope so."

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't walk around at night with your guard down. Don't come crying to me if you get possessed by a fox spirit, you hear?"

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Your parents ever tell you ghosts would get you if you don't go to bed? For some reason Zenji's the only one who gets spooked when I say that..."

after the reveal that zenji is a ghost this is so funny actually I LOVE THAT ZENJI IS A GHOST WHO'S AFRAID OF GHOSTS AND THE DARK.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"All these geniuses and their lectures are giving me heartburn. Wouldn't mind hearing the woes of someone long-suffering instead every once in a while."

(this sounds cruel but from what i can tell in Japanese he says he'd rather hear stories about hard workers/people who struggled from the bottom than prodigies. Basically he's more interested in, y'know, ordinary folks than people who're really special.)

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"That video I took of Zenji today? I'm just going to do some quick editing and post it. I don't know why he doesn't just focus on content that's more his style..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I saw Tohma a little while ago. Been a while since we last had a real chat. Sounds like he's got his hands full, as always."

so i initially left this one out of this post because i didn't think much of it but. . .the way Haku regards Tohma is so much more casual than Tohma regards Haku in retrospect, it seems. To Haku, Tohma's just the usual hard worker. Someone he'd actually enjoy having a conversation with. But Tohma speaks to Haku almost as if with suspicion or disdain. . .then again he speaks kind of coldly to Jin too. Maybe that's just how he is with people he kind of knows or views as more on his level. Or it's something more sinister. Who knows.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mornin'. You've got a sleep mark on your face. Yeah, right there. Good to know you got a good night's rest."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You haven't collected all the papers that were supposed to be submitted by today's deadline yet? Who are you waiting on? Got it. I'll go get them for you."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mean to scare you, but... be careful with your right leg. Especially when you're in the main building."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Getting cold feet when you try to jump into the deep end is just proof you're a normal human being. We're the crazy ones."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Can't sleep? In that case, let's go for a little walk. There's actually something I want to talk to you about."

pretty high affinity to be having chats on night walks. . .i wonder what he wanted to talk about.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Just having someone you care about at your side is all you really need... Ha ha. That was a little out of character, huh? My bad."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, you're awake. I was just about to make some tea to wake myself up. Want some?"

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"It's not very often I get to kick back like this in the middle of the day. Maybe I'll take a nap."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"None of us wanted to become like this. Living an ordinary life, and dying an ordinary death— why go after more than that?"

He just wants to be normal. And he can't. It's kinda tragic lol

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"(Yawn) Oh, didn't see you there. Haha... Guess I've been letting my sleep debt build up. I'm going to bed."

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Being cursed really sucks, huh? You can't help but ask yourself, "Why me?" all the time, even when you know it's a question with no answer."

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I know I'm being selfish— but sometimes, I wish you'd just forget about me..."

WHY. . .ARE YOU THE SUS ONE AND YOU FEEL BAD THAT YOU'LL BETRAY THEM? DO YOU JUST FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TOO LUCKY HAVING HAD FALLEN FOR SOMEONE NORMAL WHEN YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT NORMAL ANYMORE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE THE PC DESERVES SOMEONE NORMAL AND TO BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO A NORMAL LIFE BUT BEING WITH YOU GUARANTEES THEY WON'T? WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO FORGET YOU. . .he's so interesting to me simply because of how much he tries to keep himself apart from his being a ghoul(and, y'know, seeing spirits and shit--) so he can try and just be any other guy. . .and he can't lol his surroundings, who and what he is, he can't go back to being normal! It's a charming way to have a boy next door sort of personality i think lol

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"I've been noticing more birds in the garden lately. Is that a bush warbler? A white-eye, maybe? A lot going on during spring in Hotarubi."

Boy knows his birbs.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Heading into another nice, warm afternoon. Maybe I should take a nap...? Oops, nearly forgot I promised Zenji I'd film him."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Must be nice being a ghost—no hayfever, and no hangovers. Spring really is the embodiment of human weakness."

How drunk did you get last night buddy. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"My family home is pretty famous in our area for its cherry blossoms... When I was a kid, my friends and I used to go exploring through them at night."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"It's so humid... Days like this make me miss Frostheim..."

He's former Frostheim! Maybe that's why he and Tohma seem to have some history. There's also Jin's friend who left that Tohma helped to switch houses. . .but Haku was a second year then so would he have needed it?

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I've got to go round and check the stalls for the festival Hotarubi is holding— wouldn't want any dangerous charlatans sneaking their way in."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Zenji's off roaming around somewhere again... People are more sensitive this time year, so I wish he'd just stay put..."

AGAIN, BEFORE WE LEARNED HE WAS A GHOST I READ THIS AND THOUGHT PEOPLE HE MEANT LIKE. . .SENSITIVE EMOTIONALLY TO NOISE AND ZENJI'S BIWA PLAYING. I DID NOT REALIZE THAT HE WAS WORRIED PEOPLE WOULD REALIZE ZENJI WAS THERE.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're not going to wear a yukata? Eh, I just thought it'd be cute to see. That's the kind of thing guys think about, don't know what else to tell you."

It reads like he's a little disappointed the girl he's into friends with isn't gonna wear something he thinks is cute lol

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They say fall is the season of the arts, but I'm a really mediocre flute player. I'm about as uncultured as you can get."

funny thing for an ex-frostheimer to say.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"You can hear the biwa, right? He's been going for three hours now. People are going to start getting pissed off, so I'll go tell him to stop soon."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Nightfall can catch you unaware this time of year. It'll be dark soon, so let me know when you're planning to head home. I'll walk you back to the cathedral."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"It's a stunner of a night. Maybe I'll grab a drink and do a little moon gazing."

don't drink too much you're trying to quit smoking, the solution isn't to replace it with another addiction--

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You'll catch a cold dressed like that. It's already pretty chilly out there, you know... Here, take my coat."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Winter rain really chills you to the bone. Sorry, walking through the garden must be rough for you this time of year. Come a little closer."

I'm a bit of a sucker for huddling together in the cold lol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold again today. Now that I think of it, Subaru said he wanted to make hotpot with everyone. Guess I'll go grab some things and make it happen."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Your hands hurt because of the cold? Let me see. Oh yeah, your fingertips are all red. Here, stick them in my pockets."

Is that your flute in your pocket or are you completely unaffected by the cold

His birthday: (July 26th)

"Wait, you got me a birthday present? You're so conscientious. Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Hey, come over here a sec. Here. It's nothing special, but I got you a something. Today's your birthday, right?"

why is this worded like he's asking you to come into a shady alley in secret to give you a birthday gift lmao

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I know it's a cliché, but I hope this year's a good one for you."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Whoa, chocolate? I didn't think you'd give them to me too. Guess I better think of something good to get you in return."

White Day: (March 13th)

"Here, for the chocolate you got me last month. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got the ones I remember you said were good."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"A bunch of spirits have been following you around all day, are you okay? Psych, just kidding. Seriously, I was joking, I swear."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Looks like you've had your fair share of tricks today. I'll narrow down your options and just make it a treat, then."

Christmas: (December 25th)

"You look like you're having fun. Do you have a present for me, Little Miss Santa? Haha, I'm just kidding. Here you go. Merry Christmas."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Hey, you alive? Not much point me just standing here waiting around. Guess I'll take off."

(13 affinity and above)

"I know I look like a slacker, but I do have stuff to do. Guess I'll nap till she gets back."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Hey there, stranger. Everyone's missed you, you know. ...Even I was starting to get a little worried."

Those're the ones that're most interesting to me I think! 'u' there are some that aren't up there though, like some of the ones that show him being responsible and worrying about his teammates haha. Hope you don't mind my little commentary here and there!

A while later and I've amended this post to include all of the home screen voicelines, not just the ones that appealed to me most in that moment! Haku's interesting in how. . .normal he is. Aside from the seeing spirits and things anyway lmao. He's just a casual flirt who wants to escape the abnormality that his becoming a ghoul got him. I feel like his lines don't really reveal anything about him. . .but also 19 in particular feels. . .a little lonely? Maybe because of how he had to leave Frostheim, he doesn't really feel as connected to the Hotarubi ghouls yet, compared to how he was with Jin before? Or, if he is the spy, he feels like all of his relationships are fake. . .and man that 'I wish you'd just forget about me' line is sad but also SO SUSPICIOUS. WHO SAYS THAT IF THEY DON'T PLAN ON LEAVING YOU OR STABBING YOU IN THE BACK.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless

potential Snape x professor!reader fic?

