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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago

Note

I feel like feral reader has the biggest, saddest eyes known to man when not on a mission, they just want love and pack. It's not their fault they're so feral. They were /made/ to be a weapon, when all they wanted was peace

If feral's an alpha - I can see them hunting down snacks and bringing it to the 141 like "look! I can provide! I can be gentle!" And just watching them eat with those (almost weirdly) big eyes.

If feral's an omega - I can see them hiding away and trying to frantically nest, to give themself somewhere safe. It's not right, there's no pack scent so it just pushes them further into the feral mentality, but (once) if feral swipes some of the packs' items, it does help. It's messy, it's too small, but its a nest, and its theirs and thats all that matters

And omg imagine if feral gets hurt and needs to be hospitalized

The higher ups demand that they be cuffed to the bed, but when the 141 sees feral, they see someone who's just scared. Scared of the hospital and scared of themself. They've been stripped of the muzzle, chains, and scent patches, and look so utterly /weak/. Their scent is distorted from the cruel use of scent blockers, meaning telling their designation from that is impossible.

And then they're so drugged up on pain meds that their walls are lower, and a /lot/ more talkative without their muzzle...

Igh just imagine the sweetest fluffiest angst that hurts so good

(Not a request, just some of my rambles)

👽

do you know that you ate with this ask? because you did. you absolutely did 😩 i loved reading all your thoughts about feral reader, especially the speculation of how they'd act depending on their designation!! the part abt the hospital works so well with what i had planned so i hope you like what i've added to it <33

CW: human trafficking omegaverse masterlist

The hospital room is quiet, sterile, and suffocating.

John clenches his jaw as he steps inside, his sharp eyes scanning every inch of the space. He sees the IV lines, the machines monitoring vitals, the thick, military-grade cuffs securing your wrists to the bed. You look so small like this- nothing like the unrelenting force they fought beside.

Here, right now, you’ve been stripped of everything that made you feral.

No muzzle, no reinforced collar, no scent patches suppressing your pheromones into oblivion. For the first time since you’d been forced into their pack, they could see you. And it guts them.

Because you aren’t some bloodthirsty creature bred for war.

You’re just scared.

Your fingers twitch weakly against the restraints, dull nails scratching uselessly at the cuffs, but there’s no real struggle. No vicious snapping of teeth, no blank, unfeeling stare of a tool awaiting its next order. You barely even react to them entering the room.

Your scent is muddled- soured by years of suppressant use, reduced to something broken and incomplete. It makes it impossible to tell your secondary gender, but it doesn’t matter. Not to them.

The steady drip of the pain meds in your IV dulls everything- your body is sluggish, barely responding, but it also lowers the walls that kept them from truly knowing you.

“… ‘S too quiet,” you mumble, blinking slowly. Your voice is hoarse from disuse, raspy from the damage the muzzle had done to your jaw. It’s the first time any of them have heard you speak so calmly, in a controlled setting that isn't a battlefield, without the muzzle in place.

Johnny is the first to move, dragging a chair close so he can sit beside you. His movements are slow and careful- like approaching a wounded animal.

“Aye, hospitals tend to be,” he says gently. “Bit shite, aren’t they?”

Your lips press together in something that might be the ghost of a frown. “... Hate it.”

The words are so soft. They’re used to you tearing apart enemy soldiers with your bare hands, not murmuring complaints like a child unhappy with their surroundings.

“Yeah, I know,” Gaz murmurs from the other side of the bed. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “You, uh… don’t like small spaces, do you?”

Your response is slow, weighted with exhaustion, and your eyes flicker between them yet remain unfocused. “Not the spaces.” A small pause. “The waiting.”

John exhales slowly through his nose, crossing his arms. You were never allowed to wait. You were a tool, a weapon unsheathed only for war. They never let you have quiet. The only time you weren’t fighting was when you were locked away, bound and muzzled like a rabid dog.

It’s sickening.

You shift against the restraints, huffing when they keep you pinned in place. “‘M not gonna run.”

“Yeah, we ken, sweetheart.” Johnny says before he can stop himself. The pet name slips out, but you don’t flinch. If anything, your muscles relax just a little.

Simon, who has been silent in the corner up until now, finally moves. His mask is still in place, but his scent- bitter with restrained frustration- is unmistakable. He steps closer, gloved hands reaching out to carefully unfasten the cuffs.

It’s a risk. The higher-ups demanded you remain restrained, even sedated if necessary. Hell, it was a fight for the doctors to convince them to take off the collar and muzzle.

But Simon doesn’t give a fuck.

You blink sluggishly up at him as he undoes the clasps, rubbing absent circles over the raw skin left behind. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the way your fingers twitch under his touch.

You don’t lash out. You don’t fight. You just watch him with the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever fucking seen.

Fuck.

“We shouldn’t be here,” you say, words slurring together slightly. “Don’t- don’t need to waste time. ‘M just a weapon.”

Something cracks in John’s chest.

“No, you’re not.” he says firmly.

You blink slowly at him. “… That’s what they said.”

“Well, they don’t know shit.” Gaz snaps, unable to help himself.

Your lips part slightly, as if you hadn’t expected that. As if no one had ever disagreed with that sentiment before.

Johnny leans forward, his voice softer now. “You’re not a weapon, bonnie.” His fingers twitch again before he finally gathers the courage to reach for you, brushing a careful hand over your hair. You don’t flinch. Don’t move away. Your eyes slip shut under the warmth of his touch.

It’s the first time you’ve been touched like this. Not in combat, not in restraint, but with care.

“Jus’ want pack." You mumble, so quiet they almost miss it. And fuck- if that doesn’t make their chests ache.

They knew it wasn’t your fault. They knew you were made into what you are, forced into something unnatural. They’ve seen you- seen the way you watch them, longing written in the lines of your body, in the fleeting glances and hesitant movements that scream of someone who just wants.

And now, stripped of the chains and the regulations that kept you leashed, they see you for what you truly are.

Not a weapon, nor a monster.

Just a broken little thing that was never given a choice.

Johnny keeps petting your hair, Gaz is murmuring quiet reassurances, and Simon hasn’t moved his hand from yours. John steps closer, resting a heavy, grounding palm on your ankle.

“We’ve got you,” John says, voice low and steady. “You’re pack now.”

Your breath hitches slightly. Your walls are too low, your body too exhausted to mask the emotions that flicker across your face.

And for the first time since they met you, you look safe.

(John just wishes the reality you'll face once you are recovered was far, far nicer to you).

Later, Ghost is the only one still awake with you. Johnny dozed off in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted back in an uncomfortable angle that would have left him sore in the morning if it weren't for the scarf Simon bundled in the crook of his neck. Gaz and John left hours ago, forced back to their own quarters under the watchful eyes of command. They’ll be back in the morning.

For now, it’s just you and Simon, the quiet hum of the hospital machines, and the weight of something unspoken between you.

Until you speak up again.

“Y’know,” you murmur, eyes closed, voice rough from disuse. “I wasn’t always like this.”

Simon stills.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe for a second, like any sudden shift might scare you away from whatever you’re about to say. His hands tighten over his knees, fingers curling into the fabric of his fatigues.

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll either continue or shut down completely. He prays it’s the former.

There’s a long silence before you exhale, long and slow, staring up at the ceiling like the words are carved into the sterile white panels above you.

“They took me in the middle of the night,” you say quietly. “Didn’t hear ‘em coming. Should’ve. Should’ve smelled ‘em.” Your lips press together, something dark flickering over your face. “But why would I? I was just... doing something. Near a car, and then- then I got knocked out before I even... knew they were there."

Simon doesn’t ask who. Not when it means interrupting you, not in this fine, delicate moment with its hands grasped around his throat. But he can guess and connect the dots, though; It’s always the same types. People who think they can own things. Who see others as commodities, as something to be bought and sold.

His fists clench.

“Woke up in a cage,” you continue, voice distant, like you’re narrating someone else’s story. “Couldn’t tell how many others were there. Too many. Some crying. Some too scared to move. Some already…” You swallow hard. “Already gone."

Ghost keeps his breathing steady, keeps his hands still even though his body screams to move, to do something. But this isn’t something he can fix. He can’t go back in time, can’t put a bullet in the heads of the men who did this to you. The only thing he can do is listen.

“I remember thinking,” you murmur, lashes heavy, eyes wet. “if I just waited, someone would come.” A bitter, breathless laugh slips past your lips. “Someone always comes. That’s what they all say, right? That someone always comes.”

Simon knows better than anyone that sometimes, no one does. Sometimes, you have to claw your own way out. Sometimes, it would still not save you.

He says nothing, just watches as you shift slightly against the pillows, your fingers twitching restlessly atop the blanket.

“They started selling people off,” you say. “One by one. Didn’t matter if they fought, if they screamed. Just lined them up, packed them into trucks, and that was it.”

A pause. Your eyes fluttered shut, a lone tear rolling down your face.

Then, quieter:

“No one came.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Suffocating. Simon still waits, letting you decide if you want to keep going. You don’t look at him, but your fingers twitch again, this time like you’re reaching for something absent.

“Didn’t matter what I wanted,” you whisper, now more to yourself than to him. “Didn’t matter who I was. I was just a thing to them. Something to be sold. Caged.”

He knows that feeling too well.

He knows what it means to be stripped of personhood, reduced to nothing but flesh to be used and discarded. He knows the rage, the helplessness, the slow descent into something feral and unrecognizable. But unlike you, he had John Price's need to adopting strays to reel him back in. But you-

“What happened?” he finally asks, low and rough as gravel.

Your lips part, and for a moment, he thinks you won’t answer.

“I killed them.”

Simple. Unapologetic. Matter-of-fact.

Ghost doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react at all. He just waits.

“First one was easy,” you say, exhaustion coloring every letter. “He was the one who opened the cage. Didn’t think I’d fight. Thought I was too weak, too scared. I was scared.” You exhale. “But not enough to let them take me.”

Your fingers curl into the sheets, grip tightening.

“They were so scary.” Your voice is flat, emotionless, but Simon can see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pulse jumps against your throat and reflects on the heart monitor. “Strong. Trained. Bigger than me. Didn’t matter.” A small, humorless smile twitches at your lips. “Didn’t matter how much stronger they were. I fought like a fucking animal.”

Ghost can picture it.

You, starved, exhausted, barely more than skin and bone- tearing through men who thought they were untouchable. Clawing, biting, ripping, killing. Not for sport. Not for pleasure. Just to survive.

It was never a choice; the only other option was death.

“I didn’t stop,” you admit, softer now. “Even when they were all dead, even when there was no one left, I couldn’t stop.” A deep, shuddering breath. “I was stuck like that. Didn’t know how to turn it off. Still don’t.”

The silence stretches long between you, until Simon breaks it; “Not your fault,” he murmurs, waiting for you to look at him with those glassy, painfully big eyes. He shakes his head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

Your throat bobs, something unreadable passing over your face and for a long time, neither of you speak. “You’re the first person I’ve told.” You admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Simon’s fingers twitch. He wants to touch you. Wants to pull you close until he can rub his face and scent all over every crevice of your body. Not to restrain, not to command- just to comfort. But he doesn’t. He can't.

Instead, he just nods, voice soft when he says: “..Get some rest, love. We’ve got you now.”

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sweatyracoon · 8 months ago

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How Skz Reacts to your Anxious Ticks

A/n: I have a lot of anxious energy, and many ticks, so why not do a Skz react? Should I do more Skz reacts?

Warnings: Lots of anxiety, blood (not a lot), pet names(baby), talk about getting sick, stress eating, implied panic attacks

Bangchan: Foot tapping

You would be sitting with the guys in the changing room before a concert. Even though you wouldn't be going anywhere near the stage, you were a nervous reck.

Your worries started when Chan slipped on stage, faceplanting right before his verse, triggering something in you. Ever since then, you always worried.

There was a small ambiance, the staff and group members talking, offering a noise buffer, but it wasn't enough.

You didn't realize your foot was tapping until you caught Chan's stare. He looked between you and your foot, motioning for you to calm down.

All you could do was pause your movements until his attention drifted to Hyunjin.

You kept tapping.

It wasn't long before Chan made his way to you, ten minutes before the show.

"Y/n. You're doing it again," He told you with a smile.

"I can't help it, Channie," you responded, looking at him. "What if you fall again?"

He looked surprised. "Y/n, that was two years ago," he said softly, sitting next to you.

"So? It could happen again," You were being stubborn. It wasn't like you.

"How about I promise you that I won't fall," he reached out with his pinky, waiting for you to take it in your own.

"But you don't know that," you whined, making him smile.

"Okay, okay. Fine. How about...I promise to be careful?" Now he was just trying to make you happy.

And it worked.

You nodded, slotting your pinky into his, sealing the deal. He ruffled you hair before saying a quick good luck, and left to the stage.

Lee Know: Finger nail biting

You hadn't known the boys long, but you all were incredibly close. Bangchan being your brother, he invited you with him everywhere.

You were particularly fond of Lee know, but he seemed indifferent. He cared about you, but he was expressionless all the same.

He had started picking up on random habits you began to aquire, one of them bring fingernail biting.

It wasn't safe, nor was it healthy, so anytime be caught you biting a nail, he was there, a scolding ready.

Or at least, that was his plan. But when he came up next to you, ready to interfere, you would look up at him, pausing your mission, your finger still in your mouth. His heart nearly stopped.

Instead of saying anything, he would gently remove your fingers by grasping your wrist slightly, moving it your side.

He would do this whenever he had to.

Cooking? He would stop everything, washing his hands before and after touching you. Who care about the food?

