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#also what if i bought one of those....like what if....you know ironically...........
lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 10 months
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It is vital that I figure out if this works..
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cz_JXsNPBkh/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
(And I wholeheartedly blame you for negatively influencing my phone)
SCREAMING--
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aurasy3ag3r · 27 days
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂.𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
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☆ summary : Its finals week your stressed so you call the only person who can help you, Connie the campus plug. The same plug who you have a mutual 'crush' with.
☆ pairings : plug connie x blackfem reader.
☆ wc : 800
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con I'm outside.
You stared at the message that lit up your phone screen. It's finals week, so why not treat yourself to some bud? So who else do you call.. Constance—Connie for short—he has been your plug for about a year and a half now. You met at one of Erens Frat parties; he's also Sashas best friend, so you were bound to meet him at some point. He's also the man who introduced you to weed
Past
"You want some?" You shook your head; weed was something you told yourself you’d never try. "First time?" You nodded, and Connie chuckled. "Ain’t nothing to worry about mami. This weed is all good." Connie took one last hit before holding it near your mouth so you could take a hit too. Maybe just this once? It can’t hurt you that much, and this man was very convincing. Fuck it. You inhaled the smoke and immediately started coughing. Connie took the blunt out of your mouth and began softly patting your back. "It’s okay mama, just breathe." You continued to cough, and Connie handed you his cup so you could take a sip. "Fuck… how long until it starts to hit?" Connie exhaled while chuckling in your face. "You barely took a hit, so you’ll be fine." You drank the rest of Connie’s juice while he continued to softly pat your back. "Connie, what’re you doing to my roommate? She’s a good girl." Connie rolled his eyes at Sasha’s comment. "I’m not gonna ruin her; she’s still a good girl." You rolled your eyes, and Connie patted your waist.
Present
You walked out of your dorm in your pajama shorts, ironically wearing Connie’s hoodie and some slides that he bought you. Connie was on his phone, not paying attention until you tapped on his window. "Open the door, it’s so cold." Connie unlocked the door and immediately locked it again once you got in. "Maybe because you’re wearing those little ass shorts, got your whole ass out." You rolled your eyes, and Connie went back to rolling up a blunt. "I haven’t seen you in a while, what’s up with you?" You shrugged, not knowing what Connie was talking about. "Connie, I saw you like two weeks ago, and it's finals week you already know." Connie copied your actions and shrugged his shoulders. "So? You only wanna see me when you want weed". You giggled and connie rolled his eyes licking the blunt, making sure it was perfect for you. "How much do I owe you?" Connie handed you the blunt and his lighter while shaking his head. "We’re sharing it, so it’s free." Connie studied you as you lit up the blunt and took the first hit.
"You’re so far. Com'ere." Connie patted his thigh, so you climbed over to him. "This my hoodie?" You nodded, and Connie smiled; he loved seeing you in his clothes. Connie’s hand snaked around your waist, giving you a light squeeze. "You gonna be at Eren’s party this weekend?" Connie nodded, handing you back the blunt. "Gotta sell some product." You hummed, caressing Connie’s soft face. "I don’t wanna go, Eren’s parties are wack." Connie chuckled. If it wasn’t for Eren’s wack parties, you wouldn’t have met. "Stay in your dorm; I’ll come stay the night after I’m done there." You hummed while Connie caressed your waist.
"How are your finals going?" Connie lifted your head from his chest, giving you back the blunt, but you shook your head, signaling him to put it out. "They’ve been okay. I was studying for my last one when I texted you. How are yours going?" Connie took a minute before he replied. "I’ve been stressed mami, but I know that I can pass." You smiled, hearing Connie talk about himself and his abilities that way. "When we pass, let’s celebrate and get some ice cream." Connie kissed your lips repeatedly while you giggled in between each kiss. "I gotta get back to studying." You and Connie pouted like little kids, but he let you go without a fight. He opened the driver’s door for you so you didn’t have to climb back over to the passenger side. "Bye, papa." You gave Connie one more kiss before closing his door. Connie rolled down his window to hand you another pre-roll because why not. "Connie, I ain’t paying for this." He chuckled while rolling his eyes. "I wasn’t planning on charging you, but if you don’t kiss me again, you’re gonna have to pay."
"You’re so annoying." You gave Connie a few more kisses before walking back to your dorm building. Connie stayed parked until you walked in and texted him that you were inside your room.
yn I’m in my room.
Thank you.
con Of course mama.
I’ll see you this weekend.
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☆ an; HAVENT WROTE FOR AOT IN A WHILE and ik this is short but gonna post p3 of love talk soon but will also be deleting 90s love from all platforms since I don't know where to take it sorry yall
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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collision || h.js
pairing: virgin!fratboy!han jisung x best friend!reader
summary: jisung's fraternity brothers decide to pool their money and surprise him with a stripper for his birthday! nice gesture and all, but that stripper just so happens to be his best friend...
warnings: swearing, a little bit of mention of stigma towards sex workers at the end, smut (18+ ; minors dni)
additional warnings: lap dancing, dry humping
word count: 3k
Jisung’s blood ran cold as he stared at you from the opposite side of the room. A similar look of shock graced your features for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a smile, a fake one if Jisung had ever seen one. 
To be fair he had imagined this exact scenario- you in lingerie, standing in the middle of his living room- hundreds of times. But in those fantasies, the room wasn’t also full of a dozen or so of his friends.
When Jisung’s fraternity brothers told him they had a “surprise” for his birthday he knew it couldn’t be anything good but he certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend to be the hired... entertainment for the party he hadn’t even wanted. 
“Should we leave them alone?” Minho, one of the older boys, teases. 
“We don’t get to watch?” Jeongin whines. 
“Nah, Hannie’s too shy for that.”
“That, and we only bought a private dance because it was the cheapest option,” Chris mutters under his breath, hopefully not loud enough for you to hear. 
“Let’s go into the other room, then,” Hyunjin says, finally drawing all of the attention away from you. “The others are waiting for us and we haven’t finished mixing all the drinks yet. The birthday boy can join us later.”
There’s some grumbling as the boys shuffle out of the room but they do make their exit, leaving you alone with Jisung. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday?” you offer with an awkward chuckle. 
“This is why you couldn’t come tonight?” 
“I was going to join later!” you correct him. “But yes, this is why I was going to be late.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you I had to work! I didn’t know it was you!”
“They didn’t... give you my name or anything?” Jisung realizes as he’s speaking that he doesn���t really know how your client intake works. Is there a form they fill out? Or do they just Venmo you and give you an address? Surely not, right? That would be dangerous. There had to be more to it than that. 
“They called you ‘Late Bloomer’,” you mutter, staring at the floor. “Said I’d know you when I saw you.”
Jisung’s cheeks burned and he scoffs. “Ironic. Yeah, that’s what the guys call me because they know, um, about...”
“You don’t have to say it!” you blurt. “I already know. That’s a really mean nickname.”
“All the pledges get nicknames like that,” he sighs. “Sometimes they don’t wear off after initiation.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You had taken a couple of steps closer to where he was sitting while you talked but you were still several feet apart. 
“Uh, well did you still want me to-”
“No!” Jisung shouts, cringing when he hears himself. “No, oh my god. You don’t have to do that.”
“I mean, it’s what I’m getting paid to do,” you point out. “Do you want your brothers’ money to go to waste?”
“I don’t give a fuck about their money.”
“So you don’t want me to?”
He’s sweating now. He feels it on his brow. “No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
And I don’t want to cum my pants the minute you sit on my lap. 
You laugh. “Nothing can be more uncomfortable than what just happened in front of your, uh, friends.”
You had a point. “You don’t think it’ll make things... weird?” Jisung asks. 
You shrug. “Things are already weird, aren’t they? But if you don’t want me to, I'll go get dressed and we can join the rest of them at the party.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to!” Jisung clarifies. “I mean, I’ve always been curious about... how your sessions go, like what happens and stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or that I want you to if that makes sense. Like I don’t want you to think I’m a creep-”
“Jisung.”
“Huh?”
“Instead of a real dance, why don’t I just demonstrate for you? Show you what I do, like you said?”
That didn’t sound too dangerous. 
“O-ok. You don’t have to do it on me, though. You can just, like, use a chair?”
You give him a small smile and nod. “Sure.”
There are lots of chairs to choose from but you pick the closest and drag it in front of where Jisung is sitting. You spin it so that the back is facing him and then run to get something from the bag that you’d dropped by the door when you came in. 
Jisung tries not to look at your ass as you bend down and rifle through the tote, training his eyes on the ceiling instead. He’d already been struggling not to get hard this whole time and it was about to get a whole lot harder, metaphorically and literally. 
You come back with a speaker and set it up on the floor under the chair. 
“Usually I put on some music,” you explain. “I’ll sit on the guy’s lap and ask him what he likes to listen to.” You sit sideways on the chair and cross your legs, pretending like there’s a man underneath you. “Whatever he says doesn’t matter to me, though. I just pick whatever I want to dance to and pretend his answer influenced my decision so he feels like he gets to have a say in the matter. Men like to feel special like that.”
Jisung nods along. You look up to check that he’s following before moving on. 
“Then I’ll stand back up, like this, and start dancing. Most girls dance in front of them first, to make them want it more. I used to get really self-conscious about that part because it feels silly to me but it really pays off in the end.”
Jisung gulps and nods again. He watches you sink to your knees and arch backward, spreading your thighs wider as your back touches the floor. He had no idea you were so flexible, no idea you could move like that, though he supposes he should have assumed considering you literally do this for a living. 
“And then right before I get back on his lap I’ll take off my top. Usually, it’s like a bra or something but sometimes I’m wearing a bodysuit and I’ll just pull it down.”
He doesn’t expect you to actually do it but you do. You reach behind yourself and pull on the ribbon holding the corset you were wearing together until it unravels and you can take it off. 
Jisung immediately averts his eyes, going as far as shielding his vision with a hand.
“Oh my god!” 
He hears you laughing. “They’re just boobs.”
Yeah, your boobs. 
“I thought you wanted me to show you how I usually do it,” you chide. 
Jisung hesitantly turns his head to face you again. He stares you right in the eyes, pointedly ignoring everything below your neck. “I didn’t think you would actually, um, strip.”
Your teasing smile falters. “Do you want me to put it back on? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No! You don’t have to. I’m not uncomfortable.” You look like you don’t believe him so he adds, “I just wanted to be respectful and stuff, you know?”
You roll your eyes. “You’re sweet. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen me topless before. We’ve known each other for so long.”
Jisung is in so much pain. “Haha, yeah me too.”
You approach the chair and straddle it like you would if someone was actually sitting there. Since there isn’t, you fold your arms on the back of it and rest your chin on your wrists. 
“I always lay some ground rules before I start, even if they’re a regular.”
“Ground rules?” Jisung asks. 
You nod. “They’re not allowed to touch me whatsoever. I’ll touch them unless they request otherwise, but only on the face and the shoulders, sometimes the chest. I’m not going to grope them or anything like that, even though I am grinding on them.” You demonstrate with the air, pretending to cup someone’s face and bring it closer to yours before pushing them away. “The whole thing is essentially just teasing someone for however long they booked me for.”
“Are there any other rules?” Jisung asks, trying to seem engaged and eager to learn more about your profession instead of focusing on how you’re riding that chair. 
“Yeah, one of my biggest rules is that the client has to stay fully clothed the whole time. There are exceptions like if they’re wearing a tie, I might loosen it or undo it. I’ve worn their ties myself once or twice.”
“Has anyone ever, um,” he pauses. 
You cock your head to the side in intrigue. “Has anyone ever what?”
“Has anyone ever like, cum? While you’re doing that?”
“It’s happened before. But they usually try not to because they’d have to pay me more. It’s in my contract. It’s also really embarrassing for them and it’s unsanitary- I won’t get into the details but it’s not very common.”
It definitely would have happened to Jisung if he had gone through with it. Honestly, it would probably happen if anyone were to give him a lap dance, but if it was you? He wouldn’t stand a chance. 
“But it’s normal for guys to get, like, hard, right?”
“Oh yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Anyone would get turned on if someone was grinding on them. Sometimes it happens before I’m even on their lap, like you’re hard right now and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Wha-” Jisung’s neck snaps as he looks to confirm what he already knows to be true. He rushes to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands even though it’s way too late for that. “Fuck, I didn’t- it doesn’t-”
You brush it off. “Don’t worry, Ji. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to seeing something arousing. It means I’m good at my job.”
“No, but I’m your best friend! God, you must feel so objectified and weird...”
“Jisung, I promise I don’t feel weird or objectified. Is this too weird for you? Do you want to stop?”
“I- uh, I don’t know,” he admits. Obviously he likes what he sees, his hard dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans is proof enough of that. But he’s also never felt so embarrassed in his life. It feels so... wrong of him to be taking advantage of the situation like this. He should have taken up your offer to go join the rest of his brothers at the party because now he’s fucked. He’s a weak, weak man.  “Are you sure you’re okay with... it?” 
“Of course,” you assure him. “That’s the point of this birthday present anyway.”
Maybe, but it wasn’t supposed to be a present from you. Jisung is so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions that he can’t even focus on what you’re doing anymore. He zones out, willing his erection to go down until he remembers that he’s supposed to be paying attention. He’s supposed to be learning. 
“So I go back and forth between grinding on the guy and dancing in front of him so it doesn’t get too intimate, and then towards the end I usually- fuck, it’s kind of hard to do when there isn’t someone actually here.” He watches you stand up and approach him. “Do you mind if I just....” you trail off expectantly. 
