#am i even making sense. who cares. this argument is dumb as hell.

[mxdotpng]

i think the whole "miles is ALSO spider man" debate becomes worthless when you realize miles is in fact referred to as spider man in every single rendition of him..... except for the ones aimed at 4-8 year olds. which at that point makes your argument mean nothing

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXIII)

Chapter 23 : ‘Even the dearest that I loved the best are strange – nay, rather, stranger than the rest’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! One of my favs, to be honest, it’s one of the first chapters I wrote for this fic, so it had a special place in my heart.

Also, Saoirse and Sean are back! I’m also making a reference to a documentary in this chapter, I was thinking about Brainwashed directed by Nina Menkes, you can check it out if you’d like!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3694

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

I am

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems; Even the dearest that I loved the best Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky.

John Clare

Andrew was fucking panicking.

Bloody panicking.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it had to be useful at one point to have an older brother… right?

Andrew would never admit that he needed reassurance, that he needed guidance, a protective figure to pat him on the back and tell him what to do next, and that it was the reason why he had driven to his brother’s on that Monday night. Of course not. Jon was his brother after all. Andrew would never admit any of that out loud, even if it were true.

The hike had happened the day before, that moment he had realised he was falling in love with you. That he was in love with you.

Bloody hell…

“So, let me get this clear…” Jon spoke with his elbows resting on his knees, bent over and leaning towards Andrew, struggling to gather his thoughts. “You thought you were still in love with Sam. Who left you for your colleague’s ex. And you thought ‘hey, what dumb idea could I bring to the table today’ and it led you to try to get back with the woman who cheated on you…”

“She didn’t cheat on me, she left me before she got with Frank.”

“How do you know that? Did you ask her?”

“Frank told Y/N he broke up with her before anything happened with Sam.”

“And she dumped you two weeks after he dumped her. You don’t know what happened.”

Andrew felt a lump creeping up his throat again, and he averted his gaze, rubbing roughly at his collarbone.

“Anyway, let’s move on…” Jon brushed the argument away with a quick gesture of the hand. “You tried to get back with Sam and to help Y/N get back with Frank… and then you fell in love with Y/N. Your colleague. Whom you share an office with.”

“I mean… yeah, kind of… I guess…”

Jon buried his face in his hands.

“I swear to God, Andy… it looks like you purposefully want to ruin your own life.”

“I can’t control the way I feel, Jon!”

“This is madness! She’s in love with her ex!”

“I know!”

Andrew’s voice was shaking more than he wanted it to. Jon looked up at him, reading him like an open book, and Andrew hated it.

“I know, okay?!” Andrew went on, voice still shaking while his throat tightened. “I know! I know I’ve fucked up everything with Sam! I know she got better than me! I know I’ve never stood a chance at getting her back! And I know Y/N is too good for me! I know we’re colleagues and that would complicate everything! And I know, I fuck… fucking know that she’s in love with someone else! I know! I know but I don’t know how to fix this! So can you, for once, be useful and tell me what to do now? Cause… I… I don’t know… Jon, I don’t know…”

God, Andrew hated himself for breaking in front of his brother, for letting the tears escape, but he couldn’t help it. This was too much. He simply couldn’t handle this…

Before he could add anything, Jon had stood up from his armchair and was sitting next to his brother on his couch. He didn’t say a word as he pulled him into a hug.

“Come on, Andy… it’s gonna be fine. You’ll be just fine.”

“Christ… I’m so fucking lost… I don’t know what to do Jon…”

“Do you truly love her? Y/N? Or is she just a rebound.”

“I don’t know…”

He was lying. Of course, Andrew was lying, because he couldn’t say it out loud, how could he? He couldn’t say it to himself… he couldn’t feel like that again…

“Say it. Say it out loud.”

Jon would get it out of him, and Andrew knew that he needed to let it out, to embrace the feeling, but it was so painful… pulling on a knife stuck in a bleeding wound…

“Andy… say it. Answer me.”

Andrew closed his eyes, resting his cheek on his brother’s shoulder, looking across the room. There were posters in black and white of old movies on each wall, and across from Andrew, James Dean was staring at him, a cigarette in his mouth. And Andrew stared at those eyes in black and white, and they stared back. Unwavering. Immortalised on paper and ink. Young, free, rebellious, without a cause…

“I love her,” Andrew whispered. “I love her, Jon. I’m falling more and more every time I see her.”

“Is it serious? Or just a crush?”

Andrew shrugged.

“I’m in love. I feel… like I could love her more than I’ve ever loved Sam… How can I feel like that? I thought Sam was the one! I thought we would stay together, I… I thought about marrying her at one point!”

“She wasn’t good for you, Andy.”

“You sound like mom. And dad.”

“When were they ever wrong? About anything?”

Andrew sniffed, knowing damn well the answer, refusing to admit it.

“She was nice enough,” Jon conceded. “She was smart, beautiful, successful… but she didn’t care enough, Andy. She didn’t care enough about you. She was selfish, in her way of loving you. You deserve better than that.”

Andrew pondered these words, wanted to believe them, couldn’t…

“What do I do now? It’s a mess…”

“Yeah, it’s messy… But you’ll be fine. You need to do whatever makes you happy.”

“What a shitty answer. Did you find it in a bloody fortune cookie or something?”

“Do you still want to be with Sam?”

Andrew took a moment to think.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think so… I don’t know…”

“Do you want to be with Y/N?”

“She doesn’t want that…”

“That was not my question.”

Andrew struggled to swallow, but nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, I want her.”

“Then, love her. Maybe, with a bit of time, she’ll love you too.”

“What do I do to make her love me?”

But Jon chuckled.

“I’m single, remember? How am I supposed to know that?”

Valid point. But Andrew reckoned that he could at least try. He could find the things you didn’t like, he could change… maybe… be better for you…

There was silence for a moment, Andrew sniffed, looking at James Dean still. It was raining outside, as per usual. On the windowpane close to the poster, raindrops formed lines that turned the world into a blur. Dublin was but rough shapes and patches of brown, grey and white.

“How did you realise?”

“What?” Andrew croaked.

“That you love Y/N.”

“I won’t tell you. You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I won’t laugh. You’re crying.”

“Like that has ever stopped you before!”

“Come on, I know you’re truly upset, I won’t take the piss. Tell me.”

Andrew heaved a sigh.

“We went hiking yesterday. And the day was so great, she was so funny… and then we took a break and she had brought snacks, and… she had all my favourites. Like… it was so fucking sweet…”

Jon started chuckling.

“She brought you snacks, and you fell for her?”

“You don’t understand.”

Andrew broke their hold, got up in a jolt. He was rubbing at his collarbone again.

“She… she did that for me. And she… she knows me… like… she knew what I liked. That’s… I don’t know how to explain it. I felt so… understood… like… Like I wasn’t on my own for a moment, you know? Like there was actually someone who cared enough about me to go through all the trouble of learning what I like and showing it… just to make me happy. Like…”

Andrew heaved a sigh.

“Anyway… I knew you’d laugh at me.”

“If I give you a cracker, will you declare your undying love for me?”

“Fuck off!”

Before he could tell his brother another insult, Jon was throwing a cushion at his head, making Andrew huff as he lost his balance for a second.

He was laughing again as he picked up the cushion and threw it back.

But that didn’t answer his question.

What would Andrew do now?

When he eventually got home, he wasn’t sleepy at all. Instead of going to bed, he scrolled aimlessly on his phone, wasting his time on social media. Once he had enough of it, he decided to organise his photos on his phone. He put them into files, kept some messily saved without any home.

And then he reached the pictures he had taken the previous day, of your hike. Landscape, trees, clouds, and you… you standing on top of that hill, while the world laid at you feet. Your red scarf, Elwood sitting by your feet. Your beanie, your warm coat. You were a silhouette on this picture, and yet he loved it, loved that feeling that you were towering over the world. His world.

He pressed his thumb on his screen a few times, and then admired his work. When he unlocked his phone again, instead of seeing Sam’s smiling face, he was seeing your frame among the Wicklow Hills.

He heaved a sigh.

What would Andrew do now?

Saoirse was fucking panicking.

Bloody panicking.

Essays were piling up and it was a bloody nightmare. A FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

She was going to fail. She was going to fail all of her exams, and especially the one about 20th century literature, because… who the fuck was mad enough to make a class about the fucking modernist avant-garde, huh?

Professor Hozier-Byrne was, of course. Of bloody course. It had to be the nicest of them too, and the hottest, and the one who actually gave two fucks about his students… which meant that she couldn’t even be mad at him and curse at him for the suffering she was enduring as she struggled with this James Joyce novel… For Christ’s sake…

She heaved a painful sigh, hitting repeatedly her head against her table. Sean merely laughed at her.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad. It is worse. It is DEATH! I don’t understand a bloody thing about that fucking novel.”

“It could be worse, we could be studying Ulysses, it’s only The portrait.”

“Yes, and I could catch the plague and meet my certain death, but I can still die if I catch pneumonia.”

“You’re exaggerating. Wait until we switch to Beckett. And apparently we’re gonna study The Third Policeman as well…”

She let out a long moan, faking a sob, her forehead pressed to the table, where her notes and books were scattered. She looked up at her computer screen.

“As if Woolfe was not enough already… Please… kill me… death will be a sweeter fate than this torture…”

She didn’t notice the way Sean smiled, with something tender tugging at his lips. But he did. He did, because warmth was spreading across his chest at her antiques, and he thought about how adorable she looked like this, being silly while studying and being ten times smarter than him.

“I’ll help you with that essay if you give me a hand with Y/L/N’s… Oscar Wilde is kicking my arse.”

“Ha! That I understand!” she sat up, happy again, and speaking a little too loudly in the busy but quiet library.

She mouthed a silent sorry as a couple of students glared at her.

“Y/L/N’s class is so much easier to me,” she went on. “I can’t with this bloody… stream of consciousness and whatnot.”

Sean was about to answer when he noticed that Saoirse wasn’t listening anymore, looking over his shoulder.

“What…?” he made a movement to turn around, but the girl stopped him with a hiss, reaching across the table to grab his forearm, and the contact dazzled him too much to allow him to move again.

“H-B and Y/L/N are right behind you.”

“And?”

“And… I want to listen on their conversation, obviously. Don’t you want to know the tea?”

He rolled his eyes, but focused to catch their words too anyway.

“Mr. Darcy? The Jane Austen character? Really?” Andrew said in a whisper, clearly unimpressed. “You’re saying that the perfect man, the fictional character that sets unreachable standards… is a guy from the 19th century? That’s not very modern of you…”

You turned around, eyeing him up and down in a judgemental way.

He was following you across the library, the book he wanted to borrow tucked under his arm. He didn’t need to go through the 19th century section, he wasn’t working on that. But you did. So, Andrew followed you around, just to keep you close for a moment, just to keep talking to you for a little longer than your impromptu encounter in the hall of the library about fifteen minutes ago, when you entered and he was about to reach the counter to borrow his book. You didn’t know that though. He had pretended that he had another book to look for but had asked for help. You had believed him, of course, why wouldn’t you?

And now you were giving him a lecture on the female gaze in literature, apparently…

“Mr. Darcy is the perfect example of the use of the female gaze, as opposed to the male gaze.”

“I mean… he’s kind of a jerk at the beginning. He fixes his mistakes, but he started as a gobshite.”

But you shook your head, scanning the shelf while you kept on talking.

“But that’s the point. He fixes his mistakes thinking it will change nothing. He doesn’t improve and changes because he thinks it’s going to lead to Elizabeth loving him. He changes because she makes him see how much of a jerk he can be, how he acted from only his point of view, without taking her into account. And her rejection makes him reevaluate his decisions. He fixes things because he realises he hurt her and those she loved, but his intention is not bound to have what he wants, only to stop her suffering. Female gaze, versus male gaze. And that is, obviously, without mentioning the treatment of female characters in Austen’s novels. Characters with minds, and feelings, and wants, and wills… who make mistakes, and take decisions. Instead of a passive vessel under a male gaze, either to project a want, a longing, lust, love, fear, morals… ”

You were expecting Andrew to argue, because men always did. No matter your degree, and your expertise on the female gaze, on this very question, they always did.

Female gaze versus male gaze. Bloody misogyny…

But Andrew merely stared at you, and you could see in his slight frown that his brain was working at full speed. And when he spoke, it was to ask a new question, not contradict you.

“So… the fact that Darcy acts in a self-sacrificing way is what defines the female take on a character of his type?”

There was no judgement in his question, you were surprised by it.

“You can put it like that. It’s more… the fact that after being rejected for good, he steps back. Yes, you can see it as something like sacrifice, or genuine altruism or compassion. He still loves her, but he understands that she doesn’t, and instead of showing off and trying to make her change her mind, he steps back, accepts it, and reassesses his choices accordingly, without the occasion of winning her heart by doing so. He fixes his mistakes and keeps on protecting her because he loves her, not because he can get her back that way.”

Slowly, Andrew nodded.

“I think I get it. And that’s… unreachable for any real man for you?”

His tone was less serious again, drawing the conversation towards something less theoretical. You scoffed.

“Well, I haven’t found a counter-example yet.”

Andrew seemed to hesitate before speaking again, but he couldn’t hold back his question.

“Do you think Frank would have failed that test? That he would have disappointed you in that situation?”

You scoffed again.

“Like he hasn’t already disappointed me…”

You heaved a sigh, picking up a book and checking the summary on the back.

“Anyway, it’s alright. That’s why Mr. Darcy is fictional.”

Andrew gave you a smile, nodding and deciding to stir the conversation away from Frank again. It was making his heart ache a little too much…

“I saw yesterday that there is a documentary on TV on Sunday afternoon, about the male gaze in cinema. It seems very interesting. Would you like to watch it with me? I could cook us lunch too.”

You looked at him, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah, I… I saw that but… you want to watch that?”

He frowned a little, tilting his head, puzzled by your surprise.

“Yeah, totally. It seems to be very interesting. And… I mean… you’re literally an expert on the subject, even if you’re specialised in literature rather than cinema… So, it would be nice to have your input on that.”

You blinked, still surprised.

“I… yeah… yeah, that would be great.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Andrew chuckled to hide his burning cheeks. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No! That’s… surprising, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“You… never mind.”

“No, tell me. How is it surprising? I think your research is very interesting, and very much needed. I… I genuinely want to hear your take on this.”

“That’s…” you heaved a sigh, but gave him an earnest answer. “It’s just that… coming from a man, it’s pretty surprising.”

His face fell.

“Oh… I see.”

“Misogyny in the academic world is more common than feminism…”

“Yeah… yeah, I understand. I get it.”

“It’s just… usually men try to pretend that they are the expert on the subject I study for a living. So… that was impressive enough to hear you recognise that I’m the expert here. But then you’re even curious about women’s point of view… yeah, surprising, to say the least. I shouldn’t react like that though. I know you’re a feminist, I’m sorry. It’s just… a biased reflex.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that. What a band of fucking pricks…”

You raised a surprised eyebrow again.

“Wow… he can curse like an actual sailor!”

Andrew rolled his eyes at your teasing, an amused smile on his lips still forming.

“Right… so, are you coming over on Sunday? Or am I making you work extra-hours and you’d rather just sleep and eat your weight in ice-cream?”