If he's doing an interview and sees you chewing behind the camera? He'll find a moment he isn't needed just to halt your habit.

If he isn't anywhere near you, but Felix snitched through text? He would call you just to make sure you weren't really biting your nails.

"Are you biting, y/n?"

"No..."

"I'm checking your nails tomorrow. You better not be lying, jagi,"

Instead of punishing you, however, when he sees your shortened nails, all he does is look at you, your hand still in his.

"You got to stop, jagi," he whispers, massaging your hand.

"I'm sorry, Lee know. It's just hard,"

"I know, baby,"

Changbin: Stress eating

You were a known eater in the group along side Changbin and Bangchan. The three of you? Eatracha(lol).

But when Changbin noticed you eating twice as much, he assumed it was stress. You looked sad while you ate, which was new.

He took it upon himself to eat with you, the same amount, and he felt sick. But he didn't want you to feel alone.

It was when you started to physically get sick that he decided to intervene.

"Y/n? Maybe you should stop..." he told you, rubbing your shoulders.

In tears, you said, "But I can't, Bin. I've tried. It's like my body needs me to eat, but it can't take that much," you sniffled, leaning into his touch.

"Oh, honey. It's okay. We can just lower your portion slowly. That way, you can get used to eating less, but at a healthy pace, okay? Sound good?" He asked, moving up to your neck.

Feeling the pleasure from his rubs made your head loll back.

"Yeah..."

Hyunjin: Finger tapping

He thought it was cute at first. You tapping the table gently, hearing the soft thuds of your dull fingers. You had just cut your nails, so it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it gave him ideas for music, not that you would notice. Hearing the same beat you had recently tapped yourself, you weren’t focused on it.

A few days went by, and you were still doing it. If your hands weren’t busy, tap. Tap. Tap. Hyunjin wasn’t the only one that noticed. Bangchan and Changbin both noticed as well, and Jeonjin later. They all told you what was going on, but you just played it off as a habit from childhood, despite them knowing you for years and not once had you had this issue.

As your nails grew, so did the tune of the taps. They seemed more aggressive, more painful. You hit the table harder.

One of your nails broke, causing your finger to bleed. You didn’t notice. You kept tapping.

It was just you and Han in the room. He was on his phone, distracted. He became used to the tapping. It didn’t bother him. You stared at the wall, still moving your fingers through the bloody table, while Hyunjin walked in.

A small gasp, and rushed footsteps caught your attention.

“Hyunjin? What’s wrong?” You asked, oblivious.

“Y/n! Your hands!” He was struggling to sit still at the sight of your blood smeared on the table. You finally stopped tapping, at least.

“Oh…” Was all you could say before you heard a scuttling in one of the drawers. It was Han. He had finally noticed, grabbing some bandages. “I didn’t..I wasn’t…”

“What the hell, y/n? Do you not notice what you’re doing?” Hyunjin muttered, grabbing the bandages from Han, moving towards your hand. He gently pulled your hands towards his own, quickly wrapping it to stop the bleeding.

“Han?” Hyunjin said, but Han only nodded. You watched as we went to go get disinfectant and towels to clean up the table. “Y/n? Look at me,”

You did, embarrassed that this happened in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you started tearing up, your shoulders shaking. You were so anxious, but you had no idea why.

His gaze softened, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m here,”

Han: Hair twirling

You hair want too long, so it didn’t really get in the way. But you liked hair, even your own. After touching Hans for the first time a few months ago, you were hooked. But you knew you couldn’t bother him all the time just to mess with his hair, so you started playing with your own. It wasn’t the same, but it was different, in a good way.

Every day, the boys would eye your hands in your hair, and they never questioned it. They thought it was a girl thing. Right?

Three months later, you were anxious. Immediately, your hands went to your hair. Whenever you were upset? Hair. It was so comforting. Even when you were angry. Scared? Cover your face with your hair, and mess with the dead ends. It cured everything.

Han tripped and fell one day right in front of you, and it scared you. It was so sudden. You knew he was clumsy, but the way he squealed reached your ears at full volume. It was too much.

You jumped back a little, bringing both of your hands to pull your hair in front of your eyes, using your thumb to mess with the tips.

“Jisung? You okay?” You asked from behind your makeshift shield.

“Yeah…? Are you?” You heard him giggle, patting himself down. He shouldn’t be too dirty, we were only in the kitchen, after all.

“Yeah…” you responded. You dropped your curtain, but kept your hand in your hair, twirling it quickly.

Han noticed this and his smile slowly dropped, replaying every moment similar to this one. And one thing was the same in each. Your hair. He was always confused on what started it, but it didn’t seem to harm you, so he was fine with it. But now, he wanted to know.

“Why are your hands always in your hair?” He finally asked, not really meaning to.

“Oh? I just like the way it feels. It’s soothing, I guess,” you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

He got an idea, one that will hopefully change your habit. “Wanna feel mine?” He raised a brow, sending a smile to you.

Your eyes brightened, making his heart flutter. “Really?” You asked, both of your hands now free from the prison that is your hair.

Han nodded.

You both ended up on the couch, his head in your lap as you played with his hair, massaging his scalp.

“I need this to last forever,” Han whispered as you rubbed a sore spot on his lower neck.

“Isn’t forever a long time?” You giggled. However, your heart dropped at his next words.

“Perhaps it isn’t long enough,”

Felix: Lip biting

It started really quick into the friendship. They wanted you with them for every show, and every event. That’s how close you were. But the random photos from strangers and invading fans were just too much. Your privacy was no longer private, and it worried you. It started to affect your sleeping, your eating, and your patience.

You became extremely anxious, which didn’t go unnoticed by the guys. They were always trying to comfort you with something, but it never seemed to last. But you smiled, not wanting to worry them.

The lip biting started at night. You couldn’t sleep, and was bored. You didn’t touch your phone, not wanting to see what people say about you and your friends. It was an accident at first. You bit your lip, wincing at the sudden pain. But then your teeth grazed them again, catching on dry skin. It was annoying you, so you just bit it. And kept going.

You stopped drinking as much water just so your lips could dry out, wanting to bite them again.

While in the dance room with the boys, you were biting, starting off gently. You didn’t want to bleed in front of the boys. They weren’t dancing, but just hanging out. They had to shoot an m/v later in the day, so they wanted to relax.

Bite. Seungmin was messing with Jeonjin, making him form a fist. Bite. Chan was talking to Lee know about the choreo. Bite. Han, Changbin and Hyunjin were sitting in a circle, playing a game. Bite. Wait…

You felt something warm slide down your chin. Then you smelt it. Blood.

“Y/n? Oh my god!” You were grateful Felix whispered, not catching anyone’s attention.

He stood quickly, grabbing your hand and taking you to the restroom. He walked into the girls bathroom without a care in the world, which would have made you giggle if it weren’t for this situation.

“Are you okay? Is the cut deep? What happened?” He ran the water, grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and brought it to your lip.

“Mm ‘Kay,” you muffled, the towel hindering your speech. You saw the ghost of a smile form on his own, making you feel better.

When he moved the now red towel, the bleeding had slowed, making you lick them every so often. You looked at Felix and his sad expression.

“It was an accident. I promise. It won’t happen again,” you promised.

“You sure?”you nodded.

After seeing his worry, and how he took care of you, you knew you would never bite your lip again.

Seungmin: Finger popping

Seungmin popped his knuckles, so why did he feel yours was unnecessary and annoying? Were you copying him? Or mocking him? He didn’t know. But when he walked into Hans room, he didn’t expect to see you on the floor, desperately trying to pop your back.

When you felt the need to pop a bone, doesn’t matter which one, you must pop it quickly, or else you start to get anxious. This was one of those moments. You had popped your elbows, your knees, fingers and neck. Lastly was your back, but you couldn’t get this part. It was too low, so turning on the ground wouldn’t work. And neither was pushing your weight down from a higher surface. You were starting to panic.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” You ignored his words, desperately trying to relieve your growing stress.

“Y/n?” He said a bit louder, seeing you glance at him as you started breathing heavier. “Hey! Hey? What the matter?” Now he was starting to worry.

“My back..”

He looked you up and down before asking, “Does it hurt?” He went to place his hand where you were holding, applying soft pressure.

“No. Needs to pop,” You whimpered, making his eyes widen.

“What?” He went to remove his hand, but you stopped him.

“Could you pop it please? I don’t like it,” You pleaded with him.

You two weren’t close, so seeing this side from you shocked him. Still, the sound of your uncomfortable plead was enough to break him.

“Okay. Show me where,” you did, waiting for him to apply pressure. “Ready?” You nodded, and gasped when he pushed down. The loud pop echoed through the room, making him flinch, pulling his arm from you.

Sitting for a moment to feel the relief, you then turned to him. Your eyes shined and you had a soft smile.

“Thanks, Seungmin. I really appreciate it,”

His heart felt like it would burst. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling, but he knew that if you ever needed him to pop something, he’d be there. So that’s exactly what he said, making you feel the same way.

“Thank you, Minnie,”

“Your welcome, y/n,”

Jeonjin: Rapid blinking

You were a fan in the audience, not jumping like the rest, but paying the same amount of attention. You were an introvert, no doubt, and didn’t show excitement despite feeling it very much. You had a front row ticket, and was right in front of the eight boys you came to love. Your bias, Jeonjin, was right in front of you, singing his part for ‘I Lose my Breath’, literally making you lose yours.

You started blinking, thinking it was the fog machines effecting you, but it was something else. You didn’t know what until it was too late. The crowd pushing behind you, you felt pressure building inside your chest. No one was touching you, thank god, but you felt the presence of the fans. It was suffocating.

You fell into a blinking fit, unable to keep them open, and unable to keep them closed. This had never happened before, but you weren’t surprised. It was a tic. It would take a while to stop it. So, as to not disturb anyone next to you, you tilted your head, looking at your shoes, or at least, trying to.

You kept blinking, not fighting it, knowing it will make it worse. It started to slow when you felt a tap on your shoulder. It came from in front of you. A security guard? You slowly looked back up, your vision fighting the bright lights. Then you stopped breathing.

Jeonjin?

He was standing in front of you with a worried expression. On stage, it was now dance break, meaning he didn’t need to sing. He was making sure you were okay.

Since he saw you, he felt a pull from that stage, making him linger near your area. He saw that you didn’t even have your phone out like the rest, not jumping or anything. Just swaying lightly on your feet while smiling every time he looked at you. You were a calm in the storm. He liked that. And when he saw you staring at the floor for fifteen minutes, he got worried. Did you not like the show? Did he do something wrong? Did his pants rip?

But when he got to you, he noticed your eyes were watery. He didn’t know why, and didn’t need to either. He motioned for your phone from your front pocket, and you slowly gave it to him, thinking he was going to take a selfie, instead, he was typing. Why? You didn’t know. He came close to your ear after giving it back, and said,

“After the show. Don’t look until then,” was all he said before winking, and walking back to his members.

You stood there confused, but focused on the rest of the show.

After you made it to your hotel after thee show, you checked your phone, wondering what he could have possibly left you. Everything looked normal. You were confused. But when you opened your messages, you saw his name as one of the contacts. What?

You opened it, seeing he already texted himself. You gasped, not sure what to make of it. You slowly typed out something, but didn’t send it, unsure if this was real. Thirty minutes later, you saw his bubbles. He’s texting you?!

“You going to send it or just let it sit?”

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avcdgrdn · 8 months ago

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── .✦ [ FIC ]: coffee date with ford ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

stanford pines x reader fluff // based off of this headcanon post.

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

you could tell that something was off as soon as you walked into the house.

the mystery (s)hack has officially run out of coffee beans ... and there's a grumpy grunkle to show for it.

"uuugh..."

six rough fingers moved to wearily rub the forehead of their owner: a sleep-deprived scientist who'd stayed up late last night working on a project. of course, whether the project was actually worth losing sleep over or not wasn't entirely relevant ... ford just didn't want to go to bed and deal with his thought-filled brain. despite his troubles with bill being behind him, there often are nights where he just can't fight the paranoia.

trudging out into the kitchen, the broad-built man leaned against a countertop with one arm, heaving a low and rumbling sigh.

"well, well. good morning, sunshine." a gruff voice called out from across the room, accompanied by the sound of cereal pouring into a bowl. stanley was ' making breakfast ' for dipper and mabel, who waited eagerly at the table. "didja get enough beauty sleep?"

"i'll answer that question after i have my coffee." ford huffed, eyes still half-shut and darkened with exhaustion. upon hearing those words, stan trailed out an 'uhhhh' and glanced towards the coffee machine.

"about that, sixer ... it's all gone. i was gonna grab another bag the last time i was out, but i got distracted."

if, by being distracted, he meant attempting to shoplift a twelve-pack of pitt cola and getting caught, he was technically telling the truth.

"what."

the corner of ford's left eye twitched. no coffee? how could he have overlooked such a possibility? great ... just great.

after a moment longer of taking in the unfolding scene from the open front door, you decided to speak up.

"uh, everything okay?"

everyone's attention shifted to you. you'd only been staying with the pines family for a few days as a temporary fix for your living situation, but somehow, it was beginning to feel like home. mabel grinned brightly upon seeing you, waving her small hands in the air.

"hiya, cutie !! back from your morning walk? how'd it go?"

you met her honey brown eyes, and a smile crept onto your expression.

"it was lovely, thanks." you made your way into the house, closing the front door behind you and promptly taking a seat beside the smaller twins at the table. the grunkles observed you, following suit and each coming over to fill the remaining empty seats.