Are you asking what Jisung thinks you’re asking? Is whatever it is you’re trying to show him so important that you need to torture him further?
“If you just what?” 
“If I sit on your lap for this part? It’ll be quick, I swear.”
“Go ahead,” Jisung says before he can argue with himself. 
He had already dug his grave, he might as well bury himself too. 
You take a deep breath before placing a hand on each of his shoulders for balance and lowering yourself onto his lap. His legs are spread a bit so they’re kind of awkward to straddle but you’re used to it so it’s easy to adjust. 
“Wow, you are hard,” you breathe out, laughing a little. 
Jisung wants to die. He takes a deep breath of his own and steels himself before asking, “what was it that you wanted to show me?”
Your eyes light up like you had forgotten why you were sitting on him in the first place. “Oh, right. I put the music on a timer to fade out at the end of the session so when that happens I’ll grab the guy’s face like this,” you take Jisung by the cheeks and squeeze so that he’s forced to open his mouth. 
He wonders briefly if you’re about to spit in his mouth but to his disappointment you make him bite down on a piece of paper instead. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and reaches up to pluck whatever it is from between his lips.
“What is this?”
“My business card!” you exclaim. “Smart right? I wanted to do something memorable and so far it’s gotten over fifty percent of my clients to become repeat customers.”
Jisung snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely that and not the fact that you’re hot and have your tits out.”
“It’s all part of the sell,” you joke.
“Well, I can see why you’re working all the time,” Jisung quips. “You’re very good at what you do.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Of course I do.”
“I’m just sorry I ruined your birthday present,” you sigh. 
Jisung frowns. “What do you mean? You didn’t ruin it.”
“Yeah, I did! If your friends had hired someone else you would have gotten a real lap dance, not... an instructional.”
“I didn’t even know that’s what I was supposed to be getting! I didn’t know they had hired anyone!”
“Still, it could have been fun.”
“No, this was fun. I’m glad it was you.”
The worry line between your eyebrows softens and you smile fondly at him, making Jisung’s stomach do a somersault. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that was what affected him the most. 
He doesn’t know how much time passes but suddenly your expression changes. Your gaze shifts from relaxed to focused as you sit up and lean in, closer and closer until your nose is pressed to his. Jisung doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to break the spell. His fists clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides. He’s desperate to touch you, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him, but he won’t break your rule unless you give him permission. 
You break it for him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.
“Is this okay?” you whisper. 
He nods, his forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive.”
You swallow hard, eyes searching his for something he isn’t sure he has. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Jisung has fantasized about this moment countless times and not a single one compares to it. Your lips are soft and warm and you taste like that chapstick you always keep in your pocket. Jisung recognizes it immediately because he’s borrowed it more than a few times. 
You moan and run a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. It’s gotten a lot longer recently but you seem to like it. In fact, part of the reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you keep complimenting the way he’s been styling it. He wonders if you like how it feels between your fingers. 
To his own surprise, Jisung is the first to use tongue. He feels your lips part and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between them like you had with your business card. You moan again and this time you grind down on his lap for real. 
It catches you both off guard. Jisung’s hips follow the movement of yours, chasing your heat even when you lift yourself off of him in a panic. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t be,” he murmurs, trying to hide a smug grin, “it’s a perfectly normal reaction.”
Your eyes narrow at him. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Mhm- mph!” You kiss him before he can get another word out, this time shoving your tongue in his mouth. 
Now that you know it’s okay to grind on him, you don’t hold back. You seem so eager. If Jisung didn’t know better he’d think this had been your plan all along. 
“God, baby,” he whimpers, shocked at how shattered his own voice sounds. “This feels so good but if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” he can’t bring himself to say it. “I’m not going to last.”
You slow down and lift your head from the crook of his shoulder. “Do you want to stop?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know how far you’re okay with going but...”
“We can go as far as you want, Ji. You’re the one...” you don’t finish the sentence but Jisung knows what you’re implying. It isn’t hard to guess. It’s why he’d been given that stupid nickname freshman year. 
“You’d... you’d want me in that way?” he asks. He’s almost afraid of the answer because he doesn’t think you feel the same way about him. Even if you are down to fuck, he doesn’t think it’s because you have a big giant crush on him like he does you. Maybe you’re just horny or maybe you’d be doing it as a favor.
“Of course.” It’s not an answer that quells the burning questions he’s been holding onto since he met you but it does enough to temper the flames a bit. You want him. It’s enough. “But... you don’t care that your first time would be with a stripper?” 
He knows that’s not what you mean. He knows you’re worried that he feels like it’s inorganic. That it’s part of the job you had been hired to do. But he knows the truth. That isn’t what it is at all. 
He shakes his head. “My first time would be with my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather it be with.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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risuola · 5 months
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ENTRY #4 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // Your fingertips brought me back from the death.
contents: arranged marriage!au, slight hurt-comfort — wc. 921
series masterlist
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„It hurts, Satoru.”
Pain. Agonizing, paralyzing pain was something Gojo had to teach himself to live with. He wouldn’t tell anyone, he’s the strongest, the honored one, he’s… a human. No matter how trained he was, how much control over his own body he had, how efficiently he managed his cursed energy, he never learned how to deal with the side effects of the cursed blessing he inherited.
It felt like he’s dying. Every time his six eyes were put to work for more than enough, a part of him was begging for an end to the suffering he had to endure. He felt like his head was splitting open from the inside out, like his brain was bleeding, his eyes were burning. He could feel the pounding of his heartbeat, fast and uneven, in his temples, ears and neck; he was sweating and frowning. He was miserable. Vulnerable. He couldn’t focus on anything and every move he made only made the anguish worse. It was a misery. Excruciation. But then–
“What do you think you’re doing?”
–then your soft, warm palms planted themselves on top of his closed lids oh so gently and Satoru realized that he held your wrist in an iron grip – a defense mechanism he couldn’t control whenever anyone got too close to his eyes. With his infinity turned off, he felt helpless against your touch, but submitted himself to your mercy and it tingled. An odd sensation that seemed to envelop his head in a protective hood of something he couldn’t understand slowly soothed the torment inside his skull. The pounding mellowed and the muscles between his brows and in his shoulders began to relax underneath the calming influence of your doing.
Satoru let out a shaky breath, one that he just noticed he was holding in, and his fingers that once wrapped around the fragile bones of your forearm now shifted to the top of your knuckles, greedy to hold your hands there longer. His senses were calming, coming to the sharpness he’s used to have and slowly he started registering more than just the balm of your hands. Slowly he became aware of you. The subtle, sweet scent of your perfume mixed with equally pleasant, slightly flowery note of washing detergent you bought recently – the one he had to carry for you the other day because you had enough bags in your hands and texted him for help. He felt the softness of your stomach against the top of his hair as you stood behind the couch on top of which he was sitting, with his head tilted back.
“You’re hurting. I’m helping you,” and the melody of your voice, quieted and gentle that now he was finally able to hear clearly once the echo of his own heartbeat stopped deafening his eardrums.
Satoru couldn’t tell what you were doing. He felt the very distinct signature of your cursed energy flowing through your palms but it wasn’t something he could recognize. He also couldn’t tell what gave away his suffering – was it the way he entered the house that day? After a week-long job outside the city, he dropped his coat and kicked off the shoes and then, without acknowledging you he nearly collapsed onto the couch. It wasn’t the first time he ignored you and surely it wasn’t the first time he was in pain in your presence. Maybe the grunt he let out when dropping his weight onto the cushions made it too obvious that he was in agony?
“How do you know I’m hurting?” He asked, too curious, too unsure to let the question go.
“You’re always hurting after those longer jobs,” you replied and he hummed, perplexed to realize that you’ve been seeing his misery before. “It’s the six eyes, right? Your head hurts when you overuse it.” Your words made him speechless; the tone you used – full of care and concern, it got him frozen for a moment or two. “You saved me many times, so I learned this to save you.”
“You learned this for me?”
“I did,” you let out a soft chuckle, the kind that flows on top of a breath without much sound to it. You moved your hands a little, resting your thumbs on top of his skin and moving them in little circles, rubbing the tension away from his forehead and temples. It felt intimate in a way and Satoru wasn’t used to stripping his infinity off to connect with other humans in such private level. “I wasn’t sure if it’s even going to work. I couldn’t test it before because it only applies to you.”
“A technique that works only on me?” He repeated the words that didn’t make sense in his mind. Why would you go so far for him? He wasn’t a man you chose to spend your life with, he wasn’t even good to you. “How?”
“Well, it’s a little mix of my cursed technique and yours and subconsciously you allowed my energy to enter your head and release the tension that built up after you overused your eyes. It’s not really reversed cursed technique, I don’t know how to explain this… but all that matter is that it works,” you concluded with a soft sigh of relief.
“Why?”
“Because I’m your wife, Satoru. Because you carry enough weight on your shoulders to pay the price of saving the world. Because you don’t have to be the strongest all the time and you don’t have to do this alone.”
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taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @ae-mius
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year
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Hello ❤️
Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage
Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.
It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.
It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.
But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.
That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.
He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.
Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "
He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.
When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.
"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.
Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.
He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.
He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.
One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.
He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.
When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.
His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.
Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.
Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.
He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.
Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.
He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.
After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.
He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.
He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.
He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.
His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.
Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?
"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.
Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."
The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.
Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.
Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.
"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."
"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.
"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."
"I won't go back to the stupid system."
"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."
The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"
Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."
It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.
The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.
Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.
Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"
Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."
Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."
Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."
"How good is he?"
"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."
Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."
Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.
But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.
He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.
Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.
He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.
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she-is-ovarit · 2 years
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Please hear me.
Being tired isn't normal. It doesn't matter that you're aging. Being fatigued is a serious sign.
It might be difficult to judge "normal tired" from "bad tired". Rule of thumb is that if you notice that other people seem to be on another plane of existence with alertness, you're not "normal tired".
I slept for 10-12 hours a day at least and still was tired for most of the day but "functioned" (went to work).
It turns out it wasn't just one thing. It was a lot of things. I went on liquid vitamins first because that's all I had energy for—to throw money at something that can be delivered to me. And it was crucial. I went off my heart medication after my doctor let me know my active heart rate was way too low (prior to the vitamins). I felt super improved and this went from feeling super improved to extremely improved after I began to eat more healthy fats (avocados, eggs, nuts, vegetarian-friendly animal products). I cannot emohasize the eating more fats thing enough. Did you know that due to our biology women are supposed to have way more healthy fats than what we're typically told?
I had struggled with other symptoms I brushed off as normal too. My hands and feet being cold all the time. Turns out this wasn't normal. How many women and girls have cold hands and feet constantly? I was "adoringly clumsy". Balance issues from vitamin B12 deficiency. Foot cramps. Magnesium deficiency. Generalized anxiety disorder. Still have it, but significantly improved because my body isn't fighting for it's life. Lack of focus/concentration issues to the point where I worried I had ADHD or something since that's all I know about that mental health condition.
Constant cravings I blamed on emotional eating. Increasing my healthy fat intake all about cured this—helped more than protein. I began to lose weight when I increased my healthy fats because I was no longer seeking out sugar or bad fats. Iron deficiency and vitamin D3 deficiencies were also confirmed on blood tests before I started liquid vitamins.
When I went off my heart med and bought those dumb electrolyte packets for my water, my arrhythmia is now hardly noticeable physically.
And to circle back—I am awake. And I sometimes break down and cry because I can't believe how I was functioning now that I understand what having energy feels like. I didn't know. I didn't know there was even anything wrong with me. I thought I was just a tired person. That being tired was normal to being female and aging.
Chronic fatigue is extremely serious. It's not normal. You're not just a tired person.
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solar-wing · 11 months
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⚣ Domestic Living With Jason 🩳
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⚣🩳 A/N → I'm physically incapable of writing anything under 500 words. But, this was inspired by my love of compression shirts (especially the Under Armor ones and how I would do exactly this if my boyfriend tried to walk out wearing one). May start a series off this, we'll see. Warnings: Domestic Vibes. Married Energy. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Petty Jason.
⚣🩳 Summary → Domestic life is something. Domestic life with Jason Todd is another thing. One moment, you're ready to fight this man. Next moment, you're ready to fight this man. *wink wink* Wait, hold up. Jason, what the hell are you wearing?!
⚣🩳 Words → 1.5K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🩳
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“Jason, hurry up! I need to get back so I can finish this essay.” Y/N yelled from the living room of his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment.
If you asked him a year ago what he figured living with his boyfriend would be like, he’d more than likely answer with a lot of freaking sex. Of course, other things came with it, but that was the first thing that always came to mind.
It also came with a lot of stay-at-home dates. Jason was unsurprisingly a natural homebody and loved to spend his evenings when he could with his lovely boyfriend cuddled against his body while watching a movie or playing a game and munching down on some takeout.
Truthfully, it was nice seeing how Jason was in a domestic situation. It served as a reminder to Y/N that under all those scars, grumpiness, and tough exterior was just a boy who wanted to be loved.
On the other end, living with Jason made Y/N take a long, hard look in the mirror and reflect on all the bad habits he had when living at home with his parents and starting college. For example, time management…
Before he started dating Jason, Y/N was the kind of person who waited till twenty minutes before he had to leave to start getting dressed. Whenever someone would text him and ask for his location, he’d respond telling them he was leaving the house now.
Then, when he was actually leaving the house and they’d text him again, he’d respond saying he was on the freeway. Truly, the best example of what not to do when he wanted to be on time somewhere.
After he started dating Jason though, and especially when they moved in together, Y/N sent a long apology to his parents who had tried for years to teach him better time management. The crazy thing about that was when they asked him why he was apologizing and he explained that Jason’s time management made him look like an angel, they didn’t believe him!