“I’ll come. And if you’re nice to me, I’ll even bring dessert.”

“Deal. Can’t wait.”

You opened your mouth to speak again, your eyes glimmering happily, but Andrew shut you down.

“No, you can’t buy a new toy for Elwood! My dog will end up loving you more than he loves me.”

“That has been my devilish plan from the beginning.”

You tucked the book you had been looking at under your arm.

“Okay, I’m all set.”

But Andrew had one more question, another one that he hesitated to ask, but he took the risk anyway, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck as he spoke again.

“Y/N?”

You turned to him again, silently inviting him to continue.

“If you were Elizabeth, and Frank was Mr. Darcy, what would you ask him to change for you?”

You blinked, surprised at his question, and you pondered on his words for a moment. But your answer was still earnest.

“Not breaking my heart.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled.

“And just… I don’t know… to…”

You hesitated, but answered anyway.

“To ask me about my day. I would have really liked it if he had asked about my days when we were together.”

You exchanged a sad smile. And Andrew spoke his next question the final one, the most important one too, the one that made him truly scared of your answer.

“And if you were Elizabeth, and I was Mr. Darcy… what would I need to change?”

You frowned at his question, and opened your mouth to answer, before closing it again.

“I… I don’t know. Honestly, I… I don’t know. I can’t really think about anything. I mean… you were never a jerk to begin with, so…” you added with a warm smile.

And at first, he smiled back, but then you turned around and he clenched his jaw. He tightened his hold on his book as you moved along the shelf. He couldn’t help the longing in his eyes.

Despite that answer, despite having nothing to change in him at first sight… you still wanted Frank, instead of him… God, he wished you could have told him what was wrong with him. What had made him unworthy of Samantha, but most importantly… what made him unworthy of you.

Andrew heaved a sigh, followed you with his head and shoulders bent, and he tried to hide his feelings when you turned around again, stirring up a new topic of conversation while you exited the room.

Meanwhile, Saoirse and Sean had listened to the conversation. When she focused on him again, Saoirse grabbed both of his arms and energetically shook him, shouting in a whisper.

“OH. MY. GOD!” she whispered, her voice made raspy by the cry she was refraining. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

“Huh… yeah, they… were… talking…”

“Talking? TALKING?! Sean! THEY ARE IN FUCKING LOVE! H-B is at least. HEAD OVER HEELS! Did you not see that longing in his eyes when she answered? AND THAT FUCKING QUESTION?! WHO ASKS QUESTIONS LIKE THAT?! WHO IS READY TO CHANGE FOR THE WOMAN HE IS FUCKING PINNING OVER?!”

“God’s sake, stop shaking me!”

She let go of him, out of breath.

“Oh my God, they are so CUTE! Do you think they will end up together? I hope so, they seem so cute! They would be so cute! And they’re both so nice, they totally would make each other happy! I hope he’ll make her change her mind, cause the girl seems fucking oblivious…”

“Don’t you think that you’re… overreacting? Overreading into this?”

She rolled her eyes, slapping her palm against her forehead.

“Men are so fucking stupid,” she complained.

Truer words were rarely spoken…

[brainyrot]

Chews on your screen. Any new fanfic updates? (No rush no rush)

Sorry if it's kinda short! I got lost in playing poker and blackjack on the speakeasy!

"bendy! Ugh- cussing stardust. Where the hell is he?!"

"did you even had to say that in front of him?! Now who knows what he could've doing! Or happening to him! Last time he went crazy! He almost killed all of us because he thought Boris was dead!"

"Sorry it slipped from my mouth okay?! stop with the blaming game because it ain't working toots! You're only making things worse."

"And where are we even going? This place is a maze! We'll never find him!"

"There's an elevator! Should we use it?" Suddenly mugman pointed out in the middle of the argument, racing along with the others to who knows where.

"And how are we gonna use it mugs? We don't even know where the hell bendy is!" The cup shouted, stressed and nervous for everyone's well-being. His chest already hurting, his body begging him to stop and breathe.

"I don't know! The only options are going down by the stairs or by the elevator, and to not waste any energy or encounter any threats I say we go with the elevator."

"He's got a point Cuphead.."

"Fine! Fine we'll use the elevator, which floor?"

"Just, pick one who cares." and so he did. Random floor.

tense. So much tense. Panting, nervous sighing, worried faces. All for a small demon that disappeared.

"It should be easy to find him, last time he was as big as a whole ship!" That's also true.

"let's hope he ain't too mad,," he mumbled to himself, the wheezing cup.

"oh bendy.." the feline watched as the floors went by, until it stopped to one.

A desert. nothing but ink, not even furniture.

Just some wooden planks and ink, and some..sense of danger. But it's always been like this since they've been stuck here.

But something doesn't feel right.

"Stay behind me." He said. "I'll quickly check." He said.

But once one foot was outside of the elevator, an inky hand grabbed him right arm, the one he uses to shoot. "ACK—UGH- WHAT THE C-" a giant smirk, melting face, and a faint, growling laugh.

"..I..am the ink...demon..." He whispered, loudly enough to be heard from the walls. "and you.. must be those..pets..that have been screaming around all..day." he examined the hand, gripping it so hard it felt like it was gonna break.

another finger gun appeared, trying to be scary. Funny.

The girl was shaking, the cat was too, but knew how to hide it.

"Ugh..-i-..be-..let- go-" it felt like black hat was holding his hand, a sea of memories coming back to him.

"Wh- who are you?!" Mugman asked, out of panic, I don't think he hard him talk before.

"I..am who you know..as..bendy." he laugh at his own name, at their faces. At how dumb their were.

"And this hand is coming..with me."

Crack.

[liliansun]

no one particularly cares but i need this moment to vent bc i’m on the verge of tears and i wanna smash a pumpkin against my wall. and like,, if for some reason you read this lmk if i’m being unreasonable bc i feel like i am but then again i’m not.

so my bf is going into the military and he’s gonna be leaving in december right? so he just left meps today and got to his house and said his family pushed his birthday dinner from tonight (it’s his birthday today) to tomorrow night. i was like okay, he was gonna come over in the morning and we hang out w my baby and then he was gonna skedaddle off to the bday dinner with his family.

with this information i was gonna make him a cake and surprise him bc i didn’t get to see him today. so then he tells me his dad pushed it off to wherever so he was gonna go out w his guy friends to hang out and plan for the bday dinner to be later this weekend and i’m like okay and he tells me he’s gonna come by later in the day tomorrow instead of the morning bc he’s out w the boys. i’m like okay, have fun and be safe and i update him and yada yada. so then he tells me he’s going to texas which is like a few states over (4+ hour drive in the night) and i’m in the middle of a cod mobile game and i’m thinking to myself. wtf? bc in my head that contradicted the whole plans he kept changing for tomorrow (context: i was off today and tomorrow) and then he’s like nvm my friends voted against it and idk if you think like me but i thought that was dumb as hell.

so then i’m in a sour mood, i lost my br match bc i was so just out of it bc i’m like wtf? sure go do whatever you wanna do w your friends,, but if we made plans to hang out how tf do you expect me to feel when you plan to go state hopping instead. so we get into this discussion which i don’t want to call an argument and he’s like “i’m sorry but at the same time i’m not” and i’m like. elaborate. bc that shit didn’t make sense to me. “he’s like i’m sorry i’m being difficult but i’m not sorry bc i assumed you had no plans for tomorrow. well sir,, i was trying to SURPRISE you and idk if me asking a million times what time you wanted to come over didn’t give a hint?? guess not?? but okay and i’m trying to end the conversation bc i’m annoyed and he’s annoying me even more by wanting to talk it all out right here rn and i’m the type of person who needs time to think over everything,, collect my thoughts and readdress it once i’m clear headed and can see where i was wrong and he’s not

and then we get to the point of conversation where he’s like well what do you have planned for tomorrow and i’m like nothing now, you wanna go out w your friends so go out w them and he’s like we’re not going and im like okay, so go do something else w them i’m just not in the mood and he’s like no i wanna see you and i’m thinking to myself that i don’t particularly wanna see him but ik it’s bc i’m in a bad mood and maybe i’ll feel better in the morning maybe i won’t but rn i’m like stay the hell away from me before i start crying. and he’s like well the latest i’ll be by is 3 and i’m like okay. nice. and he’s like my recruiter might need me around 4 ish and i’m like. so you mean to tell me you wanna drive 40 minutes to my house to turn around and drive another 30 minutes and come back for another 30 minutes?? this is coming from the man that literally told me earlier today “since i’m quitting my job bc i’m going into the military, i don’t wanna be reckless w my spending till then”

so i mention that bc that’s a waste of gas and idk where y’all live but that shit ain’t cheep here and he tells me to let him worry about that and i’m like okay bc atp i’m done having the conversation and he’s trying to be lovey dovey and i’m about to throw my phone into the gulf and cry to tswift songs bc i just don’t know what to do.

part of me is like let him come bc he’s gonna be gone soon and you don’t know how long or where he’s gonna be at for boot camp and part of me is like he didn’t take in consideration the fact that he made plans with me and threw them out the fucking window on the highway while he was keke giggling at the thought of driving idek how many hours away and sleeping with his friends in his friends’ car.

so yeah. if you’ve made it this far on my lil ted talk, i love you. i think i’m genuinely gonna go cry and hold my baby and just try to sleep bc my head hurts and my heart hurts and i feel like i’m being irrational but at the same time i feel like i have a right to feel this way.

[watery-pancake]

breaking the cycle

we text everyday

and call every night

but it was until the other day, when i talked for so long. you never even gave me a response, or acknowledgement. you never apologized, until i was the one to bring it up. the next night, we called for 4 hours, and the entire time you played games. i doubt you ever even noticed when i muted myself. not like it makes a difference, since you ignore everything else i say anyways. ive been distant, but i doubt you'll reach out to ask what is wrong. or even care how i feel.

i realized it when showering. when i was trying to sleep. when i brush my teeth, and when i put on my shoes. you never really cared about how i feel, did you? it makes sense why every argument turned the way it did. i made the mistake of talking about how i feel so you could understand, and every single time it resulted in you getting so angry you'd say something you regret. the only reason you even reached out to me every time was just because you missed the attention and love i gave you. not because you felt guilty or whatever.

we were with my friends and i cut the cake, and i cut the cake for everyone. there were no plates left for me. all you said was to remind me to cut a cake for the parents. you never even noticed i had to go get my own plate for myself. it was my friend who noticed and apologised and felt dumb for not getting enough plates. i felt more sympathy from a friend than you.

every single time after sex, you just go on your phone. i never really minded, since when i asked you said i could cuddle with you and we could look at memes together. but then, now you just hop on games after, leaving me to clean my mess alone and lie on the bed. just like my ex did. if not that, then you would just scroll on your phone and not even acknowledge im there for another couple hours if i didn't say anything. even when i brought it up, you never did anything.

you promised me you would change. and you lied.

so why should i text. why should i call. like i miss you?

when we text, you just want to talk about yourself and couldn't care less what i have to say. when we call, it's about me watching you play games or listening to you talk, but once i do, you just scroll on your phone when i talk or play games. even if you try to tell me that you want me to talk about what's wrong, what's the point? same cycle, you do something shitty, i bring it up, you argue with me and turn it into my fault. i defend and explain what i felt, you say something you regret, and i hang up. then after a couple days, you miss my attention enough to give an on- the- spot apology. then i naturally forgive, and we 'move on'. and by moving on, you continue the same thing, and i love you less. because i never forget it. and you never make an effort to improve on your shitty habits. so why the hell should i even bring up what's wrong?

what, like it'll change anything?

i dont get why i keep coming back. the hopeless romantic that always believes in the love you state you have for me? its probably what you just saw in your ex anyways. you hate my culture, since you make fun of it at every chance. you hate how i was homeless, since you love to remind me every time i say i like any food. you hate how thin my hair is, since you love to bring it up. you hate all my hobbies, since you call all of them dumb and point out every single flaw in them. god forbid i enjoy anything. you hate how smart i am, since every time i make a slight mistake you use it as a chance to make a dig at it or use it to weaponize against me. a slight mistake is overblown every. single. time. you hate how i have no good support system, since what am i supposed to do? go to my boyfriend for love and support and comfort? what an idiot right.

you say you love everything about me, but actions speak louder than words. and im tired of excuses. you just don't like me. you like my attention and what i do for you. you don't like ME.

you know my deepest secrets. you know i've never found a good love. but yet you continue to never be it. never be the one i can lean on. i have no one to lean on. no one i can be vulnerable with. no one who can support me and take weight off my shoulders.

i'm tired of it all.

[kimarisgundam]

I want to add on to the other ask. If we are following Cyberpunk Red terminology "output" now means "the receiving partner" and "input" means "the giving partner".

The terms used to mean the opposite during the 2020 era so there's some confusion among the community now.

But to add on to what the other Anon mentioned: Yes, there is a difference between "mainline" and "output".

Which term did your party's rockerboy use? Because "mainline" implies a serious relationship.

And I'm honestly surprised you aren't jumping on him because you are usually the romantic kind, Kima.

I think you have blinders on now because you are in survival mode. I understand, Night City is a harsh place. But to everyone else looking objectively at the situation, it's very clear this rockerboy has been pining for your PC for a very long time.

We aren't there to see the situation in real time. But based on what I can read, you are the one misreading the situation.

Mental health is very important in Night City. Do you have a name? Why don't you sit down with me and have a talk about your feelings?

Ooh I didn't know the terms changed. Thanks for telling me! I also didn't know that mainline means something serious 😅

Yeah, my friend's character said "mainline". But I stand by what I said though

He was an NPC from our Nomad's backstory. He's the guy who's her "bad romance". The literal guy she can't get over cos he's still leading her on

^ He's just always like that, plus he hit his head pretty hard in the recent fight. He's just delirious now and talking nonsense (more nonsense than usual 😅)

*ahem...*

My name is confidential. Are you talking to me as doctor? I don't mind chatting if you're a psychotherapist...

Maybe I can screenshot this and show it to my DM and say I had a free therapy session online 😂

I need to recover some humanity anyway, I lost some recently but have no time to sit down and talk to my psychotherapist 😅

Feelings... if I'm speaking as my character... May I be honest with you? I'll go to hell for saying this but...

I'm resentful. I resent the Rockerboy even though he's my best friend. I regret helping him escape, should have let my bro interrogate him to death

I hate the guy cos he's always doing/saying things that make me realise what a bad person I am. Like, why do you always have to put my wellbeing above yourself?

I'd hate myself less if I knew my friend was capable of being just as ruthless as me. But noooooo. He has to be the "good guy"

So what am I? The "selfish guy"?

Stop apologising. I'm the one who escalated the argument and actually said something hurtful. I should be the one apologising first

I don't even know what the heck is wrong with me. My nickname is Mako cos of my sponsor's pet mako shark. I'm cold, ruthless and I don't question orders from my sponsor

But hanging out with my choom makes my IQ drop. Our Rockerboy is so dumb he doesn't know what a shark is. I had to bring him to the public tank at Arasaka to see one. But he looked at the guppies in the next tank and started calling me "guppy"

And I hate myself for laughing

I hate that for a moment, I actually believed him when he said we could just leave the city and restart or friendship without our baggage. That Braindance he shared made me happy because I was having fun

Fun isn't allowed >:U ! My brother is right, he's putting dumb ideas into my head. I can't believe I considered trying to leave Arasaka

My sponsor gave me everything. I have a debt to repay to Arasaka. What kind of irresponsible person abandons their duty just cos they want to leave the city and see the stars with a choom?

