#and i think i forget that not going out and not talking to people actually does fuck my physical health up

[lailols]

Txt as Love Languages <3

Soobin

Giving

Acts of Service

Soobin isn’t good with words :(

he’s such an overthinker and his brain goes a million times faster than his mouth

but he does his very best to show it in other ways

keeping track of your schedule and making sure you’re eating properly

restocking things around the house before you even know they're running out

refilling your body wash/perfume/lotions when they get low

he WILL try to cook for you and it MIGHT be bad but it’s okay cause he tried

he will peel every orange on this earth if it means you don't have to lift a finger when you're around him

he shows his affection in the ‘little ways’ that are often overlooked but has love written all over them

Receiving

Quality Time

PLEASE spend all of your time with him

let him game while you do your own tasks off to the side

just spending time in your presence makes him feel so loved and cared for

you don’t even have to talk :(

you wanna scroll on TikTok while he games? YES do face masks while he’s scrolling on TikTok? PLEASE nap while he’s "reading"? HOP IN THE BED

he just wants to be around you all of the time :(

you’re so comforting to him

Yeonjun

Giving

Physical Affection

ALWAYS has a hand on you

hand in yours while you’re walking

hand on your waist while you’re standing

hand on your thigh while you’re sitting

he just has to be touching you :(

not even in a sexual way

he just wants to make sure you’re by his side at all times

if you go too far at any point in time, he’s searching for you like a lost kitten :(

also, Jun IS a back pocket holder, I fear

Receiving

Words of Affirmation

catch him off guard with your words

say the intrusive compliments as soon as they enter your head

look deeper into him and say you love whatever you find below the surface

he gets so flustered whenever he gets complimented genuinely :(

he’s the most attractive then

he just stops for a bit and flushes

he’s also an overthinker so PLEASE don’t let him fall victim to his thoughts

tell him you love him every second!

make sure he knows he will always be loved when he's with you

remind him that he’s not perfect, but he’s doing his best

just absolutely shower him in praise cause he deserves it

Beomgyu

Giving

Words of Affirmation

gyu IS the real loser loverboy yearner

as soon as he’s in your presence hymns flow from his lips

he's a ten but he HAS to tell you how much you mean to him or he’ll blow up

he feels like he was put on this earth with no other purpose but to cherish you

it’s so random too

you’ll be walking in the freezing cold and he’ll just stop and pour his heart out to you

literally makes you cry in the middle of the street

Receiving

Gift Giving

gift giving in the “this made me think of you” way

send him songs that remind you of him and he’ll cherish them forever :(

make him little trinkets to keep around his room

get matching jewelry for y’all and he’ll never take it off :(

it just makes him feel so seen, so loved :(

he def has a box of all the things that you give to him and he rotates things so nothing feels left out

I kid you not, he has the first gift you gave him all those years ago proudly in the center of his dresser

buy him things that pertain to his interests and he’ll just melt

but DO NOT forget to give him gifts that remind him of you

most of the plushies you gave him are a weird mix of his and your names

Taehyun

Giving

Quality Time

the universal love language imo

can mean a variety of things and still be so special

whether it’s actively doing something together or just existing in the same space

he’s such a comforting person and he just wants to spend time with you

always in your space, but he frames it as if YOU wanted him there (you did, but you didn’t say it)

complains as if HE isn’t holding you tight

cooking together, watching shows together, working out together

anything that may seem like something a person can do along is actually something for TWO PEOPLE

yes, he needs to run to the store with you because what if you can’t carry it alone? (You wanted a bag of chips)

Receiving

Acts of Service

tae is such a reliable person that I think he would want to be taken care of a bit

having someone to look out for him, y'know (if the four men already doing that aren't enough)

not in the 'you can't do it yourself' way but in the 'I love you and want to make your life easier for you'

cooking for him (though you will have to strong-arm him into sitting down and not joining)

massage his (beautiful, hot, sexy) shoulders when he has a bit of pain

just do the little things that show you care and that you listen to him

make sure he’s pampered like the king he is

Kai

Giving

Gift Giving

Kai WILL gift you everything under the sun

it’s just how he shows his love

you ARE coparenting near a hundred plushies

he WILL buy cringy shirts for you guys to wear and YOU BETTER WEAR IT

proudly wears his “I <3 my gf/bf” shirt with your face on it at least once a week and expects the same in return (even better if you’re doing it together)

makes up holidays to give you gifts (it’s NAWT just a random Tuesday, it’s national kitten day, so YES he has to give you a kitten plush, wdym?)

flowers anytime he’s seeing you

no, he does not change

your parents adore him because he never shows up to the house empty handed no matter how long you’ve been dating

almost sobs when you have to stop home for something and he didn’t have anything on hand

literally keeps something in his car now for this purpose :(

Receiving

Physical Affection

PLEASE stick to Kai like glue

he deserves it :(

he’s such a physical person himself that he’d just love it in return

he’s so tactile, molding to fit his body against yours like it was meant to be (it was)

rests his head in your lap when you’re sitting near each other :(

RUB HIS TUMMY :((

give him head pats

forehead kisses PLEASE

cling onto him when you’re out and about

cuddles will follow anything you do

[marsdql]

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ p. childhood boyfriend!sim jaeyun ⤫ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳﹒wc: 9.2к﹒g. romantic drama, emotional romance, angst, slowburn, light fluff﹒cw. emotional distress, ghosting and abandonment, suidical thoughts, mental health struggles, manipulation, past trauma, reconciliation and healing, triggers of emotional abuse, toxicity, high levels of angst and emotional intensity, mild references to past toxic relationships. @wheretheheckis-ssaki

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ synopsis ﹒During middle school, you and a boy in your friend’s class—named Sim Jaeyun—were inseparable, you both had your own friendg roup, he was a popular guy on the soccer team while you were a normal girl, yet would talk to each other on the phone everyday the second the bell rang. You both eventually fell for each other but had to keep your relationship private due to drama with girls. A year later—after everyone found out about you guys, he unexpectedly distanced—then disappeared. 10 years later, when you move to France for a few weeks due to a project in uni, you and Jake cross paths once again. (NOT PROOFREAD)

Sim Jaeyun, he was the best boyfriend I could ever think of having, he was my first love, definitely. It started in the seventh grade, when he was in class 7G—the same class as my friends. I remember when my bestfriend first told me about how he’d catch people playing Roblox in class and signal it to the entire class—that’s when I started teasing him—he was my best friends locker buddy, so I’d see him everyday.