"i hope ya like cereal, cause i can't cook for my life!" stan grinned, gave everyone a bowl of cereal, and the feasting began.

mabel scarfed down her bowl, akin to how waddles might eat his own breakfast. dipper and stan both ate slowly, while you were somewhere in the middle. the only odd one out was ford, who hadn't touched his spoon at all. his head was rested against one hand, and his eyes were shut, as if he were deep in thought or (more likely) dozing off. still, he looked like he should at least eat something ...

"ford?" you called from across the table, spoon in hand.

"i- wh- ... huh?"

he stammered, a faint shade of crimson tinting his cheeks as he snapped awake and stared at you like a deer in headlights. stan snickered.

"what's wrong?" your voice was concerned, with an undertone of amusement. it seemed unnatural for him to act so disheveled, considering how your first impression of him was extremely put-together and educated. although, you couldn't say you disliked this side of him.

he cleared his throat. "well, you see, we've ... run out of coffee. during days like these, i rely on the caffeine to keep me awake."

"i see." you crunched on another mouthful of cereal, swallowing with a thoughtful hum. "isn't there a good café somewhere near here?"

at that, ford raised his bushy brows. a café? that's a good point.

"it must be relatively new, because i can't say that i've ever been to such an establishment in town." he mused, stroking his chin stubble as he attempted to recall the various changes that had occurred in gravity falls since he'd returned after being gone for thirty years.

"i could take you, if you like."

"...what?"

and now, all eyes were on you.

blinking innocently, you restated your offer.

"i said, i could take you, if you like. i've been there a few times myself, and they've got a lot of good options."

"gasp !! like a date ??" mabel squealed, only to be elbowed by her twin brother. her comment earned a darker blush from ford and a choke from stan.

"u-um ... i wouldn't necessarily say a da-"

"ahem! i accept your offer. it would be good for me to get out of the house, anyway." ford hurriedly interrupted you, averting his gaze as he straightened his trench coat and adjusted his turtleneck. a stifled squeal of joy could be heard from the kids' end of the table.

and just like that, you found yourself strolling down the sidewalk, side by side with the tired scientist. he had freshened up somewhat, having taken the time to tame his bedhead hair and clean his dusty glasses. even while sleep deprived, he looked handsome in the warmth of the sunlight. catching yourself staring, you quickly averted your gaze to in front of you, focusing on where you were walking. ford had most definitely seen you looking, but chose not to say anything about it.

the silence wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but it certainly was not commonplace for either of you. you've been living on your own for a while now, so you're acquainted with silence, but not the kind shared with another person. on the flip side, ford has slowly been learning to cherish peace and quiet again after getting rid of bill's voice in his head.

upon arriving at the café, the two of you took in the inviting atmosphere, inhaling the scent of brewing coffee and sweet pastries as the little bell hanging from the door jingled to signal your appearance. ford visibly relaxed, already pleased.

"you know what you want?" you questioned with a smile, glancing up to meet his eyes.

"mm, i think i'll have the cold brew with vanilla cream." he replied, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a somewhat shy grin. you swore you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

"alright." making your way up to the cashier, you put in your order for two drinks, pulling out your wallet and selecting the appropriate bills to pay for the both of you. ford was somewhat shocked that you had made the move to pay for his drink, and his bashful smile grew as you found a table to sit down at.

"thank you, that was very generous of you." he adjusted his glasses, sitting across from you and giving you a brief once-over. "i could have covered it, you know."

"ah, don't worry about it." now that you thought about it, this was the first time that you were spending one-on-one time with him, apart from the rest of the family ... was this really a date, like mabel had said? your face began to heat up at the notion, but you quickly distracted yourself by looking down to fidget with the edge of your sleeve.

feeling the need to break the silence, the silver-streaked man shifted in his seat. "so ... tell me about yourself."

he was clearly showing interest in getting to know you, which was flattering, and somewhat endearing. given his quiet demeanor, it was obvious that socialization was not his strong suit. still, you couldn't deny that he had a certain rugged charm about him.

staring out the window, you thought for a moment, then spoke. "for starters, you know that i'm working on moving into a house." there was another pause as you mulled over your next words. "i'm interested in the strange phenomenons here in gravity falls. i was raised in another state, but my family relocated here while i was in high school. that's what got me curious about certain ... abnormalities." you smiled softly, fixing your gaze onto him. "i think unusual things are wonderful."

stanford was practically slack-jawed, his dark brown eyes shining with the wonder of a child in love. any previous hesitation was completely abandoned.

"why, that's what i've dedicated my life purpose to for years!" his wide shoulders leaned over the table, bringing his face closer to your own. "i've been keeping journals-"

he was interrupted by a barista calling out your name across the café. regretfully, you had to tear your attention from his enthusiasm, standing to go collect your drinks from the counter. for some reason, the thudding of your heart was very loud.

returning to your seat, you put ford's cold brew in front of him before taking a swig of your own drink. he carefully picked up the cup, observing it from a few different angles before raising it to his lips. he took a long sip, then made a low, content hum. "yes ... this is exactly what i needed." you could already see the caffeine revitalizing him. "now, where was i? ah, yes! the journals."

the next hour and a half consisted of him infodumping about the journals and all of the wonderful things he's seen and done. he earned quite a few reactions from you, each of which inflated his ego even further. by the end of his rant, he was on an energetic and emotional high.

the two of you were laughing at some corny one-liner he'd thrown in, and ford leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest as it heaved with deep chuckles.

"you know, i haven't talked with anyone like this in a while, besides stanley and the kids, of course." a warm smile graced his features. "i'm glad that you invited me here. and ..." he trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "... i think you're an interesting person. clearly, we share the same passion."

oh, crap. why was he looking at you like that? why was it hot? you could feel yourself slowly losing your composure. why did your type have to be nerds?

"t-thanks. i think you're interesting, too." you blushed, smiling and feeling giddy.

"we should do this again, yes?"

"i would love to."

end (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

author's note:

expect more ford content from me (he's literally my pookie)

also if you give me feedback i love you

if you have any fic ideas, shoot me a request!

#gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanfiction #fluff #he is literally my pookie wookie schmookie #avcdgrdn fic

237 notes · View notes

sglossmin · 27 days ago

Text

Muse | MYG pt. 4

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You’re here for an appointment for therapy and he’s your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader —> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: matured theme!! SO MUCHHH TEASING, sexual tension

Word count: it's many i think

A/N: Hope u guys enjoy heh Thank you for 60+ followers!! English isn't my first language so pardon me if there's any wrong grammar:/

Comment your @ if u wanna be added to the taglist^^

part 1 part 2 part 3 read here^^

Sitting across me is my new client, Mr Jung. It's the first time I met him.

Or is it?

As he sat, he greeted me, "Hello, Ms Jeon. Nice to meet you!" he smiled. Beaming me with his heart-shaped smile.

We decided to meet up in a cafe not so far from his work. He never told me what his work is though. He is casually dressed but fancy enough to out-dress me.

It is about 10 am when he came.

I thought he'll be like one of those chaebol guys I've watched in dramas. He ordered a really fancy painting.

Why does he looks so familiar?

Jimin cleared his throat and nudged me to bring me back to my senses.

"Oh- Nice to meet you too, Mr Jung." I smiled back.

I never really get to used into these new meeting stuffs. It's a great thing I have Jimin by my side. With his presence, everything seems to be at ease. The deals becomes easier with him.

"No need to call me Mr Jung, just call me Hoseok."

I nodded and called him by his name.

"Should we order first?" Jimin suggested.

"You guys can order, I'm pretty much full." If I eat or drink anything, I might vomit out of nervousness.

Jimin raised a brow. He gave me the 'You ate already? you don't usually eat in the morning' look.

I smiled sheepishly at him and he just ordered me a water.

He's the best.

We talked about how the painting were done, the details, the customized parts Hoseok wanted me to add. He hummed, satisfied with the work.

After eating, we went to the car to get the framed painting.

"Woah~~ My friend will really love this painting." Hoseok exclaimed as he looked at the piece of art. "He's an art lover, you see."

I chuckled, satisfied with my work seeing how my efforts are paid off.

"So, it is for a friend." Jimin chimed in.

Hoseok grinned as he nodded. "It's for his birthday, my friends and I have a... little competition on who will get him the best gift."

He stared at the painting more and I felt myself observing his reaction. So far, all I'm getting is positivity. I love it when people adore my arts.

"Uh...Can I have a picture with the artist herself?" Hoseok teased and passed Jimin his phone.

With the painting in his arms, we smiled back to the camera. We took a few shots before Jimin became contented. I was closed on rolling my eyes at him. It felt like we were in a photoshoot instead of just taking pictures for remembrance. He told us to pose like this and that.

Hoseok hummed in satisfaction as he looks at the pictures.

"Thank you, Ms Jeon. I really love the painting."

I smiled shyly. Jimin nudged my shoulders as he grinned back. "Quit blushing."

I snorted. "I'm not," I whispered as I nudged him back.

We chuckled and we saw Hoseok taking out a check. "10,000 bucks here you go..."

We watched him write in the check. I felt myself pretty much excited as I watched him write those zeros.

10,000 bucks...

Those words echoed in my head.

10,000 bucks...?

Ten thousa— BUCKS??

It replayed in my head over and over again.

10 bucks... Was he... that guy..?

Jimin saw my frown and nudged me again. I didn't realize Hoseok was handing me the check. I chuckled nervously and took it from his hands.

"Sorry, I'm just sleep deprived lately..."

"It's okay, anyways thanks again. I gotta leave, I have something to attend to." Hoseok smiled and waved at us. He head back to his car and waved a goodbye again.

"Let's go home and you get some sleep." Jimin instructed me as we went to his car.

Here we go again, sitting across him in his clinic, but feeling more nervous as I was used to be.

It is my only third appointment with him. As usual, he's laid back and smiling at me.

I broke off the silence first. "To be honest... I'm here to..." I gulped. His eyes looking so deeply in mine. I felt all my nerves dance out of nervousness. I took a deep breath.

I can do this. Just say it, and everything will be done.

"I'm here to..." cancel the rest of my appointments so this is the last time you'll see me here. I calmed my nerves first before finishing my sentence. "to postpone the rest of my appointments." I spit out so fast.

It wasn't really what I wanted to say. But how can I say NO to that face.

My heartbeat quickened at the sight of his confusion. His lips slightly pouting while his head is tilted.

"Oh... I think we can settle that. Any particular reasons why?"

Because, first and foremost, YOU. Do you know how hard it is to talk and open up the darkest and deepest shits I hid?? I couldn't even show off myself to you cause you'll probably mentally assess me! Also, do you know how hard it is to hide this to Jimin?? For sure, sooner or later he'll find out! I don't even know why some journalists are interested with my stuff! That's it! That's why I want to quit this sessions.

I want to scream those stuffs. Let it all out.

But he doesn't even deserve it. He's clueless, just I want him to be.

"I..uh... I got lots of deals, so I don't think my busy schedule will allow it."

Wow, this is all you could come up with, Jeon Y/n??

Yoongi nodded and smiled. "It's fine, we'll just rescheduled. And hey, we're neighbors, if you want to talk to me, just ring the bell. If you want me to cook and have some chitchat..."

"just ring the bell. Thank you, Doc Min." I smiled, feeling less anxious.

This felt way better than I thought it'd be. He always reassures me with any stuff.

Well, it's his job, Y/n. You're not someone special to him.

I had to remind myself that before I lose my shits.

"Let's make the best of our time now, shall we? Let me help you, Y/n," Yoongi smiled at me.

His words are so light yet it made my heart felt something heavy.

Maybe. Maybe I should free my thoughts. Let him in. Even if just because he's my doctor.

"To be honest, I have something to tell you too." I tensed once again when I was about to bring up the topic.

Yoongi's ears perked up, observing me, ready to listen to whatever I'm about to talk. I looked down at my hands, not able to look at him. My nervousness and embarrassment flood me. Yet, I still managed to talk. Talk about something I should've done days ago if I only didn't felt the embarrassment creeping in knowing he's my doctor. Thoughts that I hid for myself—only to realize I was drowning with it, nightmares that kept me awake for years, and happenings that I never thought I would encounter.

I didn't wait for him to respond and spoke again.

"Months ago, I was accused for plagiarism. It's not like it was new or anything, it's just..." I paused, releasing a heavy breath. "It was different. I already have the position of a known artist despite of keeping a low profile. They accused me for something I didn't do. The client's demand at that time was high. It pretty much surprised me that none of my clients pulled off even after hearing the rumors."

I chuckled even though there was nothing funny on what I said.

"The journalists went after me, they were bombarding me with questions, harassing me every time I set a foot outside my house. Heck—I even had to live with my family's house again. It was... horrifying," I continued, I felt my emotions slowly building up—ready to burst everything that I used to keep. "My mother and I aren't really in a good term. I'm a constant reminder of why her beloved died..." A single tear fell on my cheeks, yet I didn't bother to wipe it off.

"Then it happened. One time when the journalists saw me on the road, I was exhausted at that time. I just went out to buy a juice since we ran out. I haven't get a single sleep at that time since. Regardless of the issue that was happening, I had to finish some artworks." I let out a shaky breath and I felt his hands pat my back.

I met his eyes, in contrast of my probably red and teary eyes, his are full of concerned and sympathy. Like he understands me. There was no hint of pity, only understanding.

I looked down again and continued, "I was running and while crossing the road, a truck was about to hit me." I paused, looking at him once again, letting out a bitter chuckle. "You know what's funny? I just stand there. Watched the truck. And before I know it, I fainted. The truck didn't hit me, it stopped just right before it hit me. The doctor said I fainted due to my exhaustion and stressed."