I really really really hate my choom for making me doubt myself and my sense of duty

So there. These are my feelings, and I'm a bad person. Are you happy >:U ?

My big bro is the only other person to care about me this much. I don't know how to react to someone else being this nice to me

I can't control him like how I control our Solo. Our Solo is younger, so maybe that's why he listens. But I dislike it when I'm not in control

I don't like how I'm going so far to protect someone who's not my real family

It's irrational, the lengths I go to just to bail him out of trouble. But I can't bring myself to let my only close friend get hurt and it's driving me insane

[arrogantsonofabiscuit]

Arguing with their s/o and how do they sleep after the argument

A/n:- help me with the fic names someone 😓🥲.

Genre :- angst—> fluff, mentions of pet names! 

Feat:- Kuroo , Sakusa , Oikawa, Kita

Sakusa Kiyoomi:-

So basically you and him had gone on a date in a very neat and clean café according to you since you knew Kiyoomi’s germaphobe nature. And what was the best part was the fact that the café was in a secluded corner of the city so you thought why not right? Nothing could go wrong  ……..right?

Nuhuh honey. This is how the date went down in your diary!

So the weather seemed very pleasant it seemed like the clouds did not know rain okay? So why the hell did the clouds understand the concept of rain and now it was cloudy! Like why now? Couldn’t you rain later? But no the luck is rarely with you lol.

So now you sit on the cold chair in the café with soaking wet pants, you were cursing under your breath and could feel the cold air of the aircon hit your back. Great just great!

Sakusa approaches the quite corner of the café and watches your wet and dirtied form shivering under the cold weather.

He looked agitated and looked away and asked you to take a bath as soon as you guys leave the café.

As soon as you enter the doorway of your apartment still soaking wet and feeling very cold , you hear Sakusa mumble something . “Why did you forget your umbrella?”

“I did not know that it would rain, even the weather report did not mention about it whatsoever!”

He looks at you with a disgusted face which screamed “You are so dirty , go clean yourself”

You quickly rush to your bathroom and take a quick shower , Sakusa enters the bedroom and watches your dirty clothes lying on the ground which was your first mistake dear grave  mistake.

So now you are here sleeping in your huge bed with backs facing each other. Great y/n just great.

Its 2:11 am at night where you are at one edge of the bed looking at the ceiling and observing the various cracks it has. Am I the only one who does this and literally counts them ?      

He was on the other corner of the bed with his eyes wide open as he couldn’t sleep for a second Bruh if you are suffering just make up already! 

You quietly shift to his side of the bed and wrap your arm around his waist, this caused him to whip his head towards your direction but his gaze seemed soft on your features . The way you pouted and looked at him with* those * puppy dog eyes he melted right there. 

He gently wraps his arm around you and nuzzles his head on your neck . You rest your head on his chest and inhale the smell of fresh laundry and well him! 

You guys forgot about the argument you had about him calling you dirty and disgusting which made you angry at him as well as sad. Here you are in each others embrace and dose off quietly with soft snores filled in the room.      

Oikawa Tooru:- 

Okay so hear me out , this guy is a huge tease that’s the way he is. Yohoo.

Arguments with him generally were either he pouted or whined for your attention.

Then how come now that you guys have fought long ago still not talking to each other?

So the reason why you had the argument was because of the fact that you are short and you couldn’t reach the bookshelf to grab the reference book you  needed for studying.

“Tooru, would you please give me the book on the top shelf?”

“No ✨”this mf straight up said no

And you were like “huh”?

You were already having a rough day and this made you mad.

So  you asked a guy sitting near the window of the library, he simply nodded and handed you the book smiling .

Let me tell you Oiks is  a very territorial guy so he was more than pissed at you .

Now you are here in your shared apartment in the same bedroom on the same bed as him , but not facing each other.

You were pouty and so was he, but somehow you always made him feel the warmth he couldn’t get since he was always so busy with his volleyball , dealing with the fan girls , studying and what not, but at the end of the day you were the source of light to help him keep going.

And now finally he whines which causes you to jolt out of the fluffy bed. “What? Did you have a nightmare?” you ask with a concerned look on your face.

He then pats your shoulder and makes you fall on the bed with him and then he gently wraps his arm around your torso and nuzzles into your neck. You kiss the crown of his head and sleep as he hums on your neck which lulled you to sleep . The argument long forgotten.

Kita Shinsuke:-

This guy right here is the whole damn meal and I meant every single word here .

So argument with this whole damn meal guy is impossible right? Like how humanly possible it could be?

How can you argue with this daddy material I mean guy?

Anyways so the reason was that you are clumsy I mean who isn’t a klutz?

He told you to be careful since you were walking recklessly on the wet road because of the rain which had poured half and hour ago.

You legit slipped on the pavement since the water somehow caused you to lose your balance and you just fell which almost keyword almost exposed your underwear.

You apologised on the way home but he seemed to get angry since you did not listen to him.

You then told him that you don’t constantly liked been told what to do? Are you her dad? Kita-san ore no oto-san desuka?

That made him more angry , angry but with the most robotic face like how is it humanly possible ?

Anyways so here you are on your bed reading some stories whereas he was also on the bed but not facing you whatsoever.

It continued till midnight, and you couldn’t get a blink of sleep.

So you quickly glanced at your bicolored haired boyfriend , who seemed to be stiff on his side of bed.

You placed your head on his firm chest and saw him immediately melting in your soft touches.

A warm smile crept on his face as you mumbled apologies against his chest. He apologised too for being too demanding on you.

The room was filled with small snores and  legs tangled with each other under those fluffy blankets.

Kuroo Tetsurou:-

Sir your hand in marriage please.🤲

Neways we all know the great provocation king himself if a mfing tease just like our ol’ oiks

But do you know your limits?

Sometimes he does sometimes he does not.

So now you are upset with him since he made you feel inferior and dumb . That was not the only problem , he called you dumb right in front of his teammates! Way to go Kuroo!

Maths is always a difficult subject calculating shit or what not . You can clearly see the love I have for this subject lol.

The problem was not that difficult you only had to convert your answer to the required unit, which you couldn’t , so its not wrong asking the Smart guy right? The smart guy who is your boyfriend?! Right?

And now cue the song “hello darkness my old friend…” ahem~

You enter the cafeteria with the math book in your hand searching for your boyfriend, it was not difficult to spot him with his hair in all glory.

You nudge his shirt and he smiles and replies “What’s wrong?” you explain him that you can’t seem to get the right answer and its not making any sense.

He takes your book and reads the question. He simply chuckles and replies ”Obviously you can’t find the right answer because you forgot to convert it ! Kitten .” You write down the converted answer but still it did not seem to be right. “Kuroo, I still can’t get it right. Why is it so difficult?”

Yaku and Kai were worried since they knew you weren’t that great in math but they knew that your beloved is gonna tease you for your silly mistake.

He laughs and tells you” You have to divide it not multiply , dummy!”

You pout and hide your flush face since his few teammates laughed at your silly mistake .

So now here you are in your shared apartment doing your homework religiously and not even sparing a glance at your tall boyfriend.

Kuroo was worried because you weren’t looking at him at all nor were asking him any doubts.

You heard Kuroo  click his tongue in irritation and he then leaves the room. You complete your homework and head to bed.

After midnight where both you couldn’t spear a single nap, turned to face each other and that’s when you saw kuroo looking at you with pleading eyes.

“I will forgive you only if you promise me that you won’t do it again and rather help me with it. Do you promise?”

“Yes kitten I do , also could I get some cuddles ? ” he asks sheepishly .

“You don’t need permission for that, here..”you open your arms and allow him to hug you tightly and nuzzle his head on your chest with legs tangled. (cute)

You aced the test!

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are highly appreciated <33

[glytchfic]

We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting. 

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems. 

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’  

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’  

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.  

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

_

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.  

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

_

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?  

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

_

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.  

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.  

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’  

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.  

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.  

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.  

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

_

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.  

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.  

‘Yes, I’m fine.’  

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.  

[yeojaa]

finders keep hers.

reads part two and three.  a drabble about idiots in love because it is literally my favourite trope in the world and also, who can resist a fuck boy!jk and a won't-tell-him!best friend?  c'mon!  also, big thanks to @hobi-gif​ for being the best beta reader i could ever ask for.  xoxo

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.  rating.  ... explicit.  tags.  smut with idiots!  big fucking idiots who do dumb things!  but yeah, unprotected sex (please wrap the willy and don’t be silly), a lil bit of dirty talk, some angst if you squint at the right times.  wc.  2.2k.

“Baby.”  It comes out whiny and breathless, a world away from the usual confidence that spills off of his tongue.  He’s half delirious, grip imprinting itself into the yielding flesh of your thighs.  Each noise he makes sounds like it’s about to fully form before dropping off, stolen by some bliss that seems to reside back behind his eyelids.  It splits and breaks over and over, murmurs of your name and affection and whatever else he can think of in the moment.

You love when he’s like this.  Love that you can bring him to this - a man on his knees (or, more literally, on his back).

“Hm?”  Laughter crawls off your tongue, slinking into the heavy air and dripping into the spaces between you, like the sweat that creeps down your neck and beads at his temples. You punctuate the question with a deliberate roll of your hips, single hand splayed out across the delightfully firm expanse of his chest. 

The noise he makes is sinful - almost beguiling enough for you to stop the slow torture - but you think better of it when he meets your motion with one of his own.  It’s disjointed, far less measured than yours, and driven by a need he can barely articulate.

“Use your words, Kookie.”  

His childhood nickname shouldn’t sound the way it does - like fucking in powder rooms and secluded cabanas.  It should spring forward light and airy, more childhood friendship than unbridled twenty-something year old lust.  

You don’t think he minds, though.  He certainly doesn’t look like he minds.  

“Baby, please.”  He moans it so prettily - like he’s begging for all the stars in the sky - that you want to give it to him.  Want to, but won’t, because that’s not how this goes and you know he’ll thank you for it later.  He always does.

“Please what, Bunny ?”  You’re really teasing now.  You wonder if he’ll hold it against you when he’s back to his senses. 

Back to being Jeon Jungkook, the man with everything. 

“You’re being mean.”  How he manages to huff it when he’s hardly lucid, you’re not sure.  You have to applaud him - reward him - so you do, dragging your fluttering walls off his cock, and all but dropping yourself back upon it.  It’s the first inch you’ve given all afternoon - the first taste of anything other than slow and steady wins the race. 

The grip on your hips borders on painful, the neatly trimmed edges of his nails digging into the pliant tanned skin.  Your own fingers readjust, tweaking his nipple in the way you know he loves, and he nearly flinches away before leaning heavily into your touch, entire chest heaving.

“Fuck me,”  he whines, again, in that voice.  You snicker above him, soothing the red assault lines you’ve left across his torso with sweet brushes of your fingertips and the occasional graze of your lips.

“I am, honey.”

You know he tries to hold in the pent-up energy that radiates through his entire body, buzzing from his toes all the way up his spine.  He bucks beneath you, seeking more, more, more like the greedy brat he is.  

“Nuh uh,”  you repeat, like a scolding school teacher.  “You take what I give - or I’m going home.”

The threat is very real - you’ve done it before - and he immediately stills, eyes flashing wide and earnest up at you.  His thumb rubs soothing circles across your hip bone - right where he’d dug his fingers in only moments earlier.  

“I’m sorry,”  he croaks and you know he means it.  You can hear it in the way he can hardly speak.  He tries again, softer now, with his charm turned up to eleven, tongue swiping over the spit-slicked edge of his bottom lip.  “Please, angel?”  

One hand is halfway up your side, moving with purpose until he finds the sensitive edge of your ribs, touch trailing over where he can feel each individual bone.  He repeats the motion once, twice, before pressing the broad palm of his hand over your right shoulder blade, splaying digits across your back.  You both know how easy it would be for him to drag you chest-to-chest, but he refrains - just looks up at you with those big doe eyes of his.

“Give me what I want, princess.”  He’s pulling out all the stops - dressing you in every pet name imaginable.  “I’ll make it worth your while - make that pretty pussy all messy for me.”

You don’t miss how he’s slowly grinding into you, the friction against your aching clit buzzing in the back of your mind as he whispers his sweet nothings.  

“I don’t know, Bunny.”  You’re playing a very specific role now.  The role of aloof prey-turned-hunter, not a care in the world in sight.  It doesn’t matter that maybe - just maybe, it’s all a very carefully practiced facade.  It’s what he - and you - both need.

Each time you don’t flat out deny him, he’s emboldened.  He ruts his hips into you a little more firmly, fucks himself into you with a little more intention.  You hardly even notice the coil of his hand until the heat from his palm is searing through the delicate skin of your neck, his fingers pressing into the sensitive spot beneath your ear. 

You want to rebuff him a bit longer but Jungkook knows all of your weaknesses and exploits them like a power hungry tyrant.  “I don’t hear a ‘no’ , baby.”  

Not like you can say much of anything when he’s got his hand around your throat.  He knows that just as well as you.  

“Tell me you want this, too.”  He doesn’t need the affirmation but he craves it from you - demandsit by dropping his other hand from your waist to the apex of your thighs.  He repeats himself as he swirls his thumb over your clit, circling it with the lightest of pressure.

His grip on your neck even relents enough to allow an answer to slip past your lips.  In his mind, he’s being very, very lenient. 

You do your best to refrain.  Frankly, you think you do better than most women would.  But there’s still only so much you can take and a sharp, tantalizing pinch to your most sensitive bundle of nerves is not one of them. 

It sparks an inferno through you, heat devouring every ounce of sensibility.  

“Okay, okay!”  You’re matching him in tone, petulence tearing off your tongue.  “I give.”  

He grins - that slow, cat-ate-the-canary thing that demands attention and steals hearts.  The same smile he’s carried his entire life, buck-toothed and adorable.  “That’s right, baby.  I always win.”  Triumph colours his words and you almost roll your eyes;  he stops you with an abrupt repositioning, your sweat-slicked frame pushed off him in a single fluid motion.  You feel like a ragdoll. 

You don’t have time to reprimand him before he’s got you, crowded against your back with his face buried against your nape and his cock brushing through your folds.  Your knees are kicked apart, spread obscenely around him.  His favourite position, you think, though he’d claim otherwise. 

“Jungkook!”  You snarl, growing impatient with how he teases you, forearm caged right beneath your breasts and the other resting against the mattress. 

For all his bitching and complaining, he’s being a real big asshole now.

“What - no more Bunny?”  The words roll hotly into your ear, followed by the sharp edge of enamel as he nips at the delicate cartilage and tongues right below your lobe at the spot that makes you keen.  He’s mocking you, dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit over and over but never giving you more - never taking you in the way he’d begged to do.

“If you don’t smarten up right now—”  It’s a hiss that leaves no room for argument.  “—get the hell off me.”