Everytime id see him—when he would be arguing about something stupid with his classmates, I’ll snarl at him, “shut up Jake! Go play your Roblox!”. For some odd reason, he was REALLY talkative, but the second I’d say that, he’d just shut up. He’d smile at me and continue packing his things to get to the bus, forgetting about the entire conversation he had with the people next to him.

Until one day, another normal day of me telling him the same line, he actually responded this time. ‘How about you go play Roblox, huh?’ He said. ‘Okay, I will then, make sure you join me in jayjay simulator!!!’ I replied—I don’t know why I said “jayjay”, it just came out—soon enough, that would be the name all the girls would start calling him—because of me. As I walked away with my bestfriend—heading to the bus, I whispered to her, “hey, you know, Jake is kinda cute.”

— rest below cut ! —

Later that day, I decided to add him on my phone, message him—tease him a little bit more, he was funny—his reactions. He wasn’t like other boys, when you’d argue with him, he’d do it in a goofy way, he wouldn’t say actual harmful stuff—not to me Atleast.

- Jake: who is this?

- You: You didn’t join me in jayjay simulator. :(

- Jake: Hehe, yes I did!!!

He was so cute, even his messages were adorable. Whenever I’d playfully roleplay and fake random situations, people would call me childish, but with him, he’d play along, fully convincing eachother that everything we said was real.

I was determined to talk to this guy everyday, I’d find a random topic that has been spreading around our grade so that everyday, after school, I’d message him, using it as an excuse to talk to him. And it worked! I noticed that he’d even find some stuff too, so that he could message me. Once, he asked me for anime recommendations even though everyone knows him and his friendgroup hated anime, they made fun of it—except for blue lock of course—since it’s football related.

During my pe class, his friends that were in my class were destroying me in badminton—they weren’t that good…..but I just sucked at the sport! He peeked in, hoping to waste time from his class, and I screamed “Jake!!! Help me, your friends are bullying me…”

he was such a nice person to me, I’d tease him and say that he was rude in order to keep talking to him—in my mind, if I was accusing him of something, it’d be another reason for him to keep responding to me— and of course, it worked, I’m just a genius.

We were genuinely so funny, we both wanted to talk to eachother whenever we had the chance, but didn’t know how. Our biggest highlight was when we’d send random emojis to eachother for 4 hours straight just because we had no conversation anymore.

On February 14th, at the valentines dance, we were pressured to hug by the crowd. At this point, I had the biggest crush on him but nobody knew. Since he was popular and quiet talk compared to the other boys(puberty hit him the earliest), most of my friends fancied him. I was stuck, how could I tell my friends that I liked him first, when I never told them? Anyway, we didn’t hug, we’re both so awkward and to be honest, I’m glad we didn’t, it’s too cringe hugging like that!

When we got home, he messaged me, telling me he’s sorry he didn’t hug me because….. his teacher was watching and didn’t want him to tell his parents??? What a stupid excuse… That’s not the point, Y/n get back into the topic! I don’t remember how we got to the conversation but we were talking about crushes, who we liked. I kid you not, it took us 3 hours to confess, and it was so obvious we were saying we liked each other! We kept asking each other for hints, obvious ones. But eventually, we both said each others name at the same time. I remember so vividly that I was playing cards with my brother, unable to focus because of the joy I was feeling after reading my name pop up.

Now that I look back at it, I realize how mature we were for our age, even though we confessed, we didn’t do anything about it, we didn’t start dating or anything—just got really awkward, stopped talking in real life after that…

Fast forward the summer of 7th grade, when we got together July 2nd at 2am. To be honest, it wasn’t the way I expected it to be.

A girl from my grade messaged me:

- g/n: Hey! You’re close to Jake, right?

- You: Hi g/n! And yeah, I am, why?

- g/n: well… me and him have been messaging for 2 weeks now and I kinda like him. I was hoping you’d help me?

I beg your pardon? Me? Help you? I don’t even know this girl, all I knew was that she was some popular girl in a big friendgroup. That friendgroup was always around jake’s, they craved their attention so much—it disgusted me. But, it’s not like he’s my boyfriend, who am I to say no, maybe he likes her.

I helped her that entire night—telling her to text him certain things that only I knew he’d enjoy. They started doing the same thing me and him did on Valentine’s Day, guessing each other’s crushes, it took me aback, I self sabotaged myself—for no reason at all. During all of it, he was messaging me at the same time, acting a sweet to me. For no reason at all, he sent me this out of context message, “Y/n, I enjoy messaging you a lot.” Seconds later,

- g/n: He was taking too long to tell me his crush so I just told him I like him and asked if he wants to get together!

What? Did I just read that right… I acted as if I didn’t see her message and went to respond to jake’s instead. “Oh really?” I questioned him, my heart was beating so fast at this point, I didn’t know what was going to happen, it has been months and we’re still in a talking stage, surely he wouldn’t get with a girl he started talking to just 2 weeks ago, right? That’s what I thought until another message popped up.

- g/n: GIRL OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU HE JUST SAID YES OMGOMG.

the second she said that, he responded to me, “yeah, I really do, you’re my favourite person to talk to.” Oh heck no. I’m hysterically sobbing—what the hell?

Okay I can’t do this deep detail stuff, fast forward again—he told me and the girl goodnight—well actually, he only told the girl goodnight, I’m the one who told him goodnight before he could say anything else because I was so close to blocking him. But, I couldn’t hold it in, I had to confront him.

- You: Jake, I know you’re not asleep, respond

- Jake: What’s up?

- You: Tell me now, who’s your crush?

- Jake: you already know who

- You: no I don’t, who is it

- Jake: you

- You: then why did you just ask out g/n?

- Jake: who told you

- You: it doesn’t matter who told me, answer me.

- Jake: I promise you I’ll tell you when you tell me who told you

I tried so hard to keep my composure, but I told him everything. Then, I asked him politely, “who do you want? Me or g/n?” no intention in making him choose between us, I genuinely wanted to know because I didn’t want to be lead on if he liked g/n—and I didn’t want g/n to be lead on in this relationship if he liked me. I never made him choose between us, I simply asked him who he liked because he just agreed to dating a girl 2 hours ago and is now telling me he likes me, anyone in my situation would’ve done that, right?

- Jake: you I pick you

- Jake: I want you

- Jake: I’m so sorry I was just desperate for someone and I thought you liked one of my friends at this point, I was so desperate I just agreed to her.