Shameless Masterpost

so, this was just a thing i typed up late last night because late night snape cravings hit and i honestly just wanted to write something. it's not perfect, of course, but where else to post it but on this beloved, yet cursed site?! <3

i have a few parts typed up so if people enjoy it, i'll post the other ones. just a heads up, i'm not entirely following the book/movie, sort of just making it up as i go.. so please, do not come for me, it's just a self-indulgent fic at this point. :,) considering i have not really proofread this properly, forgive me for any mistakes lmao

also, i've made the reader a hufflepuff because i am one, and so it's easier for me to write .. also cos i feel like i suck at writing as other houses lmfao

anyway.. here we gooooo..

"You look lost in thought, my dear," Professor McGonagall turned to you, tilting her head in a concerned fashion. You wet your lips and turned to face your older colleague and blinked - a pathetic attempt at trying to ground yourself. She'd caught you daydreaming again. "Everything alright?" She questioned quietly, a kind smile picking at the corners of her lips.

You tore your gaze away from the subject of your attention and looked to the Gryffindor Head of House, who was seated to your right. 

"Oh," Clearing your throat awkwardly, you nodded at her. She didn't look too convinced. "Just a long day, I suppose." You lied and glanced down at your hands that were clasped together in your lap; fingers fidgeting nervously like you'd just been caught doing something you shouldn't.

McGonagall didn't look satisfied nor happy with your answer, but she didn't want to press you - that wasn't her business. The older witch was respectful in that way, and for that you were grateful. You offered her a small smile in return to reassure her.

The older woman raised her brows in a disbelieving manner, her twinkling eyes studying your blank face as if trying to decipher what on Earth was bothering you. It felt like you were back in school at Hogwarts all over again, in trouble for breaking the rules or something similar. But you weren't, you were a fellow professor at Hogwarts now, in fact, you were the new teacher for Herbology. Professor Sprout had retired last year and Dumbledore had offered you her position, his memory still serving him well as he remembered you'd always had a thirst and passion for the fauna and flora side of magic. Before that, you were teaching Astronomy.

Currently, you were sat in the Great Hall with the other professors, waiting for Dumbledore to do his usual announcement at the beginning of a new year.

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Y/N." McGonagall gave you a sad look, placing a comforting hand on your fidgeting ones. She stilled your anxious movements and you sighed deeply. Out of all the professors at Hogwarts, you got along the best with the older witch, she had always looked out for you back in school and now. You'd probably say that Sprout was your next closest colleague considering you shared an intense interest for Herbology, so you were sad to see her go.

You didn't say anything in response to Professor McGonagall, you only sucked in your bottom lip and chewed on it for a brief moment before Dumbledore's familiar voice rang out through the Great Hall.

"Good evening, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts," He began, stepping up to the golden owl lecturn, his arms flailing about dramatically. "Now, I'd like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I'm pleased to announce that Professor Y/N L/N will be taking over the mantle of Herbology, as Professor Sprout chose to retire at the end of last year. I am very confident that she will be a great successor to our previous Herbology professor." Dumbledore announced, turning to give you a warm smile. You stood up and smiled and waved sheepishly as the students and other fellow professors gave you a round of applause, all of them giving you kind and encouraging smiles.

As your eyes flicked round the table of your fellow professors, you got caught in the gaze of none other than Professor Severus Snape. You sucked in a quiet breath, feeling your body go rigid under his cold gaze. After that, you quickly seated yourself, focusing your attention back onto Dumbledore. Over the past year, you'd unfortunately grown a slight affection for the broody man. You weren't sure why, considering how short and cruel he'd always been with you, but maybe that's what did it. A masochist at heart, perhaps? Surely, that was unlikely for a Hufflepuff like you.

McGonagall noticed the tension, and she immediately leaned towards you, glancing at Snape. "Don't worry yourself about Severus." She hummed to you, offering an encouraging smile. Your fingers rushed up to massage your temples.

"I'll try not to, but I'm probably going to come into contact with him more often now, no? Since he will probably come looking for potion ingredients from my classroom?" You groaned, braving another glance at the raven-haired Potions Master. You felt your cheeks betray you, a light shade of pink tinting them as he met your eyes once more. You quickly looked away. If you were going to keep this under wraps, you were going to need to train yourself not to blush at such small things.

"Well, yes," McGonagall said hesitantly. "But I'm sure he will look to come knocking when you aren't there. He's not the most... socially adept man." She pursed her lips momentarily and you met her gaze, scoffing quietly. She let loose an amused chuckle at your reaction. "You know that, of course." McGonagall added, leaning back into her seat. You hummed in agreement.

"Next on the agenda, I would also like to welcome Gilderoy Lockhart as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore's booming voice tore you from your thoughts, and the name he mentioned caught your attention. Gilderoy Lockhart? Wasn't he a famous author?

You looked up curiously, trying to spot him in the crowd of teachers. There he was, standing proudly with a million-dollar grin plastered on his too-perfect-looking face. God, what an ass, you thought to yourself. He wasn't bad looking, but he just seemed to think everyone was there for him. Obviously.

"He's not going to last until the end of the year, surely." You commented, trying to hide the amused grin that was desperate to make an appearance on your face. Suddenly, Lockhart looked over to you, as if he sensed you were talking about him. You quickly wiped off the grin on your face and politely smiled at him, praying he didn't see your previous expression. It didn't seem like he did, as he just winked at you instead, making you cringe inwardly.

You had to refrain yourself from letting your head hit the table out of embarrassment. Gods, how many people just saw that awkward encounter? Surely the whole bloody school considering the man was still stood up. You slowly sink into your chair, wishing it would swallow you up.

The next day soon came, and you were up early in the morning, ensuring that the greenhouse-classroom was set up perfectly for your first class of second-years. You'd thought it would be fun to start off the year with an interesting and easy, practical lesson. So you chose to teach your students about the Devil's Snare - a dangerous plant that can kill if you did get tangled in it unless you kept calm and relaxed within it's deadly grasp. You were aware that Professor Sprout had gone over this last year with them, but you wanted to remind them of the dangers that this plant possesses. You potted some of the plant into small containers and spread them out over the long table, placing a small warning sign in front of it to ward off some of the more.. courageous students. Particularly Slytherin ones - you weren't discriminating against them, however in your experience they were usually the troublemakers.

"Professor L/N," A familiar, deep voice came from behind you, almost making you jump out of your skin from how deep in thought you were. Spinning around on your heel, the skirt of your dress twirled with you.

"Professor Snape, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You smiled politely at the dark-haired wizard, clasping your hands in front of you to show some sort of composure and confidence. Despite this, you could still feel your cheeks heating up as Snape prowled towards you slowly, his face still cool as stone.

"An unusual job change from being the Astronomy teacher to the Herbology teacher." He commented, glancing over your new classroom with a frown. The Potions Master stopped just short of a metre in front of you. Snape's cloak engulfed him, and you were reminded of the times you and your friends had nicknamed him the Bat of the Dungeons back in school. He truly did embody the look of a bat perfectly, making you wonder if he had based his robes off of one.

"If you remember correctly, I had a passion for both subjects." You replied nonchalantly, though slightly curious to see why he had paid you a visit. Snape hummed disapprovingly at your reply. Clearly, the man didn't approve of any student that excelled in any other subject than Potions.

"What can I help you with, Snape?" You turned back to adjusting the pots of Devil's Snare on the long table, retrieving your wand from your robes and casting a charm to create a dark rain cloud to sit atop of the plants to ensure they were comfortable. Snape watched you, clearly intrigued.

"I need some asphodel roots, if you will." Snape stated, making you turn to look at him with a cocked brow. He continued to stare down at you with a disdainful expression on his pale face, making you want to curl into a ball. "A student of mine neglected the task of retrieving some." He added with that look of disappointment still on his face. Snape's tone was harsh, and you could tell he was pissed off, this task was below him. Obviously.

You let an amused huff slip out of your nose, a smile picking at the corner of your lips as you just imagined the bollocking he gave that student for forgetting something so important, especially in his class. He instantly cast an angry glare at you, and you wiped the smile off of your face almost immediately. The man might not be your professor anymore, but he still scares the shit out of you for sure and you weren't willing to take your chances today.