Maybe it’s sixteen years of friendship or maybe it’s how hot you sound when you’re pissed off.  Either way, it’s the last straw and he’s burying himself to the hilt, filling you up so well that you can’t help the way you moan, lewd like a well-paid pornstar.  

“Better?”  He huffs, somehow, in between his hard unrelenting thrusts that bounce you across his thousand thread count sheets.  

His lips find a spot right between your neck and shoulder and he mouths greedily over it, saliva soothing the roses that bloom beneath his teeth.  He does this every time - marking you in ways you can’t stop, placing a glaring neon sign that reads JEON JUNGKOOK . 

“Stop talking.”  Not that you don’t love his voice - not that you don’t love him, deep down - but because you can’t focus.  You’re far too tightly strung from your earlier activities and your insides feel like they’re melting, molten lava seeping through your system each time he presses back into you.

You can feel every ridge and vein, anchored with nowhere to go by his weight.  It’s absurd how he stretches and fills you - like you can feel him all the way in your throat.  It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“Don’t get mouthy,”  he returns, playful as ever.  A small part of you wonders how he looks - if he’s got that stupid grin on his face - but you know you can’t turn.  He’s calling all the shoots now, just like he loves to do.  “C’mere, angel.”  You’re up and back in the next instant;  he’s holding you flush against his chest with ease, hips hardly missing a beat as he pulls you upright.  

Damn him and his strength.

The sound you make when his cock drags against that particular spot inside you is almost laughable.  “Kook .”  His name is hardly that - more of a garbled plea.  You briefly wonder if you look as stupid as you suddenly sound.  

Satisfaction practically rolls off him in waves, suffocating you just as his right hand does, the left darting to focus on your clit.  “That’s right.”  He’s saccharine sweet, nipping and nibbling at your pulse as he feels it jump beneath his tongue.

You’ve done this enough times that he knows you’re close and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t, too.

“Come on, baby.  Let go - I know you want to.”  You can’t stop yourself when he’s whispering so nicely, coaxing you into a state of euphoria with his hand and his cock and his goddamn good-for-nothing mouth.  You’re mewling nonsense, meeting his every movement like your life depends on it.  You’re so close, tittering on the edge of an impossibly dark abyss;  you think you might cry.  

Then all at once, with a particularly rough snap of his hips and just a bit more pressure on your clit, white hot heat sears through you.  It starts in your core and pulls through your limbs, dissolving your bones into nothingness as you reach your long-awaited high.  

Tears are spilling over before you can register it, wetness heavy in your throat and the line of your lashes. 

“That’s right.  Cream all over this cock, baby.  Good girl.”  Jungkook never ceases his quiet words of encouragement or how he rocks against you, your name rolling off his tongue like a balm to soothe the burns he’s left behind.  

Even while he’s chasing his own release, he never forgets about you, humming reassurances into your curtain of dark hair.

You try to return the favour - it’s an almost impossible feat - when his hips stutter and he loses his rhythm.  Fisted into the sheets, your hand finds his, thin fingers coiling around knuckles that strain white beneath permanent ink.  

“Kook.  Kook.  Please cum for me.”  

You’re begging him in a way he can’t resist and he spills inside of you then, filling you so well you can feel it slick down your thighs as he rides out his high.  

When he’s spent and satisfied, he breaks away and tosses himself at your side, rolling onto his back.  He sounds like he’s run a marathon when he speaks, out of breath and giddy.  “God - you’re so good for me.”  He says it almost like he means it as more than it is - more than a casual fuck on a Friday night.

You’re up before he has a chance to pull you to him, picking up your discarded clothes as you move towards his bathroom.    

“You’re leaving?”  Why he sounds so surprised, you’re not sure but you’re grateful for the closed door and the inability to see his face.  You can only imagine how it looks, framed by his just-fucked mess of hair and bathed in the afternoon light.  

You emerge from the bathroom fully clothed, strands of your own swept into a haphazard braid that hides the mosaic he’d painted with his mouth.  You’re careful not to meet his stare as you retrieve your bag from his immaculately kept desk, sliding it over your shoulder.  “I have a report I need to submit tonight.”

“You can do it here.”  He’s not wrong - you’d done most of your university coursework in his living room. 

But that was then and this is now and it’s hard enough sleeping with your best friend without feelings getting in the way so you shake your head and laugh, nonchalant as you can manage.  “You have coffee with that girl from Wednesday at 8 AM and I’m definitely not in the mood for an early morning tomorrow.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head - the proverbial gun he’s about to use to riddle your reasoning with holes - and raise a hand to silence him before he can begin.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”  Then you’re gone, half your heart in your chest and the other in the hands of your stupid, oblivious best friend.

[hexensalbei]

play with fire

find on ao3

This is going to be a fun ride.

The silence in the car is scary because itʼs uncomfortable and that has never been a problem before. Buck shoots a quick glance at his friend. Eddieʼs eyes are fixated on the road, his jaw so clenched, Buck swears, he can hear his teeth gritting. His hands are on the steering wheel but his grip is so tight, his knuckles are white. Yeah, heʼs definitely mad.

The problem is that Buck doesnʼt know why Eddie is so furious.

Fine.

Maybe he knows. But that doesnʼt mean he understands. Heʼs never seen Eddie that angry. He remembers vividly when Eddie snapped at him in the grocery store right after the lawsuit—but itʼs just a pale comparison to his rage now. It doesnʼt make sense—because Buck didnʼt do anything stupid like another lawsuit—he just... He just did his job.

He risked his life to save someone elseʼs but he does it almost on a daily basis; Eddie does the exact same thing and yet, Buck has never snapped at him. So why is it different now?

Because you almost died today says an annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his sister.

Because you almost died in Eddieʼs fucking arms.

Buck tries to ignore it; he has to ignore it because if he doesnʼt, heʼll drown in guilt and shame. And probably wake up some long forgotten demons.

He canʼt re-live it again and again.

When they stop, he realises, theyʼre in front of Eddieʼs house and heʼs genuinely surprised his friend brought him here.

“This isnʼt my apartment.” He blurts out. He knows itʼs probably the dumbest thing he couldʼve said but he doesnʼt understand why Eddie took him to his home if heʼs pissed off at him. Itʼd be definitely easier to cool off if the source of his anger wasnʼt there, right? 

“Like hell Iʼm letting you stay alone after the shit you did.”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice that makes Buck squirm. He sounds angry, sure, but also hurt, broken. Resigned. He sounds exactly like when Shannon died.

Buck knows that because he was there. He remembers how mad Eddie was at his wife for leaving him and Christopher again, this time for good.

Eventually, Eddie gets out of the car and goes to the house. Buck quietly follows his best friendʼs footsteps and he flinches when Eddie drops off his bag on the floor.

“You can take a shower if you want, Iʼll make up the bed.”

He knows Buck too well; he knows that Buck hates the specific smell of the hospital and always tries to get rid of it as soon as possible. Buckʼs really grateful for that also because he can simply postpone their argument, just for a little bit. Maybe shower will help him cool off because heʼs irritated too but he doesnʼt truly want to fight with Eddie. He goes to the bathroom, takes off his clothes and steps under the shower. He lets the cold water run down his body and he really tries to calm himself; there was enough drama today and yeah, he almost died so he deserves to have a moment of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks. Heʼs getting more and more cold and he knows he should get out before Eddie will storm inside and drag him out of the shower. Buck wouldnʼt be even surprised if his friend did something like this.

Then, with a long sigh, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He quickly rinses himself with a towel and slips into his most comfortable clothes. Whatʼs a little funny and maybe even ironic, his favorite grey, worn out t-shirt is actually Eddieʼs and it even smells like him.

Crap.

He really needs to finally leave the bathroom and face his friend but heʼs trying to delay the inevitable by thoroughly brushing his teeth. And then, he doesnʼt find anything else he can do so he goes back to the living room. Heʼs quite surprised that he doesnʼt see the pillows or blanket on the couch because he thought heʼs gonna sleep there and heʼs even more surprised he doesnʼt see Eddie there. He finds him in the kitchen instead, leaning against the counter and nursing his favourite beer. Thereʼs a glimpse of hope in Buckʼs chest that maybe Eddie cooled off a little, that maybe he realised he has exaggerated and his anger isnʼt completely justified. Heʼs wrong, though. Eddie is not even slightly less annoyed and it takes Buck one look at his best friend to realise that.

He sighs again because Eddieʼs anger starts to get on his nerves. He moves closer until he stands against Eddie and looks him in the eye.

“Do what you have to do, letʼs get this over with.” He says with a tiredness in his voice. The only thing he wants right now is sleep, he wants to fall asleep and forget about the whole world for a couple of hours. “If you want to yell at me then be my guest and do it. I donʼt even care.”

“Oh, so now youʼre annoyed at me? Really?” Eddie asks wryly and sets aside the bottle with a little too much force, it almost smashes. Neither of them care anyway. Theyʼre now standing against each other, so close they almost hear each otherʼs heartbeat and they fix each other with a glare. 

“Yeah, I am. You act like Iʼve done something wrong, like I wasnʼt supposed to do this and—” 

Heʼs cut off by Eddie who lets out a humourless laugh and answers in a higher voice than usual. 

“God, do you even listen to yourself? You went to that building all by yourself, you disobeyed Bobbyʼs specific orders to not go there because youʼre you and youʼre above all the orders, right? It doesnʼt matter if Bobby did it because he didnʼt want to risk one of us dying there. But you just couldnʼt listen.”

“Funny thatʼs coming out from the man who cut his rope and almost died in the well.” Buck interjects viciously because heʼs truly angered by now.

Something flashes in Eddieʼs eyes but Buck canʼt name it. He doesnʼt even have the time to think about it because his best friend doesnʼt back out.

“Itʼs not relevant now, weʼre talking about today and your stupid, reckless behaviour. What were you thinking? Or-Or maybe donʼt. You probably werenʼt thinking at all. Obviously. And it almost cost you a life! Your life! How can you be so reckless?!” Eddie shouts and the pain in his voice is very noticeable but Buck pretends to ignore it.

“Iʼm a firefighter. Itʼs kinda in a job description, donʼt you think? Sometimes I have to be a little reckless. Besides, I did save a life and I didnʼt die either, right? Otherwise I wouldnʼt be standing there and listen to you being all pissed.” Buck shrugs like itʼs nothing, like he really doesnʼt care about his life. Itʼs probably another thing he shouldnʼt have said because Eddie straightens up and now, thereʼs almost no space between. For the second Buck thinks Eddie will lash out and just hit him. He kinda wishes he did. But Eddie only sighs heavily and rakes through his hair with frustration. 

“God, youʼre driving me crazy, Buckley. Youʼre so dumb and stubborn and you donʼt even stop for a second to think about the consequences of your actions. You donʼt even care what would happen if you actually died, do you?”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice, something hard to catch and name that stops Buck from responding immediately. His words are ringing in his ears because they are annoyingly true. He didnʼt think about the consequences of his eventual death. He literally just stormed inside the building to find a man despite Bobbyʼs direct order to not go there because it was already too dangerous. He did it anyway, he managed to save a life but he didnʼt manage to get out in time and the whole building just collapsed. He doesnʼt remember much but he certainly remembers being held out by Eddie and his donʼt you dare die here, you dumbass. 

It mustʼve been scary, he admits, and he thinks he understands how Eddie mustʼve felt because he also saw his best friend almost dying. But the anger? He still doesnʼt get it.

“Iʼve had a few close calls during the years. Why is it so different now?” He finally asks.

“Because Iʼm in love with you, you asshole!” Eddie cries out. “And you just keep dying on me and I canʼt take it anymore!”

Buckʼs brain short-circuits. He mustʼve died after all, right? There is no real possibility Eddie just told heʼs in love with him. Thereʼs no possibility he may actually reciprocate his feelings. Thereʼs no way itʼs not just his hallucination or some kind of weird dream in his afterlife. But he desperately wants to be the truth, desperately needs validation for his thoughts. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he grabs Eddie by the collar of his Henley and crashes their lips together. His friend is definitely surprised, even shocked and for a moment, he does nothing. Buck already starts to panic because he thinks it’s real and he might’ve misheard everything or even projected it and just destroyed their friendship. But then, Eddie suddenly changes position and pushes Buck until he leans against the counter. And when he kisses him, all thoughts and doubts are completely gone from Buckʼs mind. The only things that matter are Eddieʼs lips on his, Eddieʼs hands on his body, Eddie utterly focused on him and that desperate need to fulfil their desire. Buck mightʼve kissed a lot of people in his life; he has had both awkward and amazing kisses but they cannot compete to make out with his best friend. It feels entirely different, maybe because Eddie loves him back. They break apart only for a couple of seconds to take a breath; Buck sits on the counter and brings Eddie closer by the belt. He canʼt take his eyes off him; Eddie looks wonderful with already swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He probably looks no better but he doesnʼt even care.

“I know youʼve probably already noticed but I love you too, asshole.” He says in a teasing voice, inches away from Eddieʼs lips.

“Well, I mightʼve suspected it when you kissed me but itʼs nice to actually hear it. But donʼt even think that you say you love me, bat your eyelashes and kiss me this way and I wonʼt be angry at you.” Eddie warns half-seriously.

“I can try.” Buck just smirks and kisses him again. This time, he also quickly unbuckles the belt Eddieʼs wearing and starts to lift his shirt. His friend doesnʼt even protest, he lets him do whatever he wants and thatʼs why his Henley ends up somewhere on the floor. Then, the blonde moves from his lips to his neck and slowly makes his way down, planting kisses on his chest. Itʼs crazy how quickly their anger turned into lust. Now, the tension between them is much better, more exciting, easy to resolve. 

Eddie lets out a loud moan when Buck—this sneaky bastard—grabs his ass and squeezes it.

“Youʼre a menace.” He hisses.

“Oh, you should wait with the sweet talk after Iʼm done with you, Diaz.” Buck grins and he doesnʼt stop with the teasing. He unzips Eddieʼs jeans painfully slowly and Eddie almost whines to hurry up. The younger man notices it and winks at him before he adds. “Although Iʼm not sure if youʼll be able to talk at all.” 

“So maybe quit talking, Evan, and show me your skills?” 

“As you wish, Edmundo.”

[easily-infatuated23]

Over Protective

Request: Could do image were she dating Dustin in secret and her sibling is Steve Harrington. She sneaks out to see Dustin and then she come back to see Steve sitting on her bed then Steve spots a few hickeys on her neck and he asks her about and she denies it. Then Steve calls robin because he freaking out. He invite her over and Dustin for like a dinner then he see them on Dustin’s neck. Then start being like an over protective brother and talking to them about it. ~anonymous 

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon! it’s my first request so i hope you enjoy! i also aged up Dustin to be 16 bc i felt weird writing this with him being like 13. enjoy!

pairing: Dustin Henderson x Harrington!Reader x Steve Harrington

word count: 1.9k

summary: Steve is overly protective of his little sister and when he sees a hickey on her, he’s furious

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N hated sneaking around. When she and Dustin started dating, Dustin had suggested they keep it a secret. It’s not that he was embarrassed or wanted to hide it but they didn’t want their friends to tease them (especially Max and Lucas), but also because of Y/N’s brother. Being Steve Harrington’s younger sister meant that he was super over protective, especially when it came to dating. Steve knew what guys could be like so he made sure that he kept boys away from her. “I’m sixteen now Stevie” she began. “I am old enough to start dating. Besides, you didn’t act like this when Mike and Eleven got together” she finished, crossing her arms angrily. “Thats different!” Steve replied. “You are my baby sister and I don’t want anybody to…corrupt you!” Y/N laughed. “Corrupt me?! You are worse than dad!” “No boys until you’re thirty, and thats final!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door after her. No matter how annoyed she was, even an argument with her brother was not going to ruin this day for her. It was her and Dustin’s two month anniversary. Although it wasn’t a super long time to be with someone, it was still a big deal for her because it was her first relationship.