I dropped my head, observing my overly used hands as I silently cried. There was a long silence before I spoke again, "While watching the truck to hit me, that day replayed over and over in my head. I think even when I fainted that's all I could think. I heard my mother's cry, my father laying there—lifeless... The ambulance sirens were too loud to my liking. Then you..." I turned my head and I was met by his gaze once again.

His brows twitched. I could tell that he was surprised hearing what I just said.

I smiled at him. It was bittersweet and my cheeks were drenched with my tears. "Before, I thought of how you keep proving me wrong... But that day were different. You were wrong. Not everything will be okay. Nothing in me is okay..." I said, my voice were quite shaky.

His hand cupped my cheek, wiping off the tears for me. I felt myself leaning in to his touch. "I'm sorry, Y/n..." Yoongi's voice shaked. It was deep and barely a whisper. He's like whispering a forbidden promise to me.

Both of us knew this is not professional. And it's dangerous. Especially for him, since he can't let his emotions overshadow his purpose of work. For once, I couldn't care less that someone sees me in my most vulnerable state. For once, all I could ever think is myself. Slowly, I felt myself attached onto something I shouldn't.

Yoongi then pulled gently his hand away. He gave me a tissue to clean up myself. I took it—faced my back to him and blew my nose. It was awkward. I mean, the moment was already ruined when he pulled away so why bother to care?

I wiped my nose as I chuckled awkwardly.

"Thank you for letting me in, Y/n. I know how hard it must be for you to open up." Yoongi smiled and gently wiped my cheeks with a tissue.

Spring 2011

"Fuck-" I panted while I ran the hallway to the outside of the school. I bumped into the other students, constantly apologizing as I do so. With my watch, I checked the time and run faster.

"N-no no no NO...AH-!"

A kid not older than 8 tripped me, making me fall to the ground. My face fell on the cemented floor while the kid just chuckled. Realizing what happened, I groaned as I watched the bus drive away.

"Pabo." (Idiot). The kid snickered and I felt a pair of arms helped me to get up. I was glaring at the kid too much before I realized who helped me.

I'm gonna give this kid some beating. I scoffed while he just stick his tongue out.

"Uh, sorry... Yoonjae is really..."

Still annoyed with the kid, I didn't bother to look at the guy. He nudged his arms so the kid will apologize. The kid didn't even show any remorse. Then the guy went in front and made the kid bow and so does he.

My eyes went wide when I saw Yoongi.

"I'm sorry pfft." The kid mumbled and Yoongi flicked his forehead. "I didn't mean to, I didn't know that you were such a loser to fall like that," he laughed and Yoongi nudged him again. "You're just too ugly, I can't-" he then pointed my face.

I touched my face—feeling conscious about it. I felt a sting in my cheek the time I touched it. There was some few cut and scratches since I fell.

Not caring about it, I looked at my watch. A bubble of tears formed in my eyes.

I can't miss it.

Jungkook has a performance in their school and he asked me to be there. Knowing that our parents wouldn't bother to go since they're at work, I'm the only one he can rely on coming. My heart sank at the image of Jungkook being disappointed in me.

The kid seemed to notice my reaction. His earlier grin were wiped off.

"N-noona... I'm sorry okay? I- uh-" Then the kid hugged me. Tears flowed down. "Don't cry. I already said sorry, why are you crying? Does it hurt that much?" He huffed and only hugged me tighter. His words are so different with his actions.

It felt like I'm talking to younger Jungkook. I felt a tight knot in my chest. Some students start to look at us—eyeing the situation we're in.

Then I felt another pair of arms around me. He wasn't totally hugging, since he barely touches me. I planted my face on his chest and let out a quiet sob.

"You're such a mess..." Yoongi mumbled. "I'm only doing this to cover your crying face. Nothing else. Don't think I have any malicious intent."

The kid then pulled out from the hug. He must've felt suffocated since he's in between.

"Hyung, is she your girlfriend?"

By the time I heard him, I pulled away. "I-i'm not."

It's better that I'm the one who took that thought down. It felt better this way because if he's the one who said no, I'd feel like as if he just rejected me when I haven't even get to confessed yet.

Yoongi's clothe were slightly drenched because of my tears. I smiled at him awkwardly and apologized. He then told me that Yoonjae is his cousin and was on his way when he saw him tripped me.

"Oh- Eomma!"

"Yoonjae! Where have you been? Didn't I told you to say there??" His mom ran towards him—giving him lectures as she should.

"Don't worry, eomma, I'm with hyung." He snickered and pointed at Yoongi. His mom smiled and thanked Yoongi.

"We gotta go now, tell your mom I said hi." The older woman smiled and Yoonjae waved at us and bid a goodbye.

I sighed. Looking at the time once again, I knew I wouldn't make it.

"It would take another 30 minutes for another bus..." I mumbled. I wiped off some dirt on my face and hissed when I touched the cut.

"Let me clean it."

"Hm?" I was too deep in my thought on how I'll get there or how I'll look at my brother with disappointment painted on his face.

"You heard me."

We sat on the bench and he took out some stuffs. A band-aid that has a cute cat design, a cotton pad and a water bottle.

I giggled as soon as I saw the bandage.

"My friend bought it, not me..." He said as he took the cotton pad and wet it with water.

Whatever you say, cat lover boy.

Yoongi started dabbing the wet pad to my face, cleaning the surface first. Then he started dabbing on the cut which made me hiss.

"A-ah..! Be gentle." I mumbled.

He suppressed his grin and started dabbing on it again, this time, way more gentle. He finished on treating me by putting the band-aid on my wound.

"Make sure you clean it again when you get home." He smiled slightly as he put his stuffs back again in his bag. He was readying himself to ride on his bike. He always go to school through his bike, unlike me, who has to be always on time so I won't miss the bus.

Suddenly, my phone rang. The number was unknown but regardless, I answered it.

"Noona! Where are you? Just 3 more participants and I'll start." Jungkook whined through the phone.

I felt helpless.

Jungkook's been practicing for this—even asking me for some constructive criticism. I also promised that we'll eat on his favorite diner after it. My heart dropped when I heard his voice. Then an idea came up to me that I know I will regret soon.

"Kook, just give me 10 minutes. I'll be there. Promise." Before he can even answer, I hung up.

I turned my attention to Yoongi who was about to go.

"Uh... can you do me a favor? Just this once. Please?" I pleaded, ready to kneel if I have to. "Just take me to my brother's school. He's expecting me to be there. He has a performance and I don't wanna miss it. I really reaalllyyyy have to go. Please?" I clasped my hand and looked up at him. Big does eyes pleading and hoping he would agree.

Yoongi, without a second thought, nodded. I sat on the back of his bike and I just hoped, I'm not that heavy for him. I told him the school and he started to pedal fast.

I'm not really used to riding bikes, so I clutched a small part of his clothe tightly. I couldn't hold him on his waist or something like in those dramas I've watched. Especially since I wouldn't want him to think I'm taking an advantage of him. I still have pride and boundaries.

When we reached the school, he parked his bike. We ran towards the auditorium but soon, I felt my knees go weak. Then I felt a hand hold mine. Yoongi dragged me with him as he ran faster. Our hands were intertwined and for a second, it does look like a scenery from a drama. The moment seemed to slow down and my focus went to our intertwined hands. Forgetting for a moment on why we were running. I just ran. I matched my pace with him and we ran together.

Once we reached the auditorium, a teacher greeted us, "You must be Jungkook's sister." She smiled and let us in.

I panted as I nodded in response. Not even realizing we're still holding hands, we walked inside.

"Jungkook's in the backstage. He reserved a seat for you," she paused and looked at me again. "He reserved three seats, will another one come?"

Three seats?

I looked at the middle row, there was three empty seats. My shoulders dropped after realizing why he asked for three seats.

He also wants them to come. He hopes that they'll come.

I unconsciously gripped Yoongi's hand a little tighter. Feeling a burning rage as the thought of our parents who couldn't even bother to give us their time.

I thanked the teacher and we went to our seats. We sat, the earlier sweat slightly dried off.

I looked at Yoongi beside me, feeling apologetic for asking him a favor. We aren't close at all. Even more like a stranger except for the few times that we coincidentally meet.

Worse—he's my senior.

What would people think if they saw us? A senior and junior hanging out together?

He'll be a laughingstock.

People would think different.

It's not just about our age gap, but our age. He's legally an adult now while I'm still a minor.

What am I even thinking? It's not like we're really hanging out or dating...

I shook off my thoughts and smiled at him awkwardly. "You gonna watch my brother too?"

"Not like I have a choice" He subtly smirked and raised our intertwined hands to my face.

I gasped and pulled my hand away. Mumbling a sorry, I turned my attention to the stage.

Jungkook get on the stage and smiled as soon as he saw me. I smiled back and waved at him.

"Fighting!" I mouthed and silently cheered at him.

The music started. It was slow and soulful.

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust"Jungkook sang the first two lines. The crowd went awe right away.

Still head straight towards the stage, my eyes peeked at my side. Yoongi was watching my brother with a smile. He must've liked his voice too—as he should!

The song continued and the crowds raised their arms and swayed gently. It was a great sight to see, seeing my brother get all the praise as he sang.

"Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?)

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean

Now I wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours"

I smiled as I watched him. He looks astonishing while he's doing what he loves. Being in an asian household, means we have to be great academically. Be a doctor, engineer, accountant—anything that will give us a "secured" future. It also means that any passion or talent that has nothing to do with it will be forgotten. Or at least if we wanna do those stuff, we're obliged to be great at it. No space for any disappointments and failures.

"wanna be yours

wanna be yours

wanna be yours," he sang continuously.

Those lines made my attention drift back to the man beside me. With Jungkook's angelic voice on the background and Yoongi being beside me—his eyes glistening as my brother's figure reflects on it.

Once again, it felt like in the movies.

He noticed my gaze towards him which made him look back. Yoongi smiled at me. It was soft—the type where you'll feel your heart melt. Now, all I see is my reflection in his eyes. I smiled at him for a few second and pulled away first in the staring contest.

I wonder in the future when I'm older enough, will he be mine?

Though I already tear my gaze away from him, I felt his eyes lingered on me for a few more seconds.

Jungkook's performance ended and everyone clapped at him.

Being the big sister, I felt immensely proud for him.

After the rest of the program, Jungkook ran over and gave me a quick hug.

"Noona!" He beamed me that cute bunny smile of his.

People say he's the boy version of me but I prefer to differ. Jungkook is more than that. He's way better, nicer and cuter. He's my human plushie.

"Look—I won," Jungkook giggled and showed me the certificate and trophy.

This is what must've parents felt like. So proud to the point of tearing up. Not our parents though, because no matter how hard we try, we're just never enough.

I patted Jungkook's head. He's getting taller than me day by day. I couldn't imagine him breaking girls heart once he start in high school. Too fast. Too fast...

"Whoa... looks like I really have to treat you something, huh?" I smirked and watched him with overjoy.

But his smile soon faded when he noticed someone behind me.

"Noona... did you practiced some black magic?"

I frowned when he asked that—not sure where this conversation leading to.

"How come you're with a guy who's good-looking?"

I scoffed as I heard that. "Yah- Jungko-"

Jungkook turned his attention to Yoongi, "Hyung, did she blackmail you or made you eat something? Are you really her boyfrie-"

He didn't even get to finish his words before I smacked him.

"H-he's not. Okay??" I said firmly. My whole face heating up as I felt embarrassed once again.

Jungkook grinned. "Figures."

I glared at him.

Then why even bother asking, you pig

It's the second time I turned that thought down. I'm starting to worry if Yoongi feels like I'm some sort of disgusted of him.

But then again, we're not that close for him to feel that way. I'm pretty sure, a lot of pretty girls are gushing around him.

"I wouldn't date a kid," Yoongi chimed in. His respond were unexpected, especially since he huffed right after it.

"I'm just two years younger..." I said in my defense.

"Still a kid," He let out a soft chuckle. He must've realized his effect on me, now his ego are way up in heaven.

It's been weeks since my last appointment to him. I busied myself on working on some of the artworks I have to finish. Ever since that time when Yoongi invited me to his house to eat, it became our thing. It almost felt like he's looking out for me, making sure I eat and not overworking myself. But maybe it's just all my delusions. There are also times where I invite him over instead, feeling guilty on how he's always the one to invite me. We cooked, eat, chitchat, sometimes watch a movie. I felt... closer to him. Although, it's not everyday of course, just on some few occasions.

Tonight, my friends will come over to my house. We're having our annual sleepover.

After I left to go to America, I missed my friends here in Korea. That's why when I came back, I made sure to reconnect with them again. Not that I completely lost my connection with them during my stay in States since we also send each other's message at times. But this is different. Having their presence beside me is different.

For every year, our sleepover has a theme. This time, we chose something more... matured.

We should wear the most slutty outfit we have. Our skin doesn't have to be exposed. What we meant by dressing like that—is to dress sexily. Like it screams aura. Like when men see us, they'll kneel and ask for forgiveness.

As if we'll let them see us.

We thought it was kind of too much, but then realized, there's no way we'll be able to wear it outside. But we still want to be confident in our body, besides, it's just the three of us who'll be in the house.

For tonight, I wore a red night dress that suits with my ruby necklace and earrings. The nightgown falls delicately to my toes and the middle (stomach) part is see through. It was three-fourth made of silk which made it feel nice and comfortable. The bust part has some tiny black roses as on the low v line. My breasts looks perky since the upper part of the nightgown fits my curve perfectly. Showing my cleavage way better.