In their eyes, Jason was a saint who could do no wrong. Which was ironic considering Y/N’s dad promised to castrate any man who dared even look his son’s way. And his mom, well, not sure that’s really appropriate to mention.
Yet, when it came to Mr. Jason Peter Todd, he might as well have been hand-delivered from God himself. Maybe it was because his boyfriend could and would be late to anything else in the world (Lord knows Bruce went through hell and back just to get him to be on time for family dinner), but if it was anything involving Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, he was twenty minutes early with a gift he picked up from the local Target.
It also could be that Jason was the world’s biggest kiss-ass (when he needed to be) and used that to wrap Y/N’s parents around his finger. Either or…
But now, since they were only going to the gym, Jason was of course taking his sweet time to get ready, which, every passing second was another snap of one of Y/N’s nerves. Truthfully, he would’ve just grabbed his keys and left without him, but the last time he did that, Jason went and bought a steering-wheel clutch to put on his car and hid the keys from him for two weeks.
Another thing Y/N’s parents would never believe about their son’s beloved boyfriend; the fucker was petty as hell.
“I’m coming, babe! Be out in a sec,” Jason yelled from behind their bedroom door.
“You said that five minutes ago!”
“Sorry, I don’t recall. Maybe you imagined it.”
This gaslighting motherfu–
Y/N had to take a deep breath to calm his growing impulsive need to bust down that door and slap the fuck out of his boyfriend’s neck. It didn’t help…
“You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend,” Y/N mumbled to himself while tapping his foot against the floor repeatedly to distract himself from the ticking seconds passing by in his mind.
Two minutes later, the door opened and revealed his tall and bulky man looking ever so fresh and handsome. Though Y/N was still irritated beyond belief, the sight of his boyfriend’s handsome face who grew a smile and twinkle in his eyes when he looked at him always managed to dissipate his temper.
Not by much though. Jason’s neck still looked like a very bright and large target just waiting for a good sting from the palm of his hands.
Maybe Tim was right, they were a match made in heaven just off violent tendencies alone.
“That was not a sec,” Y/N reprimanded in a grumble.
Jason’s smile turned into a self-satisfied grin while he walked past his boyfriend to their coat closet, grabbing his abnormally large gym shoes. Seriously, what size is this man’s foot?
“Hey, it’s not my fault you waited till the last day to finish your homework.” He replied while tying his shoe.
“Um, actually it is. Every time I tried to sit down and work on it, you’d either start complaining about how I wasn’t paying any attention to you or you’d get randomly horny and start touching me in ways that shall not be named and I’d end up with your dick inside me.”
Y/N immediately regretted his words when he saw how Jason looked up from finishing his last shoe, a lustful blown look on his face as he eyed his body up and down. Thankfully, he didn’t seem like he was about to act on his impulses as he kept tying his shoe without looking before standing back up.
Why was that hot?
“Sounds like you need to practice self-control, sir.”
Oh, no he didn’t.
“Sir, I was already tempted to smack the back of your neck before. I beg you to not increase that urge.”
“Do it. I dare you,” Jason challenged, standing right in front of him with his towering frame. The tone in his voice and the look on his face were signaling something that Y/N was very tempted to answer, but he had to keep rationality in the forefront of his mind.
“You not worth it,” He responded, side-stepping him while going to grab his jacket.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
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“Sir, don’t get fu–”
It was at that moment Y/N took a full look at his boyfriend, specifically what he was wearing. And while the sight was something he wouldn’t mind staring at, he definitely didn’t want other people staring at him.
“Excuse me, but what in the hell are you wearing?” Y/N asked, still looking him up and down.
Jason looked confused for a moment, also looking at his outfit, not seeing what the problem was.
“Um, a shirt and sweats? Is this a trick question or,”
“Why is it so tight? Who are you trying to show off for?”
This man was wearing a black compression shirt and gray joggers like it was just a regular Sunday. The Lord is watching, how dare he?!
Jason’s smirk immediately came back when he realized what he was really about, “Oh, what? I can’t wear tight clothes now to the gym?”
“Not unless you want me to fight bitches. Because, just in case you forgot, I do fight bitches.”
“Language, or I’m telling mom. And I like it when you fight over me,” He said while grabbing at Y/N’s waist.
He immediately popped the vigilante’s hands off him, “Don’t involve my mother in and hands off mister.”
“Our mother, thank you,” Jason corrected.
“It’s giving incestuous, and last time I checked, there is no ring on this finger and my last name is not Todd.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Y/N was sat.
“I-, that was really hot and we’re gonna move on from that,” Y/N responded, and Jason once again had a cocky smirk on his face. Lord knows this man was more than likely dead serious. He’d drop everything and drive to a ring shop right now.
“Anyway, you need to go change sir. I don’t need them dirty, mud-bathing rats staring at what is for my eyes only.” Y/N responded, pointing back to their bedroom waiting for Jason to move.
“Oh, so I need to go change, but when you were wearing those tiny shorts, showing off what’s supposed to be for my eyes only, I got told to mind the business that pays me,” Jason asked with a laugh.
“Are you on my payroll?” Y/N questioned.
“No.”
“My point still stands.”
“You think you’re funny,”
“I think I’m hilarious, actually. In fact, I’m so funny, I’m going to get the extra small shorts I just got in the mail since you want to play with me.” Y/N turned around and sprinted for their bedroom.
“Oh, I’ll play all day,” Jason mumbled under his breath before throwing their gym bags down to the ground and kicking off his shoes before following his boyfriend into the room.
They did not make it to the gym, but they definitely got their workout in.
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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wilwheaton · 7 months
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youtube
I have a small part in the 1987 television movie (failed pilot) version of The Man Who Fell To Earth. Lewis Smith played the titular character. Beverly D'Angelo played my mom, his love interest. (Fun Star Trek connection: Bob Picardo is also in it).
My character was a Troubled Youth, which I gotta tell you was not a stretch for me at all. I was deeply, deeply hurting at the time we made it. I was struggling not to suffocate on all the emotional and financial burdens my mom put on my shoulders, and fully aware of just how much my dad hated and resented me. You need a kid who doesn't want to be an actor, whose eyes can't hide the pain? I'm your guy.
Anyway, one of the scenes I was in took place in a record store, where Troubled Youth steals some albums, before he is chased by the cops and saved by the Man Who Fell To Earth, who uses a glowing crystal to save his life from ... some scratches on his face.
We filmed the interior of the record store at Sunset and La Brea, in what I think was a Warehouse, and at the end of the day, I was allowed to buy some records at a modest discount.
I was deep into my metal years, on my way from my punk years to my New Wave years, so I only bought metal albums. I know I bought more than I needed or could carry (I was making a point that I was allowed to spend my own money, mom), but the only ones I can clearly remember are:
Iron Maiden - Piece of Mind
Judas Priest - Turbo and Defenders of the Faith
W.A.S.P - The Last Command
(I know this was in March of 1987, because Turbo had just come out.)
Of those, Piece of Mind is the only one I never really stopped listening to, even through all the different it's-not-a-phase phases. I still listen to it, today.
Ever since I became an Adult with a Fancy Adult Record Player And All That Bullshit, I have kept my records in two places: stuff I want right now, and stuff I keep in the library because of Reasons.
Generally, records move in one direction toward the library, even if it takes years to happen. I just don't accumulate albums like I once did, because I'm Old and set in my ways.
Earlier today, I decided that I wanted to listen to an album while I cleaned up the kitchen, and because I wanted to make my life more interesting, I opened the library cabinet for the first time in at least five years.
There was the very same W.A.S.P album from that day in March, 1987. I don't have any of the others -- I looked -- but The Last Command was right there.
Before I really knew what I was doing, I put it on the Fancy Adult Record Player and dropped the needle.
I watched four decades of dust build up with a satisfying crackle, and there was something magical and beautiful about hearing all the skips and the scratches, realizing I remembered them from before.
The title track was just as great as I remembered it. It struck all the same chords in me that it did in the late nineteen hundreds. The rest of the first side was ... um. It just didn't connect with me, and for the few moments I spent trying to find a connection, I don't think it ever really did. I would remember.
But I did remember how much I loved making those mix tapes, and what a big part of them that song was. I did remember how empowering it felt to not just spend my own money that I earned doing work I didn't want to do, but to spend it on music my parents hated, right under their noses. I did remember how impressed Robby Lee was, when I showed him my extensive heavy metal album collection.
Remembering all of that, in one of those cinematic flashes of rapid cut visuals and sped up sounds, told me why I kept this record, while I gradually sold or replaced the other records I bought that day with CDs, then mp3s, then lossless digital files, before finally coming all the way back to records, where I started.
I didn't listen to the second side. I didn't need to. I took it off the Fancy Adult Record Player, and put it back into the library, next to the George Carlin records.
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genoskissors · 5 months
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Finally done! Thank you everyone for your patience!
Principal Monokuma’s Room Check!
Trigger Happy Havoc Boys
THH Girls Rooms
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There are a few notes throughout to explain some things I thought most would not know (like Japanese traditions) or just to clarify things changed in localization.
Naegi-kun’s Room Edition
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Sigh. It’s the private room where a high school boy spends his agonizing nights, even so, what’s with this plainness!? Why don’t you have something more shameful or embarrassing!? Naegi-kun, I’m disappointed in you!
Checkpoints: A: It’s the memo pad I prepared. It would be nice if it had Hope’s Peak Academy’s school emblem on it, to give it a rich feeling.
B: This is the key to the room. It has a key holder with the appropriate name on it. It cannot be bought and is very sophisticated, so improper usage is prohibited!
C: It’s a mock sword that was kept on the display shelf. Even though it was only decoration, it was carefully displayed, so an incident happened. Upupupu.
D: I heard that mysterious curly hair grows in boys’ rooms. An adhesive lint roller is useful for frequent cleaning! I’m so attentive! Note: Don't really know what this means, I think it might be referencing Junko's hair.
Ishimaru-kun’s Room Edition
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It’s a room filled with study materials and is well organized, just as one would expect from a serious person like Ishimaru-kun’s room. Hmm~ If you spend all your energy on this, you won’t be able to focus on the killing game!
Checkpoints: A: Dictionaries and reference books are the most exciting when lined up neatly on your desk. Huh? Are you using them properly? Hee~...
B: He irons his uniform every day. Also, the armbands as well, so you know he really likes this things.
C: A New Year’s tradition, Kakizome. I suggest “In early spring, be careful of bears, as they can get ferocious!” Huh? Aren’t you going to start writing?
D: What kind of guy likes to swing around a bamboo sword even though he isn’t part of the kendo club? Do you stand on the ground, put your forehead on it, and spin around to split a watermelon? Note: This is a Japanese game called Suikawari.
Togami-kun’s Room Edition
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Genuine rich people tend to seek a more modest sense of luxury rather than those who are nouveau riche. I have no clue how much Togami-kun’s room actually costs. Note: “Nouveau riche” refers to people who become rich themselves and “genuine rich people” refers to people who were born into a rich family, like Byakuya.
Checkpoints: A: It’s a violin or something. Famous ones can be worth billions. That’s more expensive than the famous Chinese medicine, bear bile, which is very pricey, roar! Note: Based on the phrase "violin or something" it's likely a viola. That's just my theory though.
B: There is nothing more difficult than determining the value of a painting. In many cases, collecting these masterpieces is not about appreciating art, but investing in it.
C: Ahaha! A red carpet laid out from the entrance, Togami-kun must be kidding me! That’s what the life of stardom is about!
D: The famous line “I will kill you, without fail!” is what makes Togami’s glasses indispensable! I can’t believe he has 10 of them, that’s quite a thorough preparation!
Oowada-kun’s Room Edition
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I believe that biker gangs are a style and a fashion. That’s why it’s necessary for those who call themselves bikers to have an easy-to-understand logo or item that appeals to everyone. Upupu.
Checkpoints: A: These are the big flags put on the back of bikes, aren’t they? I always wonder if they are safe from being blown away by the wind.
B: These are all motorcycle magazines, right? I’m not going to go as far as suggesting philosophy books or economic magazines, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to open a textbook once in a while?
C: Are you really satisfied with the 5G “ Cypress Stick”? Isn’t the 1500G “Steel Broadsword” the catharsis? Note: I’m pretty sure this is a Dragon Quest reference.
D: This is the colorful banner of Oowada’s gang, “Crazy Diamonds”. Hmm, you’re only really good at difficult kanji.
Kuwata-kun’s Room Edition
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Hey, Kuwata-kun, baseball doesn't even have a “ya” character! I know you don't like it, but now that you're at our school, maybe you could try to act like a baseball player, even if it's a front? Note: The Japanese word for baseball, Yakyuu (野球), has a “ya” in it, so I think Monokuma is just saying this to see if Leon will even care enough to react to his statement.
Checkpoints: A: Why do self-proclaimed punk fans like human skulls? A sea bream head has another sea bream inside, right? That's even more favorable! Note: I'm not gonna lie, I have no clue what that second sentence means. I think it relates to the saying “鯛の尾より鰯の頭”, but I still don't know how it correlates.
B: I want CDs and DVDs to come in splendid limited edition packaging, but they don’t fit neatly like this. How troubling.
C: Carrying your guitar case on your back and feeling tired as you walk around town is super cool. There was a time when I thought that way too.
D: In order to stand out and be popular, you need to have vocals. Kuwata-kun's purity is manly in a sense. I would like to hear his beautiful voice. Upupu.