“Hey I procrastinated doing my English essay for Mr. Hartman so I’m gonna be in my room trying to do it so don’t bother me” Y/N called down the stairs to her brother. “Yup got it” Steve replied, not looking up from the TV. Brilliant. With Steve distracted and her alibi set, she could sneak out to go meet Dustin. She ran back up to her room and changed into her favorite pair of jeans, t-shirt and a red sweater, and sneakers. She carefully opened her window and climbed out, standing on the sloped roof beneath her. She propped the window open with her Science textbook and climbed down. She then hopped on her bike and rode to Dustin’s house. When she was half way there she realized she had forgotten to lock her door. “No matter,” she thought. “Steve is so engrossed in his TV show he won’t check on me for at least four hours”.

Once she arrived, she hopped of her bike and climbed up to Dustin’s window. She knocked on it lightly. Moments later, the curly haired boy appeared at the window, smiling. He opened the window for her and helped her climb in. Dustin turned on the radio and the two began laughing and talking, simply enjoying each other’s company. After a while, the two began to get a bit hot and heavy and started making out. They hadn’t gone much further than this and Dustin respected her decision to wait. Besides, he was enjoying being with a girl as beautiful, smart, and funny as Y/N Harrington. “You are incredible, you know that?” he said to her as they pulled away. She smiled and shook her head. “How did I get so lucky?” The two smiled at each other for another few moments before Dustin’s face dropped. “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m sorry” he said, panic filling his voice. “What? What is is?” Y/N said, sitting up. “I left a pretty obvious mark on your neck. I swear I didn’t mean to” he said. She stood up and went over to a mirror on the other side of his room. Sure enough, a purple mark was appearing on her neck. She pulled her shirt down and counted two more, each more purple than the last. “Shit” she said. “I can hide the ones on my chest but this guy,” she said pointing to the love bite her neck, “no way”.

She turned to face the boy and started to laugh a bit. “Why are you laughing?! If Steve sees it he’ll kill you! Oh my god what if he finds out it was me?” he said, even more panicked than before. “He probably will babe, but, you aren’t exactly mark free either”. He went pale and joined her at the mirror, examining his neck. “I’ll just wear a turtle neck tomorrow or cover it with makeup. It’ll be fine” She looked at her watch. 8 o’clock. Damn. “Hey I gotta get home. I only give Steve like a four hour window of focus on that TV before he comes to check on me. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow” Dustin said, giving her a hug and kissing her sweetly. Little did Y/N know, Steves focus had worn off much sooner than she had anticipated.

At 7:30, Steve got bored of whatever dumb program had started, and decided to go check on his sister. She usually talked to herself when she did homework and it had been unusually quiet in her room. He walked up the stairs and knocked on her door. There was no reply. He knocked again. “Hey Y/N, you alright in there?”. He was puzzled. He opened her door and was shocked to find her room empty. “Are you trying to play a prank on me? Are you gonna jump out of the closet or something?” Still no response. Then he spotted it. The textbook in the window. A classic Harrington move. Steve couldn’t believe it. His little sister had really snuck out and he hadn’t noticed! He decided he would sit on her bed and wait for her to sneak back in. He waited about thirty minutes before he heard the breathless girl climbing up the side of the house.

When she reached the window and opened it, her heart dropped into her stomach. “What do you think you are doing?” Steve said, pulling his little sister back into her room. “What are you doing in my room?” she retorted. “My question first” he said. Thinking on her toes, Y/N came up with a lie to explain her disappearance. “I wanted to hang out with Max and Elle without you breathing down my neck okay!” she said. She suddenly remembered that her hickey was visible above her sweater and covered her neck with her hand as casually as possible. “Hey, hey what are you hiding?” He moved her hand and felt his face go red. “What is that?!” he boomed. She pushed him away, trying to come up with another lie. “Get off! It’s just a curling iron burn! The girls were curling their hair and when I went to try I burned myself!” That made sense right? Steve squinted at her suspiciously. He knew a hickey when he saw one. “I am gonna find out who did this and I’m gonna kill them” Steve said. “I told you it’s a burn! Now get out of my room!” She yelled, pushing her older brother out of the door. “Just tell me his name!” Steve shouted. She slammed the door in his face. Steve was fuming. They had the boyfriends argument before but this was a new level. Steve did the only thing he could think of. He called his best friend Robin.

“Hey Popeye” Robin said. “Whats going-” “No time Robin, we have an issue” Steve interrupted. “What is it Harrington?” she said. “I caught Y/N sneaking back into her room through a window and she had a hickey! What am I going to do?! I need your help to figure out who the hell did this to my baby sister!” There was a moment of silence and then laughter from Robin. “First of all, relax. It’s just a hickey. You were probably like ten when you had your first one so get some perspective” “I was twelve” he said. “Don’t interrupt me” she continued. “Secondly, why do you care? She’s sixteen now. You have to loosen up.” Steve sighed. “I guess you’re right”. “Also I know who she’s dating”. “What?!” Steve shouted. “Tell me now!” “Fine fine don’t get your panties in a twist” Robin said. “But you have to promise not to do anything drastic.” “Fine fine I promise just tell me”. He said. “Henderson” she said. Steve was silent. Henderson?! Of all people she chose Henderson! I guess it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, after all, he liked Dustin. “What are you gonna do Steve? I can hear your brain exploding” she said. She was met with more silence. “Just invite him over and talk to him or something. Just don’t make it weird.” “Right yeah thanks Robin. I’ll see you tomorrow” he said, hanging up the phone. Thats what he would do. He would invite Dustin over tomorrow and interrogate him.

The next day he called the Henderson house. “Hey Dustin it’s Steve” “Oh uh hey Steve, what’s up?” Dustin’s voice was squeaky. Got him. “I need your help with something and I need you to come over.” “Oh yeah uh sure I’ll see you in a few hours and-” “No,” Steve interrupted. “I need your help now, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” “Okay”. Dustin’s voice was quiet and his nervousness could be felt through the phone. When Dustin finally got to the house, Steve met him at the door. “Henderson, I’m so glad you could come over” Steve said coldly. Dustin didn’t speak as he entered the house. Steve glared at him. “So what did you need my help with?” Dustin asked cautiously. “I need help understanding what the hell you are doing with my sister.” Steve said. His arms were crossed and he stood blocking the door, blocking any hope of escape for Dustin. “Hey Stevie who’s at the door?” Y/N asked, having heard the knock from her room. “Oh hey Dustin what’s up?” she said casually. “Oh no no you aren’t fooling me” Steve said. “I wanna know what’s going on here” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Did you call Robin last night? Damn I knew I shouldn’t have told her.” She finished walking down the stairs and stepped beside Dustin, clasping his hand in hers. “No no no, none of that” Steve said, trying to break them apart. “Steve relax seriously, you are way too worked up about this” Y/N said. Steve sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt” he said. She let go of Dustin’s hand and put her hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know that but this whole over protective brother act is suffocating”. Steve nodded. “If it helps, I have no intention of breaking up with Y/N and honestly, the past two months have been some of the happiest months of my life” Dustin added. Steve looked up at him suddenly. “TWO MONTHS??” he yelled. He lunged at Dustin, Y/N stepping between them before they collided.“Woah Stevie, chill take a deep breath”. She pushed him back.

“Okay okay I can deal with this, this is fine” Steve muttered under his breath. “But, we need to make some ground rules. No closed doors and no sneaking anybody in anywhere. You come in through the front door and make your presence known!” Steve said, pointing towards the door. The two teens nodded. “Okay…” Steve ran his hand through his hair. “I think I can get behind this but I’m gonna need some time to process.” He lowered himself down onto the couch. Y/N and Dustin looked at each other with smirking expressions. “Okay Steve…you just take your time. We’ll just be upstairs.” Y/N said, slowly leading Dustin upstairs. “Yeah…okay…but I want that door open!” He yelled after them. The two teens laughed and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Steve shook his head. “Crazy kids” he said, chuckling a bit as he realized he was glad that if his sister had to date anyone, it would be Dustin Henderson.

[thatringboy]

Xiaoven idol au? 👀 (no angst please ahah)

okay it may seem a tiny bit angsty at the beginning but i prommy it turns into kisses and cuteness as it goes on

We're Doing It Together

Warnings: Xiao being dumb as rocks and oblivious as hell to everything

Characters: Xiao, Venti

Ships: Xiaoven

Word Count: 1,774

Summary: Idol!Xiao finds out that his close friend Venti wants to join a new troupe after the two of them being solo for a while

The cold night air bit at the young man’s nose as he pulled his forest green hood down over his eyes. He could see his breath float away in the air as he sighed and checked his watch.

He’s late.

The sound of sneakers smacking the pavement got louder in his ears until someone ran up to him out of breath. “Xiao! I’m so sorry! Practice ran long and then Kaeya started an argument with Lisa and then--”

Xiao put a hand to silence him and returned his gaze to the frozen river under the bridge. “It’s fine. Must be nice to have a group like that.”

The new arrival laughed lightly and nudged him. “You make it sound like I’m on stage preforming with them!”

“It’s not like Jean won’t let you.”

He put his hands behind his head, his teal braids blowing gently in the wind. “Eh, my time has come and gone for this business.”

Xiao glared at him. “You make us sound old!”

It was true, the two young men no longer preformed with their original groups. Xiao’s group “Yaksha 5” had disbanded as the other four members all left the idol business and his new band “Adepti” only met once a month to write songs. No more live performances. The other young man, Venti, used to preform under the stagename “Barbatos” with the famous idol group “Celestia”, but he and the other remaining senior member - a tall man who went by the stagename “Morax” - had left a while ago. Now, Morax went by Zhongli and occasionally wrote songs with Adepti while Venti became a choreographer with a popular rookie troupe named “Favonius”.

The two stood there in silence watching the lights of streetlamps dance off of falling snowflakes before them. Venti tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and sighed. “I got an offer from a new group of guys who want me on stage with them. They say they want me on soprano.”

Xiao gave him a sideways look. “And? I thought you swore off preforming or something when you left Celestia.”

Venti balled his hands into fists inside his pocket and didn’t meet his eyes. “I think… I met the center of this group; he’s a really nice guy. They’ve got a manager already and apparently have done some music with Jean. She’s the one who got me in contact with them.”

“So you’re gonna join them?” His voice sounded distant, lonely. There weren’t many solo performers in the idol world. Xiao and Venti had been riding their residual fame from their past groups for years and hadn’t really signed contracts with a single troupe from how sourly they left their past groups. Xiao thought they were special in that way… but Venti was the one still getting new offers for shows while Xiao had to almost beg to be an opening.

Venti looked him in the eyes. “I haven’t agreed to yet.”

“Really?” Xiao scoffed. “And here I thought you would be all over the chance to start a new group.”

The shorter man squinted his eyes. “I told them I’m only joining up if my conditions are met!”

Xiao’s eyebrows shot up. “You have standards?”

“Of course! And very high ones at that!” Venti pouted. “How else do you think I put up with you?”

Xiao felt warm in the face at that remark, he only prayed that the darkness of the night hid this from Venti.

Suddenly, Venti’s volume dropped to a whisper and he began to fidget with his fingers. “My conditions were that you had to join the group as well. They want to call the group ‘4NEMO’ and they were still searching for a fourth guy so I figured…”

He trailed off as he caught Xiao staring at him with a bewildered expression. Venti began to panic. Did he just hurt Xiao’s pride? He knew that the taller man didn’t like to accept help from others, but for some reason he thought this time would be different.

Venti was yanked from his thoughts as Xiao closed the distance between them and engulfed him in a hug. “My my, what a sudden show of affection!”

Xiao had did it to keep Venti from seeing the red on his cheek. Truth be told, he was deeply touched by Venti turning down a chance to play more shows if he couldn’t be by his side, but he was too inexperienced at returning kindness. A hug seemed to suffice, right?

“Thank you, Venti, that means the world to me.”

“Does it really?” The words spilled from his mouth before he even finished thinking them. He didn’t want Xiao to agree to something as serious as starting a new idol group with strangers just to appease him.

Xiao pulled away just to lean down and press the softest of kisses to Venti’s lips. The shorter of the two thought his heart was going to explode. Sure, the two had danced around each other for as long as they knew each other and Venti would have been a fool to not notice Xiao’s attractiveness during that time. But they had never been more than friends-who-flirt-with-each-other.

The taller pulled away with a red face as he searched Venti’s eyes. “Does that convince you?”

Venti nodded briskly, his brain not exactly processing what had just happened. It seemed Xiao’s brain was only just then catching up to his actions because he suddenly stepped back and covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes widening to a horrified expression.

“I didn’t--I mean--I--Sorry!” He blurted out from behind his hands.

Venti touched his own lips and blinked a few times before thinking of what to say. “So you really want to be in a group with me, huh?”

Xiao pulled his hands down and while his face was contorted into a snarl, his cheeks still burned red. “And? So what?! Don’t let it go to your head, I just need the money!”

The shorter man giggled and grabbed Xiao’s hand, lacing their fingers together without any resistance. “Sure, whatever you say~”

Despite his harsh tone, Xiao pressed the side of his body next to Venti’s to b closer to him. “So, who are the guys in this group?”

Venti hummed. “Well, the center is this blonde guy named Aether who’s new in town. I heard he’s done some work for Favonius in the past and that he’s friends with the girls in Qixing. The other guy is named Kazuha. He ran with Beidou’s crew for a bit to get away from the whole Tenryou Doxxing drama and now he’s teaming up with Aether to form 4NEMO. I think the manager is Sucrose. You know, Albedo’s manager? She’s picking up the job for this group too.”

“Hmm, impressive. Sounds like a good group. I think I’ll like it.” Xiao looked out to the distance.

Venti beamed. “Wait, you mean it?”

Xiao felt himself turning red again. “Ah, yeah, sure. I know Aether, we did so collab work once, I trust him.”

Venti reached up and poked his cheek. “And because you’ll be dancing with me?”

Xiao grabbed his hand and leaned down again. “I wouldn’t mind getting back into the idol drama if you were by my side. Maybe I just want you.”

The shorter man went red in the face and tried to laugh that last statement off. “Wow, that’s some confession, huh? It’s a good thing I feel the same way, otherwise I’d tease you to death over this.”

Xiao let go and his face dropped into a shocked expression. “You’re serious? You feel the same?”

Venti laughed out loud, hugging his sides. “Yes, dummy! Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered with all of this! I thought all of that was clear when you kissed me! Gods you are slow!”

Xiao frowned and crossed him arms. “I was just… you’re very hard to read!”