"Ah," You nodded softly, avoiding his stony eyes. You cleared your throat and padded over to your row of plants, looking underneath the wooden fixture for the jar of asphodel roots you kept. "Brewing Draught of Living Death?" You questioned awkwardly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that enveloped you and Snape. A curt sigh left his lips at your pathetic attempt at making small talk.

"I'm astonished you know what I require it for, Professor L/N, considering you were rather... academically inept in your potion classes." Professor Snape said coldly, making your jaw clench. It was no secret, you were shit at potions, and Snape always made sure you were aware of it when you were in school. Again, why were you crushing on this cruel man? The word 'masochist' came to mind again. Nonetheless, why were you even helping him? He clearly has no respect for you.

As you continued digging through your storage unit, you finally spotted the jar of asphodel root behind some empty, dusty jars. You retrieved it quickly, suddenly wanting Snape to leave as quickly as possible. After his cruel comment you weren't exactly inclined to keep his company.

As Snape held out his hand demandingly to take the jar from your grasp, you whipped it away with a fierce frown on your face. You may be a shy, little Hufflepuff, but you did not like it when people spoke rudely to you.

"You know, it helps a lot when you have a teacher you like." You said to Snape, holding his cold gaze. It's true, you're more likely to enjoy and perform better in a subject if you like the teacher that is teaching it.

"I did not come here to squabble with you, Miss L/N." Snape rolled his eyes, reaching again for the jar in your hands but you held it closer to your body. You clenched your jaw as he disregarded your title. He wasn't stupid, he was clearly doing it to get under your skin, and it was working.

"It would suit you better to respect the people that are willing to help you, Snape." You bit back at him with narrowed eyes. You passed the jar to him hesitantly, balling your fists in a small fit of rage as he took it from you. "And it's Professor L/N. I'm not your student anymore."

Snape arched a disapproving brow at you, turning around to sweep out of your classroom, his black cloak billowing out behind him like a bat. Gods, he was infuriating! You wondered how the hell the other professors have dealt with him all these years. The bastard didn't even thank you either!

He'd left you in a sour mood, and now you had only ten minutes until your class of second-years arrived. What a git.

part 2!

there it is,, i hope you enjoyed this late night idea, let me know if you did with a like or a comment, whichever you prefer. then again, you don't need to do either! 🩷 :)

[forfucksakesniall]

Hi bestie, when you have the time could you make something for lewis, like just domestic vibes and/or he being a complete simp

Domestic Vibes and being a Complete Simp

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Too much fluff

He doesn't show it much, but Lewis is a huge cuddler. When it's a lazy morning, he would bury his face in the crook of your neck and wrap his arms around you. It's a force of habit by now.

Lewis doesn't mind being the "little spoon," wrapping his arms around you as you both cuddle. His reason is because he can hear your heartbeat, but you know why he lays on your chest. You can feel the way he nuzzles his face and leaves small kisses.

He would turn the TV on and watch your favorite shows together while your koala of a boyfriend cuddles under a cozy blanket.

He talks about cooking pasta in an interview, but in reality, he is a menace in the kitchen.

But you enjoy spending time "trying" to cook something decent with him in the kitchen.

"No, Lewis. You need to add the water after." He does his old man laugh. "Oh well, we can just do it again. I guess."

When working out on his balcony in Monaco, he would encourage you to join him, making him your personal trainer. "Just one more, baby," he whispers in your ear. "I can't anymore, Lew." you try to catch your breath. "But you've only done one squat, baby."

When he did have work, he would wake up early and give you a kiss on the head before getting ready. Before he leaves the house, he would give you a kiss goodbye while you were still asleep and leave a message on your phone to see when you get up.

Lewis:

Good morning, baby.

Didn't want to wake you up.

You deserve some rest after last night ;)

I'll see you later.

I love you so much!

I love you too!!

If you ever did wake up before he left, he'd make breakfast for you and make sure to use all the time he has with you.

"You'll be late!" you tell him while he has you caged under him. "I still have some time, baby. Just let me take care of you. Don't want you feeling neglected."

When he comes late, you would wait for him in bed watching a movie or reading a book.

"Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?" he asks you. "I wanted to wait for you. You've been gone all day."

Both of you would end up in long, late-night conversations about life and dreams, making sure you always feel listened to and supported.

There may be times when you feel under the weather or when your hormones are acting up. He would stay with you longer and even call in sick if needed.

"You shouldn't have done that... This will pass. I'll be fine later anyway," you say as you cradle his face while lying in bed.

"I don't want to leave knowing that you're not feeling okay. I would be thinking about you even if I leave. Might as well stay here and take care of you," he says, leaning in close to give you a sweet kiss.

Lewis is known for being fashion-forward. While he shops for himself, he would go to the women's section to check out anything that you might like.

He would come home with dozens of bags from different brands."Looks like someone had Christmas early," you tease him. "Oh baby, this isn't even close to Christmas for you," he tells you while setting all the bags down on the floor. "I need you to be a good girl and try some things for me," he winks while getting more bags from the car.

He is seen on all your social media posts. He can't resist leaving flirty comments and adorable emojis, making sure everyone knows he's head over heels for you.

Lewis is known to be very private with his life, definitely with you. So, whenever you guys were in public, he would always take you to a place where there's a private area to be with you. Being this protective also had its perks. He knows that after they serve your food, no one would come over to check on you two again unless you both are done with your meals. He would be really handsy under the table. Light touches on your arm, the way he looks into your eyes then lips and at the same time leans in closer to you. At this point, the only thing stopping him was the table between you.

But when you're with him or your friends, he doesn't shy away from PDA. He would hug you from behind, holding your waist, have you sit on his lap, kiss your cheek from time to time, and whisper sweet nothings.

Lewis loves taking pictures with you or of you, creating a personalized gallery of your love story.

[hadischara]

Time for some Lyney funnies, methinks. Lyney intends to propose to you in the most over-dramatic, over-the-top manner. But every time he tries, he keeps getting interrupted by someone or something.

Hi, sorry for the late post. I had a few things to do.

But I'll happily write this now.

My oh so sweet patience

It wasn't the first time this week and it surely wouldn't be the last. It was so frustrating but yet he couldn't blame it on the people doing it.

He had tried to propose to you for the fourth time this week and he was interrupted once again. This time in the restaurant, from one of the servers themselves! Couldn't that guy wait for 3 minutes and ask the table besides the two of you?

Well seemingly not. And you we're there expecting something since he said he'd tell you something very important. "What did you want to say Lyney?" "It's alright my dear. I forgot it anyways, but how about you tell me how you got that beautiful? "

The next time it happened it was Lynette. His own damn twin. And it was the worst moment too. He was just about to go down on one knee before Lynette burst in and said it was an emergency.

Turns out, no emergency but just Freminet with a scratch on his upper leg. Lynette couldn't see blood, but this was or had to be a joke. The scratch wasn't even bleeding!

After patching the blonde boy up Lyney returned to your room only to find you napping. Well, maybe another time.

Unknown to the magician, you had already seen the little case with the ring multiple times and were desperate for him to finally ask. If it continues like this, you might just take matters in your own two hands. After all, why shouldn't you?

You did however find it pretty amusing how he was making it dramatically only to be interrupted and searching for an excuse why he was nearly on one knee.

"No,no. I just thought I had seen something shiny. Maybe it was just your beautiful eyes though."

"Hm? Oh I uhhh. Just wanted to ehhh pick this rose for you. "

Some of those were better than others. But you still loved him with your whole heart. No matter how long this proposal might need.

So, how was it? It wasn't too long but I hope it was alright.

Cya ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[mingtinys]

songs of a caged bird

pairing : choi jongho x gn!reader

angst , fluff , lore based , outlaw!jongho , strictland!au

warnings : talk of raids and death , dystopian themes , tyrannical leadership

word count : 1.5 k

requested? yes

a/n : had to brush up on my ateez lore for this one

There's a voice on the roof.

You know because you've heard it echo through the thin walls of your apartment at the same time each morning. It started three days ago, early in the morning when the city sleeps and the guards change shifts.

5:00 A.M.

On the dot.