We got together right after he broke up with her the following morning—maybe it was kind of stupid of us to do it so soon, but we were both waiting in eachother since the day we confessed all those months ago, it was summer, everything felt right, we had a huge conversation that night and talked about eachother and all our hidden secrets til 4am. In that conversation, we also made it clear that we would keep our relationship private because he had friends who liked me and I also had multiple who liked him.

Riingg ! — back into reality.

8:00am, you get up, brush your teeth, and your hair, wear a basic outfit you barely looked at before picking, and walk to the train station—waiting a few minutes for it to arrive.

There goes your alarm, woah, you just experienced your entire love story with Jake again, in a dream—you almost thought it was real. You're now 22, can’t believe that all happend 10 years ago. It feels as if it happend yesterday. Although, a lot has changed since then, You're not the same as before, you arent in middle school, or high school at all—but rather studying medicine in one of your dream universities. Your personality has changed a lot, the way you act has matured a lot aswell—you now know that you don’t need to be a brat in order to get people’s attention, hah…

Although your life has changed, the place to where your mind wanders hasn’t. You still remember the time you and Jake risked a day to go on a field trip downtown to a haunted house in the 8th grade—right after summer. You remember all the stares you got as you walked together—not even holding hands or anything, just simply walking. Everyone would ship you guys together—yet got so mad when they suspected that you two were dating.

A few days—not even—a few hours after the field trip, pictures of me and him were spreader everywhere. I was officially done for. My friends had left me a little before it all, I was already dealing with that loss—and now, I had to deal with the entire population of girls in my grade hating on me—simply for hanging out with a friend everyone knew I was close to.

I just didn’t get it. Everyone would ship us, everyone knew we were close, we didn’t even kiss—or hold hands—or hug—or anything! Why did everyone get so mad? They didn’t know or get the confirmation that we were dating—so why did I get ignored by everyone so secretively? Nobody talked to me about it, rumours spread about me and only me—about Jake—just me. The worse thing was, I didn’t have a say in anything. Nobody could say anything to my face, it was all behind my back, nobody dared to say anything while I was around, I never found out what they said—only small details of my last remaining friends that would overhear small stuff from crowds.

That’s basically how my entire 8th grade was like. I know some people would see it as a compliment that nobody could say anything to my friend—not even humiliate or bully me for it, but I felt as if it was the biggest curse ever. I never had a chance to speak about it, talk my feelings.

The worse part is—Jake said it was going to be okay, he didn’t care about what people thought about us. But just a month after the entire incident—he ghosted me for two weeks, came back to say sorry then did it again for two weeks. Then, it became a month and came back later to talk about how he was moving to France at the end of the year. I knew about it already, I was the only person he told, but it felt so much wise because he was talking about it during a period where he was just constantly ghosting me.

It was soon going to be his birthday so I decided to send him a huge paragraph:

I’ve deleted every single person off my Snapchat to make sure we keep that “you and Jake have been each other's number one best friend for 2 months!” Even though it’s been almost a year since we had it, you know it only changes from 2 weeks, 2 months and two years. Yet still, you lost it. So so busy of you to lose that feature, texting someone else. I saw you online for a good 3 hours. How are you busy?

I said I don’t mind if you’re busy because we each have our own lives, but you’re completely ghosting me.

I can’t take a single apology from you anymore it makes me even more angry and frustrated I hate how much you take advantage of me because you know I’ll be the first to say “it’s alright” or “don’t think about it too much, I forgive you” and completely forget about every single breakdown I’ve had because of you.

I hate all of your sorry messages I hate the way I felt so happy each time you apologize even though you never changed, I hate when I begged you to stop calling you a bad boyfriend even though you are not only a bad boyfriend but the worst newest person that entered my life, I hate how much I can’t stop loving you despite all of the pain and hatred I’m getting from you, I hate how much I miss the times you were actually excited to text me, I hate it when I actually believed that you’d love me forever, I hate it when we talked about our future together and how we both prayed to be soulmates, I hate how you’re always the first thing that comes to mind when I wake up, do something, cry, laugh, lay down, work, and every single other thing I do in my life. I hate how much I love you more than you love me and I hate even more how much I’m aware of it. I hate the night you killed me inside and still found a way to make me happy in the end with your tricks. I hate how happy you look in real life when I see you with your friends knowing I have one friend and always have to plan ahead if she’s not here, how I have problems with everyone and even that current friend I’m not happy around, compared to you and your amazing friend group where everyone loves you and you love them.

I hate how you still manage to have a smile on your face even when we’re not texting. I don’t understand how much I hate you right now but it’s not hate as in how much I hate my old friends, it’s a hate of sadness and of “how could you do this to me” hate. I hate you so much I can’t get rid of you. I love you too much and that’s why I hate you. I hope to one day look back at my 8th grade and hopefully say that all this pain was all worth it in the end because I’ve ruined my childhood so much 7-8th grade because of you.

Tomorrow January 12 2024 will be the day me and you met last year. We’ve known each other for a year. Why does it feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I’ve felt miserable since birth? I can't do this anymore.

I wish I could be as happy as you when you’re with your friends, I wish I could be as careless as you, I wish I could go months without texting their partner just like you, I wish I didn’t need to worry if someone’s going to leave me or not, I wish I could have peace and calmness in my life, I wish I had friends I actually enjoyed, I wish I didn’t need to feel so lonely all the time, I wish I didn’t have to look down whenever I see you in the hallways so that I don’t embarrass myself, I wish I wasn’t always so angry, I wish I didn’t care so much about everything, I wish I wasn’t sensitive, I wish I was crying right now, I wish I could leave and forget everyone I met last and this year including you, I wish I didn’t start talking to you, I wish I was your first and only option, I wish I didn’t think of you everytime a song came up, I wish I didn’t think of you when I see something that I know you like, I wish I could find an end to all the things that come up to mind that don’t stop flowing when I’m writting these, I wish I didn’t waste all that money on you, I wish that Snapstreak I paid back for because you lost it, wasn’t lost again because you just didn’t feel like doing it anymore, I wish I didn’t cry to sad songs because they remind me of you, I wish I didn’t see myself in every mentally unstable situation, I wish I could go to sleep peacefully, I wish you were there when I needed you most, I wish you felt the way I felt, I wish you experienced the stuff I went through, I wish you could understand how I feel, I wish you would listen to me for once, I wish you’d understand the things I feel, I wish you knew how much I’m hurting, I wish I could tell someone about all my problems without feeling guilty afterwards, I wish I could shut my mouth up and stop talking so much especially when nobody enjoys it, I wish you’d snap-text me the way we used to, I wish you’d randomly tell me how much you love me like before, i wish you would beg me for forgiveness when you’d forget to reply for like 5 mins unlike how you leave me on delivered on purpose for 2 days now, I wish you felt grateful for me still being here, I wish I could move places and forget everything, I wish my sins weren’t all on my back even though I’m trying to move on, i wish I could move on from you, I wish I could forget about you the way you so easily forgot about me, I wish I could go to sleep without crying, I wish I could stop listening to my thoughts, I wish everyone would like me like you, I wish you’d understand everything and everyone I lost because I was with you, I wish you’d see how much people hate me because I’m with you and they were jealous, I wish you realize that i didn't care about how I have no friends because I knew I’d be able to talk to u when I get back home, that’s why I’m hurting so much now.