I curled my hair to have some soft wave and put some dark feminine makeup that I've watched in xiaohongshu.

Regardless of my makeup, I still look...cute(?) My does eyes and chubby cheeks didn't help at all.

"Maybe I did my makeup wrong... I just look like a teen who just discovered what being emo is."

It's not that my makeup is bad, it's just different from my reference. I look beautiful enough, anyways. Every human is beautiful, some were just blind to see.

As I was finishing up my hair and makeup, the doorbell rang. I excitedly went towards the door with a red wine in my hand to be fully in character.

I leaned on the door frame and smirked. Wine in my hand, the other opened the door.

"You're here." I uttered as I took a sip of my wine. Still in character, I looked at them.

Oh no...

It's not a them—it's a he.

I almost drop the wine glass when I saw Yoongi standing in front of me. He was holding his laptop as he tried to look away.

"I uh..." He gulped, his face had a light tint of pink. "My wifi won't work so I was.. uh- I just have to send a file and it's urgent so I uh..."

He started stuttering the more the seconds pass. Yoongi's wearing glasses and a white shirt that pairs with his black pants.

He looks like a nerd virgin who just saw a hottie...

I smirked at the thought of having an effect on him.

"Sure. I don't think they'll be here for a while. You just have to send it, right?"

Yoongi nodded and I let him. Feeling the cockiness take over me, I watched him work with his laptop. Not even caring the fact that I'm wearing a lingerie—but longer. More covered. More mystery that only mind can give you the satisfactory on what could be in there.

Not even a minute after, we heard a car came. Soon after, I heard my friend's loud mouths.

"FBI open up!"

They giggled while Yoongi and I just stared at each other with full horror painted on our face.

I took his hand and dragged him to the studio. "Sorry, but they can't see you."

We went inside of the studio and I face him again. "You can do the rest of your work here since you have no wifi, right? Feel at home."

I chuckled awkwardly and before he can even protest, I left him inside and went towards the front door.

I took a deep breath and opened it. "Hey..!"

"Girl, what took you so long??" Sana let out an exasperated sigh and plopped down on the couch.

"We brought chicken and pizza. You got the lasagna and beer, right? We also bought wine, just in case." Chaeyoung came in and plopped down on the couch too.

I couldn't even respond to them without stuttering or chuckling nervously, so I decided to shut my mouth for a while.

"By the way, our fits are so pretty!"

"So slutty..."

We all laughed at our own stupidness.

"Didn't know that you're the type to dress up as the rich and about to kill her husband, Y/n," Sana teased.

"Yeah, you look you're about to murder your useless husband. Screams elegance!!"

We giggled once again.

They told me where they bought their dresses and the chaos that they have to go through to dress up. Sana is wearing a pink tight backless dress with glitters on it while Chaeyoung is wearing a black top that only covers her chest and the rest is strings and a mini skirt.

I can't keep being quiet or else they'll find it weird.

"So tell me, Y/n. What happened with Neko? Already wrapped your hands around him?" Chaeyoung teased as she drank her wine while Sana made an 'oohh' sound.

I lightly smacked Chaeyoung's arms. Worry was painted all over my face. He could've heard her even though the studio isn't that close. But still, with their loud voices? Yoongi will sure hear them.

"Come on, girl. He's on the other side. Way far from us, he won't hear." Sana said.

"She's right, so tell us. What it feels like being around him?" Chaeyoung waited for my answer.

Ever since I met Yoongi again, I told them about it, not saying the part where he's my psychologist. I just told them we ran on each other.

"Well, it's...fine? I don't know! What should I feel about it?"

Chaeyoung groaned and leaned back on the couch. "Hmm... your crush and muse literally became your neighbor after ten years of not meeting him and you guys eat together at times, even had a movie night, right?"

"Yeah... well, those are..." I paused, thinking of a better answer. "We're neighbors, that's all."

Both of the chuckled and just went with it. They knew the question is messing up with my head and they don't wanna ruin the night.

"But... one last question," Sana uttered as she took out the pizza. "You're so head over heels for him, why did you never confessed?"

It was a rather genuine question, no hints of playfulness.

It didn't took me a second to answer as I already knew the answer for years.

"Because, in those times, I only knew him on the surface level. Just liked the thought of him. I preferred to just like him from a far. All I know about him at that time, is that he's handsome and nice. I didn't think it's a good reason enough to date someone. Also, we were young and didn't have much time." I shrugged, taking a piece of chicken to my mouth.

"But what about now? You both are working adults, spends time with each other...even if it's just as neighbors, what do you think?"

Chaeyoung's right. Everything is different now. We grew up, had our own experiences, and everything just changed.

"I just can't bring myself to confess. That's something I'll never do." I crossed my arms to my chest and stand by my opinion.

"For someone who's head over heels on a guy, you sure have a pride." Sana chuckled and I did the same.

"So... does that means... you still like him?" Chaeyoung teased, poking my sides as she wiggled her brows.

"Too bad, I already answered the last question. No more questions. Why are you even guys too deep in my love life? Even my sexual life!" I playfully whined as I took a sip of the wine.

"Because in the three of us, you're bitchless and virgin," Chaeyoung laughed.

"What about your manager? He's hot." Sana said.

"Whoa... you guys won't even let him slide," I groaned and laid down on the couch.

"Aren't you the one who like to romanticize everything in life?" Sana sassed and Chaeyoung agreed. They even high-fived.

"Because I'm too professional and it'll be weird. There are some relationships that are still special even if it's platonic." I replied in my defense.

The thought of dating Jimin isn't really bad, but if our relationship ever go down, I wouldn't just lose a boyfriend, but a great friend and manager. He's someone I can't lose.

The night went on and we sang, danced and drank our hearts out. Even almost forgetting Yoongi till I received a text message from him.

"Hey, sorry to disturb but it's already midnight and I have to go."

Shit. He must be sleepy.

I'm pretty tipsy after a few drinks I had. I took the robe that pairs with my nightgown. I walked towards the studio and went inside. I saw Yoongi sitting on the couch with his laptop on. He's watching a cat rescue video.

I chuckled, "You sure are a cat."

He turned his attention to me and relaxed as soon as he saw that I'm covered. I smirked, the alcohol was slowly taking over me. My confidence and ego is higher than ever.

"Can I..." Yoongi stood up and tried to find his words.

"Go home now?" I grinned and walked closer to him.

He nodded. "I have to go cause-"

I cut him off by gently pushing him down on the couch. He seems to be caught off guard by my action as his eyes widened. I took his glasses and wore it.

"If I'm being slutty then what are you? Wearing this glasses and white shirt? Ugh, you're insufferable."

Leaning down, my arms on the side of his head—trapping him. My robe was lose so when I leaned down, his view must've been great.

Surprisingly, he just stayed in that position.

I leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "I'm not a kid anymore, am I?" I made my voice way more seductive than I wanted it to be. My head slowly became clouded.

I turned to face Yoongi, my eyes met his.

I slowly traced his cheek down to his jaw, my touch was subtle, enough to torture him. I saw his adam's apple bobbed at the feeling of my touch.

With his eyes closed, he spoke, "You're drunk."

Ignoring his words, I leaned closer— our lips almost touched.

"Am I starting to have an effect on you, Min Yoongi?" I chuckled and lingered our closeness for a moment before pulling back.

part 5 read here^^

A/N: ayooo let's just pretend that I wanna be yours was already released in that year>< Also... UGH YOONGI in IN THE SOOP WHERE HE WEARS THAT??? LIKE FHKSHFKSJHFKS but with glasses:p

Taglist: @choijay-07 @sanarin @yooforeaa @this-most-assuredly-counts @minniejim @amarawayne

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gassyandnasty · 8 months ago

Text

The Jock Formula 2.1 - Living with JongHo

Sorry for the long wait, guys. Finally, the chapter I promised with the Jock you chose in the poll is here.

_________________________________________

Dohyun's POV

Being a nerd in this campus in a complete hell. We get constantly harassed by Josh and his gang, and everything got even worse when my friend George invented the "Jock Formula".

It was supposed to save us, but Andrew got everything for him and now is joining this hell of a frat. It can be sad for the rest of our friend group, but for me it's worse, as it has always been.

I'm JongHo's twin brother. Yes, that big and burly guy actually has a nerdy relative that he is quite ashamed of. We were supposed to be the same, but I was never inclined to sports, and those gross eating competitions, so while he kept growing, I stayed the same.

My place isn't in this frat at all, but our strict parents didn't want us living apart on college so Jongho only moved to the frat with the condition that I went together. And I've been unhappy since.

They treat me like a maid. I have to wake up earlier to cook breakfast for them, clean ALL of their mess. And it's a hell of a mess. Apart from the dirty and cruel pranks that they pull on me constantly. On top of all that, I have to endure my big and brainless brother everyday, since we share the same room.

They are having a hazing ceremony today, I won't even go downstairs to say anything to that traitor, but I can hear the loudest burps and farts ever, and all kinds of noise those meatheads produce. Happily, those ceremonies take a lot, so I'm having crumbs of peace this night.

I put my headphones on and put some ASMR to muffle the outside noise. I feel I can sleep like an angel without him here, so when I close my eyes, I loose no time in getting asleep.

Unconsciously, the peaceful time is feeling oddly long, when It's interrupted by a loud thud in the door, followed by it's opening:

"Think I missed the handle again haha damn, tonight was fun."

It was Jongho. Peace ended. He can't even come in the room quietly in the middle of the night. I heard him opening the fridge and grab a bottle of something.

"Ugh, so thirsty..." loud gulps followed by heavy steps. "You there?" I can FEEL his massive frame over me, maybe if I keep pretending that I'm asleep, he leaves me alone.

"Wake up, princess." He says, poking my face with his heavy finger, but I won't budge. I hear his stomach rumbling as he states "Gosh, I'm so full... I know what will wake you up."

With that, I fell his heavy weight smothering my head. I know this feeling too well, his huge and sweaty cheeks mold all around my face, while he adjusts himself to get his crack right above my nose. Im cooked.

"Shouldn't have eaten that many hot-dogs... HNNNGG" I feel him straining and forcing out a a fart.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

It slapped like a punch on my face, as it stink intoxicated my senses, while the explosive noise overpowered my ears. It was long, loud and deep, not losing power once, while it rumbled all over my face.

*COUGH* MMPHMMPPBMM *COUGH*

I tried to scream and got muffled by his massive ass. And the taste of his fart invading my mouth after was demonic. He started to rub his butt on my face as I felt him laughing above me.

"Hahaha that can waken the dead, right?" He dumbly stated, almost killing me. I managed to push him over my face, making him land on my chest. Suffocating me all the same.

"What do you want, you JERK?" I ask with the remaining force I have, while he grins and sniffs his own fart.

"Damn, that was a monster, happy that wasn't on my face haha" he thumped on his full belly. "Ate so much this night, only your friend Drew could beat me, you know? He is part of the group now, loser."

"Don't mention that TRAITOR near me. I don't want to hear about Andrew, may he gags on his own gas." I curse him. It boils my blood to know that a guy I called friend is now joining my biggest enemies.

"I don't know about Drew, but you're gagging on this..." Jongho scooted a little to the side, bending his ass towards me, and forced out another fart:

FRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFTFTFRFTFTTTTTTTT

I gagged.

"Hahahaha, I can't wait for the new pranks we are going to pull on you, loser. Now, I gotta sleep" Jongho got up and I finally felt the relief of his weight leaving my chest. But I didn't see him going to the bathroom to change or shower. He is stinking of beer and hot sauce.

"Aren't you missing something? Are you gonna sleep reeking like this?" I ask, trying to save work for me tomorrow, if he changes, I don't have to wash the sheets.

He looks at me with an uncomfortable face, aa he brings his head to his stomach, I hear it rumbling when he answers: "Yeah... I think I'm missing something..." he gives his belly a strong push and bend his face over mine, opening his mouth wide, letting it all rip:

gOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOODDDDDD-NNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPPPPPPP

As he answers me with an ungodly belch, that covers my face with saliva, bits of food and a sickly smell of soda and sausage. He grins as he jumps on his bed and I turn light headed, passing out.

_________________________________________

I wake up feeling sick in the day after. Gosh, I hate them so much. Our room is still stinking, and I'm tired just to think of how much cleaning work I have to do as they messed everything up on that hazing.

I turn to my side and Jongho's bed is empty. Bad sign. He NEVER wakes up early, that can only mean that I'm... late.

I fear for my life.

I get ready fast and go downstairs, maybe I can make up for the time lost, and the first thing I see when I arrive at the kitchen the scene I see is terrifying.

Empty plates all over, with Jongho, Josh, Sal and Andrew sat at the table, looking at me.

"Forgot about breakfast today?" Josh asks, not giving me a good morning even.

"I-I..." I was about to say, when Sal added: "So we had to do it for ourselves..."

Gosh I'm so screwed...

"But no worries, you didn't cook us breakfast, but we will give yours. Sit" Jongho said. I wanted to run but there was no escape. The only place left was between my brother and Andrew, they already wanted to tease me.

As I sat, Andrew said: "Morning, loser." Putting his arm around me, his pits were already stinking.

"I have a name and you know that, Andrew. How could you?" My blood boiled.

"I have a name and it is Drew now. I can address you by how I want though, whimp." The boys laughed at his response and I gritted my teeth.

I was hungry cause I didnt have dinner yesterday. The hazing kept everything busy so I only had some snacks, my stomach rumbled, making them laugh.

"Hahaha, he is hungry guys, why don't we give him his meal already?" Josh commands.