You thought you might have been imagining it at first. Something as outlandish as singing hadn't been heard in, well, most of your life. Not in any instance without immediate consequence at least. And when you'd asked your neighbors they'd told you they hadn't heard anything of the sort. Then again, they've somehow also never been awoken by the sirens and late-night raids that take place on the streets just below your high-rise. Perhaps if you hadn't been born a light sleeper, you wouldn't either.

But now, as the sound amplifies on the climb to the roof, you're sure of it. There is a voice silkier than anything your mind could possibly fabricate, and the boy it belongs to, high above the world, shrouded in moonlight. He sits on the ledge, legs dangling over the sides, near your bedroom window. His head sways side to side, so consumed in his song that he doesn't notice your approaching footsteps.

"You shouldn't do that." You speak, and the voice halts. Though he doesn't flinch, nor seems the slightest bit startled by your interruption.

"Why not?' He questions.

The boy's dark eyes bore into your own. Tired and cast in shadows that seem to envelop everything around them. There's a blank expression scribbled across his face. Boredom.

Or is it curiosity? That still doesn't feel right.

Maybe indifference.

You can't tell.

"They'll hear you," you point to the streets, where new guardians take post around empty corners and alleyways. There's a chill to the night and you're quick to fold your arms in an attempt to block the morning breeze. "People have been killed for less. If they catch you they'll—"

"Are you going to turn me in?" The boy raises his eyebrows, like he knows you pose no threat to him. In fact, the question feels more like a tease than a presumption.

"I'm just saying, if I can hear you others can. Singing isn't allowed." Though you feel like he should already know this.

"Why?"

"Because, human emotion is the root of the world's—" You begin to regurgitate the same motto you've heard all your life, but the boy holds up his palm.

"I didn't ask you to repeat that jargon they spoon-feed you every day. Why do you think singing is dangerous."

No one's ever asked you that. They've only ever told. But never why, just that it is. Until now, you've never questioned it, and it feels like the boy knows that from your silence.

He's back the next morning. Same voice, same time, same song, same dark brown eyes. Except this time, his expression is different. He looks amused.

No. Delighted.

Actually, it's almost like a... pleasantly surprised look. Yeah, that sounds right.

"You're back." He says.

"So are you."

"I like the view."

"I live here."

"On the roof?" His eyes widen. "I didn't know rent was that expensive?"

Your brow furrows. "No, in my apartment. Below the roof."

"That was a joke," the corner of his lip turns up. "A bad one, but just a joke."

"Oh."

The boy hums, nodding as he looks back out at the city. "You want to sit?"

Part of you wants to stroll down to the 24/7 corner shop, buy a quality pair of noise-canceling earplugs, and tuck back into bed. Forget about the boy with a voice of gold and continue about your mundane life. But the other part feels an itching so deep in your bones it burrows an uncomfortable pit in your stomach.

So you sit, in hopes that learning more will quell that unbearable feeling.

"I'm Jongho," he smiles.

You've noticed Jongho has a habit of being vague. Whether it's answering one of your few questions or simply telling stories, he rarely elaborates on where his answers and tales come from.

Like on the fifth night you joined him on his ledge. When he told you of an island he'd once seen. One he claimed to be so full of color, music, art, and dancing he'd felt like he was back "home" for a moment. A fairytale, you're sure.

"—That kind of stuff is actually celebrated where I'm from." He says that a lot.

"Where I'm from." But never elaborates.

"People make a living out of it. That's what me and my friends wanted to do. But that was before..." Jongho's words peter out and his gaze falls to the distant, twinkling lights in the sky.

"Before what?"

"Before here."

There's something in his eyes you haven't seen from him before. You pin it down a little quicker than you expect. Something halfway between longing and sadness.

Whatever it is, it makes your heart hurt.

"Do you..." your eyes search the sky for the right words. "Wish you could go back? To before."

He nods. "Every day. But there are things keeping me here. People who need me. People I love."

"Your friends?"

"Yeah. Among other things."

Jongho's eyes leave the stars and settle on your face. The moon is full, and it's the first time you've been able to catch the warm, brown hue of them. Like the polished wood of a violin you'd once seen in a history textbook.

You hadn't questioned it back then, but now, you wonder how something so exquisitely crafted could be so scorned by those in charge. But then again, it wasn't your place to question such matters.

Right?

"You should really stop," you say. "I'm worried the guardians will—"

"I thought we weren't supposed to feel trivial emotions like worry?" Jongho grins. You've learned by now that when the corner of Jongho's lip lifts just enough to flash his canines, he's joking. "They might lock you up with me."

"I don't plan on being an accessory. Though I have to say, I will miss your songs." The words taste foreign as they leave your lips and judging by the way Jongho snaps his head to the side, they sound it too.

"Did you just make a joke? Didn't know they taught you how to do that at your prestigious institution." He quips back.

"They teach us a lot of things. Though I'm not quite sure how much of it to believe anymore." Lately, in classes, you've found your mind wandering. Recalling the many stories Jongho's told you and fantasizing about what it'd be like to live in a world with everything yours lacks.

He seems to think pretty fondly of his world. So much so, sometimes you think you're the one who wound up in the wrong world.

"And how does that make you feel?" Jongho presses. It's the most urgency you've heard in his voice since the day you met. It's isn't much, but it's there. Like he's been anticipating this exact moment.

You feel... you aren't entirely sure.

"Conflicted."

You haven't been able to focus on much of anything lately. A whirlwind of questions, feelings, and fear cloud your thoughts day in and day out. Sitting through classes is suffocating and the watchful eye of the android guardians feels more threatening than ever. Like once glance and they'd see straight through you and reveal the doubt accumulating against everything you've ever known.

Your thoughts alone could land you a one-way ticket straight to The Disposal.

Only when you're next to Jongho, safely stowed away above the city on your little rooftop, does the weight lift from your chest. You're used to hiding all of your emotions. Yet somehow he still knows.

"You seem distracted lately."

You've never felt a need to lie with Jongho. "I think— I feel like life shouldn't be lived like this. Void of emotion and art. The way you've described it, it sounds so beautiful. So human. I just don't understand how it could possibly be a bad thing."

There's a softness to Jongho's gaze when your eyes meet and you swear, you've both somehow scooted closer during your speech. Close enough for your thighs to touch and the air between you to feel thinner.

"Do you think it's still possible to bring any of that back?"

"I do," Jongho says it like he knows something you don't. Then again, you've always felt he knows more than he's shared. "It's easier than you think, so long as we have people like you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No doubt, no hesitation, you do.

His eyes search your face for what seems like an eternity and then suddenly, his palm braces against your knee as he leans and his lips meet yours across the narrow distance. It's short but still leaves a warm sensation that lingers even after he pulls away and floods through your veins.

Your head falls to his shoulder and if the morning wasn't so quiet you might've missed the sigh of relief he breaths out. You can physically feel him relax against you, letting his head rest atop yours. Giving your knee one last reassuring squeeze. Whether it's for you or him, you're not entirely sure.

"Jongho?" You whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Will you sing for me?"

[14dayswithyou]

TEO MY HUSBAND I MISSED YOU BOOKIE BEAR!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Could I have some college content with me Angel and Teo? Mayhaps in the campus library doing work and he’s trying to be distracting?

WARNING... minors/ageless blogs: do not interact. please read my pinned post before you send in anything !!

Rosie I'm STILL IN THE ROOM!!!!!!! 🧍‍♀️

Not proofreadin this you already know what's up!!! 💗

"Hey. Pay attention to me."

You try your best to ignore the way Teo pokes and prods at your cheek with the blunt end of your pencil, before he seemingly grows bored of the action and moves on to idly flipping through the pages of the book in front of you instead. 

"Where's Jae?" Without looking, you shoot him a question. "Shouldn't you be bothering him instead of me?"

"He's busy helping his dormmate dye its hair again." Teo's fingers move from the pages and drift towards your free hand instead. "...You should let me dye yours as well. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"..." You pull your hand away from his and flip the page, "No."

"C'mon. What's it gonna take for you to pull that stick out of your ass and get your nose outta those books? I'm bored."

"Teo," You sighed deeply, "I need to study for my finals. You know I can't afford to fail this term."

"That's all?" You could practically hear him scoff. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, starshine; your professors are a bunch of fuckin' chumps. One word from me and they'll give you whatever grade you want. Now, c'mon." 

Teo nudges your arm to goad you into packing up your belongings and leaving with him, yet you don't seem to move. "...Seriously?"