I wish you could ignore the girls that try to hit you up, just like how I do with the boys that simply want to be my friend, I wish you understood how stupidly I miss you, I wish you could treat me how I wish a man could treat me, I wish you’d never leave to France, I wish you never find a new person in France, I wish you’d understand how I can’t live without you anymore and it’s all your fault, I wish you’d see and understand that I feel so worried because I don’t want to lose you, I wish you’d comprehend that I wouldn’t get jealous for no reason and that I was overprotective but rather that you’re my first love and I’m scared of losing you, I wish you’d understand how much I try to talk to you and be around you, I wish you know and see how I finish all my work early or do it later just to try and be able to talk to you as much as I can, I wish you’d know how I’m writing all of this right now instead of revising for my test tomorrow. I wish I wouldn’t feel so tired after crying about you for just a few minutes, I wish my eyes weren’t always heavy because of you and crying because of you, I wish I could stop loving you forever.

Happy birthday Jake! Whenever I write ur name it always pops up as “JAKEEE” and it might sound stupid but I smile everytime I see it. I’m writing this at 11:19pm, on a day where you’re ghosting me, again for the second time. I don’t know what’s the reason this time, knowing you couldn’t keep your promise of not doing it again that you said not even a week ago.

I hope you’re aware I’m not stupid, I see when you’re online, I know you’ve left me on delivery for two days on purpose. When I said I don’t know about your reason “this time”, I in fact don’t know a lot of things that you do. When you’re in trouble I know you go on your phone for a couple minutes, you just decide to not even check up on me with that time. It sounds pathetic and unimportant but in my point of view it’s the most gut wrenching thing to know because I would, without a doubt, pick you out of everyone to talk to if I was going to die and had one last chance to talk to someone.

I’m typing all of this and I’m not even sure if we’ll make it till your birthday but, I’ve decided to completely forget about you when it hits 2024 if you still kept ghosting me because I wanna turn into a new person and throw away my past and all my old mistakes behind me that have been affecting my present. I try so hard to give myself excuses about you not texting, maybe you’re doing something with your parents like you said you were doing, maybe it was a surprise trip! But then I think more and realize that if you wanted to text me and say why you couldn’t text, you would’ve and if you couldn’t, you would’ve tried.

I hate how much I love you and I hate how much I’m aware that you don’t love me the same amount. My December is the absolute definition of “Hell”. I decided to wait for winter break to talk to you all about it and make myself better. What a fool I was for waiting and thinking you’d still text me the same. I hate how we text now, I don’t care about anything I just wanna feel special texting you the way we used to.

When I used to always tell you how tired I am based on how tired you are(like when you weren't tired and I was, I’d lie and say I wasn’t either, don’t know if you know what I’m talking about) I’d say it because I know myself, I know how if you were sad I’d be sad, if you’re happy I’m happy, when you’re not around I’m sad and when you’re around I’m happy.

You don’t understand the times I Thanked god each time you texted me back, even when it turned into an argument. I rather argue with you instead of no contact. That's how much I enjoy texting you. No matter how much I’ve cried and felt miserable being with you at times, I can’t seem to let you go. No matter how many boys that have liked me and I’ve never told you about, I decided to ignore and move on with my life. No matter how handsome they were, I myself don't understand why I see something in you that I don’t see with anyone else. Not being able to let you go is what kills me and I physically cannot live without you.

I can’t live a few hours without you, especially when I don't know the reason why you’re gone. When you told me you leave the people you don’t like texting on delivery, you told me that February 2023, a few days before the Valentine’s dance. If I told my February 2023 self that I’d be one of those people you keep on delivering, I’d laugh and start talking about how you’re such an amazing person.

And what’s worse is, I still laugh at myself and talk the best about you, even when I know deep down all the things I would rather swallow glass than go through again when I was with you.

I remember all our memories like it was yesterday, Jan 12, the first conversation when I added you on discord and you asked me “who is this” and i replied with “why didn’t you join me in nana simulator”. That day when going in the bus I told ____ “hey that Jake guy is kinda cute” but didn’t think it would get this far.

The time you made that stupid lie about not hugging me because mister ____ was there and u didn’t want ur parents to know.. I knew it was a lie, and I wasn’t upset that you didn’t hug me, I was uncomfortable as well at that moment, I was upset because someone hit me.

The night you got with g/n that was the same night you got with me. Every single conversation we had I remember it, even the stupid moment when you said you only liked g/n 40%. You say a lot of stupid things that turn out funny, that’s why I try to make myself feel better thinking you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but I forget that you’re not a child and you know everything you do.

I seriously wish I was lying when I say I never cried this much in my life except when I met you, even now. Right now, you’re even active on Instagram and of course I’m still on delivery. I’ve never felt so pathetic and embarrassed in my life, just looking at that “delivered 2D” thing on ur name. How I watched your name go from “jake” to “Jake❤️” to “jaeyun” to “j” to your original name on snap that you have on default. “⚽️”.

I love you so much that even my mother loves you. Whenever you weren’t texting me (practically the entire December), my mother would ask me about you a lot, I knew she loved you so much and I didn’t want you to have a bad look to my mother so I’d lie to her for you and tell her that you just texted me that you couldn’t text and whenever she’d ask me again, I’d tell her that you were saying the truth and u haven’t went online ever since, even though I knew that you were online half of the time.

I’ve tried seeing you all the time at school just to look at you and act if we are still texting, even if it meant crying a bit in class while thinking about you because I was left without explanation and you always look so happy, despite my absence in your life.