Venti stopped laughing and grabbed the sides of Xiao’s hood, pulling him down to eye level. “And you are like an open book. It’s funny to watch you, Xiao. You can be very suave and smooth with your words, but other times you get all flustered and you close up. It’s cute!”

“I’m not cute.” He didn’t pull away, just adverted his eyes.

Venti made a disagreeing noise and closed the distance between them. This time the kiss was softer, smoother and had much more passion behind it. Venti made a happy noise when he felt Xiao wrap his arms around his back and moved to place his own arms around Xiao’s neck.

Xiao found himself sinking more and more into Venti’s embrace. The taste of cheap wine on his breath, the way his mouth molded to hold him and the way his hands gently caressed the back of his head was all too much for him to handle. His anxieties melted away as he pulled Venti’s smaller frame flush against his own. For just how long had he been waiting to do this? Ever since they met, Venti had always been flirty and open about his emotions, but Xiao had quickly deduced that it was all a mask he put on to keep himself from being hurt by those around him. Xiao was similar in that sense, always acting aloof and angry to keep people from getting too close to him. But when he was with Venti… none of that mattered. When he was with Venti, he didn’t care how badly things ended with Yaksha 5, he didn’t notice the way his ratings dropped, he didn’t pay attention to the social media slandering.

Venti was like some sort of wind spirit: always floating from one place to the other without a concern. Xiao wanted to learn more, to be more like him. And to him, joining this new 4NEMO group was the fastest way to do that.

When they pulled away, Venti did not fail to notice the glimmer of love in Xiao’s gaze. He brought his hands down to Xiao’s waist and hugged him close with a giggle. “You are cute.”

“No I’m not.” Xiao hugged him back with a pout.”

“Yes you are~”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes-s-s-s you are Gao-Xiao!” Venti bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Xiao let go and tried to push him away. “I am going to throw you over the side of this bridge if you call me cute one more time.”

Venti let him go with a smile, a hand fishing into his pocket for his phone. “Then I’ll call Aether and tell him you’re in?”

Xiao’s face went back to the loving smile from before. “Sure thing.”

[lil-lycanthropy]

How to write an essay (especially when you struggle with writing essays)

[Image Description: A graphic titled “BASIC ESSAY STRUCTURE”. There are 3 sections. The first section is regarding the introduction, labelled “Agonize for an hour”. The second section is regarding the body, labelled “oh hell yes i can do this no problem i got stuff to say i’m on a roll”. The third section is regarding the conclusion, labelled “I am going to walk into the sea”. /End Image Description]

I saw this post about essay writing with this as the structure and I just. Screamed a bit. The outline above (imo) makes a very boring essay that is UNNECESSARILY DIFFICULT to write. I was gonna just add onto the post, but I thought I’d make my own because I have a LOT to say.

So, to start off, I have spent far too long making this handy-dandy graphic with an essay structure that I find to be a lot more helpful.

[Image Description: A graphic titled “ESSAY OUTLINE”. There are 7 sections. They include the outline for the Introduction, Body, and Conclusion, along with tips for all three, and then a section for General Tips. /End Image Description]

There’s some pretty lengthy explanations under the cut, and I spent way too long on this. However, I’m passionate about writing and hate seeing how much people struggle to write simply because they haven’t been given the right tools.

Without further ado, here we go!

Introduction (1 paragraph)

Opening Statement: This is your intro/hook. With an effective opening sentence, you want to introduce the main topic of the paper, and make it interesting for the reader to draw them in. The introductory sentence should be somewhat objective; your thesis will be your arguing point, but we need to know the general topic without the bias. As for the hook part—your prof/TA/teacher/whoever is grading your paper has read the same paper 600 times. Your paper probably won’t be entirely unique, BUT you can still make it stand out. This is where the “hook” comes in. An easy way to do this is to simply start with a verb. Reading papers that all start with “the” or “a” can get really repetitive and boring, so an action word can be a good way to grab the reader’s attention. You don’t want your opening statement to be too long; a sentence or two should be your goal.

Allude to Thesis: Right after the opening statement, use a sentence to briefly allude to your thesis (the stance you’ll be taking on the topic). This way, you can state your argument points without having to worry about wording your thesis correctly right away, or risk your thesis getting lost within the introduction. This is kinda a segue to your points rather than its own official “section”, so keep it brief. 

Outline Supporting Points: These are the points that help support your argument. Avoid using a list form for this by using things like semi-colons or commas; each supporting point should have its own sentence. Saying that, definitely use transition words to help the sentences flow together so it doesn’t just seem like a laundry list. Don’t limit yourself to three points unless that’s explicitly part of the assignment. At least two is good if you can expand on them enough to do the paper, but don’t be afraid to use four or five if you’re still able to stay within the limits and expand on them enough to be individual points. However, sometimes too many points can make it hard to expand, so see if you can group some together if you have too many. 

Thesis: Your thesis should be a statement, subjective, demonstrable, and specific. It therefore should not be a question, objective, hypothetical, or vague. This is because your thesis is a definitive stance on a specific issue or topic that you can prove with evidence. As for placement, I always put my thesis at the very end of the introduction. I would say it’s up to personal preference whether to put it at the beginning or the end, but please never put it in the middle. When it’s in the middle, it’s very likely that it won’t stand out as a thesis, and then you’d have to come up with both an opening and closing statement, which is hard. I like putting it at the end because I find that if I do it at the beginning, it can be REALLY hard to balance having a clear thesis while also introducing your paper and making it interesting. Plus, if it’s at the end of your first paragraph, it still stands out, you don’t have to do a concluding statement, you don’t have to balance any other aspect of writing (like an intro or hook) with it, AND it creates the perfect transition to your supporting points. Limit your thesis statement to one or two sentences—you want it to stand out to the reader as the thesis, and you don’t want to muddle the message by being too detailed. You’ll have the rest of the paper to expand.

Body (2-10+ paragraphs)

Introduce Evidence: For each piece of supporting evidence (your main points), make sure you introduce them clearly before actually explaining everything about them. Don’t be afraid to word it in an interesting way (although remember, you still want your message to be clear!). I also want to give you an incredibly important tip: the amount of supporting points you have DOES NOT have to correspond with the amount of body paragraphs you have. They drill the five-paragraph essay outline into you for years, and it’s BORING—for you and whoever’s grading your paper. It’s also bad writing, because then you get unnaturally long paragraphs that take up a page and a half. So, unless your assignment rubric says otherwise, don’t be afraid to get creative with the paragraph amount. Always start a new paragraph when introducing a new main point, but definitely consider splitting the main point into two or three paragraphs if needed. Disclaimer: sometimes if you have to split a point into multiple paragraphs, that means you might want to consider splitting the main point into multiple main points. On the other hand, sometimes combining two main points into one can help make a paragraph more substantial.

Expand: For each point, expand. Explain any extra details. Relate the explanations back to your main point so you can stay on target and not go on tangents that take up half the page. 

Connect to Thesis: After you expand each point, as a concluding statement, relate the main point back to the thesis (the whole point of the paper!). Anyone can list evidence—show that you understand why this evidence is connected and how it proves your stance. If you can’t connect the point to your thesis, it’s probably not relevant or you need to do more research. By making the connection between the evidence and your thesis, 1. This is how you get bonus marks, and 2. It makes for an excellent concluding statement/transition to the next main point.

Repeat: For each main point, follow the structure of introduce-expand-connect.

Conclusion (1 paragraph)

Restate Thesis/Main Points: Rather than coming up with another introductory statement, restate your thesis and the main points that helped to prove your thesis. Please try to reword it so it’s not repetitive, and it’s best to keep the restating brief. You’ve already established all of this in your paper, so you don’t need too much detail. A sentence or two is fine. Another tip is to avoid basic concluding words. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but definitely avoid the ones that involve the word “conclude” or its derivatives (e.g. “in conclusion”; to conclude”, etc.). Keep this part to one or two sentences to avoid the dreaded repetition.

Explain Relevance/Make Connections: Here is something I NEVER see in the common essay templates, and honestly, I feel like it’s one of the most important things with essay writing. It’s the difference between just another essay in a pile of 200, and one that stands out as exemplary. SO. We know your thesis. We know your evidence. You’ve even briefly restated it in case we forgot. Now, WHY is your thesis (and by extension, the paper you just spent a few hours on) actually important? Why is it relevant? Who cares? You don’t want to give too much “new” information, but you really should be able to find some connection as to why your paper matters. Because if you don’t see the point in it, how are you gonna convince the reader that your paper is worth reading? Essays are about arguments, yes, and convincing people that You’re Correct and You Know Things, but you need to be able to connect with other things to see the true relevance. Make connections, folks!

Concluding Statement: Truly the bane of anyone’s existence. A good tip is to look at it as your Mic Drop moment—your time to wrap it up, drop the mic, and walk offstage. Tie your thesis, evidence, and connections together into a sentence or two with a little pizzazz and sense of finality, leaving no room to argue. 

General Tips

Know your audience: This can sometimes help with finding the balance between over- and under-explaining things. With essays, the person grading (the audience) is probably a bit above your current level, unless it’s being marked by another student or something. So write at your level—or the average level of your class/group. For example, if you’re in a second-year university biology class, you probably don’t need to explain what photosynthesis means. But if your essay is on a little known technique to measure chlorophyll levels in plants, you might need to explain some things that you already know, but others might not. Remember, your goal is neither to dumb yourself down nor put yourself on an academic pedestal—your goal is to communicate a message in an effective way that can be understood by the appropriate audience.

Pick a relevant topic: Sometimes this doesn’t apply, as you have limited choices. But, whenever possible, choose a topic that you actually know something about and/or are willing to write about. Sometimes even asking your teacher/prof if you can choose your own topic is worth it. The main point: picking something you find interesting makes you more willing to put in the work to write a good essay. Pick you favourite topic out of the options (or, at a minimum, the one yo hate the least).

Experiment with the writing process: Some people swear it’s easier to write the conclusion first, while others absolutely have to write the essay in chronological order. Some people need to finish what they start, some people need to flit around and add things as they think of them. Ultimately, the order you write things is very much a personal preference, and something worth experimenting with if you’re struggling!

Cater to your writing needs: Writers will tell you that they need to set up a space to write. Some people like writing on their bed or in a cafe. Some people need absolute quiet while others can’t focus without background noise. Some people need frequent breaks for the best results, others need to sit through until they’re done. The time of day can affect your writing—writing in the morning might be really difficult if you’re most alert at midnight. Lastly, experiment with different media. Maybe writing on a laptop just doesn’t work for you, and pen and paper is the way to go. Typewriters are fun. Microsoft Word might work better for you than Google Docs. Find out what works for you and gets you into a writing headspace.

Repetition and word choice: To avoid sounding like a broken record, make sure you use a different first (and even last) word for each paragraph. I always notice when an essay writer only starts paragraphs with the word “the”. Another helpful way to vary your word choice at the beginning of paragraphs is to use different types of word, preferably words that aren’t articles (a, an, or the). Using a noun, verb, or transition word can keep things interesting and help your writing flow.

Write with an active voice: Writing with an active, positive, and resolute voice fortifies your writing. An active voice is when the subject is the focus rather than the object, whereas a passive voice is the opposite. Example: “Sally ate a grape” is active because Sally (subject) ate a grape (object). “A grape was eaten by Sally” is passive because the grape (object) was eaten by Sally (subject). Essentially, if the sentence includes (or could include) “by [Subject]”, it’s passive. Even if you wrote “A grape was eaten,” that’s still passive. An active voice includes the subject doing the action, whereas a passive voice includes the object having something done to it. It’s a wishy-washy way of writing, though it’s sometimes inevitable in formal writing because you can’t use subjective pronouns. As for a positive voice, it doesn’t mean your essay has to be happy or perky—it means your writing, when possible, should focus on the positive part (what did happen or was added) rather than the negative part (what didn’t happen or was taken away). Example: “Sally didn’t eat an apple” is negative, because it just says what Sally didn’t do. “Sally ate a grape” is positive because it said what she did do. Lastly, use a resolute voice. Be concise and to the point without muddling the message with unnecessary words. Example: “Sally just a grape” is tentative. “Sally ate a grape” is resolute. Word like “just”, “maybe”, “really”, “perhaps”, “necessarily” are not resolute and can weaken your argument. Definitely take this advice for your thesis. 

Communicate clearly: Using long or complicated words can improve your writing—but if they’re overused or used unnecessarily, it can actually weaken your argument because no one understands what you’re trying to say under all that academic jargon. If you can’t explain your argument in an understandable way, you probably don’t have a good grasp of your argument. This isn’t to discredit people who have a hard time articulating while writing or people who need to use complicated words—but the whole point of a paper is to communicate a message in an effective way. If you’re too caught up in using big words, it’s very easy to lose the actual focus of the paper.

Fortify your opening/closing statements: If the person grading your paper has a lot of other papers to go through, they’re not gonna read every word you write. Focus on strengthening your first and last sentences of each paragraph to perhaps improve your mark with the graders who skim.

Proofread: PLEASE read through and edit your work. You don’t have to completely rewrite your paper (who has the time???), but definitely proofread it when you’re done. If possible (I know it isn’t always, but it really helps), give yourself as much time as possible, then do another read through. Even waiting an hour or two and then going through it again can help you catch some last-minute mistakes. When you’ve been staring at the same paper for three hours, you kinda just ignore the mistakes because they’re burned into your brain. Going back can help you catch them and fix them before handing it in. Double check the assignment requirements, including formatting, sources, grammar, etc.

Kudos to you if you made it to the end! This took me 4 hours? 5? I hope it helps some of you in school. Essays can be a really fun thing to write if you’re passionate about the topic, and they shouldn’t be nearly as hard as school makes them. Even if you didn’t read this whole thing, I hope my graphic can be helpful! The original essay structure from the other post made me mad because no wonder some of you guys struggle! When you don’t have the tools, it makes life difficult.

Here’s a pic of my cat and dog for making it this far!

End note: I’ve never done an image description so I apologize if it’s not perfect!

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You

Genre: Romance , Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,1K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?) 

*Not all chapters have these but I’m letting this like general because as a series I think it’s better if I warn all of them at once instead of warning out of nowhere since I’ve already written some chapters*

Notes: The “Angst/Hurt/Confort” is related to the plot and how the characters will build their relationship, therefore it’ll be mentioned more than once through the chapters. Although I don’t think I made it really distressing nor anything like that, please be aware of the Warnings if you don’t feel comfortable with the themes <3

This is an EXTREMELY slow burn, if you don’t like those, I don’t think you’ll enjoy the fanfic  :’(

Updates: I’ll update it once a week because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                    ////

   Hate: a) To feel extreme enmity towards something or someone: Regard with active hostility; b) To have a strong aversion: Find very distasteful.

   Regarding all emotions someone could ever feel, you didn’t think something could be more powerful than hatred.

    What in the world could be more powerful than disliking someone to the point you couldn’t even stand their presence? It meant you would prefer to leave rather than stay. Nothing could ever beat that. Nothing. People could do insane things moved by it. Things no one should ever think about doing nor do at all for that matter. Things that could hurt and destroy everything around someone’s life.