Yamada-kun’s Room Edition
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A utopia making the world’s geeks water at the mouth, the pink love nest of Buuko and Yamada-kun. As a despair maniac, I am driven by a desire for a room devoted solely to my hobby. Note: Buuko is Princess Piggles in the localization.
Checkpoints: A: Hey, I’m giving it everything I got to ask this question, is this what Yamada-kun is wearing? Isn’t it self-indulgent to wear it on his 170cm and 155kg body!?
B: “MARTIAL ARTS LADIES”, “This time, I’ll punish you on the mat!”.  I don’t understand why martial arts cosplay makes your heart pound.
C: Some people say these sheets and body pillow are perverted, but the desire for skin contact is neither two-dimensional nor three-dimensional.
D: Three-dimensional objects have a sense of unity because they are equipped with a three-dimensional concept. The shading of light and the convergence of existence are astonishing (The following is omitted). Note: “The following is omitted” is just a way of saying Monokuma kept rambling.
Yasuhiro-kun's Room Edition
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Hagakure-kun’s love of fortune-telling is, quite honestly, shady, right? Even though he has all these tools, he still uses intuition to tell fortunes, doesn’t he? So, what in the world are these piles of junk for!?
Checkpoints: A: People with extremely dry skin tend to have a lot of wrinkles on their palms, which makes palm readers cry. It’s hard to even do fortune-telling these days.
B: Fortune-telling cards are great for mysteries and romance. If I sold "Monokuma’s Carefully Made Pure Gold Tarot", maybe I could make a profit. Upupupu.
C: If anything, Hagakure-kun has more of an oriental divination image. When I see tools like this, I want to display them in an alcove or something.
D: Come on! How many times do I have to say this!? When buying fortune-telling goods online, do not cash on delivery! This time, I was the one who paid for it too!
Fujisaki-kun’s Room Edition
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Even though he’s the Super High School Level Programmer, Fujisaki-kun actually has a variety of hobbies. That’s good, science... a science student! I want to learn many things from him.
Checkpoints: A: Three monitors and a luxurious-looking executive chair. He looks like a young company president or day trader. A serious side profile would be wonderful!
B: I don’t know what this is, but it looks amazing anyway! It looks like an ancient map or some other geeky item.
C: After people learn how to interact with the romantic hyperspace of the universe, their outlook on life changes drastically. That’s what I thought just now.
D: Tada! There are hand grips on the bed! It makes me tear up to know he was secretly training.
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moondirti · 1 year
Note
DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼
SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.
explicit (18+) | 1.5k words
part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far
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This is how it is with Miguel.
Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.
And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:
What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?
It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.
Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home. 
You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail. 
(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle. 
On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.) 
For now, though–
For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth. 
“You been working out, Mig?” 
“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off. 
“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through. 
“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.” 
“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.” 
“Of course.” 
His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit. 
The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity. 
It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether. 
“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.” 
No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence. 
“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you. 
“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless. 
“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.
“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.” 
“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”
“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”
“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it. 
That is, until–
“What do you need?” He asks.
Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival. 
“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer. 
And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.
“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.” 
And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.
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ja3yun · 10 months
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The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.4
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sim jaeyun x afab!reader
warnings: suggestive, heartache (lots of it), flirty heeseung bc i can't resist, angst, confrontations, pet names, ynjake are so obvious it hurts.
wc: 9.7k+
synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.
part 3 | part 5
a/n: so i was gonna stop this chapter earlier than it is here but I think having the last scene in this chapter makes sense! also I know nowt about physics so when they start talking about it just pretend it makes sense pls <3
In the guest room, Eunseo is deciding what to wear, it’s between her usual jeans and a crop top or playsuit she bought 2 years ago that she swears makes her look ‘snatched’. In your eyes, she always looks beautiful. “Why are you stressing? It’s just dinner.” 
“Um,” She looks at you like you have 12 heads, “YOU should be stressing, Heeseung and you are sat next to each other.” 
“Wait, what? We have designated seats?” You question.
Rolling her eyes she fixes her hair in the mirror, “Obviously, I mean, there are like 14 of us.” You knew that but no one came up with a breakfast seating plan so why now?
“I’m fine in this,” You look down at your midi dress and white cropped cardigan, “It’s simple and cute, and I am NOT trying to impress Hee.” You cross your arms to protest but Eunseo turns sharply and quips up, “You just called him Hee! That’s a nickname, see, destined to be.” If only she knew. In your defense, it was never that Heeseung was unattractive but Jaeyun was the only person you ever thought of, you didn’t have to think about anyone else. 
You point to the playsuit for her to choose. As she goes to get changed there is a knock at the door, “Come on in.” you say just lower than a shout and Mrs Sim walks into the room. Urgently, you stand up and brush yourself down, ironing out the creases as best you can, “Hi Mrs. Sim. What can I do you for?” 
“I’m just here to let you girls know that everyone is downstairs waiting for you.” She nods and eyes you up and down. “Tell Eunseo to hurry up please.” She smiles and goes to leave but you hold her arm to stop her.
“Why didn’t you use the money you saved up for this wedding?” You question, too impatient to wait and ask Heeseung later on. With a sigh she turns to you, cursing Heeseung’s name under her breath.
“She’s rich, I’m not, the family didn’t need my money.” Her face is screwed up, wanting to tell you more, wanting to tell you the truth, "Honestly, Y/N? We aren't thrilled with the wedding but at the end of the day it is happening. Nothing I can do."
“Mrs. Sim?” You call out to her as she is leaving, “I missed you.” 
Her shoulders slump but a smile adorns her face, “I missed you too, Y/N. More than anything.” As she finishes her sentence you rush to hug her tightly, making up for the lost years. “Shh.” Her hand strokes your back as you hold in your sobs, “You had your reasons,” Mrs. Sim pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes, “If those reasons don’t matter anymore, you should do what you think is best.” As you look at Jaeyun’s mother leave you take in her words and how she looked at you, like she was telling you a secret you didn’t know, and you’re still clueless. 
Eunseo emerges from the bathroom, dressed and ready for the night, “Ta-da!” 
You give her a thumbs up and a weak smile, “You look amazing.” She jumps happily and clasps her hands. “Then if we are both ready,” She reaches her hands to yours, “Let's go.”
Making your entrance to the dining room was weirdly calm, knowing you had Heeseung by your side set your mind at ease. Eunseo addresses everyone with a hello and bow and you follow, the whole family smiles and greets you. A single place next to Heeseung and…
Jaeyun.
“Shit” you mumble under your breath as you walk towards your seat, smiling at everyone as you pass. Heeseung’s hand strokes your hip, guiding you to your seat, “I was wondering when you were going to come down.” His smile dazzles up at you as you tuck your dress under and sit on the white satin seats. The set up for this dinner is a little fancy but this must just be how rich people did things.
“Eunseo takes forever to get dressed.” Playfully rolling your eyes you get comfy, ignoring the tempting presence to your right, but it’s harder than expected. Jaeyun is wearing beige trousers with a mint green jumper accented by a white collar, and he looks beautiful, like the sun on a cold winter day, “Hi, Jake.” 
His face frowns, not used to you calling him Jake, “Hello, Y/N.” His head tilts forward in your direction before facing forward pretending to listen to the conversation happening between his and Yeoreum’s parents. You want to reach out for his hand, tell him you missed him, tell him what a stupid mess you are, but as you stretch your hand out, Heeseung’s fingers interlock with yours. “Don’t” He whispers, pulling your body with his other hand to face him, “Focus on me, Y/N.” You nod and shift to Heeseung as he smiles, “You’re too close to the attentive members of the family, pretend I’m the one you want even for a few hours.” 
It takes all your will power but heading his advice, you focus on him. “Thank you, Hee.” 
Jaeyun hears it all, how Heeseung’s voice holds adoration, he sees how your fingers are intertwined. He is furious, his jaw clenched, and as much as he tries to remind himself he shouldn’t be possessive over you, it comes so naturally that he can’t help it. In every atom of his being, you are still his and he is still yours.
Heeseung’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand to settle your nerves. As Mr. and Mrs. Son bring out dinner, they place a vegetarian meal in front of you, and you glance at everyone else who has steak on their plate. You aren’t a vegetarian by any means but you are thankful since you hate red meat in general. But how did they know? You never told them about your distaste for red, especially bloody and rare, meat, and that's when a voice interjects your thoughts, “I told the cook you were veggie since you can’t eat any red meat that isn’t burnt to the heavens.” A chuckle follows the sentence and you turn to your side to face Jaeyun.
“Dig in!” Mrs. Son exclaims and gestures to the expansive amount of food in front of you all. You don’t know where to begin but Heeseung helps you as he picks up the bowl of marrowfat peas and scoops some onto your glistening white plate. You hold it up as he continues to pile the plate with food for you, not asking what you like because through what seemed like 20 million conversations about you with Jake, he learned enough about you. Heeseung sets the tongs and spoon down in their respective places and glances at you.
“Thank you.” your voice comes out no louder than a whisper. Just like the pepper incident earlier, Jaeyun knew you well enough to cater to your needs and it made your stomach flip. He nods courteously and faces his fiance once again, leaving you grateful but your heart is tired of pretending that his actions aren’t making you fall more in love with him. All the effort you made to try and bury your feelings deeply is unraveling with every passing moment. 
“That okay?” It was more than okay, he picked all your favourites, but you simply nodded and smiled at him in gratitude and he smiled at you briefly before eating the food in front of him.
This was abnormal for you. Your parents were loving and affectionate of course, but you never really had dinner like this, a feast upon your eyes and having the option to choose. Usually, your mum or dad would come home from work, come in, find something in the freezer, and shove it into the oven. Nothing fancy, nothing extraordinary, but enough. You were always grateful. 
“Baby, can you pass the salt?” Jaeyun says lowly and without thinking you reach out and pass him it, which he accepts gladly. You don’t notice the air shift until Heeseung’s eyes fall on you, wide and uncomfortable, and unfortunately, he isn’t the only one with that look on his face. As you scan around, half of the table, including Mr. and Mrs. Sim are looking at you incredulously, and then it dawns on you what you did. You aren’t his baby anymore. 
Jaeyun is none the wiser, pouring the problematic salt on his food before setting it down and digging into his food. Yeoreum side-eyes you both, and only you seem to notice, making you extra uncomfortable because at least if Jaeyun acknowledged it, you could both cover your asses together, but you guess this is up to you now.
“Oh um, the salt was just there, thought I would save Yeoreum the hassle.” You say not daring to look at anyone. Your voice sparks Jaeyun’s attention and all eyes shift to him, who simply looks at you with confusion, but when your eyes plead with him to say something he understands the gravitas of the situation, “Thanks, Y/N. I guess the salt was closer to you.” 
It’s innocent, the scenario that just happened, but after the whispers, the apple juice, and now this, someone could easily suspect something. You nod and go to eating your food, however, you still feel eyes on you. Yeoreum. Her gaze is too intense for you not to feel but you don’t chance a look at her.
“Come here.” Heeseung’s raspy voice flutters through your ears and you look at him, his face inches from your own and then, his lips on your forehead. They felt different, foreign compared to your ex-lovers, but pleasant. Heeseung and you had observing your surroundings as a common trait so when he saw Yeoreum eyeing you, he had to throw her for a curve.
Yeoreum’s eyes widen and fall back to normal in record time causing Jaeyun to follow her stare.
Red. He sees red as he witnesses another man’s lips on you, regardless of who it is, it should only be his. He grips his cutlery tightly and rips his gaze away before he does something crazy like grab his best friend and beat him to the last inches of his life. 
“Hee, it’s okay.” You smile and place a hand over his, “Let's eat, yeah?” Jaeyun scoffs and flicks his food across the plate, suddenly losing his appetite. Jaeyun has always been jealous, this isn’t new information to you, but it makes your brain wonder how he still gets riled up like this even though he isn’t yours anymore. 
Your hand instinctively wants to reach to Jaeyun again to reassure him, but you stop yourself, aware of how that would make the situation a million times worse but also, he wasn’t yours to comfort. 
The meal goes on and no one bats an eye at you anymore, well, the two boys beside you steal glances as you all eat, but the majority have disregarded salt-gate and you’re thankful. 
“Jake, how is the new job?” This is the first time you’ve heard about his new life outside Yeoreum as Mrs. Son asks him the dull question and it makes you remember that the Jaeyun you knew wasn’t the Jaeyun sitting next to you right now.
“It’s good. I’m still learning the ropes but the team is super nice.” He smiles and bows his head lowly when addressing his seniors, something he always did with your parents. Maybe he hasn’t changed that much at all. The answer seems to be acceptable enough as Mrs Son smiles and doesn’t press further. 
Jaeyun smiles at you and his demeanor changes to one of glee, “You remember the Jo twins that started that enterprise with aerodynamic cars?” He asks quietly and you nod, eyes getting bigger as you piece the puzzle together before he can even finish the sentence, “Well for my dissertation I did a study on aerodynamic cars and their resiliency in weather adverse conditions, focusing on autonomous vehicles, and they loved it,” His eyes sparkled just like they did all those years ago when he spoke about science stuff, “Offered me a starting position with them in assisting the theory I proposed.” 
“What’s the job?” You whisper to him but don’t look up, playing with your food just as he did earlier in the evening. 
It was in that moment of Jaeyun speaking that you realised as unorthodox as your leaving was, it was 100 percent the right decision. He had stars in his eyes that would never shine as bright if he hadn’t gone to Apollo and got this opportunity, and for the first time this week, you’re content. Seeing him achieve a dream, or at least on the way to achieving it, made you feel elated. 