You send the dark-haired male a pointed look before returning to your papers once more. Although annoyingly, he takes that as an invitation to scoot closer and lean in dangerously close to your ear.

"...I'll take my shirt off if you don't move."

No response.

"Pants, too."

If he wanted to get kicked out of the campus library for public indecency, that was on him.

"I'll pull the fire alarm."

That almost gets a twitch out of you — knowing fully well that the muscular man beside you was definitely the type of guy who'd do such a thing — but he's been acting more... compliant lately, and you didn't dare ask why.

"...Fine. Suit yourself."

Although you can't see Teo from your peripheral vision, you can hear him slouch back into the chair with a heavy sigh, before he pulls out his phone and obnoxiously starts typing away.

It was certainly odd to have him linger quietly by your side like this — normally, when Teo got sick of something, he'd toss whatever it was aside and find something more entertaining to do instead. So this... This certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

You had half a mind to ask if Teo would oh-so-kindly switch his phone to silent if he wanted to text that loudly, but you decided it was best not to waste time on trivial things. Your cheat sheet wasn't going to revise itself, so you instead focused your attention back to the words in front of you and tried to shut the annoying guy out.

But Teo certainly made things difficult when he absentmindedly threw an arm over the back of your chair and leaned closer to your side. You could practically feel the heat from his thigh as he brushes them up against yours — and if you weren't so hellbent on shutting his presence out — you would've noticed the subtle scent of his cologne wafting in your direction.

Old money, luxury, and the faintest hint of smoke.

Your eyebrows twitch at the audible ding! of his phone, indicating that he must've gotten a text from someone. You pretend not to notice how he lets out a puff of laughter at whatever is on his screen... Obviously, he was trying to bait you into looking in his direction to see what was so funny — but upon realising that it wasn't working — he goes back to typing something instead.

But once he's done, Teo decides to throw his phone onto the table instead of shoving it into his pocket like usual. His screen stays lit for a few more seconds before it fades to black, but you were quick enough to catch a glimpse of his lock screen before it was gone.

There, for anyone to see, was a picture of you: with your arms resting on the table as you focussed on the textbooks laid out in front of you — with a soft look of concentration on your face.

[philly-interlude]

[11:51 AM]

"have you ever thought of leaving her?"

"...why do you ask?"

"i'm asking you a question"

"...sometimes-"

you heard two men chatting behind the slightly opened door of the rooftop, surely it was your boyfriend jisung and his bestfriend.

your hands grip the handles, hesitating whether you'll go there or nah, well you don't wanna interrupt their chattering.

you didn't hear the next words coming from his mouth as you left downstairs with the lunch tight on your arms, you didn't know why you left though your mind tells you to listen more of it.

he thought of leaving me sometimes? am i too much for him...or am i not enough...?

you have now overthink

on your way down, you bumped with ara—jisung's ex-crush which is also your... bestfriend? maybe.

"oh? y/n, be careful you have lunch with you, is that for jisung?" she smirked teasingly as she lifted her brow teasing you more, but honestly, it doesn't give you butterflies on your stomach.

without a word, you smiled and just nodded respectfully knowing she's the president of your class lol, "well i have to go somewhere sorry" she was about to say something but you ran from her not wanting to speak more.

oh god how you despised listening to her speaking his name in front of you, you despised how she acts in front of your boyfriend when she borrows his bike, how you despise her in every way whenever she interacts with jisung.

you were never jealous, but when it comes to both of them, jealousy flares anywhere. you just wanna cry and curl up like a baby thinking that they both have feelings for each other but you trust jisung, you love him.

unknown to you, you were crying already from the thought of them having conversations behind your back, but you know she won't betray you because she already has her man, so why cry over jisung cheating with ara? that's just stupid.

or maybe it was just the stereotype that jisung would cheat with her since he liked her before and that he also has a photo with her that we willingly took and posted it on social media with 70 reactions with the caption "true love is with the president" and just- but he hasn't done that with you.

in addition to that, his mother has seen it and more people did, too, especially his and her relatives and close friends and that hurt you more now.

you don't like overreacting when it comes to this but you fished your phone from your skirt pocket and went to your social deleting the highlight you had with both of you and jisung.

"that's radioactive jealousy you have there my friend" a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts and hid the screen of your phone hastily, it was too late as you looked up and saw jisung's bestfriend raising his eyebrows with a small smile towards you.

you stood up and rolled your eyes on him, "shut up, where's jisung?" you plainly asked. he crossed his arms in front of you with a stoic gaze, "you were just sobbing about him and then you're finding him now? the fuck is that mood"

"just answer me"

"nuh-uh let's go somewhere else for you to clear your mind, crying about him and finding him after your rage won't help for the sake of your peace-"

you interrupted him with your index finger touching his lips shutting him up as you inhaled gritting your teeth, "fine let's go" you went past through him and he followed like a dog behind you.

a voice oh-so-familiar caught your ears and halted both you and jisung's friend's steps, him almost bumping into you letting out a small 'ow'

"y/n!" it's jisung, obviously, but he isn't the one that caught your attention- "see i told you we shouldn't walk this path y/n you're so hard-headed-" jisung's bestfriend whispered annoyingly beside you.

you wanna furrow your eyebrows but you don't want to give a negative impression towards your boyfriend especially since it's the only free time you can be with him.

"hi sungie" you hugged each other as you trained your eyes to ara, of course she went with her 'cutie patootie' persuasion just to borrow your boyfriend's bike again.

might as well smell the seat of your bike after she sits on it. your evil side spoke but you shook your head not wanting to be mad and jealous again, you have the worst personality when you get jealous, you know that so you limit your craziness to prevent...homicide.

"have you eaten yet?" jisung asked, "no" you briefly but straightforwardly answered. "attitude, miss" he deadpanned, "what's with you again?" questioned him.

"nothing lol" you giggled and pinched his cheeks and was about to go away from his arms and tell some invalid reasons yet he gripped your arms tightly but softly forcing you to stay with him, that man's dead serious and he ain't ballin'.

jisung pulled you somewhere hidden (a/n: it's not what you think it is-) and cornered you on the wall, he looked at you dead in the eye, "go on what's with the attitude? i know you y/n don't trip me" he lowly said.

but you're a bit prideful, "you know me? then you gotta know when to avoid people i despise too, i'm not being possessive, i honestly don't care sung but when it comes to her it's a different story.

it's a fucking different feeling because i feel like you still have those sparks on your eyes whenever you look at her whenever she speaks to you like- whenever...i don't know i can't trust you with her, i am jealous, of course i admit that i hate everything you did to her that you didn't do to me...i-

i hate to think that you liked her more before than you do to me as your...girlfriend", your knees went weak and eventually gave up from being overwhelmed, you hate crying in front of him over a small thing.

he went down you slowly, his glittery eyes looking at you sadly, but the words that came out from his mouth surprised you.

"you're overreacting again" he pulled you close to him and brought you back to the classroom.

[rosietrace]

“Midnight Waltz”

| Malleus Draconia + Victoria Shard | 🐉 + 🪞 |

✎ᝰ. synopsis : Malleus held out his hand to her, his eyes glowing under the darkness of the hall. There was a strange tug in Victoria's system, somehow urging her — convincing her — to take that step closer and intertwine her hand with his.

✎ᝰ. content warnings : takes place post-glorious masquerade, Victoria's dress description is inaccurate to the event color scheme due to this being written pre-redesign, potentially ooc

✎ᝰ. genre : romance, canon divergence, oc + canon character

( ˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ ) a/n : I have so many drafts in my docs its almost EMBARRASSING ☠️ so I saw that this was already finished among them and decided, “why the hell not?” and boom. I've finally posted it. Good for me ig [ dividers belong to the amazing @cafekitsune !!! ]

✎ᝰ. : reblogs > likes

“And just where do you think you're going?”

Whatever mood Victoria was in prior, it had immediately soured. Malleus Draconia came into view at the turn of her head.

“I'm leaving.” It was an answer, simple as that. It didn't warrant any other explanation; the festivities of Noble Bell had come to a close, and no matter the fireworks, the glimmering lights, and the enthusiasm of their schoolmates— none of it mattered.

It would all become a distant memory, one way or another. Maybe it would be something she could look back on with fondness.

Or maybe she'd forget a moment such as this. Just like so many others that came before it.

Her response made Malleus appear all the more displeased than usual. “Already?”