   Even though common sense stated love was blind, you thought that maybe hate was blinder… Maybe hate was the one who blinded love. Who knew? You were sure hatred moved people to do the undoable. So what could be a better answer to your professor’s question? What was the most powerful feeling in the world?

   “Fear” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. You didn’t know if it was the black hair, the dark eyes, or that pretty face everyone felt the urge to ogle but somehow Hyunjin had that funny effect on people around him. It was like people needed to hear him, like he held some kind of mesmerizing voice that made people believe he was a wise man on a young body.

   He wasn’t.

   “How is fear greater than hate?” You scoffed, wondering why people looked at him like he knew what he was talking about “I never saw someone actively doing something because of fear but people actually make decisions based on hatred” You pointed out, smirking at him. Hyunjin couldn’t possibly retort you because you were right, and sooner or later he would have to admit it.

   “I believe you didn’t quite understand the professor’s question, my dear” He had this ridiculous accent like he was British when he clearly wasn’t, and you couldn’t help but grimace at him before he continued “He asked what is the most powerful emotion not what emotion prompt people to do something… I must say that if an emotion paralyzes you to the point you can’t make a decision ─ as you pointed out yourself─ it must be quite powerful, don’t you agree?” He had that smug look on his face, suggesting he thought he had won your argument, and you would gladly wipe that smug grin out of there if Paris didn’t interrupt you.

   “Excuse me but I think it’s love” Her voice sounded polite even though you knew she thought Hyunjin was being dumb “If fear is something that paralyzes someone and that is your argument for power, I think love can beat fear, so it’s obviously more powerful” She stated, not bothering to defend her arguments.

  Typical Paris.

   “In what world love beats fear?” He jeered, looking at her as if she was growing a third head “I’m sorry to disappoint you, darling, but life isn’t a fairy-tale” He pouted mockingly.

  What a despicable guy.

  “It’s well known that love can make someone so eager to protect another thing that you could simply ignore your fears and get stronger. Mothers can lift a car to free their child, soldiers can fight harder if they have someone to go back to! And if you consider the paralyzing feeling, knowing love can beat this would mean it’s stronger than fear… When you love you can do or give up on doing things just to be able to protect something you love” She stated proudly before you looked at your professor expecting his verdict.

   Like on cue, the bell rang, announcing your class was over.

   And so did he, waving dismissively to all of you to go.

   Great, so it was a kind of philosophical game for him.

   Your pointless argument ended up with nothing but a bunch of opinions you couldn’t say was right; and when it came to insisting on being right there was just one person in this world you could say you almost hated… Hyunjin. He came to you with his signature─ a smug grin that made you want to punch his face every day─, getting in your way to pack your things as he picked up one of your pencils, spinning it between his fingers. You didn’t even make the effort to ask it back, settling for extending your palm up, so he would give it back to you.

   “Paris may have a point but I beat you” Should you punch his face for real someday? Probably not. You should keep good grades and a perfect image so you could keep your scholarship. What a pity. You shook your hand once, a silent ask for your pencil again, and this time he put it on your palm, leaning closer as he braced himself on the desk, trying to be seductive or something “What? Are you so upset you lost to me you don’t even want to talk anymore?” He said in a mocking tone that made you glare at him.

   “Even when I’m right I don’t want to talk to you” You reminded him, throwing your bag’s strap on your shoulder “Let’s go, Paris, Chan said He was going to have lunch with us today” You took her hand and guided her to the door, walking fast so you could leave Hyunjin behind but he, unfortunately, was right on your tail.

   “It’s funny because I recall you bragging every time you’re right and I’m not hearing it now” He said, easily picking up your pass, since his legs were way longer than yours “I guess you don’t want to talk to me because you lost again” Oh god, how could he be so insufferable?! You trailed your eyes around the stairs, looking for Chan on the crowd.

   Thankfully, there he was.

   Chan was a fine guy, as anyone with two functioning eyes could see or at least guess since a lot of girls were staring at him. He was waiting in the corner, his arms crossed on his chest and his bored eyes looking at the floor while he waited for you, his dark hair falling on his eyes, obliging him to run his fingers into his locks, looking charming in the eyes of the girls ogling him. You chuckled as you saw him eyeing them disgusted, clearly bothered by people looking at him doing nothing like he was some kind of idol or something.

   “Hey, Sweety!” You shouted, making him roll his eyes at the nickname that symbolized your friendship. It was the first name you ever called him, a sarcastic remark for the typical rich guy he was, a pretty and spoiled bastard.

   The circumstances you met weren’t the best ones but somehow they worked in your favor.    

   You were working hard on pilling some boxes ─ all of them with a “fragile” sticker that made you very aware about the possibility of losing your job if you dropped one of them─, so it was only natural you were pissed as hell when someone dropped all of them at once. As if he didn’t have anything better to do, Chan stood with his right hand raised to blame, a smirk plastered on his face as he said “Ops! Sorry, Sweety” making his dumb friends laugh at you.

    You couldn’t say you were a typical rich girl especially because you were, in fact, quite poor, so your antics were totally justified by the need you had to keep your job on your hands and change your paradigm.

   It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone with a brain but he had to pay for the losses.

      So you shot him a tight smile when you saw him walking to the exit and said “Don’t forget to pay for those, Sweety”, making him shot a brow at you. You remembered clearly the way he got close to you, declaring with that cocky attitude you hated “Do you know who I am?” as if it would make any difference. You shoved him on the wall, losing your composure, and hissing at him that you didn’t care, and he should pay for it unless he was some kind of hallucination of your head.

   He came back every day after that.

   It has been four years since you two became friends against all the odds; and as a rich kid himself, Chan often paid for your meals, claiming your sorry ass should be thanking him instead of scoffing. You couldn’t help but nudge him with your elbow as soon as you got next to him, making him nudge you back as Paris clasped her hands together, her eyes beaming at your interaction.

   “It’s so beautiful how you guys love each other!” Paris couldn’t see you interacting with another human being without believing you were in love, and although it kinda annoyed you, you tried to overlook it since she didn’t have much more to hold a grudge against. She had been your roommate for the past three years at the dorms, and even though she was a hopeless romantic and annoyed the hell out of you to get together with someone, that was pretty much her only great flaw.

   You remembered perfectly how you thought your life was over once you met her.

   Your first impression of the dorm was awful as you got there and saw the overly pink and cute stuff hanging all around the place as she tried to organize everything in her room. She didn’t have much stuff but all her stuff was vibrant and girly to the point it hurt your eyes.

   You didn’t complain.                                                    

    You put your bag on the floor, looking at her with a grimace as she beamed to meet her new friend. You could say you hated to live with her in the beginning, her carefree self was annoying and her overly friendly antics pissed you off as she always asked you to do things together, watch movies, and eat, and talk and... Well, anything you didn’t want to do with someone you just met. On top of all, she was somewhat lazy and didn’t do much, which ended up with you doing all the chores.

   If you were to be fair, you were the one wearing out yourself, really.

   Everything changed on a particularly exhausting day.

   You had to be a damn good juggler on that week, working yourself until you couldn’t even think about anything clearly. You were like a zombie. A workaholic zombie. You had to go to classes, get your work done, do your assignments, clean up the dorm, study your ass off for the exams, pretend to be a normal human being by socializing with people… Well, basically you were pretty busy on being perfect as you expected you to be. It was obvious that after all your exams were finally done and you got out of work you needed to relax as soon as you got home.

    You fixed yourself something to eat, turned on the TV, crashed on the couch to watch something, and just blacked out right there.

   When you woke up on the next day’s afternoon, you got a cozy feeling above you, some fluffy blanket was thrown around your body, making you warm and peaceful. You shot your body up, sitting on the couch and looking around, alarmed, just to see the TV turned off, the dishes cleaned, the dorm tidy, and your bubbly roommate folding the clothes. You got up from the couch quickly and made a bow, apologizing profusely for being a mess and letting everything out of place on the night before. She scoffed, shrugging it off by waving her hand and said something around “I know you like to do the chores but you wore out yourself this week, you should take a break! You’re not being a burden! Isn’t helping each other out what friends do?” and it made you gasp before smiling.

    You didn’t think of her as a friend back then but it did change that day.

    “It would be even more beautiful if you didn’t try to make us swallow up your need to a nonexistent love between us every time I take you guys out” Chan pointed out, grimacing at her. You couldn’t say Chan and Paris got along even though you tried to make them friendly towards each other but you couldn’t blame Chan for being an ass since you weren’t any better to his friend.

   “So you’re taking us out to lunch? Wonderful!” Hyunjin beamed in sarcasm, knowing too well you would complain. You rolled your eyes and looked at Chan as you guys started to walk, getting on your way to his car so he could take you wherever he was planning to go.

  “It’s called a friendly gathering for a reason, Hyunjin… It means only friends can come” You feigned sympathy, pressing your lips together and looking at him with apologetic eyes. He scoffed at you and nudged Chan on the shoulder, resting his hand there as you walked.

   “I’m his friend too! He’s paying so I can go as a friend unless you want to pay for everyone, then I will have to retreat” He argued, an almost unnoticeable smirk on his lips. You pouted, turning to Chan to complain but he seemed to not pay attention to your childish argument, ignoring you as he looked straight ahead, unbothered.

   “He’s right” He stated before you could whine, showing that he was indeed hearing your conversation. Chan had this habit of pretending not to pay attention to you just to state something that showed he was tuned with everything even though he looked bored, and it always seemed to amaze you. He was a sneak little prick. You whined at him, complaining randomly so he would give up on his idea but he wasn’t buying it, pretty much ignoring you.

  “You’re rich! You don’t even need him to pay for you” You decided to complain to Hyunjin, who just shot you an amused look, scoffing.

   “You work! You don’t need it either” He pointed out, making you sigh. You looked at Paris for support but she was watching the world absent-mindedly, humming something she probably had come up with on the walk, testing over and over again some tune she seemed to like and picking up her phone quickly, recording it and sending it to you so she could save it. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and sighed.

  What great friends you had.

  “Oh! Are you going to come to Han’s game?” She asked suddenly, looking at you excited “He even said if he couldn’t score a point for us this time he would treat us afterward!” You laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking your head in disbelief.

  “Was he laughing when you took the deal?” You asked and she seemed to think hard about it, her fingers gripping her chin as she frowned, trying to recall her conversation with your mutual friend. As soon as she remembered it, she smiled and nodded, making you snort “That’s because he’s a Líbero, Paris, they can’t score any points… He was hitting on you” You explained, her eyes shining in realization.

   “He pranked me!” She uttered, laughing.

   “If you actually paid attention to his explanations you would have guessed it” You pointed out, making Chan snort “Are you coming?” You asked him but Chan shot you a pointed look.

   “Do I look like the kind of guy who would go to a volleyball match?” He asked mockingly, making you shrug.

  “You don’t look like the kind of guy who spends your time with dumbasses but here we are going to eat with one” You retorted, glancing over your shoulders so Hyunjin knew you were talking about him. You finally made it to the car. Chan clicked his key’s button, unlocking his car from afar before you got there, opening the door, and getting inside with a cool motion that made you laugh. He was so playboyish!

   “I wasn’t even doing anything right now” Hyunjin complained as he got himself on the front seat in the same way Chan did, trying to look cool. You snorted at him, getting in the car and sliding to the side so Paris could get in beside you “Is it just to get my attention?” He teased, looking over his shoulder, getting startled at your face so close to his, your arms were resting on Chan’s sit, your chin resting on your arm as you looked ahead, watching as your friend backed up.

   You didn’t hate Hyunjin or something like this, you both just teased each other every time you could. You weren’t really fond of his antics since he was just a playboy that didn’t care about anything apart from him ─ and you weren’t really the kind to feel comfortable around dickheads─, so your friendship just wasn’t meant to happen. You could tolerate him well enough when he wasn’t pissing you off at classes though. You could say you both were academic rivals, extremely smart students that liked to overcome the other by doing witty remarks and good work…

    It wasn’t about being the best student, you didn’t believe in such a thing, it was about being better than him, and he wanted to be better than you.

    You could remember clearly the first time you met.

    He was a cocky guy back then too.

    He sat right next to you even though there were tons of available seats, his smirk suggesting he wasn’t really the friendly type, so he could only be there flirting. You rolled your eyes. He tried to chat with you, talking about him and how he was taking that psychology elective because the other ones seemed too easy for him. You nodded, not really listening to his monologue, and opened your notebook as soon as the Professor came in, presenting himself and giving you a deep question that made you contemplate in silence before you answered it proudly. He scoffed. He scoffed right on your face as he retorted you, and you retorted him back, and then he retorted you again… Your endless arguing conquered a proud clap from your Professor.

    You, on the other hand, conquered a rival.

   Later that week Chan invited you to see his new place, an apartment he rented with a friend even though both of them could easily live by themselves… You could never understand them. You arrived ranting about your classes, bringing the “smartass” issue as soon as you remember, and complaining about that guy that would seat beside you twice a week.

    You regret till this very day the way you said he was a hot and annoying guy because at this very moment he showed up on his sweatpants, using a towel to dry his hair as some drops fell onto his shirtless chest. He smirked at you, teasing you by saying “Hot, hm? So you were just playing hard to get. I like it” as he leaned on the wall, hanging the towel on his shoulder and making fun of you about it till this very day.

   “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Paris was waving her hand right in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention. You shot your eyes to her, startled, smiling apologetically “We’re here” She announced, making you realize Chan was parking, a huge and presumably expensive restaurant standing there in all its glory.

   You would need to work at least to your death to be able to pay for breathing the air inside it.

  “Holy shit, are you rich?” You asked in disbelief, shock getting the better of you as you completely forgot who you were talking about. Chan grimaced at you like you were his dumb but lovingly friend, and you shot him a glare as soon as you composed yourself.

   Let Chan spend his money mindlessly and he would bankrupt his family.

                                                              ////

   You weren’t exactly the sport type but being on the grandstand together with a bunch of people you never talked to, all of you gathering by the same will to defeat the enemy… It just made its way to your mind somehow. You cheered loudly, booing at the opponents' team and their fans while clapping hard at your own team, shouting your lungs out every time Han made a good play, which was pretty often if you were fair.

   If anyone asked you when you made it to college if you would be going to games and cheering for your team, you would laugh on their faces… In fact, that was exactly what you did the first time Han asked you if you were going to his game, amused by his innocence. You two met because Paris was majoring in Music and He decided to take some music classes, which got him an invitation to a party Paris decided to throw on a Friday night.

   It was kind of cute how he was so flustered there, taking your offer for a glass of whatever Paris had mixed to serve as a drink with trembling hands. He was one of the first guys you had the pleasure to analyze as an aspiring psychologist, the clear signals of an awkward guy around the girl he had a crush all over his face: Pink cheeks, stuttering, exaggerated gesticulation, high pitched voice, inability to stay still as he swift his weight side to side, nervous eyes looking around the room…

    The poor boy was on edge, his eyes resting on Paris from time to time as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words.

    Although he was a player in the court, he was far from that on real life and you found it cute.