“I’m so proud of you, Jaeyun.” It was a sincere statement and Jaeyun smiled widely at your words, like they were the words he had been waiting to hear his whole life. His heart is beating rapidly and you think you can hear it thumping against his ribcage, but you don’t mention it. He thanks you and that’s when Yeoreum pulls you both back to reality.
“My Jakey is so smart, aren’t you.” She caught onto your conversation halfway through his excited outburst, “I have no clue what it means but-”
“So you would propose a framework that tested all the elements to understand just how reliable self-driving cars truly are when faced with weather stress and how to adapt them to overcome the stressors?” You don’t mean to butt in but you always loved to speak about these things with Jaeyun, even if it was basic-level knowledge you had.
His focus was on you, his puppy energy radiating through and if he had a tail, it would be wagging right now, “Exactly! Fuck, the main focus these developers had on the vehicles was sensors that focused on detecting other cars and members of the public but say there is a massive hurricane coming, the sensors would trip out, I proposed a study to test the sensors in adverse weather conditions; fog, rain, wind, heat, all of them.” 
Jaeyun rambles on about his theories and you fall right back into how it used to be. You listen intently and learn about something you didn’t care about until he starts speaking about it, and he teaches you something new. It was just like old times. Almost.
“Babe, Y/N doesn’t want to hear all that.” Yeoreum laughs and strokes his arm, “Sorry, Y/N, he gets into all this complicated sciencey stuff that no one has a clue about and forgets to stop.” You notice his face turn red in embarrassment as if he’s just been caught doing something indecent. There is a silence that follows Yeoreum’s words until you speak up.
“I think it’s interesting, I would love to hear more about it.” 
He’s so in love with you and he really feels it at its purest form in this moment. It’s a simple thing to listen to his interest and he’s grateful you want to engage more in it. You’ve always been like this, supportive of his ways, never judgmental or dismissive. He’s thankful for you.
“You might be the only one.” Yeoreum and her parents laugh, but as you scan the top half of the table, you see Mr and Mrs Sim smile at you, appreciative. You give Jaeyun a look as if to tell him to continue he shakes his head. “It’s okay, it’s boring anyway.” 
Your heart breaks a little seeing the fire in his eyes extinguish as he goes back to eating his food. There isn’t any part of you that hates Yeoreum, but right now you are not her biggest fan, but you let it go. His mood changed but he tried to hide it from everyone, smiling and laughing with them. Recklessly, you place a hand on his thigh and squeeze it to reassure him just like you always used to. Usually, it was to comfort him during his friend's teasing, but now seemed as good a time as ever. His eyes drop to where your hand is situated and he smiles, his left hand weighs itself on yours and he’s calmer. “Tell me later. I want to know all about it.” You whisper to him.
“Thank you, Princess.” The nicknames he used to call you fall so easily out his mouth that he never has time to stop them, but you don’t mind. “And by the way,” He says, his voice lower than ever, “I was asking you for the salt earlier.” 
______
The next day, Mrs. Son enters you and Eunseo’s temporary room as you straighten your hair. She is dressed up casually for the first time since you arrived, even her pyjamas seem classy and elegant, so as your eyes take in her loose mom jeans, a grey old university jumper that reads ‘Boston University’ across the chest, and her hair covered with a navy baseball cap. 
You remember all the walks you and the Sim family went on, your hand glued to Jaeyun’s as you took in the sights of the city, sometimes even taking hikes of your own early in the morning to watch the sunrise. It wouldn’t be like that this time.
“Girls, we’re going for a walk, Jake’s father's idea,” she rolls her eyes at Eunseo who chuckles, continuing to apply her strawberry chapstick, “Wear something comfortable.” Her sigh indicates that she is in fact not thrilled with the choice, never mind the clothing situation. Not to stereotype but it doesn’t seem that the Son family is common enough for a simple walk. 
“Um, I think I’ll stay here, this seems like a family thing.” Your voice is a whisper as you try to get out of seeing Yeoreum take your place beside Jaeyun. This was also a good time to get out of this house and go back home before the wedding. Eunseo shakes her head and stands up. 
“Be ready in 5 minutes.” Mrs. Son says and leaves the room. It doesn’t take 5 minutes because with Eunseo it takes 23 minutes and 13 seconds according to her dad who timed her. 
“Absolutely not! You’re coming with me. I need my girl to motivate me.” Her eyes are pleading and a pout forming on her lips and you find yourself saying yes, just like you did in that cafe earlier in the week. That was the poorest decision of your life so, this couldn’t be much worse. 
We walk downstairs to see everyone waiting and Mr Son is impatient, either from Eunseo’s lack of urgency or because he wants this over and done with just like his wife. “You guys are so impatient, I had to find these cute leggings!” Eunseo scoffs and turns around and models the navy blue leggings that do wonders for her ass.
Jaeyun’s eyes roam over your body as you bend down to put on a pair of old trainers Eunseo dug out from her cupboard so you could match “It’s important to colour match, Y/N! I have a pair of shoes in here just give me a minute” she told you. His teeth find their way to his lip as he bites down, the habit he picked up throughout your relationship because he could never hold in his want for you. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to grab your hips and hold you against him because truthfully he missed your body on his. 
“Eunseo, sweetie, you’re going for a walk, not to Seoul Fashion Week.” Mr. Son laughs and starts to tie his shoes. She looks disgusted at her father's insinuation that she would ever wear this outfit to a fashion week and grunts as she sits down, putting on her trainers. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t pack any appropriate attire for this so you’re clad in Eunseo’s tight leggings and crop top. It’s exposing and not something you usually wear but it was either that or a sundress and wedges. 
Scared of getting caught ogling you, he turns to his fiance and looks down as she clings to his arm, engrossed by a conversation she is having with his mum. He grabs her face towards his and kisses the side of her mouth, aching for a distraction from you but all his mind is occupied with is you. Even as he kisses Yeoreum, he’s thinking about how your lips used to taste, how they felt, he’s starting to forget how they feel and it sinks his heart into his stomach. All these years without you causing his memory to lapse, only remembering how you used to wear cherry lip balm, or was it oil? He needed to kiss you one more time just so he never forgets. 
He feels shitty using Yeoreum as a distraction, kissing her not because he inherently wants to but because at least it keeps his mind and eyes off you.
Yeoreum’s hands glide down his arm as she kisses him back, her lips soft but not yours. He knows it’s wrong, to be thinking about someone else while his fiance is draped over him, her hands in his and giggling as she smooches his face.
You finish tying your shoes and turn round to see Jaeyun’s hand on her waist and mouth all over hers and a wave of sickness comes over you, you can’t do this, not now and not ever. Every time you think you’re okay and can control your emotions he does something that sends you spiraling. 
A broad chest blocks your vision of him and you feel two big hands land on your shoulders. Heeseung. You glance up and softly smile at him in gratitude for tearing your eyes away from the horror scene of your love’s tongue down someone else’s throat. Heeseung’s hands squeeze your shoulders and his lips on your temple. You don’t recall Heeseung being affectionate like this before but it has been 4 years since you’ve seen him, he’s probably changed a lot, just like Jaeyun.
“Just stick beside me, yeah?” His voice is gentle and sweet, and you agree to stay with him. He has become your unofficial saviour this week and nothing you do will ever be enough to thank him. 
Mr. Sim clears his throat to disrupt the couple’s PDA and starts to speak, “We have two cars to get us to the trail since it’s only,” Mr Sim starts to count heads since some of the family are staying behind,“5,6…9 of us, we should be able to fit 5 and 4. I have a bigger car so I’ll take the 5, Jaeyun can take the 4. Who wants in what car?” 
Everyone looks around like it's the first day of school and you’re being asked to partner up. Yeoreum is the first to speak, raising her hand excitedly, “I’m in the car with Jakey obviously.” Jaeyun’s bottom lip protrudes as he nods his head. Of course, it made sense, but knowing you would have to witness her in the passenger seat, his hand probably laid on her thigh, you wanted in the other car more than anything else right now.
“I’ll go with Mr. Sim,” Jaeyun’s eyes dart to yours confused but you shrug it off. Eunseo, who is the opposite of Heeseung, seems to be your worst enemy this trip pipes in, “How about all the adults go in one car and we go in the other? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind sitting on Heeseung’s lap, yeah?” Oh, you are going to kill her. Mr. and Mrs. Sim look between each other and share a personal laugh. You’re glad someone is finding it funny.
“Great! It’s settled then. Let us go.” Mrs. Son barges past everyone to get to her seat, mumbling annoyance along the way. 
“It’s fine, I hope you got some meat on those thighs.” You say trying to lighten the mood, and it works for a second. Heeseung laughs and wraps his arm around you and guides you to the car before whispering, “My thighs can hold you just fine, Y/N.” 
“You okay with that?” Heeseung’s voice is low but filled with concern, he knew what Eunseo was doing and he wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea, but considering you would rather ride with 4 parents, 2 of whom you don’t know and the other 2 aren’t exactly pitching for your team, he guessed you didn’t want to be in Jaeyun’s car.
Heeseung’s laugh runs through your ears and you feel instantly calm. 
Jaeyun and Yeoreum get in the front and the three of you sleek into the back. It’s in this moment that confusion clouds your face. “There are enough seats in here? Why would I have to sit on Heeseung’s lap?” Your question is pointed to Eunseo but Jaeyun answers,
“Oh, we have to pick someone up on the way.” His smile was bright and wide, “She’s a diva and likes her own seat.” Tilting your head at him, Jaeyun looks down and laughs lowly as if you should know.
“You can avoid Heeseung’s lap for now until we pick her up.” Eunseo states as she slides into her side. “But after that…” She winks at you as you scoot into the middle seat. Your best friend really was something else.
You decide to focus on the interior of Jaeyun’s old but new to you car. It’s a lot less shabby than the one you knew, with black leather seats that don’t have cracks in them from years of wear and tear, and his old cassette player has been upgraded to a built-in CD system. 
“Let’s put on some music!” Yeoreum says as she trifles through a CD case but Jaeyun quickly takes it from her and laughs nervously.
“Why don’t you take the aux like always? I've said before these CD's aren't your thing.” Jaeyun puts the CDs in his glove box and continues to drive forward. It piqued your curiosity about what was in the case. Probably a surprise wedding mixtape he spent forever on with all Yeoreum’s favourite songs, just like he used to do with you. That sickness from earlier starts to bubble, but you swallow it down. 
“Fine. Y/N, what do you like to listen to? I know everyone else’s taste but yours!” Yeoreum is so sweet, and it’s killing you a little. If only she was a bitch. 
“Um, I think everything,” You say as you watch her add songs into a queue, clearly picking an eclectic mix to keep everyone happy. 
The car jerks forward as Jaeyun almost emergency brakes when Heeseung calls you angel. You’re body lunges forward a little at the jerk but Heeseung shields your body, acting as another seatbelt. “Mate, watch what you’re doing.” Heeseung scorns his best friend as he rubs your arms, “You good?” Nodding in response you get comfy again.
“Put some Monsta X on,” Heeseung’s face turns to you as he speaks. “She loves them, don’t you, angel?” 
The rest of the car is filled with Yeoreum’s hand-selected playlist and tension between the driver seat and the one behind.
Jaeyun turns into a quaint little area with a few shops and buildings about 20 minutes into the drive. “Are we here already?” you ask Heeseung but he shakes his head. “Did you forget we have a passenger princess to pick up?” You let out a silent ‘oh’ and nod. 
As the car stops in the parking lot you shift a little uncomfortable. “I’m going to stretch my legs.” Heeseung steps out of the car to let you out but you stumble out of the car, luckily, Jaeyun is there to catch you, his hands placed on your shoulders to stop you from face-planting. He doesn’t say a word but his expression is laced with concern to which you shake your head and whisper a thank you.
You brush yourself down and straighten up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He says to you and lets his hand linger down your arm. All you can do is nod and watch him leave.
“You know her well.” Oh no. Not another ghost from 4 years past. You can’t face another stern face cursing you to oblivion for your previous actions. 
“Who are we picking up?” You stretch your right leg and look at Heeseung who laughs. 
Yeoreum squeals and gets out of the car, “There she is!” Your sights set on Yeoreum and follow to where she is staring and your heart leaps out of your mouth. As you cross round the car you see the familiar blonde charging her way to you.
“Layla!” You shout, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face as the dog bounds towards you, happiness evident on her face. 
In a blur, you kneel down and she jumps up to give your face sloppy licks. Layla was Jaeyun’s family dog, a precious piece of their family, and admittedly your favourite, even before Jaeyun. “Whose my good girl?” You hug her tight as she barks, her tail wagging excitedly, the feeling of missing each other is mutual. Ruffling her coat she jumps around you and barks loudly. Jaeyun smiles down at you both, and you smile back at him, however, you’re the only two smiling as Yeoreum and Eunseo have a look of bewilderment.
“I thought you said she was reserved around new people?” Eunseo asks Yeoreum who hums to confirm. 
You miss out on this as you give Layla long-awaited kisses and cuddles, whispering ‘I missed you’ and ‘good girl’ into her fur. 
“Um, Jakey? Isn’t Layla shy around people she doesn’t know? She was like that with me when I first met her.” The question from his fiance brings him back to earth and his smile wipes from his face, clearing his throat to buy him some time to think of an excuse.
“Eh, maybe she just trusts Y/N because she’s with all of us.” A pathetic reasoning but you weren’t exactly any help, too busy playing with the excited animal.
Shit.
Heeseung crouches beside you and gives Layla a pet, nudging you in the process, “Remember where you are, Y/N.” 