I keep lying to myself and saying that you mean the words you say to me but I know you don’t try to see me in every person you come across the same way I do, you don’t think of me the second you wake up at night the way I do, you would never look for me In a room full of girls.

I wake up from dreams in the middle of the night and even if it was a nightmare my first thought would be you, even if most likely the nightmare would have something to do with you. When my phone is next to me and I wake up, the first thing I do is put my phone down and in my head I say “please say you texted” knowing that each time it’s never you. I go back to sleep and wait for a message knowing I’d never wake up again if it were the case. I say I wish you could communicate more so I could understand how much you love me but, do you not love me as much because you lack communication or do you lack communication because you don’t love me as much.?

I don’t really know how this happy birthday thing turned into a whole story about my love life with you and how miserable I’ve been ever since school started again. It’s 2:01am now and I just can’t seem to fall asleep when you’re on my mind. My head hurts thinking so much about you, my head goes dizzy and my eyes start to pump as if they have their own heartbeat, disgusting..

I love you so much I wish I could forget about you for my own well being.

7 snaps in the morning, none of them are you. So many boys on my phone yet you're still the only one I wish would text me. My head knows ur bad for me but my heart doesn’t wanna leave you, I’m scared of losing every opportunity of being able to be with you, but I guess I’m just wasting that time with my own well being.

3 days doesn't sound like a lot but when you’re always online and ignoring me on purpose, it sure is a long time. I wish I could leave you on delivery for that long. I tried to ignore you a few times but I couldn’t last more than 4 minutes. It hurts how much we are different in this relationship and how much love is we feel is unequal

I tried as much as I could to keep you as my number one best friend on snap. I told my entire best friend list that I couldn’t talk so that nobody would go up, and it still managed to get ruined. Lina spent her days spamming me and making me reply to stories she posts so that she could take the number one best friend list on my list, and it worked. I doubt I was still yours anyway.

I tried as much as I could to keep you as my number one best friend on snap. I told my entire best friend list that I couldn’t talk so that nobody would go up, and it still managed to get ruined. Lina spent her days spamming me and making me reply to stories she posts so that she could take the number one best friend list on my list, and it worked. I doubt I was still yours anyway.

It’s funny because it’s news years and 2 years ago, this was the day i met the online friend who left me.

The one I was attached with for 2 years and ruined my entire mental health throughout 6 and 7th grade. The one that YOU replaced. The one I talked about for hours with you on TikTok, the one I told you I would tell everything and ever since he left, you were the new person I started acting as if it was him.

That guy, that nasty guy I was best friends with, blocked me for fun and ghosted me just to see me suffer without him, and you’re just repeating all of it.

I know you’re never going to message me, yet I realize I keep checking my lock screen every 5 minutes, your Instagram status, your reposts, your snap score, everything. I keep myself on not disturb but keep checking to hope that maybe, just maybe, you would’ve decided to check my messages and reply.

If I knew that night was gonna be the last time we were gonna talk to each other, I would’ve listened to my gut and begged you to stay. I’ve repeated many things, this entire “paragraph”(more like a book lol.) is in scrabbles because I don’t know how to explain myself, I write so much each time and just keep feeling the same, no happiness.

I know I said if you don’t text before it hits 2024, I’d forget you and erase you from my life because I’m trying to change, but the truth is, I’m sure that even if you text me after, I’d reply the second I see your name. Although I might be still a little too confident thinking you’d text at all. I don’t want to leave you, even when I know it’s better for me. I want to text you “I wanna break up” so you could make some sense when you’re half swiping my message and quickly reply, but I’m scared that you wouldn’t question it and instead just say okay and leave for good.

I hate always being the one that gets attached in relationships, especially when the other isn’t.

I hate how when you came back after ghosting me for 2 weeks before ghosting me again this time, you were acting as if you were embarrassed and very guilty about what you did, you made me feel bad for you. While I was the one suffering and crying every chance I got, I was the one comforting you. “You don’t need to say sorry, I knew you wouldn’t do this without a reason, I know you wouldn’t mean it.

Even before you came back and said sorry, I had forgiven you. I just want you to focus on yourself but please, communicate with me next time, I’ll understand you.” Those were the words I told you. Why can’t anyone comfort me the same way I comfort people? Why were those the words I wanted to hear? Why are you, the one who makes me smile and who makes me wanna die as well, why are you the only reason I wanna keep living? Why do I see my life only as Important because I know if I died I wouldn’t be able to text you anymore?

I see you use Snapchat by your snap score going up, gosh it feels so pathetic to know I’m still on delivered. Stop doing this to me please I beg you it hurts too much I can’t handle any of it anymore. My eyes are constantly stinging and it hurts so much, I don’t deserve this, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, with me, not at the look of me going crazy over you not texting me. I’ve been crying for hours and usually I’d run out of tears to cry, why is it that I keep gaining more this time?

Oh please, come back to me, I bear seeing anyone else with you. Our stupid conversations about getting married and lasting forever with eachother, why have you forgotten all of it?

I would’ve never thought i'd feel this way, i thought I loved my life and the only stress I had was school, why am I on winter break and going absolutely insane in the bathroom and in my room over a person like you.

I would’ve never thought id ever wanna die, why do I feel like it’s my only option to peace right now? Suicidal? No way! But I seriously can’t escape from the thought of you, I need you out of my life, but that would be worse, I just wish I never met you, that’s also a lie. I wish you never changed, I miss the times you would care about how I felt.

This month, December, is my worst year. I needed you most at this time, why did you make it harder for me, purposely? Remember when you got mad at me for playing with ___? Haha I was so sad you were ignoring me again and you admitted you didn’t wanna talk, I loved how overprotective you were acting, but why were you jealous about him when he treats me better than you? Why do I love you more than someone who treats me so much better?.

Wow, when I finished writing that, you checked my message. Dec 31 7:14. Opened. Let me guess, you’re gonna start apologizing “MY BAD MY MAD IM SO SORRY I GOT IN TROUBLE.”

And would you look at that, I wrote in my notes app:

Yup, just as a I thought, Jake: MB MY PARENTS TOOK MY PHONE. I sent this to him, all he had to say was he needed time alone and said “see u” when I said “byeee” what the hell. If I killed myself it wouldn’t be enough for this man..??? He doesn’t text me properly for almost a month and he needs TIME ALONE??? Ugh! Happy new years! I told him happy new years on 12 exactly and all he said was “thanks u to” and I said I was gonna become nicer and he said “cool” so I’m going to be straight up with him and ask if we are breaking up. I don’t wanna wait anymore t’il HE'S READY. All he said was no. Wth — His last words were; I love you so much, I'm sorry, I'll message you when i get the chance.