“It's past midnight, Draconia.”

“And I thought the festivities would finally get you to loosen up, Shard.”

“What point would there be in doing so?” So you could hold it over my head and mock me? She sure as hell wouldn't allow that.

“It's rare for you to not be so… yourself.”

Malleus didn't know how else to phrase it, it seemed. Even the sound of his voice bothered Victoria, almost as much as looking at him and his emeralds for eyes.

“... You're not in your masquerade garb,” Victoria acknowledged. Now all the prince wore was his Diasomnia uniform— complete with the boots and, in Victoria's humble opinion, equally ridiculous hat.

“Is that a problem?” he inquired. His stance militaristic, arms behind his back, head held high like any awaiting king would.

Oh, how Victoria yearned to knock him off that pompous throne. To be the one wearing the crown and staring him down, watching as he groveled.

Well, Victoria, you can't have everything, she told herself in mild disappointment.

It was already late into the night, and the bell at the top of the tower had ceased its ringing when Midnight struck. They shouldn't have been here, near each other, looking at each other.

Malleus spoke again, the bastard. “And what of you?” His hand lazily motioned to her. And for the slightest moment Victoria wished there was one more garment she could wear as a barrier between him and her.

She refused to let that show. “What of me?”

His eyebrow arched. “So late into the night, when everyone is tucked safely into their sleeping quarters…”

“And yet here you are: all dressed in white like a bride left at the altar.”

“Like you're any better,” Victoria shot back with a sneer. “You fancy an unchaperoned midnight stroll, Draconia?”

“The stars are of better company than the likes of you, dearest Shard.”

“How flattering.”

“I should hope so. It's probably the only genuine compliment you could ever get.”

Her eyes narrowed down into slits, her lips pressing together before she said, “Do not challenge my patience, Draconia.” Patience that was hanging by a very thin, very fragile thread.

But Malleus Draconia was a prince not so easily deterred. His eyes wandered. To the large stained glass windows at his right, the moon illuminating them in a strange yet no less stunning disposition of color.

His eyes focused back on her, raking over her from head to toe. How irritating that he remained with an obscured and masked face. Perhaps that was a blessing, Victoria wanted to convince herself.

“Would you care for a dance?”

The question came in a matter of seconds. Straight-laced, firm, not sounding even the least hesitant.

The hesitancy she expected radiated off of her, instead. He chuckled at the baffled expression on her face, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile.

Naturally, Victoria wasn't quick to accept. She took a step back, one foot forward and the other backward, she folded her arms across her chest.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg.”

“Don't play games with me, Draconia.”

“And what makes you think this is a game, Shard?”

“You don't have a reason to dance with me. Not willingly,” Victoria took another step, this time towards him. “Have you perhaps been spiked with some sort of hallucinating serum?”

Malleus scoffed. “Don't be daft…” yet he didn't say anything to what she'd said before that inquiry.

“Being daft is more in character for you,” Victoria said in a mockingly crooning tone, clasping her hands together and bringing them close to her cheeks, rocking slowly.

“You are crossing a line.”

“I've crossed many bridges, Draconia. All I've done after is watch them burn.”

“Do you only speak in metaphors?”

“Do you do nothing but annoy me for your entertainment?”

To which Malleus gritted out, “A dance is all I ask of you.” It seemed she'd done her job of tugging at his strings well enough.

Her lips curved. “And why do you think I'd agree to something like that?” They stared each other down, eyes blazing in intensity.

Malleus held out his hand to her, his eyes glowing under the darkness of the hall. There was a strange tug in Victoria's system, somehow urging her — convincing her — to take that step closer and intertwine her hand with his.

Malleus guided her to a vacant music room. It seemed to be lacking in actual use, all the inhabiting instruments covered in dust and stained with a spider's intricate cobweb.

Victoria sent him a look. He knew she was wondering how he'd come to discover this room, but he was better off ignoring the silent question for now.

Bringing forth a self-conducted orchestra was as easy as flicking Malleus' wrist. The instruments burst with life, floating mid-air and playing a tune for them to dance to.

With a turn of his heel, Malleus went back to facing her. Victoria, dressed like some ghostly bride, iridescent in a dress so white it bordered on blue.

He bowed, even if it struck a chord in his pride to do so. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, wasn't it?

He heard her release a huff. He kept his eyes to the ground, hand still extended to brush against hers when she finally gave in and reciprocated.

The ends of Malleus' lips ticked upwards as he pulled her close, his free arm snaking around her waist.

Victoria already held a deep scowl in her eyes. It only seemed to deepen in intensity once he'd made that gesture clear to her. “Draconia…”

“And what is it now, Shard?” said Malleus, far too smug for the better of others, or his own.

“Don't act sly,” Victoria sneered, synchronizing with his movements. “You don't look good when you're sly.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “So when I'm not, I do?”

She didn't say anything about that comment. When he felt a sting of pain in his foot, he knew that she stomped on it with her heel.

Malleus was more surprised about the lack of a puncture wound than the pain itself. With how sharp her heels were, he half-expected his foot to start bleeding.

But did that stop Malleus Draconia, prince of the Briar Valley abyss, to move forward and engage in a waltz with her? No. No, it did not.

There was little surprise in the way their movements synchronized; Victoria made for both a formidable academic opponent, so Malleus felt little shock with her formidability on the dance floor.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” stated Malleus, giving Victoria a twirl. “When the celebrations came, I mean.”

“Tsk.” Victoria's footsteps were hard against the floorboards of the music room. “What, did you expect me to rejoice when the crimson blossoms wreaked havoc?”

“With the kind of woman you present yourself as, I would hardly be surprised if you feigned outrage.”

“I don't need to feign it when all I have to do is look at you.”

“How flattering.” Malleus' eyes rolled heavenward. Why should he bother at this point? No matter what he did, Victoria Shard would not take kindly to him being… well, himself.

He jolted, his face grimacing with a sudden hiss of his teeth. Shard…

He looked down at her, at her sapphire-like eyes and the smug look on her face that dared feign ignorance.

“Shard.” Malleus glowered.

Victoria huffed, and he could've sworn she was trying desperately hard not to laugh in his face. “What, Draconia? Already so tired from our dance to forfeit?”

If this were a challenge, Malleus made the immature decision of stepping up to the challenge.

This woman— Malleus thought with gritted teeth after each hard, deliberate stomp Victoria performed directly on to his feet. More likely than not, he'd lost count at how many times she'd done it.

Perhaps at some point, Zenith would give him some sort of petty participation award. Preferably titled, Endured being repeatedly stomped in the feet by Victoria Shard.

“In all my centuries of walking this land, never have I encountered a woman as egregious as you.”

“Then I find myself lucky.”

“You simply can't help but make my blood boil, can you?”

“Oh, Draconia.” Victoria batted her eyelashes with a croon.

“It's my favorite pastime.”

How crude of her. Malleus felt his pride get struck by some arrow. Be it an arrow from Orion, or one by Eros, he could not tell the difference.

He wanted, so badly, to put her in her place. To set his foot down and speak sternly, warning her not to be so bold in any future interactions between them.

But it was difficult. Difficult having to deal with a woman so high on her horse that she's arrogant enough to try and kick him off his; Difficult to constantly maintain order when it became very clear that it was the very thing she didn't want out of him.

Difficult to know that— no matter what he did— he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He dared stared longer than necessary; at her frame, the dress she wore, the choker around her neck, the color of her eyes.

Her lips.

Malleus came to an abrupt halt. In doing so, so did Victoria, as were the instruments that only played at his command.

Victoria nearly stumbled, but the arm around the small of her back kept its grasp secure to prevent her from truly falling, lest her pride be wounded even more after agreeing to this.

“Draconia?” She'd called out to him, with an arch of her brow and a honeyed edge to her voice that made him want to fall apart.

Malleus remained ever still, unsure of what to make of himself after thinking such accursed thoughts. He barely heard her.

“Draconia?” She could repeat his name a thousand times, for the rest of time, and the only thing it would ever do to him was make his heart melt because she was saying his name.

He wasn't staring at her. Not directly. Not at her eyes, or any of her accessories— but at her lips. His eyes locked on to them, his breath uneasily jagged.

A part of him wanted to let go. To give in. To finally reach out and indulge in something for his own sake, and not for the sake of his kingdom, no matter what consequences he may face in the long run.