You look around and everyone’s eyes are on you. “She must just sense I’m a dog person. Are you a dog or cat person, Yeoreum?” If there was one thing you perfected over the years it’s how to deflect situations onto another person and that's through the art of asking them questions about themself.
“I like dogs!” She smiles, “But I do like cats.” Her pondering face is matched with her hand on her cheek, “Jakey, do you think she didn’t take to me because I like cats?”
“Yes!” Jaeyun claps and points to her excitedly, happy to have a reason for this scenario in front of him. “Must be that, Reumie.” His shoulders relax and his eyes fix on Layla. She’s clueless, just happy that you’re back.
Getting back into the car you sit on Heeseung’s lap and Layla looks at you, like if she focuses on anyone else you’ll disappear again. You pet her to reassure her and it doesn’t take long for her to lay her head on your thigh, just happy for your presence. Jaeyun’s heart flips at the scene as he watches it through the rearview mirror. 
As you’re getting comfy on Heeseung’s thighs, you hover a little to not put all the pressure of you on him, but Heeseung is Heeseung and he notices. His hands grip your waist and plonk you down until your whole weight is on him. “You won’t break me.” He chuckles and rubs circles into your hips. A slight nod of your head is all you offer him and you get comfy.
Jaeyun starts the car, reversing out the car park, one arm resting on the seat as he looks behind him, for a split second he looks your way but quickly goes back to focusing on not crashing the car, his tongue pointed out the side of his mouth in concentration. You shift in Heeseung’s lap as heat bubbles in your stomach. There is something about Jaeyun driving that always made you think out of church hour thoughts, the way the veins run up his arm, how his tongue pokes out and wets his lips, his one hand on the wheel reversing, it was all so hot. There were times on occasion you couldn’t handle it and got him to take you in the backseat, those were not the thoughts you need right now while you’re on his best friend’s lap. 
“Hey,” Heeseung rips your gaze from Jaeyun’s hand with his voice as you turn your head to him, his voice low enough only you can hear, “If you leave a wet patch on my sweatpants I will have you pay for my dry cleaning.” He huffs out a laugh as your face falls and goes bright red.
“I-I, shut up, Hee!”  You whisper and slap his chest. 
__
One hour later you arrive and see the couple’s parents waving Jaeyun over. As he parks the car you all clamber out and greet the others, Layla ping-ponging herself between you and Jaeyun. 
A tap on your shoulder has you turning to face a serious Eunseo, “How did you know her name was Layla?” The question catches you for a new one but you just spout the same excuse you have this whole trip. 
“Jake told me.” 
“You know.” She crosses her arms and taps her foot a few times before continuing, “You seem to have spoken to Jake a lot and yet, I haven’t seen you talk to him once.” The tone of her sentence is accusatory but you keep calm.
She hums, “He knew about your distaste for black pepper, you knew he was captain of his high school football team, and I heard him request a vegetarian dish for you to our cook so I presume he knows you hate red meat. All that was way before dinner.” Her stance is strong as she leans back and waits for you to explain, but you can’t.
“W-what do you mean? We spoke last night, about his job and stuff,” your hand points to her, palm faced forward, “you saw.”
“Oh Eunseo, Jaeyun is actually the love of my life, we dated for about 4 years and then I left without a word. Now he’s going to marry your sister and I want to die at the thought.” 
That is what you probably shouldn’t say, so you settle with, “Just small talk I guess.” A nervous laugh leaves you but she doesn’t let up. “Y/N-”
At the same time Eunseo is saying your name, Heeseung comes over and hugs you from behind, “You coming, ladies? Or do you want to stay here with all the screaming children?” Heeseung points over Eunseo’s shoulder to the crying toddler and their sleep-deprived parents.
“You two need to be more careful. If Eunseo finds out, she tells Yeoreum, and I don’t think you want to be the topic of that conversation right before the wedding, yeah?” 
“Coming!” You say and rush off, grabbing Heeseung’s hand and getting you both out of Eunseo’s earshot. “Thank you.”
He’s right. He always is and it exudes a heavy sigh from your lips. “I know, it’s just so easy to forget.” You admit and his silent nod is all you need before the group of you head for your walk.
It’s peaceful, every so often you throw a stick for Layla, and chatter amongst the parents is all you hear as you make it your mission to not look Jaeyun’s way. Eunseo walks alongside the happy couple and you do as Heeseung suggested and stay by his side. The scenery takes your breath away, the golden sun burning your skin, not a cloud in sight. You take some time to reflect on the past 4 years and realise the sun doesn’t come out so much in Pyeongchang. 
“Y/N?” You turn to see Yeoreum looking at you, “Can I ask you something?” Oh no. Eunseo told her, fuck, maybe Mrs. Sim did. Is she going to throw you over the cliff, is all this one big ploy to get rid of you? 
“Oh, sure.” You look away and prepare for the worst-case scenario.
“Tell us more about your ex. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Your eyes widen and look straight at Jaeyun who, despite his golden skin, is suddenly pale white. “I don’t know why you broke up with him if you were so perfect for each other.” 
Jaeyun and Heeseung look at each other in confusion. They weren’t there for the conversation when the football game was going on, so they had no idea what Yeoreum was talking about.
“Yeah!” It’s Eunseo’s turn to chime in, “Y/N is such a closed book, I still know hardly anything about her. Tell us. You said you had challenges.”
“I-”
“It’s not really our business though, it is? We don’t have to know.” Heeseung speaks up in your defense but Yeoreum just scoffs. “I know about everyone’s exes, I love hearing about them. I know all about yours,” She points to Heeseung, “I of course know all about Jake’s.” She rolls her eyes as she spits the last sentence out, clearly, Jaeyun had said some bitter things about you, but you don’t mind. You deserved it. “So tell us about yours, Y/N. Jake, you should have seen the way she spoke about him! It was true love, I know it, maybe we can give you advice and get back together?”
Jaeyun coughs and looks up to the sky, wishing a bright light would come from between the clouds and either obliterate him like in that War of the Worlds movie.
“It was just,” You stop, uncomfortable at the idea that the subject of conversation is only a meter from you. Maybe this was your chance to really explain yourself in a controlled environment where emotions had to be under control, not like that night in the kitchen. 
“I just was scared I think. I didn’t really handle the situation well. I was scared of long distance so I didn’t tell him I was going to college in Pyeongchang and just up and left.” 
“I thought it was the right call. He had dreams, and honestly? He would have given all of it up for me. His dream school, his future, just to follow me and I didn’t want to live with the guilt of it.” Your head hangs low, and Heeseung’s hand grazes yours in an attempt to comfort you. “In the moment, I thought it was the right choice.”
“Damn,” Eunseo slows down her pace and looks at you, “You mean you just, left him behind?” 
Eunseo stops completely, “Your parents…”
“Left them behind too. I didn’t want to risk him finding out where I was going. I didn’t tell anyone. Literally.” It was all clicking in Eunseo’s head and her jaw hung open.
“That’s cold, Y/N. I can’t imagine how he feels. Does he know where you are now?” Yeoreum asks the wrong questions every single time and you almost laugh at the irony.
You shrug, “I-” 
“What do you think about it now?” The Australian accent jolts you to attention and interrupts what would have been a lie. Turning your head to him you wish he wasn’t looking at you with his eyes wide, like they’re desperate for something only you can give him.
Swallowing you nod slowly, “I think- I think I made the wrong choice.” You should have stopped the sentence there but you continue, “He’s everything to me still, I would do anything to go back and change it.”
In another world, Jaeyun is tearing himself away from Yeoreum, picking you up, and kissing you because you are the only one that matters. But this isn’t a romance movie, and you’re both deep in this tangled mess.
“I think you should reach out. Then you can have what me and Jake have.” A scoff is heard behind you. Turning, you view Heeseung with disgust on his face, his jaw is clenched and his eyes don’t even give Yeoreum the time of day. “What? You don’t think she could have that?” 
“I think Y/N can have anything she wants,” He’s biting his tongue. Jaeyun’s gaze is looking pleadingly at his best man to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t, “It’s just Y/N is describing a love that sounds like once in a lifetime.”
It’s Yeoreum’s time to stop in her tracks. “And you think Jake and I don’t have that?”
“Yes.” If gagged had a visual representation next to its definition in the dictionary, it would be a still-frame picture of your face right now. “It’s not that you don’t love each other obviously,” damage control Heeseung was coming to fruition as he saw the shocked faces staring at him, “It’s just love like that isn’t easy to find.” He mumbles, cursing under his breath that he even opened his mouth. 
“Well, for your information, Heeseung I brought Jake back to life after his high school relationship. He was nothing but a hollow body until he met me. If it wasn’t a ‘once in a lifetime love’” She air quotes the phrase, “then he would still be moping around over a shitty, second string ex that never deserved him.”
“Enough.” Jaeyun’s voice is stern, not like you’ve ever heard before, “Both of you just shut up. I love Yeoreum,” He faces Heeseung almost trying to convince him, “I wouldn’t be marrying her otherwise, “and you don’t get to shit on my ex.” His attention now on his fiance, “You don’t know her, she had her reasons, and yeah she hurt me, but she deserved all the love I gave her. So keep her out of your mouth. Got it?” 
Maybe Yeoreum’s face right now should be next to gagged in the dictionary. Scratch that, just have this whole scenario play out on a projector. Jaeyun strides ahead, annoyed that anyone in their right mind would ever say anything like that about you. The silence is loud as you all continue your walk, Layla still none the wiser.
As you reach the top of the trail, Jaeyun’s emotions have settled but he doesn’t look at you or Yeoreum once, focused on the sun. Even though it’s shining bright, it’s a lot colder with the breeze from the height where he stood.
Layla is pulling at you to follow her and with her leash in hand you do. She paws at Jaeyun who looks down with a smile and pets her head. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you take a moment to register he’s talking to you. “She shouldn’t have said that.”
Your heart beats loudly because even after all this time he’s still looking out for you, still caring about your feelings even though he would have every right to hate you and curse you just like Yeoreum had.
“Jaeyun, It’s okay. She’s not wrong. It was shitty.” You suck your teeth and then you laugh, “You’re gonna be a terrifying dad,” He doesn’t say anything but his eyebrows scrunch together, “The way you put them both in their place, I’ve never seen you get angry.”
“Ah, that’s not true.” Now it was your turn to adorn a face of confusion, “Your birthday party, with Sunghoon?” Oh. Yeah. That. You shift from one foot to another, wrapping Layla’s lead around one of your hands. “I think that was the only time though.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He laughs loudly and shakes his head. “Baby, that was like 7 years ago. I forgive you. I forgave you that night.”
“Then go forgive Yeoreum.” The statement causes Jaeyun to lean back. “You should forgive her. It wasn’t nice but she didn’t mean it like that, she was protecting you because she loves you. If you can forgive me that easy then you can do the same for her.”
He sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets. “It’s easy to forgive you.” 
“Do you?” Your voice is a whisper, your heart rapidly hitting against your chest, “Forgive me.”
Jaeyun nods his head slowly and turns to face you properly, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Taking his hand out of his pocket he grabs yours and squeezes it. He loves you and that is never going to change. It’s just that he loves Yeoreum now. You can try to find contentment in that.
_______
For the car ride back, Yeoreum storms into the backseat without giving any warning, clearly mad at her future husband. Heeseung guides Layla into the middle seat before situating himself on the seat beside her and waiting for you to crawl onto his lap. That however does not happen. Eunseo decides to sit on Heeseung’s lap instead and he is less than impressed. “Um, Eunseo?” She turns to Heeseung as if sitting on his lap is the most obvious decision in the world. “What? I’m not sitting next to him after he shouted at my sister.” Jaeyun opens the driver seat and throws himself down onto the leather, muttering a barely heard ‘I didn’t shout’. You look at Heeseung to help you out but he shrugs and mouths a sorrowful ‘Sorry.’ which is no comfort at all. “Y/N can sit in the front.” Yeoreum huffs and you follow her instruction mindlessly. You get into the passenger side and buckle your seatbelt for the awkward 2 hours that await. 
“Let me put on some music, yeah?” Your voice is calm and quiet like you’re trying not to disrupt the tension. Heeseung is the only one to agree but you still grab the aux and plug your phone in. Unlike Yeoreum, you don’t ask what songs people want and settle for one of your playlists but just as you go to hit play, your phone says it’s at 5% and you mentally curse yourself for taking so many pictures. You have a choice; you can either play the songs right now and have your phone die in 2 minutes, or sit in silence. You sit for a while and the silence causes Jaeyun to turn to you.
“You okay?” he asks and you hum explaining about your phone, “Here.” Opening the glove box he hands you the CDs he hid from Yeoreum and she notices, crossing her arms and holding back from making a sarky comment.
Flicking through the CDs you see the mixtapes he made over the years until one stops you dead. ‘Y/N #1’. Your fingers flip through and all of them are named something similar all the way to ‘Y/N #38’. The last one has drawings of rings and keys all around it and you lightly trace your fingers over it, scared that if you touch it you’ll break it. 
To confirm your theories, you pick it out and enter it into the CD player and your heart skips at least 5 beats as the first notes play from Love is All Around by Wetter. You choke on nothing as the memories of that night come flooding back to that night. He had taken all those cassette tapes and made them into CDs. Even after you abandoned him he still took the time to transfer every single mixtape. Your chest feels heavy and you feel like you’re going to pass out until Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh to calm you down. His touch is so familiar and comforting that instantly you feel relief wash over you, your hand intertwining with his. Just like how you used to be, you’re seeking his comfort. 