"I will begin with the appetizer" "Drew" says. Gosh I hate to even think calling him that.

"Open your mouth." He says.

"No way! I'm not doing that!" As I thought of getting up, Josh held me, and Drew pinched my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.

"Now we get it haha eat that!" He starts to swallow air and get close, very close. As my open mouth is in line with his, he rips a nasty belch in it, making me taste what he had for breakfast

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!! *phwooooshhh*

He even blows afterwards, making me teary eyed.

They all high five and laugh, as I see Sal getting in front of me next.

"Now for the entreé, baked beans with a pinch of..." Sal turned around and bent over, displaying his huge bubbly ass on my face. I felt his hand grabbing the back of my head, making me land with my open mouth right in front of his crack. "...my stink... HNNGG"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTFTTFTTTTFTFTFTFTTTTTT

And it stunk to high heavens. All of their gas is potent, but Sal's has twisted smell, making the worse. And I had to swallow.

As I gagged, the guys laughed about him making me eat his fart. I felt some movement, and now Jongho is holding me while Josh got in front of me.

"Let me see if I got your order right, you wanted a double... UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP" He added with a nauseating belch on my face. As I didn't have time to process this, I saw him turning around and lifting his leg:

"With a side of... FRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRTRRRRRRRTRTRTTTTT!!"

They couldn't contain themselves with so much laughing at his stupid joke. At least, it's finished... they got "my order".

"What a restaurant will he think this is?" I hear Jongho say behind me. "If we don't give his dessert?" That got the guys expecting something. In a swift move, he let go of the hold on me and pressed his ass on my face, pinning me against the chair.

"A full cake, as you ordered, sir" Jongho said, rubbing his colossal ass on my face. I could hear some flashes now, bet they are recording it.

I heard him grunt, and it happened:

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT!!

A powerful and huge fart rumbled my face, and went straight down my throat. I could taste the twisted flavour of his breakfast as he filled me with his gas.

"Aaaaahhh, bon appetit!" Jongho sighs in relief, high-fiving his friends. They leave the room as I'm too weak to stand up.

Uuurrpp- I burp as some of their gas come back.

I hate my life.

#male farts #jock #thejockformula #dumbing down #male burp #muscles #frat bro

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demonslayerunhinged · 8 months ago

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Unhinged rant >:(

Demon Slayer fandom discourse

I want to start this by saying, I know that Demon Slayer isn't an explicitly queer manga/anime because Shōnen Jump, but I believe that Demon Slayer is for the queers and has lots of themes that we can identify with like love, acceptance, loss, guilt and strength.

Despite what these stupid, smelly, ignorant, power-scaling, non-ass-washing, Cheetos-dust-snorting, once-a-month-showering, dude-bros would have you believe, Demon Slayer isn't just another battle Shōnen anime/manga, it's a love story and about the perseverance of the human spirit and if that doesn't speak to the queer experience then I don't know what does.

Plus, I don't know how Gotogue-sensei is as a person, but I think the fact that she managed to make one of the kindest mcs in shōnen speaks volumes about her disposition. I don't think she would be one to reject queer fans identifying with her story so well.

In these recent times, it seems like everything is going to shit, the world is slowly regressing into the dark ages destroying decades of progress and trying to distract ourselves from all this by engaging with the fandoms we love is hard because everything seems to cater to cis, straight, white men.

To be honest, I created this blog mostly out of spite, but I also wanted to carve out a tiny space for myself where I can talk out of my ass and not have some decrepit reddit dude bro go all 'well, ackshually ☝🤓' on me, and I'm happy to have met so many like-minded people.

So, I've compiled a list of answers to the common types of nonsense drivel these fuckers post in response to shipping and queer discussions and theories about Demon Slayer. You can copy and paste whenever and wherever you encounter these black holes of ignorance and stupidity if you want.

In the Taisho era, there were no gay/queer people: This is one of the dumbest statements I've ever heard, and the fact that it's a really common response really shows how we've failed as a society. Queer people have existed for ages all over the world, Japan has an extensive queer history. Demon Slayer is based on samurai culture and samurai culture was really, really, really, really, really, really, really gay. Sure, it had rigid roles, but that doesn't make it any less queer. A quick Google search would go a long way to nourish that dried-out, shrivelled husk you call a brain. Go read a book you walking condom ad, your parents and education system have obviously failed you.

It's forcing sexuality into the story: We literally had a whole season dedicated to the mcs going to the 'entertainment district', we have a sexy man with three wives who talks about 'loving' them all equally, we have the abundant male fanservice, one of the mcs talks about women on the daily, we have a boy who eats demons and is horny shy around girls all the time, we have his brother who exposes his tits because he's proud of them, we have a demon who was essentially a sexual predator that targeted 16-year-old girls and ate them, the main villain shape-shifts into a woman to 'get' information as a Geisha, we have a girl who literally lusts after almost everyone she meets but yea no lets not force sexuality into it 🙄.

I don't care: Okay cool, but I value your opinion as much as I value the shit I took this morning.

It's who they are as a character that matters: Sexuality is a part of a person's character. Your sexuality defines your experiences, decisions, options and outlook on life. That's why you as a straight man can be so ignorant.

It's forced*(I really hate this one): Honestly, fuck you. Why is it that you only think something is forced when it doesn't revolve around you and your experiences? You guys are fine with tons of anime/manga that sexualize women and girls to an insane degree even when it doesn't make sense, but that doesn't stop you from consuming and glazing the hell out of the authors, but when we talk about including queer characters suddenly it's forced? Your existence is forced, and you can just eat shit.

I don't like it: Who the fuck do you think you are dictating how other people consume and interpret the media they consume? How about you go hump your smelly, cum-encrusted anime body pillow.

Men can be touchy/emotional with each other without it being gay, it's just our western standards: No it isn't the majority of shipping activities and works come from Japan, which wouldn't happen if it was just part of their culture. We're not stupid, we know men and boys can be friends without it being sexual, and we know when a friendship is just that, and then we know when two guys are straight up pining for one another.

It's not canon/the mangaka didn't explicitly state it: They can't because of Shōnen Jump, so a lot of them pass off information about a character through subtext, metaphors and allegories. They also don't have to, things don't have to outright stated or 'canon' for them to make sense and if you need them to be so for you to understand or enjoy the story then a moment of silence for your head since it's without a brain.

It's not common: Despite Shōnen Jump, there are lots of mainstream anime/manga that have queer characters: One Punch Man, Hunter x Hunter, Dr. Stone, Windbreaker, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Naruto, Gintama, Dragon Ball Z, My Hero Academia, Fairy Tail, One Piece, Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Blue Period and that's not to talk of the ones with queer subtext like I dunno ALL Sports anime/manga to ever exist!

Why do you look for LGBTQ in everything?: It might be hard for straights to understand but growing up queer and looking for a connection causes us to develop what we call a gaydar that helps us identify characteristics, mannerisms, features and vibes from a person that screams 'ONE OF US! ONE OF US!'. It's only natural, and our gaydar doesn't suddenly turn off when we're consuming media, especially when it's media that we love and hold dear to our hearts. It doesn't matter if the mangaka inserted these characteristics intentionally or not, that doesn't stop us from picking up on them, and why should it?

Shipping is stupid: So is power-scaling, but that doesn't stop you assholes from making thousands of posts, creating YouTube channels and sharing content about it and cramming it down our throats. It's even worse because it's from grown-ass men.

The characters have no chemistry/they hate each other: A lot of queer ships have more chemistry, history, interactions, personality and development than a lot of 'canon' straight couples. It's literally a trope in media that all a man and a woman need to be in a relationship is to be in close proximity to each other, then their relationship goes on to be drier than salted crackers in silicone packets scattered in the Sahara desert. Well, I guess you can't blame the creators, you write what you know after all.

I know this is a lot and I know how angry I sound right now, but I'm so sick and so tired of all these guys who are as useful to the human race as pieces of freshly shat out dog turds that have been thrown in the grass by the sidewalk in a hot summer afternoon, who can't see past their lice-infested neck beards trying to make something as colorful, interesting, joyful and queer as anime and the fandoms fit their own boring, stupid and misogynistic worldview.

In Conclusion, Demon Slayer is amazing, horny* and unbelievably queer.

*I'm talking about the male fanservice btw :)

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starmada4546 · 2 months ago

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The Derailing Trump Train

This essay is by-and-large for people like me who regularly have to deal with conservative family members or coworkers or whatever godawful thing makes you have to put up with these kinds of people. If that's not you, the advice in this one probably isn't going to be very helpful, but you're welcome to stick around for the analysis, if you like.

As the veneer of moderate, respectable conservatism slips away, people are going to start getting their buyers remorse. I've already heard people discussing how they aren't fond of Trump's policy on Ukraine, or his tariffs, or how Elon Musk is slashing federal jobs and giving himself multibillion dollar contracts. Its... highly frustrating to say the least. When I hear a very conservative uncle talking about how Trump's promised tax cuts don't include him, it makes me want to scream "How the fuck can you possibly be so selfish?! You people have had almost a decade to realize this man is a serious contender for Worst Human Alive and the only time you can start caring is when it impacts you?!"It really hurts to see a man who has spent the last decade fanning the flames of fascism, destroying lives, spreading bigotry, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, only lose his supporters after he starts hurting them specifically.

For those unfamiliar, there's a meme on the internet that many people like to quote in these sorts of situations. It goes something like "'But I didn't think the leopards would eat my face!' sobs woman who voted for the leopards eating people's faces party."

Since the original incident that started this meme, Leopards Ate My Face has become a term that refers to conservatives who voted for a conservative politician who proceeded to do something to hurt them, usually because said conservative voter didn't bother to figure out what said politician actually stood for. It's a popular meme for good reason; it's cathartic to laugh at the comeuppance of others, right?

I generally speaking disagree. This sort of thing drives me absolutely up the wall. It's selfish people finally getting hurt by their own selfishness, but in a vast majority of cases, those selfish people still won't accept they were ever actually in the wrong. It's always that they were lied to, or that the circumstances changed, or some other bullshit excuse that serves the same rhetorical purpose: I can't possibly have been wrong, so something outside my control intervened. This is, of course, demonstrating a key feature of the conservative mindset, which is the fundamental lack of self accountability. If there was any acknowledgement that everything that was going to happen was well known in advance, that political scholars and economists and journalists were Screaming From The Fucking Rooftops that this was going to happen, they'd have to acknowledge that there were steps they could have taken to have not caused harm for themselves, because in the fundamental selfish narcissism of conservative thought, the only thing that is immutably morally wrong is anything that hurts me.

If there was any acknowledgement that they could have done five minutes of research to keep from committing the most egregious of moral sins, doing something against their own interests, they'd have to accept that they bear the responsibility for that. So it is always, always, someone else's fault. Any evidence they could have used is dismissed out of hand; the news stations are lying, the economists are profiteering hacks, and the political scholars are propagandists.

But go far enough down the train tracks, they start running out of people to blame. When they're far enough out from the election that the opinions and writings of the fourth estate don't matter to them anymore, the republicans control all three branches of government, and most of what vestiges of leftism still exist in the government are seemingly hellbent on being the most ineffectual, pathetic doormats in the history of opposition parties, the list from the center of the Venn Diagram of "People who I think have the power to screw me over" and "People who I hate," starts growing dangerously short for their cognitive dissonance. It may not often seem like it, but there is a limit to how far these people can stretch and distort their own reality.

This is where we see the step of most groups built on ideologies of hate, supremacy, and/or exploitation wherein the members of the group begin to turn on each other, or at the least to begin their own balkanization. Remember, the very last person they can blame for their woes is themselves. They will blame anyone and everyone else, including their Der Fuhrer before they go that far. If they start running out of people to blame, they find new ones.

(This also mirrors a key feature of fascism, where when an outgroup can no longer be reasonably blamed for the problems of a society due to their absence or lack of cultural relevance, and are replaced with new outgroups, thereby making the ingroup smaller and smaller, but I'm sure that's only a coincidence, wink wink nudge nudge.)

So, after analyzing the toxic narcissism inherent to this worldview, I'm gonna go ahead and proceed to light myself on fire with napalm by defending it.

Ok ok, I'm not actually going to defend it. But I am going to ask for it to be encouraged?

This behavior is absolutely fucking terrible, don't get me wrong, but it is also self destructive, at least as far as cohesive fascist movements go. When they start pointing the blame fingers at each other, that is the death knell for fascism. Fascism exists because it's an ideology of hate, but it proliferates because it doesn't market itself that way. It markets itself as a series of benefits for the average everyman, which are obtained through bigotry. When those benefits don't materialize, which they can't, because bigotry has never served anyone but those who already hold all the power, it creates resentment and distrust. This is usually where the fascists point at something else and say "Look, a minority!" but that strategy only works for so long before it becomes put-up or shut-up.

So believe me, when that conservative uncle complains about Trump's tax cuts and you just want to go ballistic, I understand that sucks. But I urge you, smile and nod. It's a low bar at this point, but he's taking a second to think about it. Maybe it isn't going to get him to take his head out of the Kool-Aid fountain, but resentment and distrust don't start a violent boil overnight. In fact, we don't need a violent boil. We don't necessarily need for these people to start voting for democrats, we just need them to decide they'd rather not bother heading to the polls on election day. A small simmer is enough.

Because eventually, when Trump strips enough of the iron off of the track, the train derails.

In the wise and seemingly eternal words of Sun Tzu, "Never interrupt your enemy while he is making a mistake."