It’s safe to say, I really was going insane. He never texted me again in 8th grade after that—until, the summer before 9th grade. I remember how he asked if we could talk when I have time, he was in France by now by the way. I told him that I was surprised that I’m hearing him again, and said sure. All he had to say was, “I’m sorry for everything I did, I’m sorry for ghosting you and all, I was really going through it” I beg your pardon?

That’s all he wanted to talk about? Quickly, I respond with:

- you: No, Jake. I want to know what happend , why did you do that?

- Jake: I promise you, It was personal problems y/n

He was so stubborn, I know it wasn’t the reason, we would go through things but we’d go through them together—not the way he did it. But, i always saw the good in him, even in that moment, i wasn’t angry at him. When I was with him, he was amazing—so I always wanted to keep that image of him and not swifch up so quickly just because he ghosted me for practically a year now. But still, i had to do what I had to do so—I asked him the big question:

- You: you know, we never properly broke up, so, what is it? Do u still like me? You haven’t talked to me in forever, you’re supposed to answer this.

- Jake: you first

Not this again.

- you: Jake no. You’re the one who left so you’re the one who answers it.

- Jake: no no just please you first

- You: Jake. What do you want from me? opened.

There he goes again, that was for real the last message. I never heard from him again-

“next stop, _____ university” —

There’s the train—perfect timing.

Today’s a weird day—maybe because it’s snowing, maybe because its the month he first started acting weird. Usually, you think of him before bed, not during the entire morning… You miss him, it’s been a while—You still wonder where he is now.

Sometimes, you wonder if you should drop out of university and become a famous model—maybe then he could recognise you and reach out.

You can barely remember his voice, you lost all my old videos from before you even started texting—those were the times you actually heard him speak, the rest was small talk and then completely no contact. Even when you guys were dating, you never spoke in real life—too scared and nervous.

You're finaly off the train—heading to class now, exams are coming up. You never got to experience it with Jake since he left to go to high-school in France, did I mention that already? You say to yourself. Actually, he had never removed his name from your school so when you had attendance on the first day of nineth grade, he was called in every single one of your classes. What a coincidence, you had never gotten in the same class for two years but then could’ve got all your first semester classes with him if he hadn’t left—what a way to play with your reason to live.

University isn’t like highschool anymore—it’s quieter, people are more focused on themselves than things that people have to say about eachother. You have a small group of friends that you met In highschool, you're glad you're still in touch despite how many years it’s been.

9:09am—huh??? Your class starts in a minute, shoot!

You dont know why you rushed to get to class so quickly… it’s too boring, You're bout to fall asleep. As you were about to lay your head on the desk and doze off—you heard your professor mutter something a little interesting for once.

“Okay students, this doesn’t have to do with our major but the board entered my name to do a small project out of context. Today, and for the following month, there will be 15 people from this class and the class that starts in 2 hours who will travel abroad—more specifically to France-“

That’s all you needed to hear—you didn’t care about the rest, you heard France and knew that you were going to be participating in this activity. It’ll be fun, you say, i'll get to experience how Jake lived in France, you say. You say it all, with no intentions of actually meeting Jake. You just wanted to experience what he experienced, maybe it'd make you feel a little closer to him. Like always, you made everything in your life, about him. It’s like he was famous in your mind.

You needed a break from your current place anyway, everything was all over the place, you felt as if you’ve been living the same days over and over again. Maybe this was an opportunity to change things a bit—get you out of your comfort zone.

You signed up so quickly to the program my teacher talked about a few days ago. You already found a roommate to stay with for the time you'll be staying there.

The guy you arranged to live with was a little bit younger than you, but you didn’t mind—you just needed a place to stay for a bit. You soon learned that he goes to the same university that you’ll be studying in, which is nice—you’ll have someone to help you around everything.

You’re counting the days until you leave—you called with the roommate and found out a few extra things about him. His name was ni-ki, he was also a foreigner except he’s permanently staying there. He’s in the same major as you and as you exchanged schedules, you saw that you guys had 2/4 classes together—that’s nice, already got a buddy to be with for half of your classes!

You're now in France, heading to your apartment—ready to meet Ni-ki. Right before you can manage to knock, he opens the door—as if he was waiting for you by the door. "Hey," he speaks, his voice low and deep. He was tall and slim—it reminded you of Jake. You don't know how he looks like anymore, you haven't in a while. The last time you saw him, he was tall, above all the boys in your grade, you don't know anything about him anymore actually.

Before you could continue being lost in thought, Ni-ki speaks up once again. "How about you go get some rest, you look tired. You can tell me about your trip in the morning. Sounds good?" You nod, you were exhausted, the trip was long and you could barely close your eyes in the plane.

'Oh and, y/n, by the way, i'll invite some friends over for a bit, if that's alright with you?' 'yeah that's fine don't worry, I bet you i'll be so deep in sleep that I wouldn't even wake up if you guys bomb the place.' What a lie. You couldn't fall asleep at all.

right as you thought you were going to fall asleep, you heard the door burst open, the people Ni-ki invited finally arrived. You could hear like—five people? Oh wait—no—a sixth one—who.. Sounded a lot like—Jake.

You couldn't remember his voice but when you heard something like him—you just knew. What a great discovery, even if you were going to finally get some sleep—you definitely aren't now. You sat in the bed you were assigned to sleep in, listening to the boys downstairs chatting—the guy who sounded like Jake wasn't really talkative, maybe its not him—actually, you're sure its not him—you're just eavesdropping so that you could pretending that you're listening to Jake's voice.

In the morning, Ni-ki had to wake you up for your class because you were still used to your old timezone. 'y/n... we have class in like 30 minutes...' 'Five more minutes... Get off of me, let me sleep!' 'I'll rip up all your clothes if you don't get up.' 'What? What! Okay, okay I'm up!'

You both ran to class, your apartment wasn't on campus but it was still close. You were introduced to the first two classes with Ni-ki by your side, you followed him everywhere for those first two periods—but now, you two next are alone—and you have no idea where to go.

Luckily, you spotted one of your teachers from your morning classes, they had to go fill out some papers and correct tests so they couldn't give you a tour of the school—but guided you to Ni-ki's class so that he could be excused out of his class and help you.