Yeoreum is in too much of a sour mood to notice how his thumb rubs your skin, and how his whole body suddenly feels like it’s found the missing limb that’s been detached from him. But Heeseung doesn’t. He sees it all and he wants to cuss you both out for being so obvious. Still, instead, he’s engaging Eunseo in meaningless conversation, distracting her of any chance to see how Jaeyun has his fingers tracing hearts into your thigh.
As the song’s final chorus blares through the speakers he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently. It’s a foolish move and Heeseung panics, looking between the sisters to see if any of them notice and somehow they don’t. He is going to have some words for you both when they all get back. 
Alan Watt’s monologue at the end of the song doesn’t help the way you’re feeling, like for the first time in years you are exactly where you should be, with the love of your life. But his hand leaves yours as the journey goes on due to worrying that Yeoreum could turn her head and see it, and you’re pulled back to reality. He isn’t yours, and he’s getting married in two days.
____
Stepping out of the car you watch as everyone walks into the house, some sullen, and some oblivious about what happened. You wish you were the latter. Jaeyun walks with his hands in his pockets, head down as he follows a pouty Yeoreum up the stairs and into their bedroom. The house’s once light atmosphere is now heavy and by this point, everyone can feel it. Mr. Sim pulls Heeseung to the side and they share a whisper. Mrs & Mr. Son kidnap Mrs. Sim and Eunseo to the kitchen to help them prepare dinner.
You don’t follow your best friend, instead, you tread up the grand staircase, ready to shower and wash off the antics of today, craving the battering of hot water against your skin. Your foot is not but a second on the first floor when you hear shouting. It’s muffled and honestly, you shouldn’t be listening but you’re nosey and you one hundred percent know who it is.
“I just don’t understand why you shouted at me like that. And in front of our friends!” Yeoreum cries out. Don’t eavesdrop your mind is telling you, but your feet are gingerly walking to their door, it lays slightly ajar.
You don’t see lots but you can see Yeoreum’s back and sometimes when she moves, you can see Jaeyun. He looks lost, guilty, and bored all at once.
“Reumie, I did not shout at you. I told you to not speak about my ex. What is your fascination with her? You bring her up whenever you get the chance.” 
Yeoreum scoffs and folds her arms, one foot pointed out to the right and her hip jutted out. “Me?! Fascination?! You have some nerve to ask me that.” Jaeyun looks at her confused, “Jake, you are so sensitive whenever I bring her up.”
“Because she’s my fucking ex, Yeoreum. It’s a sensitive fucking topic for a lot of people believe it or not. I told you talking about her makes me uncomfortable” He’s mad and he’s scared she’ll say something that will have him saying something regretful. Jaeyun’s hands are in front of him and his fingers are joined as he tries to calm down. “Look, let’s just forget it-”
“Get over it, Jake. She probably has. I am the one who got you out of your rut, I am the one who held you on those nights you’d cry over her wishing she would come back even though I, your girlfriend, was right there, and I sure as hell am the one you asked to marry you.”
Jaeyun stills at the memories of him laying on his dorm bed, willing you to come home to him, Yeoreum hugging him from behind, lulling him to calm down. He couldn’t even pretend to care about her presence when thoughts of you struck into his mind. She didn’t deserve the way he was back then and he’s surprised she stayed around.
Jaeyun opens his mouth but she cuts him off before he can even respond, her eyes are on him with a deadly stare, “Do you still love her?” It’s his turn to scoff but she doesn’t let up, “Tell me you don’t love her, and I’ll put it all behind me. I will forget this ever happened and drop it.” She knows the answer, but she wants him to lie to her.
“I- Yeoreum everyone still has feelings for their first love.”
“If she walked through that door right now, would you leave me for her?” 
A gentle hand enveloped the top of your arm, causing you to gasp and turn around panicked. Mr. Sim’s gaze meets yours. He gently leads you from the door and into your room, “I think you’ve heard enough.” Although the statement can come across as rude from anyone else, his tone is comforting. He was taking you away from the possibility of the answer you knew he was going to say. Of course not. He wouldn’t leave her if his ex walked into his life again because you did walk back in and he is still very much engaged.
Jaeyun’s dad shuts the door behind him and sighs, “Y/N, Heeseung told me what happened.” You nod.
“It wasn’t a big argument, they’ll get over it in a minute.” Looking up you see him shaking his head and waltzing towards you, guiding you both to sit on the edge of the bed.
“He told me everything.” Oh. You nod again, this time heavy and with dread, as you think about the prospect of how this conversation will go. 
The next words to leave his mouth are not in a million years what you would have guessed,  “Thank you.” Shifting your body to face him completely you stretch your neck forward to make sure you heard him correctly, eyelids invisible as your eyebrows dart up.
Mr. Sim laughs and gently shakes your leg affectionately. “I know I didn’t give you the best welcome back reaction but you have to understand.” You daren’t say a word, trying to listen carefully, “When you left, you left behind my son but you took him with you. His livelihood, his character, his heart, he lost himself and I think it’s because you accidentally packed him up with your bags.”
“I’ll be candid, we lost all respect for you,” His face is sour and all you can do is nod because he had every right to feel this way, “But after these past few days, and Heeseung telling me why you left, I realise I have to thank you.”
The guilt your heart feels is astronomical, you knew it would hurt him, but something about the way his dad is putting it is like having someone poke multiple pins in your heart and dragging them down slowly, and painfully, torturing you as you awaited death.
“Why? You should hate me, you said yourself, I destroyed him.”
“Emotionally at the time, yes. But every step you took was always with his interest at the forefront. You knew he would reject Apollo if you told him you weren’t going with him.” A chuckle leaves his lips and his hand pats your leg again, “One thing about my boy? He is stupid when it comes to mind over heart. And you are so smart, baby girl.” Mr. Sim’s eyes are just as they used to be, full of adoration for you.
“If Jaeyun had left with you, he might have started to resent you and the relationship, wondering if he made the right choice, it would cause arguments, you’d drift and it would all have been for nothing. You saw that didn’t you?”
Yes. That is exactly how you saw it. When you made the decision to not tell him, long distance was your main reason, but as you stewed with it for years you truly know the guilt of keeping him from his dream school and ultimately sabotaging his future was the main reason. You wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. “Something like that.” Is all you mutter to him, “I knew how hard he worked for all of it, Busan, Apollo, his career, I didn’t want him to jeopardise it for some girl. And he always said long-distance scared him.” Tears are ricocheting down your face and you taste the salt as the liquid slips past your lips. For the first time, your feelings and actions are being validated.
“He also got Yeoreum.” You say smiling sadly. He grabs your chin and turns your face to his delicately.
“My son was always your number one priority, even when you didn’t realise it. Now do I wish there was a better way you could have gone about this? Categorically so.” He laughs and for the first time in the whole conversation so do you, nodding your head and your eyes looking up. “But you deserve a thank you because look what he has; honours in one of the most prestigious colleges in the country, a job he loves and is so dearly passionate about, I mean really, I cannot get him to shut up about it,”
“Do you love him?” You agree without hesitation and try to focus on anything but his eyes, too painful and far too similar to his son’s. “Then let me give you some advice,” Shouting can be heard, Jaeyun and Yeoreum’s voices getting louder but you’re too busy hanging on to every word Mr. Sim is speaking to tune in, “Do what you think is best, for you and him, either together or separate. You’ll make the right choice, Y/N. I know that now.”
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hellenhighwater · 10 months
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Do you get a lot of use out of your soldering iron? It's one of those craft tools I've had my eye on for awhile but haven't been able to justify the cost
I have a couple, and yeah. One I mostly use for basic electrical work, like repairing power cords or making cables for stuff, which I bought in high school. I have another one I use for stained glass leading, inherited from my mom, and a third that is for woodburning--technically it can also do soldering but I just use it for that, which I've had for at least ten years. All three of them get semi-regular use, but I do have more hobbies than is advisable; it's going to depend on what you want to do.
I do consider soldering one of those basic, versatile skillsets that's worth having no matter what you do. If nothing else, you will be far more able to conduct basic repairs on stuff you own if you know how to solder. If you don't expect to do a ton of soldering, or not much high-precision soldering, you can probably get away with a cheap one.
However, I'm of the opinion that money spent on a good tool is always money well spent. The more tools you have and can use competently, the more stuff you can make; as you learn to understand what your tools are capable of, you'll find yourself coming up with projects that would not have even occurred to you before you learned the skill. It is a blessing and a curse.
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jay-m3 · 2 months
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Role-playing
Scenario: You get them to role-play as your favorite characters in the bedroom
Male reader! Warning* Language, NSFW themes (Heavily implied), Implied cross dressing Characters: Alastor, Adam, Lucifer, and Vox
Alastor
It was a hard feature to get Alastor to agree to do role-playing. Even worst as you suggested for him to dress up. But with a lot of obeying orders like a good boy and batting your eyelashes, he finally caves in.
"If I do this...role-playing, you will owe me a favor." Alastor states, taking the clothing that you bought just for him. He looks at the suit, making sure not to wrinkle it even though, it will soon be tossed away as the role-playing progress.
"Uh huh, yeah. Go put it on!" You say dismissively, wanting to see how he looks. You spent a lot of money for this.
Giving a silent sigh, he makes his way behind the screen room divider to change.
"And who am I dressing as?" Alastor asks, stepping around the divider to show you the outfit.
"Sebastian Michaelis!" You squeal out, rushing in front of him to look how the outfit fits. Which was perfect! Of course, going to the tailor that Alastor usually goes to was a smart plan since they already know of his measurements.
"The one in your comics, yes?" He asks, basking in your attention. He won't admit it though the outfit may be for a lesser person of power, it was comfortable and formal. The only thing he was not appreciative is the gloves. Instead of his black gloves that reaches his mid forearm was white wrist gloves. White was not his color.
"It's called Manga and yes. Sebastian is a very powerful butler demon. He's very cunning, manipulative, and charming. So I don't think you'll have any trouble fitting that role." You hummed out, adjusting his tie that was perfectly in place but you just wanted to touch already.
"Well then," Alastor pulls you in by the waist, "as a butler I should start doing the task that is wanted of me." He takes your chin in his hands, lifting your face to make you're eyes make contact with his own. His natural red eye color a perfect match for Sebastian.
Adam
"I feel stupid." Adam whines out behind the closed door. He's hiding in the bathroom after taking the costume with him to change.
"Oh, I'm sure you look amazing. Just come out!" You encouraged, sitting down infront of the bed where it was facing the door that Adam was behind.
"I don't look nothing like the guy." He complains before a thud is heard and the door shakes a little.
You sighed, knowing that he must have tapped the door with his head, a little bit too aggressively.
"So? I didn't look anything like Misa Misa but I still wore it last time." Last time was his choice of what you guys do in the bedroom. He picked out Misa Amane from Death Note. Apparently, he has a thing for goth chicks, also stating that your dick in panties was a bonus for him.
"Ugh! Fine. Just don't luagh. I swear, the things I fucking do for you." You were in mid eye roll when Adam opens the door. The sight of him makes you hold in your breath. There he was, in a Iron Man costume that you and him worked hard in finding. It wasn't amazing like those cos players but way better than the Halloween version.
"Go ahead. Luagh-" Adam didn't get to finish as you start to kiss him. Immediately, he holds your waist, pulling you close as you both make out. Your hands cupping his face, feeling the freshly styled facial hair that he formed to a goatee for this day. This man let it all grow just for you.
"Fuck." Adam gasps, pulling back to take a breath. Looking down at your flushed state, a smirk forms on his face.
"I'm Tony Stark and I've saved my best weapon for you."
Lucifer
You and Lucifer are in the beginning of love making. Kissing each other passionately, clothes already thrown to who knows where. His hands running up and down your sides, sending thrill of arousal mixed with tingles that supposed to make you luagh from the ticklish sensation. As it progress, you pull away, looking down at him from your place straddling his lap.
He quirks a brow at you, wondering why you pulled away, leaning back with a shy look instead of attacking his neck with love bites.
"Is something wrong?" He asks, running his hands down your thighs to soothe you and himself.
"I just...I want to try something new." You mumble out, looking away from him. The heat that's spread on your form rises. Making your skin fill in goosebumps from the thought in your mind.
"Oh? Tell me baby. I'm all up for it." Lucifer states, feeling warmth flood his system at the idea of you asking him many things that he can provide. This whole sex thing is nothing new, nor kinks. He has done many things in the past, some questionable but when you have centuries of free time, one gets bored.
"You know how you can shape shift...right?" You ask like it was something new to him even though it's one of his powers that he usually uses just cuase he can.
He nods staying silent, letting you keep the pace with your thoughts. As he sees you struggle, you lean over to the bedside table and grab your phone. You type in Voogle and show the image to Lucifer.
"...You want me to shape shift to Lucifer Morningstar in that TV show?" You groan, throwing the phone to the side and cover your face in embarrassment.
"I know, I know...but at least it's still basically you." You mumble out, more to yourself before you feel a slight shift under you. Uncovering your eyes, you come face to face with the Lucifer that the TV series betrays him as.
"Now then..." Lucifer purrs, getting into character before he flips you both over so he was now on top.
"Tell me, what do you desire?"
Vox
Role-playing wasn't something that was talked or thought about in your relationship. Until Vox noticed your obsession with a character that you'll bring up time to time. Even collected figurines and posters.
He hasn't payed much attention to it but the more you obsessed over this fictional character, the more thought of just figuring out what gift he can give you about this character for your birthday. You basically have almost all the merchandise. A room dedicated for your obsession, filled and nicely decorated.