#politics #us politics #democrats #republicans #usa #america #donald trump #elon musk #antifascist #american politics #trump administration #fuck trump

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vasyandii · 11 months ago

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Hello! I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your IHNMAIMS oc. I'm a OC x canon enthusiast and seeing a character so well written and adapted to the story as Vernon is makes me so excited!! Plus your art is literally amazing. I've been curious since you mentioned how Vernon cuts potions of her meal to give them to AM and how the food improved since AM got his body, what food/meals do Vernon and AM like/dislike/have as favourite? -for AM, at least from what he has tasted- Whether if it's because of the taste, flavour, etc.

Howdy Anon! Thank you so much for the kind words, I've been giddy since I got it a few days ago! I'm glad my OC x Canon content gets your stamp of Approval >:D!! 💞💞

VernonAM ��🖥️ Food Preferences

I think Vernon is careful in choosing the food she shares with AM because he will eat literally ANYTHING. She would try to eat things to torture herself with, extremely spicy foods, live insects, raw organs, etc. but then remember that she has to "Feed AM". So she opts out for something normal so his taste buds don't get fucked.

Or as normal as it can get, the food kind of has the uncanny valley effect as well. It looks normal and tastes normal, but she feels there's something a bit off about it (kind of like airplane food). So she often leaves criticism to the Chef™ (AM) or asks to cook instead.

Vernon isn't particularly picky when it comes to food, she'll eat it and clean her plate. She likes her food balanced, vegetables/meat with sauce and all that. If it tastes good, she'll eat it, y'know?

AM is more... difficult. Sure, he'll eat anything, but if it tastes really bad, it'll traumatize him and he'll refuse to eat it for a while.

His food has to not be touching, if it's mixed in all together beforehand he'll eat it. If there's sauce it shouldn't be close enough to where it can contaminate the food AM's eating because he WILL taste it, no matter how small the amount is. His utensils need to be a specific size, and the food HAS to be hot/warm. He needs to be able to see or know every ingredient in it.

It's observed that AM likes fried foods/anything crunchy because of how consistent they are in taste, texture, and flavour. So what ends up happening is Vernon will just include those foods into her meal, just to not eat it and have it on a little plate for him.

Vernon asks him why he can't just make food for himself, his response is "I don't need to eat, I eat when when you eat."

But honestly it's a pretty dumb question now that she's looking back on it. AM has all the knowledge in the world about food, everything ever made, everything he's never tasted. So he's basically asking Her, indirectly, "I don't know where to start or what's good. But you do. I trust you. Feed me."

Now here's some of the meals They've had together (+ AM's comments):

Chicken soup ("Too wet", just ate the broth)

Caesar Salad ("Damp, Crunchy water")

Vanilla ice cream (experienced a brain freeze for the first time, thought his body was malfunctioning)

Spaghetti Bolognese ("No I will not be mixing it, you mix it for me")

Western beef stew (He picked out the potatoes and only ate those. Thought the meat was irritating to eat.)

Baby carrots. ("You know they bleach these, right?")

Asparagus (he likes them. Needs to be warm)

Broccoli (same thing)

Cheese Pizza (Ate it, ate too much. Tummy hurted.)

Tempura (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Fish and chips (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Coffee, black (spat it out)

Macaroni and cheese (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Grilled chicken hearts skewers (He liked it, but kept poking the roof of his mouth with the skewer.)

Half a Hamburger (picked out the vegetables because he didn't like them, still tasted it and gave the rest to Vernon)

Half a cheeseburger (ate it with no fuss.)

Aaand that'll be all for now :) if you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you need any clarifications, feel free to tell me!

#VernonAM #Ihnmaims #vernon ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #vernon i have no mouth and i must scream #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #veomany vernon inthalangsy #art #digital art #artwork #original character #ihnmaims oc #oc x canon #oc x cc

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o-solemioo · 8 months ago

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can you do a miles morales x reader with someone who has insecurities and an ed but miles comforts them?

hello anon!

of course i can! i've said it before, but i love spiderman and miles morales is one of my favourite characters, and again, i do like to write angst ;). hopefully this one will be a bit longer...

also, while i have you here, thank you for all of your requests! i am quite busy, so i hope i can continue to fill most of them. i do really appreciate it! thank you again darlings <3

remember, you're loved, ๏siris ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

— wicked game

☾ pairing: 1610!miles morales x gn!reader ☾ summary: "gum and water isn't breakfast." or miles catches you staring in the mirror and everything changes. ☾ warnings: 2nd person (you), angst, fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, eating disorders (anorexia), detailed insecurities, self-hatred, crying, mentions of arguing/fighting, not proofread. ☾ w๏rd c๏unt: 1,124

—

It started out small.

You just needed to lose a bit of weight. You had stepped on the scale and noticed you gained ten pounds. Not a big deal, you could lose that in less than a month.

You ate a little bit less and started going to the gym a bit more, burning that fat off whenever you had the time. A month had passed. You lost the weight you had gained and felt a lot better. You had more muscle definition, your mood had improved, and you felt on top of the world. What's a little more?

So you lost a bit more. A bit more... just a bit more. A well deserved break was due. You ate what you wanted; whether it was a salad or a cheeseburger. When you stepped back on that scale again, an unfamiliar rush of panic hit you. How had you gained five pounds.

That's when the micromanaging began. Every calorie had been counted for, you hadn't missed a day at the gym, even when you began to feel sick. It was just a cold, or so you had thought. Instead of feeling better, you just felt worse and worse. You were tired, you couldn't focus, and worst of all, you were barely eating anymore. An apple here, some cucumber slices there.

You knew something was wrong when it started affecting other aspects of yourself too. You stared for hours at the person in the mirror who you didn't even recognize. Your cheeks were ever so slightly sunken in, and you noticed. You were breaking out, and you noticed. Your teeth — though you were taking good care of them —felt weaker and brittle, and you noticed. Your fingernails chipped easily, your hair was full of split ends, and you couldn't catch a break in any aspect of your life..

You didn't even stop to think how this could've possibly affected the people around you. Obviously, you didn't want anybody to know, but it was easy enough to hide from your parents and even some of your friends.

Miles, on the other hand, began to notice weeks ago. He was observant. Too observant.

And he caught you.

You were doing your weekly — at this point more like daily — check of yourself in the mirror. You pinched at the skin on your arms, your legs, your chest and stomach. You ran your hands over the dry skin over your face, and you pulled your cracking lips back to reveal your irritated gums. You grimaced, feeling tears well in your eyes. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat, doing anything to stop them from falling. You were so focused on yourself that when Miles finally spoke up, you almost jumped out of your skin.

"What are you doing?" He asked tentatively. He didn't want to hurt you anymore than you were already.

He was sincere. Which is honestly what made it so much worse. It was all it took for the dam in your eyes to break, and in your weakened state, you couldn't help but collapse. He rushed towards you, immediately holding you. You didn't want him to. You were so disgusted with yourself, he should be too.

But he wasn't. He held you as you cried, put up with your struggling against his grasp, and made sure you knew you were safe. He whispered reassuring words as you tried to calm yourself.

He was there for you. He would help you if you needed it. He understood. He knew it was hard.

While you didn't believe it at first, he meant every word he said.

For days afterwards, he made sure he was there while you ate breakfast. The taste of whatever he bought or made for you was almost gross on your underused palette, but he wouldn't leave you until you ate it. Because 'gum and water isn't breakfast'.

He hid the scale from you. This led to more than one screaming match. He wasn't helping you, he was scaring you. You needed to know, no matter how much he tried to convince you otherwise. Though, slowly, you looked forward to breakfast with him. He always surprised you with foods you used to love; yoghurt and berries, toast with peanut butter and jam, and scrambled eggs with a few strips of bacon became staples. He was happy you would eat them, even if you barely ate the rest of the day.

Though, somewhere along the way, you noticed yourself eating again, even if it was small portions.

Miles noticed too. He had never been more happy. It was all because you were happy. You felt better; school was easier again, your hair was nicer, your skin was stronger, and your eyes held your emotions again. You stopped fighting with Miles. You were more affectionate. He was honestly reeling at the change.

You looked in the mirror, and you looked like yourself.

You opened your door one morning to find Miles with flowers and a container of — what used to be — your favourite cake from a local bakery. He came in and made you sit down.

When he opened the container and grabbed the fork, the last thing you expected him to do was bring the forkful of cake to your mouth. You laughed, but took the bite anyway. It was good. It tasted good. That's what mattered, you realized.

You happily ate the cake with Miles. It was satisfying, and while your mind flickered with doubt, you kept it down easily.

Then, for lunch, Miles took you out to your favourite deli. You got the sandwich you almost always had for lunch before you decided on losing weight. You missed the flavours of your favourite condiments, the spices and toppings always made it perfect. You almost scarfed it down, and the smallest pang of embarrassment hit you when you finished your sandwich before Miles even started his second half. But Miles was a slow eater. It was okay.

Miles stayed over the whole day. As well as ordered takeout without your knowledge. The best takeout in the whole city; at least in your opinion. He knew what he was doing. You knew what he was doing. You were okay with it, it was sweet.

As you savoured the lovely taste of cheap, 'home-made everything" takeout, it hit you just how much better you felt. How secure you felt. You looked over at Miles and smiled. You put in the effort, sure, but really, it was him the pushed you to put in the effort.

You would, obviously, never be the same. But you knew that there were people who cared for you so strongly that they would drop anything to help you. Miles would, to you, always be one of those people.

And if you were happy, Miles was happy.

—

broke 1000 words on a fic for the first time in a while! i'm back in the game, baby! hope i can start writing more in my free time.

i hope this is alright, i don't have a lot of experience writing about eds.

#fanfic #x reader #lgbtq #spiderman #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales 1610 #miles morales x gn reader #1610 miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #queer fanfiction #ask response #๏siris' writings 🪶

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purriteen · 1 year ago

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter two

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure

but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next

word count: 3,345

Previous chapter

Next chapter

You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.

At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.

Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.

When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.

Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew.

The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it.

You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.

Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.

Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.

Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain.

A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.

You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous.

You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris.

Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.

You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing.

As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you.

You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.

A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.

Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.

You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year.

You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’.

Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet.

Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.

Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.

You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born.

There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving.

Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.

Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him.

Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.

It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.

You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.

When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you.

You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her.

Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.

You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.

Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.

You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.

Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.

When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.

The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner.

But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.

Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror.

You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you.

You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.

When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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anonmousegosqueak · 2 months ago

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Another headcannon, Roach has a tomato allergy, not severe but it does make his throat pretty itchy. He realized he had an allergy when he said it's kind of annoying that tomatoes make your mouth itchy. And everyone else at the table informed him tomatoes shouldn't make your mouth itchy.

He still really likes tomatoes though so he still tries to eat them. And someone, Price mostly, always snatches them off his plate. He has to smuggle them like drugs.

(Hope you're doing okay (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)! )

Kiokijin, you are my favorite. Please take this as my token of appreciation for sending me these wonderful asks and keeping my spirits up when my tummy feels like turning inside out.

Not only has it happened, it's happened several times. It just started with tomatoes.

After a long mission, one that basically was only a success because Soap blew everything up, they all go out for something to eat (I don't care if this isn't accurate, lemmie have this). Just a small little sandwich shop. When the food was prepared and they left to go eat back at where they were staying, Roach was fine and happy. Cut to when they actually unwrap the sandwiches (+a cookie for Ghost) and Roach scrunches up his nose. Of course everyone else is like "dude, what?" because Roach isn't exactly a picky eater (he eats the cotton candy hidden in the attic 😔).

Then Roach is pointing to the tomatoes on the sandwich, roughly signing something about "not wanting an itchy throat". Obviously that only gets them more confused, Gaz practically hounding Roach until he actually explains and Roach just being confused.

Conversation basically went-

Gaz: "tf? I've literally seen you eat a whole tomato before. There's no way you don't like them."

Roach: "no I like the taste, just not the way they make my mouth itchy."

Gaz: "..."

Roach: "..."

Finally Ghost speaks up- "Gary... Tomatoes shouldn't make your throat hurt."

That was the day they learned that Roach has a mild tomato allergy :D

Guy still ate the sandwich, tomato and all. Price tried to stop him, Gaz offered to trade, but nah. He also went on to be like "okay but what about ____, that's supposed to make your throat itchy right?"

Now Price has gotten in the habit of always checking food for anything Roach might be allergic to (surprisingly quite a few things, all mild but still). He once found bug-boy sitting in a cupboard eating an entire pineapple (no like the whole thing, not cut up he was just eating it like orange slices and placing the outside in a little corner) and promptly forced him to run laps. He also tends to do the dad thing of stealing bits of food but it's always stuff he knows Gary really *really* shouldn't be eating.

He's the problematic child who should probably be taken to the doctor (/physicist) but would rather just suffer because tomatoes are ”REALLY TASTY OKAY?!”

#cod #task force 141 #call of duty #gary roach sanderson #cod headcanons #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley

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tonycries · 21 days ago

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DADDY TONY IM SO SORRY I SENT THE PWP TO THE WRONG BLOG IM IN SHAMBLES AND TEARS. There's like, lore? Not sure if you want the full worldbuilding, but the basics here is Choso is a crow! Or has crow wings, anyways. Crows are very family oriented, which I thought was amazing. It's been recorded that crows who left the nest will return to help their parents with younger clutches! Tell me that isn't a Choso thing to do, I dare you. Plus their whole symbolism with carrion/blood/death (painting) can you see the vision? I made Yuji a chickadee for the crack. They're kinda food-hoarders, which is very funny to me. Not picky birds at all; they'll eat anything from seeds and nuts, to insects, even pick at carrion! I thought it was very fitting for the idiot (affectionate) who ate a rancid ahh finger. Personality wise, they're very friendly birds, very vocal and curious and friendly. Very Yuji. Eso and Kechizu are there for the plot, but they're not really mentioned in the porn. I miss them sm when fics don't include them. I've left the reader's wings up to interpretation! For the worldbuilding, it basically boils down to omegas running society, bc I was sick of all the 'Ragh, alphas are the superior subgender' shit. With the exception of Daddy Tony, ofc. Omegas are low-key terrifying in this one; the whole idea spawned from a couple tiktoks I found! Anyways, I've kept you waiting long enough! The opps (character limit) are against me, so I'll post the smut in chunks! Hope Daddy forgives my sin.