You walked into his class behind your teacher, not bothering to look at anyone to try and find him—too scared you'll make awkward eye contact with anyone who isn't him.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your lesson, Chanelle, but could we please steal your student Nishimura Riki for a period? We have a new foreign student who knows him and needs a tour of campus." Your teacher said to the one who was currently teaching Ni-ki's class. "Oh why of course, and don't apologise, i needed this few second break..." She responded. "Nishimura, get down here"

As she called him over, you follower her eyes—trying to spot Ni-ki. Then, you found him, laying back on a chair with his feet on the table, surrounded by 6 boys—probably the ones from yesterday.

'Hey ni-ki, whos that girl next to the teacher? You know her?' The purple haired boy asked. Just as you were going to smile and wave at him, your eyes spotted one of the boys who stood out a bit brighter than the rest—due to his immersive stare at you. Jake. There he was. Yes you haven't seen him in a while, but those eyes never change. it really was him—right infront of you. It was Jake.

You didn't utter a single word—turning quickly and just waiting for ni-ki to get down. You always imagined what you'd do when you saw him again—you just didn't expect it ever to be like this.

In the afternoon, after both you and ni-ki got back to your apartment. You built up the courage to ask him, 'Hey, ni-ki, who were those boys you were with when I came into your class searching for you?' 'Oh them, those are my best friends. Heeseung, the purple haired one you heard, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Jake. We've been friends ever since i got here, but they've been childhood friends since they were little—except Jake, he came during highschool, but that's still a while ago! Y/n? Are you listening-' 'Yes! Yes! I am indeed!' 'Oh okay, well yeah. Actually, they're coming over again—i'll properly introduce you to them then!'

Excuse you? Coming over? Again? How many times do these boys come over? They just visited yesterday... "Again?" you spoke, voice a little lower than you hoped it'd be. "Yeah, they come over all the time, you'll love them, trust me!" He said, love filled in his eyes as he spoke about his friends—completely unaware of what you were currently thinking.

Minutes passed and suddenly, the doorbell rang. You instinctively froze, Ni-ki jogged to go get the door, leaving you in the living room alone, awkwardly waiting. "Guys, this is the girl from earlier, this is y/n, shes my roommate" One by one, they entered the room, you got up and kindly greeted all five of them—until it was turn for the sixth one who took a little longer to remove his coat after hearing ni-ki's words.

When it was Jake's turn, your heart sank, you looked at him from close up—he was different. His face had matured, his hair had thickened, He body looked a lot fuller and grown up than you last remember. A lot changed—but it was still so easy to tell it was him. Perfect nose, flawless face, the same eyes you fell in love with.

"Y/n?" Jake spoke, in a questioning tone, way lower than how he used to speak. You were surprised that he even said something, if you two were in 8th grade, he wouldn't even be able to look your way, head down as he walks past you to make it seem like he didn't see you—while you would stare at the lockers, the opposite direction of him. "Long time no see" was all you said, though your mind was saying alot more.

"You two know each other?" Jungwon asked as you both nodded. "What a small world!" Sunoo added.

The rest of the night was awkward, both you and Jake sneaking glances of each other, trying to admire everything that changed. We haven't seen each other in 10 years, It's normal. For a split second, you both had eye contact—his eyebrows lower than usual, his eyes in a weird shape, like if it was an apology.

He used to be so active, so energetic—but tonight, he was even quieter than when I heard him yesterday from upstairs.

Sunghoon and Heeseung requested to watch a movie. You tried distracting yourself by helping Jay pick out snacks from the pantry, but his gaze was burning you, you could feel it no matter what you do. All of a sudden, ni-ki requested Jake to go grab some drinks. As he walked past you to the fridge he whispered, "Y/n, can we talk?"

It was starting to get late, each member leaving, keeping you and Jake alone. You didn't want to talk in the apartment with ni-ki so you both requested going outside the apartment, take a little walk as you talk.

It reminded you of when you went on that field trip, walking downtown with lights everywhere, as if you were in a movie, as if the world was only you and him, nothing else mattered. After minutes of silence, he broke it, Jake finally spoke.

- I didnt expect to you again. He said

- I didnt either.

- I wanted to apologise for everything, I know i said that the last time we spoke, but i really mean it this time. I know that whatever the reason was, I should've never acted that way.

- But Jake, how many times have we been through this before? Its been 10 years and yet you still say the same thing. I don't even know why I'm still here, listening to you say all of this, even after all the time that passed.

- I know I was always wrong, i know. My parents forced me okay? They didn't think I'd be able to focus on my education if I kept talking to you. My graders were dropping and they thought it was because of you when really it was because i was fooling around with my friends. I know you asked me if it was because of my parents and I said no but I was just so scared I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to disrespect my parents either and tell you that they were telling me to leave you.

As you were trying to find the words to respond to him, he continued.

- I know i was a jerk, and i dont expect you to forgive me so easily especially that im saying all of this so late, I didnt know if you would want to ever see my face again anyway. I needed to say this all because i cant keep it in anymore.

At this point, he’s sobbing, unable to even walk anymore—he just sat there, on the side of the road. His hands covering his face and trying to wipe his tears as fast as he face—now, avoiding your gaze at all times.

You’ve never seen him like this, he never cried, never spoke about his feelings, he never thought he should because he wanted to look strong all the time. “okay Jake, I forgive you, I forgave you a long time ago, just please, get up Jake. Let’s go to your place, I can’t leave you like this, please.” You pleaded, feeling sorry for him. You knew he had a kind heart deep down despite everything, your heart ached at the scene in front of you.

You got to his place, helped him wash his face, his face flushed, embarrassed that he did all that after seeing you just once aft all those years. Everything was weird, despite the entire scene, everything was still unspoken, leaving plenty of things to discuss about.

As you sat him down on his couch, he said, "Y/n. I promise you for real this time, i'll tell you everything, I'll explain everything right now, I want to fix things even if it takes another 10 years to cure it all."

"Okay." you said, everything felt like the day you two confessed, explaining the unexplained, answering the questions you both were wondering about each other's actions back there.

Maybe it was going to take a while to get everything adjusted again, but you didn't mind, its not like you waited 10 years already, you know how to wait. None of that mattered right now, you were just relieved that finally—you have answers.

Maybe, it was worth it—having you famous in my mind.