As he enters the room, he takes a picture and image search this bitch. Immediately, he gets taken to many sites and other images about this character. Which leads to a deep dive of cosplays.
"Vox?" You call out, walking in the bedroom to find your boyfriend. You already searched the whole penthouse except here.
"Hey." A familiar voice that wasn't Vox makes you perk up. Turning around, there leaning on the door frame acting cool and nonchalant, arms crossed is your boyfriend dressed as the one and only Kakashi Hatake.
"How did you do that!" You rush toward him, a big smile plastered on. You don't know if to luagh or fan boy.
Vox takes in your reaction, feeling out of his comfort zone but the stars in your eyes makes him relax. He's sure you're referring to his screen. Instead of his usual face, he digitalized his screen to form Kakashi's face or half of it since the mask was in the way.
"A whole team of animators and lots of replacements." Vox even changed his voice filter to sound like the ninja.
While you admire him, he takes a step forward to lean close to your face, seeing how you hold your breath.
"Would you like to act out a scene from my book, Icha Icha Paradise?" He asks seductively, pulling out a replica of the book from his back pocket and taps your head with it.
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shaunamilfman · 8 months
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Jackie Taylor with an s/o that plays video games
pre-crash headcanons
Jackie Taylor is for sure a hater of any hobby you have. Why would you want to have a hobby when you could just watch her being pretty?? 
she’d definitely approach this with the intent of getting you to stop playing and pay attention to her at first. she’s laying all over you absolutely astonished that you’re still playing video games while she’s there. You seriously have a pretty girl in your lap and still want to play minecraft?
She’s realizing the error of this plan as you assume she’s interested and start explaining what’s going on in your game. It wasn’t her intention, but she figures at least this way you’re still paying her attention. She’ll get what she can get.
Jackie would end up getting really interested in the story line and would get upset with you if you even thought about playing it without her. she asks you so many dumb questions about game mechanics and makes you go through every single dialog option that it takes you like 40 hours to finish a 20 hour game
Jackie would get really into competitive games on your behalf. like she'd sitting there cheering you on like she's watching a fucking soccer game. Jackie buys you headphones with a mic so she can start shit talking people you play against. she gets really into the spirit of the competition man. 
Jackie talking about you embarrassing her after she shit talked everyone and you died like 3 minutes in lmao. all “how could you do this to me 😔” and shit. i just know Jackie Taylor would be an absolute menace on a mic regardless of if you had the skill to back it up
it's even funnier because she'd be so so bad at it herself. Jackie blows herself up with her own grenade like every time because she hits the wrong button. pouts and gives up after one round. isn't she dreamy?? 🥰🥰
Jackie trying to get into playing games but it's just her running around frolicking in the tall grass and handing you the controller whenever she had to fight someone
speaking of which I just know she went out and bought the pink controller. your black controller was not cute enough for her 
Jackie looks up guides for you whenever you get stuck on something. you think it's sweet but she just gets bored easily
Playing Minecraft with Jackie but all she does is build the house and accidently screw you over. Jackie moves the bed while your gone and completely fucks your spawn point up. Jackie's just like “i wanted to put carpet there 😔” Jackie also dies from falling off the house at some point and is at spawn getting farmed by mobs till you come get her. 
Jackie has you off in the mines for days because she wants an iron block accent wall. she only ever wants the expensive blocks I just know it. she's building your house out of the wood block instead of the planks, and she'll be damned if she's gathering those resources herself
Jackie taking your diamond armor to wear while she builds the house because “it's prettier than iron 🥰🥰.”
You come back from a long day of mining and Jackie wants to show you the heart shaped leaves on the trees that took her an hour to do. 
Jackie's house gets blown up by a creeper and she's beside herself over it I just know it
you make the mistake of showing Jackie the Sims because you think she might like it. she's obsessed immediately. 
she plays it on her regular laptop and it sounds like an airplane taking off 
Jackie has a painstakingly perfect recreation of your place with you guys in it, and she will make this your problem
sim you cheats on sim Jackie and she won't speak to you for days. she texts you a picture of the notification like “wowwwwwww. okay.” it does not matter to her that it was a video game lmaoo
catching Jackie recreating a girl who flirted with you so she can lock her in the pool to drown
Jackie picking your outfit out one day and you're just staring at her suspiciously
"what? 😁" / "these kind of look like the outfits you put us in your game" / "pffff. whattttt?”
you'll fall asleep to Jackie playing it and wake up and she's still there. it gets so bad you and Shauna have to stage an intervention. 
Jackie gets pissed whenever your character can marry/date another character. She found out you married Haley in Stardew Valley and still glares at you whenever she sees a coconut. “why don't you go tell your WIFE 🙄.” my petty queen. 
trying to get Jackie to play a resident evil game but she cries like ten minutes in because she's so stressed/scared from the background noises. three creek floor noises and she's gone. hasn't even gotten in the house yet 
Jackie grows to really love the fact that you have a hobby she can also enjoy/participate in with you. Jackie loves to spend all her time and energy with you, even if you aren't giving her your full attention like she'd prefer. 
Jackie makes you pick all the nice dialog lines because she'll get upset if your character is mean. She has such strong opinions about dialog choices that she'll argue with you for like ten minutes over why you should pick a certain choice even though it has absolutely no impact on the story
Jackie definitely cheats at choice games and knows all the possible consequences for every single choice. you go to steal a candy bar or something and she's like “NOOO!”
slightly unrelated but Jackie would totally pick bae>bay without hesitation. Everyone in the town is dead? small price to pay for lesbians
going feral over the idea Jackie Taylor sitting across your lap scrolling on Pinterest while you have your arms around her holding the controller as you play
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leclerc-s · 9 months
Text
paint the town red - bonus part
series masterlist
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EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE
charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."
charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."
"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"
"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"
"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"
"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."
"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."
"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?
"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."
"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.
daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."
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will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."
we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”
toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”
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in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"
"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."
tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"
"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"
tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."
"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"
"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."
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in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.
"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."
"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"
"i'm happy with my job now."
“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”
“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”
“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”
“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”
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charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”
“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”
“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”
“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”
“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”
“i imagine it was a big shock?”
“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”
"is change a good thing?"
"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."
"are things strained between you two?"
"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."
"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"
"to win the championship." charles laughs.
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carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.
"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"
"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."
"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."
carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."
"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"
"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."
"i see."
"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."
"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"
"to win the championship." carlos answers.
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will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."
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series taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @nothaqks @nataliambc @formulaa1d @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you
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¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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alonetimelover · 11 months
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"I can't stop thinking of you" for Harry maybe?
Also, your writing is really so so great🫶
"I can't stop thinking of you."
pairing: Harry Styles x booktuber!reader
summary: YN and Harry had loved each other for months. The thing was, none of them was brave enough to admit it. So what happened when Harry found the courage and YN made a mistake the night before?
word count: ~1,4k
warnings: mentions of sex (nothing explicit), angst!, heartbreak, and some feels from Harry
a/n: Thank you so much for requesting and your lovely words!
blurb weekend prompts blurb#1
booktuber!reader: part 1 part 2
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Well, YN never was good with dealing with her emotions. There were always two options: run from it or make a decision that you’d regret the next day. She tried to take option one all the time, but making mistakes was engraved in her life story (like in anybody else’s). Lately, or should it be said, yesterday, she made a mistake she felt was going to ruin her most valuable relationship - her friendship with Harry. 
“YN, please. Don’t tell me you went home with him,” her best friend screamed into the phone. 
YN looked over her shoulder, gazing at the man sleeping in her bed. The duvet was placed over his lower body, exposing his muscular back painted with black tattoos. His curly hair was splayed across one of her least favourite cushions, creating a brown nest. In a good way. 
“And what if I did?”
“Did you look at him even once last night?!”
She moved out of the bedroom, closing the door after herself, so as to not disturb the sleeping man. 
“Of course I did,” she scoffed. 
“So you know what you did.”
YN sighed into her phone. Of course, she knew what she did.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
YN moved around the kitchen taking things out of the cabinets and fridge to make some breakfast. She started her newly bought express, needing some caffeine. If she was going to get through this phone call, she needed as much help as she could get. Well, then she would need to face the man from the bedroom, but it was a task for a ‘future her’. 
“You slept with Harry’s doppelganger!”
Right. In her bed was a sleeping 6 feet tall man with darkish brown hair and tattoos almost all over his body. In the club last night, she couldn’t distinguish more details than those, but she needed something, someone to help her forget him. The appearance closer to someone she was attracted to was just a plus. 
When the lights were illuminating the man's face she knew how ironic it all was. His cheekbones were high and sharp just as his jawline perfectly accented. The dimples deep into his cheeks whenever he was sending her that white smile. And those green eyes. Right there, she deep down knew he wasn’t there to help her forget about Harry. No. He was there to somehow be him, to make her feel as if he could ever be hers.
“They look nothing alike,” YN lied, sipping her coffee, cursing after burning her tongue. “Fuck.”
“You’re either blind or delusional. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You’re very supportive, babe.”
“I’m not going to support whatever you’re trying to do. It’s a mistake, YN. Trust me.”
“How do you know?” She raised her voice. “Maybe it’s good for me. I slept with him, it was great. And now I can forget about Harry and move on with my life.”
“You can forget about Harry?”
“Easy. Done.” 
YN placed the coffee mug on the counter with a thud, spilling half of it. She really was over the talk. She decided to have sex with that man, and she did. She didn’t regret it and didn’t lie about it being great. The man, Henry (yes, she knew fate was really messing with her) treated her right. She had a very good night. It was all about the consequences. She didn’t want them to become clean. And all the talk she was having was writing those mistakes with black ink on paper. 
“Is it? Is it that easy to forget about the man you’ve been in love with for months?”
There it was, period on paper. 
And before she could answer anything, there was a sound of knocking echoing through her flat. 
“I need to go. Someone’s at the door. Can we please meet up today?”
“Of course. My place at 5. You bring wine, I make dinner.”
“Okay. Love you, bye.”
After hearing the good bye back, YN moved across the room and towards the door. After unlocking it, having made sure that her bathrobe was covering everything it could, she opened the door. 
Fuck you, fate. 
“YN.”
“Ha- Harry. Hi. Uhm, what are you doing here?”
Now, she felt even more exposed. Couldn’t it be her noisy neighbour or the courier with the delivery she had been waiting for for days? 
“Well,” he started slowly, immediately halting in thought for a moment. “I don’t really know. Can I come in?”
“It’s really not the best time.”
Puzzles had been slowly being put together in his brain. After waking up today and seeing YN’s post on instagram he felt part of his heart breaking. He covered his feelings for her deep inside, praying for them to never come up. He put on the role of a best friend and was proud of it. He could never jeopardise that friendship. YN was somebody that he knew his soul was searching for. 
“I just need a few minutes.” 
“Maybe during lunch? At that bistro you’d talked about?”
“YN, please.” 
He knew that if he didn’t say anything right now, he’d never do it. When the courage was still in his veins, he had to use it. Whatever would follow, that would be his fate. 
“I can’t stop thinking of you. You’re in my mind when I wake up, looking up at the ceiling you sprayed with that wine, thinking that I should really paint it. You’re in my mind when I make breakfast, because of that time when we were doing it together and you got the email about your grandad’s shop being sold to you. It always makes me smile, thinking how happy you were at that moment. You’re in my mind when I’m driving down to Chesire, pointing out all the yellow doors you were so infatuated by, when you drove to mum’s with me. You’re in my mind when I fall asleep, remembering how many times I held you in my arms and felt whole. And- and I can’t do any of those without thinking of you. You’re engraved in my mind. In my heart.”
Harry took a deep breath and finally looked at YN. Her eyes were glossy, looking at him with that look he could never distinguish and put in any category. The one thing he admitted to not know about her - that look. 
Through his whole monologue she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She was in his mind. She was something that he couldn’t possibly forget. She was his. And that feeling, that love for him was beaming from her eyes. The look of love. 
“Harry, I-”
“You don’t need to say anything, really.” He started rambling, somehow embarrassed that he had let himself out like that. “You don’t need to say that you feel the same way. I can deal with rejection. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have come.”
“No. Stay,” she said immediately, reaching for his hand. 
She felt the electricity going through Harry’s palm to hers and straight to her heart. She looked into his eyes, searching for any grain of doubt in his feelings, finding none. 
“Harry, I can’t express how long I’ve been waiting to tell you this.” She laughed, not believing that she was going to admit everything. “I lo-”
“YN?” 
Harry’s eyes moved from YN’s, landing at the source of the interruption. His hopeful eyes lost the spark in milliseconds. His smile faded and the grip of his fingers on hers, loosen. He was a fool, believing that she could feel the same. He felt betrayed. Even more when the stranger turned around and locked his eyes with Harry. 
Harry took a step back, diverting his eyes from the man and then back to YN. Puzzles were tossed on the ground and with each second stepped on, losing colour and making the outlines unreadable. 
YN looked over her shoulder, seeing Henry standing near her couch in nothing but his underwear. She wanted to think that ‘it couldn’t be happening right now’, but she knew better. The decisions she had made yesterday and regretted, backfired on her. The decision, which just now, was costing her the friendship she was so protective of. The love she was so afraid to fall into. It all was drifting away. 
“Harry,” YN whispered, trying to find the words to explain the situation. 
“It’s okay.” Words, like venom, were sipping out of his tongue. Even Harry didn’t like the way it sounded or the tone he used. “No need to explain. I think you have someone to get back to. Have a good day, YN.” 
And just like that he was gone. And so were their hopes that it all could have turned out the way they dreamed about. 
Fate really was heartless.
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