-😔 Choso didn't know how he got this lucky. You were everything he could ever dream off, so pretty and kind and warm in a way that had every part of him aching. He really was going to have to buy Yuji something; if it weren't for his baby brother getting lost in the park, he might never have met you. All wide eyes and soft smiles, with the chickadee clinging to your back, right between your wings. The sight of it still hadn't left his mind; what if that was a different chick? One that looked a little like him, and a lot like you, with your eyes and smile and feathers. He hadn't expected you to laugh and accept his fumbling requests for your number, hadn't expected you to invite him over. Fuck, he wondered if his feathers would line your nest after tonight. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to find himself in your apartment, feathers puffed with adrenaline and need. Had he preened himself well enough? His brothers had insisted on helping, but chicks weren't exactly reliable. Oh no, what if his wings were a mess and he didn't seem impressive enough— "Are you over-thinking this, Cho?" Your voice cut through his thoughts. Choso's head jerked up, eyes meeting yours for a split second before he had to look away. Oh, why had he given you permission to call him by his first name? The sound of it was so sinful on your lips, he had to choke back the urge to just fall to his knees and start begging. For what, he wasn't quite sure. "N-no. Just nervous. I've never..." He winced. How much more pathetic could he sound? Never been with an omega before? Never been with anyone? Hadn't even wanted to until he saw you, you, you. "No? Never?" You were so mean to him. You already knew what he was going to say, why were you making him say it? (What did it say about him that he craved when you were a little cruel?) "Cute." That word had Choso's brain short-circuiting. Cute. Cute. You thought he was cute? He stuttered, unable to find anything to say. Cheeks flushing a brilliant red, he ducked his head.

I demandddd moreeee JJK men with wings ngh 😩❗ Being mean to Choso and him getting a severe case of birdbrain (I just had to, sorry) I love itttt you're so talented ml!!

#😔#AND HELL YEAH WE LOVE TO SEE OMEGAS IN CHARGE #is this fic posted anywhere by chance??#i'd love to read!!#tonytalks

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bigoltrashpile · 4 months ago

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H (any), O1, S2, or W3 for Blue. Take your pick! Bonus points if you can match two of them into one scenario but ofc it's not required

*Cracks knuckles* Challenge accepted.

You sighed and plopped your bag down. It had been a long day, and you were looking forward to warming up some quick food and passing out. Yawning, you stepped into the kitchen, wondering what you could make quickly, and-

Screamed when you saw what was waiting for you. Someone was in your home. Someone you had never met. A skeleton monster, wearing a suit and tie with sky blue accents. He was sitting at your table, which had been laid out with a delicious looking meal. The whole scene was lit with candles, casting an eerie glow across the skeleton's round face.

"AH, YOU'RE FINALLY HOME, DEAR!" The skeleton stood up, his deep, booming voice shocking you back to reality.

"What the-who are you? Why are you in my home?" As you spoke, you tried to back out of the room, moving slowly and praying he wouldn't notice.

The skeleton grinned. There was something dark behind that smile. "SILLY THING, IT'S OUR ANNIVERSARY! HOW COULD YOU FORGET?" He lifted a hand, and you were frozen in your tracks. "THERE ISN'T A SINGLE THING I DON'T REMEMBER ABOUT YOU~"

He made a "come hither" motion, and you were dragged along the ground towards the empty chair. You tried to fight against it, but it was as if gravity itself was working against you, pulling you closer and closer to the maniac in your house.

You were forced into the chair, and once again, there was nothing you could do to get out of it. You growled and glared up at the skeleton. "What the fuck do you want?"

"WHY, I JUST WANT TO ENJOY A MEAL WITH YOU! LIKE I SAID, IT'S OUR ANNIVERSARY! I WORKED HARD ON THIS MEAL, I MADE ALL YOUR FAVORITES!" Indeed, the plates were filled with some of your favorite foods. How the fuck did he know this?? "NOW...ARE YOU GOING TO BEHAVE, OR DO I HAVE TO FEED YOU?~" A sky blue tongue ran over his teeth, and you shuddered. As much as you didn't want to eat this, you also didn't want him to feed you.

"H-how do I know it's not poisoned?" you demanded.

The skeleton put a hand on his chest, like you had wounded him. "I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU! YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?" He looked so innocent, but you knew you couldn't trust him. Your glare apparently broke him, because he suddenly smirked like you two were sharing a joke. As if humoring you, he took a small bite from each thing on your plate. "THERE, NOW YOU KNOW."

Well...you were hungry. And obviously it wasn't poisoned if he ate it...The magic holding you down loosened, and you were able to pick up your silverware. You cautiously began to eat. It was good! You eagerly scarfed down the food, despite your misgivings.

"THERE, SEE? I WORKED HARD TO MAKE THESE, IT WOULD BE A SHAME FOR ALL THIS FOOD TO GO TO WASTE!" The skeleton grinned and began to eat his own food.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, you took a deep breath. "...Who are you?" you finally asked.

"HEHEH, WELL, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD INTRODUCE MYSELF." The sky blue lights in his eye sockets were heart shaped. He folded his hands under his chin, the eye lights not moving away from you. "I HAVE KNOWN YOU FOR A YEAR, AFTER ALL, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME. MY NAME IS LUCKY."

A chill ran down your spine. "A...a year?"

"YES, LOVE, AND IN THAT TIME, I'VE LEARNED EVERYTHING I CAN ABOUT YOU~" Lucky leaned closer, the candlelight making his skull seem impossibly sharp. "YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC...YOUR SCHEDULE...YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY...AND I JUST CAN'T KEEP AWAY ANY LONGER!"

You once again began fighting the magic holding you down. This...this stalker was clearly insane!

The skeleton took a steeling breath, then took a sip of his drink. His eyelights were back to small dots. "ANYWAY...IS THE FOOD GOOD? IS THIS OKAY? DID I DO WELL? IT TOOK QUITE A BIT OF WORK TO MAKE IT SO YOU WOULDN'T TASTE THE SLEEPING PILLS."

Immediately, your mouth went dry. "S...sleeping pills?" There was a weight in your stomach, and your hands started to shake.

"DON'T WORRY, NOT A LETHAL DOSE, OF COURSE! BUT YOU ATE ENOUGH THAT IT SHOULD BE TAKING EFFECT ANY MOMENT NOW." Lucky took another bite from his plate, before standing up and stalking around the table. Your eyelids seemed to be getting heavier, but you fought to stay awake.

You struggled, even as your limbs grew weaker. There was no getting out of this. But you weren't going down without a fight. You growled, gathered the last of your strength, and-

Spit right in Lucky's face.

His smile twitched a bit, but he just calmly wiped it off with his napkin. "NICE TRY, DEAREST, BUT THAT'S NOT GOING TO MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND." His eyelights once again changed to little hearts, and his smile widened. It almost looked like his face was going to split in half.

"NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO ME, I'LL WORSHIP THE VERY GROUND YOU WALK ON. THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS TO LOVE SOMEONE!"

You tried to struggle, but you were quickly losing consciousness. Lucky placed a gloved hand on your cheek, thumb swiping across your cheekbone gently. "JUST SLEEP, MY DEAR. WHEN YOU WAKE UP, YOU WILL BE SAFELY AT HOME WITH ME~"

The last thing you saw as your eyelids shut was the skeleton, standing up and straightening his tie. You felt his arms wrap around you and lift you into the air. Just as you lost consciousness, Lucky's teeth pressed to your forehead. "I Will See You Soon, My Love~"

#i really like this one #i'm proud that i got all four prompts in there!#hopefully it turned out okay!!#my garbage #writing #mafiatale #mafiaswap #tw drugging #sans #sans x reader #lucky #yandere #yandere prompts #yandere sans #yandere swap sans

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ivyluvsyouu · 11 months ago

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okay, this is the first request i've ever done on tumblr. (horrified)

could i request some yelan, ei, shenhe, (& i'm not sure if you are currently taking hsr, but) hanya and natasha? with a shy and quiet fem! reader, who's also much shorter than them.

i have two ideas, just in case the first one isn't something you'd write for.

they discover that reader would really like to become a mother with them, but hasn't brought it up because she knows it's impossible. maybe they see her journal left open, or maybe she accidentally left a tab open on her computer.

they plan an adorable picnic for reader. they sent her out of the house so they could prepare everything, or maybe they did it overnight. (maybe fem! reader has been sad lately, so they do this to cheer her up, and it works) they get a nice and plushy picnic blanket, a cute basket adorned in lace, and adorable sandwiches and snacks and fruits, accompanied with some wine?

you totally don't have to do either, but it'd make my day !! <33

𝑷𝒊𝒄𝒏𝒊𝒄<𝟑

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏, 𝑬𝒊, 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒆, 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂

𝑭𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏

You had gotten hurt on a commission recently; you were going to be okay, but your injury had left you bedridden for a while and you were going to be bedridden for a few more weeks at least and your girlfriend Yelan felt awful for you. She wanted to do something for you. One day when Yelan was out doing some commissions she saw a young couple having a picnic outside and she got the idea to have a little picnic at home with you since you couldn't get out of bed. She picked up some wine and some food in Liyue and she made sure to get some of your favorite dishes and she brought the food home. "I'm home dear!" She said as she came into your shared bedroom.

She had a basket in her hand and a blanket in the other. She sat next to you in bed and placed the blanket over you. She set the plates and food up. You were confused about what she was doing. "Yelan, what are you doing?" you asked curiously. "I felt bad we haven't been able to do anything together recently, so I wanted to set up a picnic in bed" She explained pouring you a glass of wine. You smiled and laid on her shoulder as she got everything set up. It didn't take long for her to get it set up and once she did you raised your head from her shoulder, and she smiles at you "Alright, dear everything's ready we can eat now"

𝑬𝒊

Ei noticed you had been extremely stressed out recently with work. Ei wanted to do something for you, but she wasn't sure what. She asked Miko what she should do and Miko suggested a picnic. Ei went home that day, and she spent all night preparing things for the picnic while you were asleep. She made sure to follow the recipes very carefully while she made the good since she's not good at cooking. They weren't perfect but she was proud of how they came out. You woke up that next morning to your girlfriend finishing setting things up.

"Morning, Ei" you said rubbing your eyes as you walk into the kitchen. She smiles and turns around "Morning, love come on I have something planned for us" she said softly. You nodded and got ready, and she took you to a secluded area in Inazuma. She set up all the food she had prepared for you and her. The sun was still rising so the both of you had a beautiful view of the sunrise while you ate. You laid on her shoulder as you both watched the sunrise and ate the food she had prepared. "I love you, Ei" you said in-between bites of your food. "I love you too, more than anything"

𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒆

Your girlfriend didn't know much about relationships and how to comfort people. So, when she noticed that you had been feeling down recently, she had no idea what to do or how to help. She ended up asking Xianyun for help. "My girlfriend has been really down recently, and I want to do something special to make her feel better..."

Xianyun gave her the idea to make some food and take her on a picnic. Shenhe doesn't know much about the food you eat either since she grew up in the mountains, so Xianyun shared some recipes with her as well. You were out on some commissions, so she had all day to finish making the food. You got home around sunset, and she had just finished preparing everything. "Y/n, perfect timing come with me" she said gently taking your hand and grabbing the picnic basket. And right back out the door you went. She took you to a private spot in Liyue and she set everything up. "Is this what a normal picnic looks like?" she asks as she finishes setting everything up. You laugh slightly and nod "Yes, Shenhe you did a great job"

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂

She had been quite busy with her work recently and she hadn't had a lot of time for you, and she felt terrible about it, so she wanted to plan something special for you. She got the idea to take you on a picnic so she picked a day when she knew you wouldn't be home. You were out with some of your friends that day so as soon as you kissed her goodbye and left, she got to work.

She spent all day making food for you and her so she could take you on a picnic later that evening. She finished about an hour or so before you got home so when you got home, she immediately went to greet you at the door. "Welcome home, love come with me I have a surprise for you" she said. She grabbed the picnic basket and led you to an area that was private and where the two of you would be uninterrupted "I know I've been busy recently and I hope this makes up for everything"

𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂

Your birthday was coming up and your girlfriend wanted to plan something special for you. She asked a few of your friends what they thought she should do, and she came up with the idea to set up a picnic for you. One morning she woke up extra early so she could set everything up and it didn't take her long to get everything set up it took her about three or so hours, you hadn't even woken up yet.

When you woke up and walked into the kitchen, she greeted you with a hug and a kiss. "Happy birthday, Dear! I have something planned for us, come on let's go" she said happily. You quickly got ready, and she took you to a cliff nearby where you could have a view of everything as you two eat. "I hope you like it, love" she said as she finished setting everything up. "I love it, Natasha thank you"

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕!

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #yelan x reader #yelan fluff #ei x reader #ei fluff #shenhe x you #shenhe x reader #shenhe fluff #hanya x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n

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