But he didn't. Malleus was better than that— his pride was better than to stoop to the levels of some desperate loon.

Victoria grew restless, calling out to him once more. “Draconia, speak,” she demanded. “Say something, damn it. I don't care what you have to say, just say—”

A small yelp came out of her as Malleus pulled her closer, their noses brushing. Neither of the two tried to break the gazes they held— though in the case of Victoria, her eyes seemed wide in a manner that, to Malleus, appeared almost otherworldly.

The hand that intertwined with hers broke free of its own iron grip, soon making itself known by caressing her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lips, but this time his gaze never wavered while looking into her eyes.

That familiar, gorgeous ocean-like pool that he'd drown in, for as long as time would allow him to.

Seldom were the visions that plagued his mind. He shan't bring himself to indulge himself. For the good of his people, of his kingdom.

Of himself.

“Save your voice for after our waltz, my sweet villain.”

“... What the hell am I looking at?”

Miren rubbed his eyes a good three times, blinking all the while and even going as far as pinching himself. Anything to try and prove to him that what he was looking at was a dream.

Turns out it wasn't.

There he was, Malleus Draconia — prince of Briar Valley, ruler of the abyss — dancing with Victoria Shard.

“Well this just got interesting,” uttered Rosemi, lightly shoving Miren to the side so she too could take a peek through the barley open doorway.

Miren's eyes narrowed. “Rosemi.”

“Miren.” Rosemi’s voice remained perfectly pleasant, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she maintained her focus on the incredulous sight before her and not the glutton beside her.

“Oho, how scandalous, Miss Shard…”

Miren grimaced. Maybe it was the weird mumbling on Rosemi's part that was getting to him, but a part of him felt… bewildered? Regret? Whatever it was, Malleus and Victoria dancing was the source of it all.

But the moment looked — and felt — intimate. Peaceful. A calm before a storm that Miren didn't know when it could strike.

Yet Miren was no stranger to the obvious look in Malleus' eyes. His lips pursed, unsure of what to think.

Perhaps it was best to keep his thoughts to himself.

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of Character appearances/mentions

Malleus Draconia

Victoria Shard — Me 😈

Zenith Devi — Also me 😈

Miren Lockhart — @authoruio

Rosemi Columbina — Also @/authoruio

@starry-night-rose | @jasdiary | @nem0-nee | @fumikomiyasaki | @sakuramidnight15 | @geminiiviolets | @valse-a-mille-temps | @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm | @twistedsongstressofstarz | @twsted-princess @mystery-skulls-ghost | @absolutelyobsessedkiya | @lueerhythm | @cecilebutcher

[bbobpul]

break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."

[xecutivecucumber]

Executive Cucumber's thoughts on the Bad Batch: Season 3x06 and 3x07 (I'm pretty sure I'm formatting this differently every time. Oh well)

Okay, there's a subject I'm going to have to postpone until the end of the post because I want all my thoughts on that to be together: the main operative clone. And the rest might be slightly out of order. I'm also doing this before I see anyone else's thoughts, just so we get the pure version.

Let's go!

I honestly thought that Senator Singh and Riyo were dead meat. But no, they're fine because REX IS COOLER THAN ANYONE. Ugh that man. Freaking throwing the grenade back at him.

Clones are beautiful. That is all.

THAT'S THAT ONE PLACE FROM THE OG CLONE WARS MOVIE!!! TETH!!!

Howzer I love you but if you touch Crosshair we will be having words.

I am actually really proud of Crosshair and his restraint this episode. He could have been really cutting to Howzer.

OMEGA WITH THE TOOTHPIIIIICKS and Hunter is jealouuuus

EDIT: ECHO AND THE CROSSBOW HE'S SO SWEET

WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU CROSSHAIR

It's really nice to see normal clones being normal again. (Too bad it doesn't last)

There's something up with Omega. I'm not going to lie, I think that she and Rex are going to plan to get her captured in order to track her back to Tantiss.

HOWZER STOP DISTRUSTING CROSSHAIR THIS MOMENT

I appreciate that Hunter doesn't seem to distrust Crosshair during this point.

...they really shouldn't have brought that operative back.

Rex is considering stealing Omega, I swear. I love that he gets down to her level.

WOOOOOOOOOOOLFFE (Plo would be so disappointed in you)

It's...odd to see these normal troopers with him.

It's also strange that he cannot comprehend that the clones could be traitors at first.

STOP DYING YOU BEAUTIFUL REGS

'She only bites half the time' I'm pretty sure Omega is lying here but I don't care.

CROSSHAIR IS SUCH A WORRIED DAD HOLY CRAP. 'Oh, I'm much worse' I LOVE YOU

And this just gives such a little insight into how the Batch was when they were together. I have a feeling that Crosshair was a fusser and a nagger.

And I love how Howzer's natural and correct conclusion is: 'no one evil could love that child.' (Unless you're Nala Se)

Hey, actual candor from Crosshair. I keep saying this is who he always was under it all, but I do think he's healed somewhat, at least towards regs. The healing power of Omega.

'Too bad' I LOVE THIS MAN

STOP DYING REGS

Rex talking down Wolffe reminded me so much of him trying to talk Jesse down. So ow.

Okay, what ROCK have they shoved Wolffe under for the last YEAR??? YES THE EMPIRE WOULD GET RID OF THE CLONES YOU DOG BRAINED IDIOT

(Plo would be proud that you let them go)

...they just killed all of Rex's clones, except Howzer and Gregor. And I have a bad feeling about Howzer. STOP TAKING THINGS FROM REX HASN'T HE LOST ENOUGH???

Okay here we are, at the big topic. Hold onto your pants.

That operative clone. Is. Tech. Because if he is not, they are purposefully using the narrative to deceive us.

I might miss a few things, but that's because I'm up past my bedtime and I've been up too late the last few days.

1. The falling and water parallels. This clone falls a LOT during this episode and dives into a lot of water. He even falls into mist. This time it's to kill and capture his siblings instead of save them.

2. The injury. This clone is hobbling around a lot after his injury, which was immediately reminiscent of Tech's broken leg at the beginning of season 2. Both of them are forcing themselves past their limit to achieve a mission. Specifically with injured legs.

3. General attitude and demeanor. In combination with the stealth and injury, this clone has a more hunched posture. His speech patterns are more formal, though we haven't really heard a lot of other clone operatives talk with their helmets on. But he's also apparently allergic to orders. I first thought that he'd be out of the chain of command, but they would have told Wolffe that he wasn't in charge of the operative if that were the case. Or the operative would have straight up told him 'I don't take orders from you' instead of staring awkwardly at him. Instead he runs off and does his own thing. While injured. Not to mention the buttons on his gauntlet. The other clone operatives don't have those.

4. The cybernetic legs. Now we don't know for sure if Tech would have cybernetic legs, but it seems likely for a severely injured trooper. And when Crosshair is looking at the heat signature, you can see that his legs are blue instead of yellow or red. No heat. Not organic.

5. What he says to Crosshair. 'You could have been one of us.' 'You chose the wrong side.' Yes, he's talking about Crosshair resisting the re-education. But flip it on its head real quick. 'You could have been one of us. One of the Bad Batch.' 'You chose the wrong side. The Empire.' Those lines very easily have double meanings.

6. An interesting one is when he starts moving rocks after the explosion. Why would he do that? Why not immediately go find another way in? He's moving only the smaller rocks. There's a large one in the way that he couldn't move himself. And he doesn't get the rest of the troopers to come move it when they arrive. He almost seems confused.

Like he's somewhere else after an explosion, having to move rocks. Like in the Crossing.

I know that this hardly seem like iron clad evidence. But in the language of story telling, it's practically screaming in our faces.

And I'm so glad he's back. I missed him. He won't be himself for a while, but I legitimately believe we'll get one last fight with the Batch all together. Because brain washing is a heck of a lot easier to fix than being dead.

My sister is doing the good work and creating a tik token about it, and I'll probably share it here when she's finished.

(We're getting the episode 'Identity Crisis ON MY BIRTHDAY and so help me if that's about Tech)

Honestly I thought I'd be more excited, but I spent the entire two episodes forcing myself into not having expectations and also I might be in shock.