   You remembered how he winced startled as you patted his shoulder, he looked like a little squirrel stocking his cheeks with alcohol just so he could gulp it down and choke, confused at your knowing look. He ended up being Paris’ partner for most of their projects, obviously trying to get some alone time with her, even though she always called you to listen to their compositions, blowing his plans. All that hanging out and his friendly behavior began a loose friendship, where you went to watch his games with Paris and you two went to watch Paris’s performances, your little alliance being settled so you wouldn’t feel excluded.

   That was how thoughtful he was.

   Paris screamed, hyped by your team score, and you followed her, standing up and cupping your mouth to scream his name, his eyes searching for both of you in the crowd, a bright smile when his eyes connected to yours. You waved at his way, getting a wave as an answer before he had to focus again on his match.

   As soon as the game ended, you both waited as the sea of people made their way out of the grandstand, mostly hyped for some afterward party that certainly would be happening somewhere. You and Paris made your way to the court, waiting for Han to come back from the locker room while chatting about the game. It took him some time to take his bath and get ready, and he came out of the locker room along with some friends that patted his back and complimented his plays, waving him goodbye as soon as they saw us waiting, knowing you wouldn’t go to the party.

   “Y/N told me you can’t score a point as a Libero” Was the first thing Paris said, chuckling, making Han cackle up.

   “You should know it by now! You came to literally every game I played for… Two years? It’s insane! What did you think? That I was a terrible player?” Paris grinned sheepishly and this time you cackled up.

   “It seems like your partner doesn’t believe in your abilities” You pointed out, making him snort “Anyway, I heard you would be paying if you didn’t score anything, so it’s on you today, loser” Han grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders, pulling both of you closer as he guided you.

   “I can offer you the best hot dog in town” He agreed “Maybe even a soda if we all share it” Paris laughed, holding his wrist as she walked along with him, you took the hint to take his arm off your shoulders and let them have their moment, missing the way he pouted when you broke away the contact.

   “I can pay for our drinks” You offered, making Han gasp in mock chock.

   “Rich, aren’t we?” He joked, getting a light push on the shoulder as an answer.

   “I work for a reason, moron” You rolled your eyes “Now let’s split that bill” You smiled as the three of you made your way to your favorite hot-dog stand on campus.    

[writingblock101]

Waffles or Pancakes? (Tim Drake x Reader)

Miss me? More explanation at the bottom. Enjoy this vent fic! 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

You pick up a stone, fiddling with it in your hand. You don’t have daddy issues. The complicated relationship with your father doesn’t run that deep, and it definitely isn’t some kink… but there are a lot of unresolved problems threatening to boil over the surface. 

Complicated relationship...More like lack thereof. You suppose that’s what happens when you have divorced parents, and you only see your dad every other weekend. Then other shit happens, he marries the wrong woman, you get older and more involved in your own life, and there’s not much effort on either side. You suppose that’s the origin of most of these problems, but you’re not the adult in this situation, dammit! 

You throw the rock in frustration, watching it disappear off the side of the building, then a puddle of dread pools in your stomach. You’re on top of a building, and pedestrians are walking below, minding their own business. Sure, it may be close to 3 a.m. in Gotham, but still! Your actions have consequences. 

You rush to the side of the building to make sure you didn’t bodily injure some random person, only to look down and see empty streets. Your pebble most likely joined another heap of loose asphalt. Plopping down heavily onto the ledge of the apartment building, you stare into the streets below and idly wonder if Batman and Robin are patrolling. When do they ever sleep? Do they sleep? 

You should be asleep, and you know it. You said good night to the friend you were messaging over an hour ago, but instead of rolling over and passing out, your mind wandered to your family, specifically your father. Probably because you’re going to be seeing him in a few days for the holidays. It’s not exactly dread. Your father is a very loving man who loves you very much, but it never felt like he put effort into your relationship. Of course, it wasn’t until you were older that you realized how little effort he genuinely put in. As a child, you strived for his love, his approval, his interest. That’s what you really wanted. You knew he loved you and was so proud of you, but you also knew he was never truly interested in you or your life. And that stung. 

So now, instead of ever bringing up your dad during therapy, you’re sitting on a roof, throwing rocks into the abyss, and getting teary-eyed over arguments that will never happen. 

“Care for some company?” A voice startles you. 

You turn to see Red Robin of all people, standing a few feet away and looking as non-threatening as possible. You shrug and gesture to the ledge. 

“Plenty of ledge here for the both of us. Besides, I’m sure you could teach me a few things about perching on tall buildings.” 

Red Robin chuckles and moves to the edge of the building. He tosses his legs over the side, sitting a foot away from you, and stares out on the city. You wonder what he sees when he looks on the city. He, Batman, Robin, and Red Hood protect Gotham for whatever reason. You’re not sure this cesspool deserves it, but apparently, they see something in it. 

“I wasn’t going to jump,” You tell him. 

“I didn’t think you were,” He responds simply. 

“I’m not suicidal,” You plow ahead. “I don’t want to die, but I kept spiraling the longer I laid in bed.” 

Red Robin nods along, like he gets it, like he understands. And maybe he does. You suppose despite all the rumors about the Bats, they probably are normal humans under those cowls and masks. Humans with a deathwish, but at this point, who isn’t? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers quietly. 

“With you?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Red Robin pretends to look around the empty rooftop. 

“Well, unless you’re seeing someone that I’m not, then yeah, with me.” 

He chuckles at his own joke, and silence falls between you two again. 

“I know it’s weird,” Red Robin admits. “To talk about something that’s probably really personal with a total stranger, but I’d figure I’d offer. Talking… It helps. So if you don’t talk to me, you should think about talking to someone.” 

You pause, mulling over his words. You don’t know Red Robin. You’re pretty sure Red Robin doesn’t know you. But why would he want to listen to some pity party at 3 am on some random apartment rooftop? Surely, he has better things to do. 

But he sat down. He offered. He’s making an effort. 

That’s more than some people can say. 

You sigh heavily, your shoulders slumping. 

“It’s my dad,” You finally admit. “We’ve always had a… complicated relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t love me-- he very clearly does. He’s always been a very affectionate man, but… it feels like he was never really interested in my life. Not in a malicious way, but in an oblivious way. And when it was happening before my eyes, I was a kid, so I didn’t see it, but now being older… It’s more obvious. It’s so clear that he doesn’t know me… And it stings.” 

Red Robin listens patiently, nodding along with your words. He says nothing, letting you speak. 

“And in my head, I keep bringing up things that happened years ago that still bother me so much, but it was so many years ago. He probably doesn’t remember because he doesn’t think they’re significant moments, you know? It’s things he said in passing that he doesn’t think of as hurtful that left… Much deeper marks than I’m willing to admit.”

You sigh, scrubbing your face in frustration at the burning in your eyes. You don’t want to cry. You don’t like crying. You don’t care if you need to cry-- you cried earlier, and now, you’re not going to cry in front of Red Robin about your damn daddy issues (okay, maybe they are daddy issues, but you’re sure as hell not going to be calling anyone “daddy” in the bedroom). 

“I just… I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to put effort into a relationship that he doesn’t seem to want to put effort into. And the thing is, I doubt he even realizes that he’s doing it! If I talked to him, I’m sure we could figure something out, but… I’m not sure I want to… I love my dad very much, and I know he loves me… But I don’t think I like him.” 

Right as the words pass your lips, you feel instant regret seize your chest. 

“Oh, God, does that make me a bad person?” You bury your face in your hands, fighting back the watering in your eyes. “He’s such a loving man. He’s a damn bleeding heart, and I know if he heard me say that, it would break his heart!” 

The thought alone sends tears spilling over onto your cheeks. You love your dad, you don’t want to see him heartbroken, but it’s getting harder to ignore your own bruises. 

Red Robin scoots closer to you, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“No, it doesn’t make you a bad person,” He tells you softly. “It sounds like you’re really hurt. While we can love our family, it’s hard to like someone who’s brought you so much pain.” 

“But he… He’s so sweet,” You sob, taking a stuttering breath. “He’s one of the most loving people I’ve ever met.” 

“But that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt you,” Red Robin tells you gently. 

The tears well up in your eyes again, and you give up trying to make any sense of your thoughts. Instead, you let the tears fall. Red Robin pulls in arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm as you lean against him and silently cry. 

You two sit there in silence for what must be an hour before you finally sit up and rub your face. 

“Well, that’s certainly not how I expected this to go,” You admit sheepishly, wiping your face. “Sorry for making you listen to my dumb sob story.” 

“I’ve been there,” Red Robin offers a tissue that he produced from somewhere on his suit. “It’s not dumb. Having someone who will listen makes all the difference.” 

“Thanks,” You say softly, offering a watery smile as you blow your nose and finish wiping your face off. 

“Are you hungry?” He offers. 

“Hungry?” 

Red Robin shrugs. 

“Crying takes it out of you. And it sounds like you’ve had a long night. How about some 4 am breakfast?” 

“But I don’t have my wallet,” You dumbly state as if not having a wallet is the only issue with his proposal. 

Red Robin waves you off. 

“It’s my treat.” 

You look down at your clothes: sneakers, mismatching socks, stained sweatpants, an old sleep shirt, and the first jacket you could find in your room, which was a jean jacket. 

“You look fine,” He assures you. “Besides, it’s 4 am. If anything, you fit the vibe more than I do.” 

You giggle at that, grimacing at how tight your face feels from the crying and the snot dripping from your nose. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you glance around the rooftop. 

“How are we going to get there? I don’t have a car.” 

Red Robin pulls what looks to be a grappling hook from his side. 

“I have an idea. But I have one important question before we proceed.” 

You look at him warily. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks. 

And considering you just cried on his shoulder for the past hour and info dumped a small piece of your tragic backstory, you suppose you kind of do.

“Yeah,” You tell him. 

“Great,” He smiles. “That wasn’t the important question, but that was needed information. Get on my back.” 

You blink at him. 

“Um. What?” 

“Get on my back,” Red Robin repeats like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “I’m going to swing us to a breakfast place,” He waves his grappling hook.

“Um.” 

“You said you trust me,” Red Robin reminds you. 

And you suppose you did say that, didn’t you? He does this just about every night, he can keep you safe… Hopefully. 

Red Robin bends down so you can hop onto his back. Once he’s sure you’re securely situated with your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, Red Robin climbs up on the ledge of the apartment. Your grip tightens as he stands dangerously close to the edge. 

“Wait,” You say before he jumps. 

Red Robin turns his head in acknowledgment. 

“What was the important question?” 

He grins at you. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

“What?” 

“Waffles or pancakes?” Red Robin repeats like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“That was your important question?” You shake your head in disbelief. 

“It is an important question,” He insists. 

You pause for a moment, pondering your answer. 

“Pancakes,” You say decisively. 

“Good answer,” Red Robin grins, then steps off the building. 

For a moment, your breath is stuck in your throat as everything tenses, bracing for impact. Then, there’s a tugging—something dragging you away from the ground in a long arch. You tear your eyes away from the ground to see Red Robin almost effortlessly swinging with his grappling hook. Every shot is perfectly timed and calculated. It looks like second nature at this point, and it makes you wonder how long Red Robin has been doing this. Who is Red Robin under the cowl?

Eventually, you land in front of a mom and pop dinner which advertises 24/7 breakfast. 

“It doesn’t look like much, but this place has the best pancakes,” Red Robin promises as you slide off his back. 

You shrug, looking up at the old sign and well-loved booths inside. 

“Like you said, it fits the vibe.” 

Red Robin grins and opens the door for you. He directs you to a booth in the back. An older waitress comes by your table holding two mugs and a pot of coffee.

“Hey, Red,” She greets, looking tired but friendly. “Who’s your friend?” 

Red Robin glances over at you with a small smile. 

“A fellow pancake lover.” 

The waitress chuckles as she pours him a cup of coffee. 

“Coffee?” She offers you. 

“Uh, sure,” You’re doubtful that you’ll drink it since pulling an all-nighter sounds less than ideal but holding something warm sounds nice. 

“So, a stack of pancakes for both of you then?” The waitress asks, not bothering to write down the simple order. 

“That sounds great, Brooke,” Red Robin smiles. 

“Sure thing,” Brooke heads back to the kitchen to place the order, leaving you at the table with Red Robin. 

You blow on your hot coffee and wrap your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat. 

“Alright, another important question for you,” Red Robin begins as he adds sugar and cream to his coffee. 

You smile, ready for this all-important question with rapt attention. 

“Acceptable toppings on pancakes?” 

Midway through your heated debate about which fruits are acceptable to top pancakes with (“Oh, so pineapple can go on pizza, but it can’t go on pancakes?!”), Brooke drops off two stacks of fluffy, golden brown pancakes. While Red Robin is wrong about pancake toppings, he wasn’t lying about these pancakes being delicious.

“Okay,” You say through a mouthful of heavenly pancake. “These pancakes are delicious, but I cannot fathom the thought of you ruining them with Miracle Whip.” 

“It sounds weird, I know,” Red Robin admits, opting to dunk his pancakes in syrup only, thank God. “But trust me.” 

“Miracle Whip,” You repeat. “Like the substitute for mayonnaise.” 

“It’s sweeter than mayo!” Red Robin argues. “It’s like a sweet cream on pancakes.” 

“I think you’ve had one too many concussions.” 

“Oh, really?” You’re sure that Red Robin is raising his eyebrows at you under his cowl, judging by the look on his face. “So, what’s your excuse for orange juice and chocolate chip cookies?” 

“Okay listen,” You point your fork at him. “I never said it was my idea. A friend made me try it, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world!” 

“How can you question my judgment about Miracle Whip on pancakes when you eat orange juice with your cookies?!” 

“It’s not that different from drinking a glass of orange juice while eating a chocolate chip pancake!” 

“Yes, it absolutely is!” 

By the time you two have your fill of pancakes, coffee, and arguing, it’s close to five am. Red Robin drops you off on your apartment rooftop. 

“Thanks for the pancakes,” You smile, sliding off his back. “You’re right. I did need that.” 

“Helping is what we do,” He shrugs with a small smile. 

“If only someone could help your taste buds.” 

Red Robin laughs then shakes his head. 

“If you think mine are bad, you should see some of the things my siblings eat.” 

“There’s more of you?” You toss your head back dramatically. “What kind of cursed bloodline do you come from?!” 

Red Robin grins. 

“A diverse one,” He answers vaguely. 

“Seriously,” You tell him, sobering up. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime. If you ever need someone to talk to, go to the roof. I’ll be there,” Red Robin promises. 

“Thanks,” You say softly, then you kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Red.” 

He’s frozen for a moment, then a smile stretches across his face. 

“See you around,” He solutes, then disappears into the night like the bat he is. 

You smile to yourself and walk back to your apartment. Some sleep sounds pretty good now…

So, hey guys! It’s been a minute... 4 months to be exact... Sorry about that. I’m not dead! Just in college. I just finished an 18 credit semester so I’ve been busy and tired. Next semester will not be better. It’s suppose to be my hardest semester of nursing school, so that’s great. I am hoping over break to work through some of my requests. I think to help I’m going to try to make them shorter. I also might delete some, so if yours gets deleted, I’m sorry. Eventually request will open again and you’ll be able to request, but as of now, I’m just trying to get content out and some of the things on the upcoming don’t really do it for me. Anyways, I’ve missed y’all and I’m sorry for the wait. Thank you for being patient, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoyed this vent fic! 

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.