[zcorners120]

Hello, could you please make a part 3 for the shut up and get in story? I loved part 1 and part 2! Maybe that they walk into the paddock and garage together and that those mechanics are shocked that they are together. But if you come up with something else I will be happy with that as well!

yes ! im v happy to see my arthur fics getting recognition, especially shut up & get in, i put loads of effort into them <3 it's been a while since i wrote them so i had to re read them LMAAAOO

arthur leclerc x reader MASTERLIST PART ONE PART TWO

synopsis; your confusing newfound relationship with Arthur has now started to progress further..

warnings;

Trapped in his embrace, you began to increasingly panic. Maybe if you just pretended to fall asleep for awhile? Or do you just pull out of his grip?

You took the riskier option, having to pull with every muscle and get out of his strong arms. He stirred slightly, the gentle sunlight gracing his relaxed face as he dozed off.

You changed back into your now dry jeans, keeping his shirt on as you spray some deodorant and perfume on that you had in your bag. Slipping down the stairs and into the kitchen you made some breakfast, humming a tune from a shitty song, mixing the eggs in the pan.

"Something smells good." A deep voice announces, accompanied by the steps that it was taking towards you.

Slightly jumping, forgetting it wasn't just you in this incredible house.

"Oh yeah sorry, thought I'd just make us something." You cringed at the thought of this, you 24 hours ago wouldn't of have believed the situation.

He sat opposite on the kitchen island, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"I don't wanna bring this up, but like, sleeping together? What do we make of that?" Stirring the scrambled eggs before stopping, looking up and being met with Arthur's raised eyebrows.

"At least let me eat the eggs first, damn." Witty attitude straight from the morning.

"Not like that, pervert." You flicked a bit of broken egg shell towards him that you hadn't thrown away yet.

Little did you know, that egg shell was about to start war.

You saw the demeanour on his face turn from playful to something serious behind his eyes, but you were a bit too curious to find out.

Turning around with a smirk plastered on your face, thinking you'd finally won against him. Getting the pancake mix ready, you felt something wet and gooey fall on your head, running down the back of your neck.

"You're game."

Splatters everywhere. Ketchup in places it shouldn't be. Equally soaked in milk and runny yolk dripping.

Sat down on the wet floor opposite each other, absolutely beat by your childish activities. Trying to pretend like Arthur didn't pick you up by the waist, screaming when dropped you in a concoction of blueberries, smashed avocado and strawberry jam. Or closing you into the corner of the kitchen, his hot and heavy breath millimetres away from your plump lips, moment ruined by yoghurt falling and saturating your hair.

As you went to shower, for the second time, in Arthur Leclerc's shower, he posted something on his story.

Agreeing to a peace treaty, you headed to work in Arthur's car again, wearing another one of his tops and a pair of his joggers since he insisted.

Walking through the double doors to the academy together, huge smiles plastered on your faces was truly a sight that had to be seen with your own eyes.

The other mechanics went quiet, slightly in shock to see the two of you walking in late, giddy, and wearing his clothes.

"I thought they hated each other?" One asked his friend, to which his friend shakes his head and replies.

"They're kids. Who knows at this rate?"

[darkkitty1208]

on fic writing and fandom: where am i going forward?

So. It's a bloody dull Friday and I'm writing this post--have been meaning to, for a while--because I can't stop thinking about it. It's just a few (a lot, actually) thoughts I've had in my mind the past few days that I've decided to spill into a single post, which turned out far longer than it needed to be, but nothing too important. Under the cut.

I've been a fanfic writer for a while now. Not a long time by any means, but a while nonetheless. My first fic--which is now orphaned like a few of its brothers for undisclosed reasons, though if you're an og you might be able to guess why--was dated back to the 18th of November 2021. 3 years later and I've got a humble 89 works and counting (the orphaned works and unposted wips unincluded). I can safely say I've improved quite a lot since then.

Where are you going with this, then, Kitty? Surely you aren't here just to brag about your writing progress?

Well. Not exactly. But I'll start with this: I guess what I'm trying to say is I've lost the spark.

You know. The old feeling. That boost of serotonin you get after you finish a piece you're proud of, or when you get lovely reviews on ao3, or when you get a kudos email, or a new mutual, or some wild tags under your silly post. The spark. I haven't felt it in a long time, now. The last time it's been so palpable was... I'm not sure. Probably last year's October. That was a lot of fun. I was most prolific in fic writing, that year. It shouldn't feel like a long time ago. Because it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I love all this. All that's going on right now. The comments I'm getting--even if fewer than I had before--and all the other interactions, I appreciate and enjoy and love them so, so much. And writing my newer fic projects are well exciting. But it just isn't the same anymore. I'm afraid it never will be.

(Maybe it has something to do with the lack of interactions lately. Maybe? I don't really know, either. I'm sure we're all well aware the fandom is past its peak, and with the current developments in the MCU I am frankly unsurprised, but I dunno.)

I guess that's part of the reason I've been less active lately. I've been inactive as a whole this year, admittedly, and disappearing far too often for far too long (and I notice some of my friends are, too). I just didn't get the same joy from being in a fandom like I had when I first started this blog, or my ao3 account.

In hindsight, I've probably been a little too dependent on fandom to provide me serotonin. The past few years have been hard, the years before that, too. Life just keeps kicking me in the arse time and time again. I guess I've been using fandom and fic writing as a coping mechanism, and once I've had my fill, the joy dies off to something a little more dull. Like a gum I've been chewing for too long that the sweetness has since worn off.

Honestly? I don't want it to be this way. I want to live without being so dependent on my presence online. I want to live without only knowing joy through internet interactions. I've got to learn to. It sounds silly, but it's true. (I think I may be slightly chronically online, oh no. x'D)

So naturally my first instinct is to distance myself a little. I contemplated quitting, but I can't do that. I don't see myself ever doing that, no matter how many times my brain convinces me that I might.

When this year started, I had set some goals for writing. One of them was to write for more whumptober prompts than I did last year or complete them all. I did like 21 prompts or something last year. Of 31. Within a little more than a month. While still balancing all the life stuff I had going on. This is, if not obvious, an extremely ambitious goal. I am not insane. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't possibly do that now, can I? Not with all the stuff that's been happening.

...

Can I?

...

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

See, that's another thing: writing. Probably the thing I'm trying to get at in this post but otherwise derailed completely from. Fuck my brain.

I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been writing significantly less. I still post, obviously, but not as much as like, last year when the number of works I had went from a few to far too much. That had helped me improve quite a lot, actually, but those days I barely slept because I just insisted to replace my sleep time with Writing Shit For The Gays. It was pretty unhealthy now that I look back at it. My sleep schedule is still shit now but, yk. Some things just never change.

I was really, really caught up on wanting to be good at writing. Like, really good. I wanted to make awesome things. I wanted to write like a real fucking pro. Like all the more popular fandom authors I look up to. I want to be like the big dogs in fandom. It sounds so silly. I did everything; sprinting daily, setting a minimum of 500 words writing sessions every day, trying new writing styles, churning out works after works, writing for prompts and events and gifts and the like. I was enjoying it, yes, but was it really something I did for myself? Or was it because I wanted to please other people or impress other people for their validation, which is something I'm entirely too dependent of? Was it for the numbers?

Well. It was more for that than for me, I realised a little too late.

So yeah. Fuck wanting to be good. I want to write for the hell of it. I want to write something that's for me. Not what the majority of the fandom or other people want to read, but for me. Which is why I absolutely loved writing works like just a matter of time, how to kill a god, or how to become a god, because they're not meant for other people but myself. (Ironically that last work is a gift but, yk. I still liked it.) I know I joke about self-projecting a lot, but it's been seriously helping me rediscover the joy of writing that doesn't come from the incessant need to be good or perfect or focus on producing more and more and more. It makes me feel like a kid again. Also, I'm only realising this now but I'd rather get like 5 people who enjoy reading my works so much and express them to me rather than 100 people who silently thumbs up at me and then go away to consume another fic or demand more. (All this to say I still love interactions, it just shouldn't be my no. 1 priority to get them when writing fanfics.)

But yeah. None of those works are perfect. They're not meant to be. But they're mine. They're me. They represent me. And it's so, so great to feel that in writing. I've been so stuck up on being some sort of content machine. I'm doing this for myself, how could I forget? I've been saying this since the beginning, I don't know why I'm still struggling to do it. God. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. That's that. This has become a very long ramble. Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. And for letting me waste your time, if you make it to the end of this post.