[m4rs-ex3]

actually gonna take a mini break..... which could mean i won't go on tumblr at all or it just means i'll only be making simple posts and not reblogging, and it could be for the rest of the day or it could be for a number of days (this is significant i promise usually i would be yapping like CRAZY rn)

i don't like disliking my show. i don't need to hear about everything they did wrong when i want to be celebrating everything they've done right for 7 seasons. i can't expect everyone to decide that positivity is the only way and i can't expect people to not want to share their opinions when i can't seem to stop talking about my opinion on that. i don't want to do what i did when season 4 came out and i tried to forget tdp existed for months because i couldn't stand being a fan of something others didn't like. tdp is everything to me. i'm not letting this part of my life go because i care too much about what everyone else thinks. and i know that's nobody's fault but my own, but still. i'm hoping it dies down, but even if it doesn't, i just need to step back and remind myself why i love this show, and that that is all that matters.

i know it is NOT that deep but the finals week stress + mourning-in-advance + insane adrenaline rush and joy while watching followed by + immediate feeling of dread and incredible sadness and confusion and anger after i've already had a rough couple and months and tdp was the sole thing keeping me going, it has all just been a lot, as i'm sure you can imagine. it sounds so excessive and sensitive and it probably is those things, but it's how i feel. mainly i just really needed to get this off my chest lol

[queervegancryptid]

Seriously, academics and the like are flawed like the rest of us, so use critical thinking skills even when you're talking to an "expert" (obligatory disclaimer half because this is the internet and half because I majored in philosophy and am wont to quarrel about what exactly counts as an "expert" because my brain is wrong)

BUT

I promise that, in general, they will be very happy to talk about their work. Academics in particular, a lot of them I've known, don't get to pursue exactly what they want all the time. So when you engage with them on topics they actually have a background in, they sometimes forget how to act and infodump with the enthusiasm of your autistic friend who lights up talking about their special interests. All the ivory tower pretentious bullshit you sometimes have to cake onto yourself in that world, it can just crumble to dust with the force of their excitement about actually getting to talk about things that interest them rather than having to publish for publishing's sake or having to teach a course because someone in the department has to and it's their turn. (Seriously, I don't know if this is common knowledge, but that's actually how some departments run things: I taught the intro course last year, so it's so-and-so's turn next. See, for example, the dude who taught my intro to astronomy course. Lecture was a snoozefest. The planetarium and outdoor work? He was a different man. The final grades for the class had like a 40 point curve. It was kind of a mess. But it was cool when he actually wanted to be there.)

I used to say that was my favorite part of academia, but then I realized it's the main thing about that world that drew me in: I wanted a place where I would be expected and encouraged to explore in ways I wasn't allowed (or wasn't able, not having the resources and living in a small town) to do when I was a kid. It didn't work out the way I wanted it to, but that's a story for another post.

It's why I love libraries. There's a "bookmine" near me (I don't want to doxx myself naming it but DM me if you want and I'll elaborate) that I would fucking adore to roam for days and days. Or just nights. You know, sneak in and hide in this massive building full of books, wait for them to close and go home for the evening, and just go to town exploring various subjects. Also my partner would be there so we could gab to each other about our discoveries. I feel like a lot of people, academic types especially but not exclusively, can relate to this yearning to explore and share.

Don't feel like the only people worth talking to are folks with advanced degrees or prestigious titles, though. Academics can be easy to find relative to other kinds of experts, but good information can come from anybody. Not just somebody with an email address ending in edu. At the same time, beware of influencers and whatnot, obviously. Good information can come from anywhere, and the same is true of bad information. Someone saying things with a lot of confidence isn't necessarily telling you the truth and doesn't necessarily know what they're talking about.

Anyway. Send the email. I promise you're not bothering them by asking about the thing they literally got at least one advanced degree learning about on purpose (in the case of academics, but like I said, this can apply more broadly than that; read the room and shoot your shot, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays). I have a lot more to say about this and may even make a post to help people find experts in a given field of study and how to use responsible critical thinking skills and research methods more generally, especially if anybody expresses an interest in any of that. But I've babbled enough on somebody else's post lol I apologize and also it will happen again

Signed - your local autistic philosopher weirdo who just really really likes information and libraries and finding and exploring cool stuff and can't shut up about it sometimes

[bonebabbles]

Star Thoughts

I'm going to gather up all of my thoughts on the Arc as a whole in another post, but for now, I'll just drabble about my thoughts on the ending

I did not like it

I saw a lot of potential in this arc, and I was really optimistic to begin with. ASC actually got me back into WC after a long time away from it, and it was the impetus for me to really jump into the fandom.

But the ending really bites. It was going off the rails for a while, but Star in particular gave me a terribly empty feeling.

It wasn't entirely bad. There was some good in it. But not enough.

First of all, Berryheart.

I hate where they went with her. Sincerely, what the fuck.

We closed off the last book with Sunbeam feeling dread at seeing her xenophobic, radicalized mother taking deputyship in another Clan, thinking about how she will be absolutely ruthless towards foreign people she sees only as pawns

...and then that just gets dropped.

Berryheart reveals to ShadowClan cats that she's actually just teaming up with Splashstar to get rid of Tigerheartstar, but she talks too loud and her stupid ass plan gets reveled

And Splashstar is like "oooo i never trusted you anyway!"

Which gets Owlnose angry at her because "Harelight died because of you" BUT. WHY??

WHY DID THAT EVEN "NEED" TO HAPPEN. SPLASHSTAR JUST DID THAT

Why even take Berryheart in as a deputy?? Why was any of this necessary? How did any of this happen and what did Splashstar gain???

This whole thing feels like an idiot plot. Or, worse, a plot the writer doesn't have to justify because "Splashstar Craaaazy"

But anyway, a fight happens because Splashstar tells her to kill her sister Yarrowleaf and Berryheart says no

Sunbeam comes to help, Berryheart pushes her out of the way, gets a dumbass redemption death saving her daughter.

We already HAD one of these, it was Curlfeather at the beginning of the whole arc. I massively resent that Berryheart did a Dollar Store Curlfeather-- it cheapens what Curl did.

Even the way that Spireclaw rolls up to tell Sunbeam "yeah she was mean but she died saving u" just. Ooooooughhh.

SHE TRIED. TO KILL. YOUR WIFE.

BERRYHEART TRIED TO KILL YOUR WIFE WITH AN ADDER, BRO.

We SAW IT. On the SCREEN. She (Berryheart) (your mom) sent YOUR WIFE (Fringewhisker) (wife) through a PART OF THE GORGE (log bridge) (snake inside) (deadly) YOU KNEW WAS UNSAFE

The way the narrative is desperate to be sympathetic towards violent xenophobes through this whole book absolutely infuriates me, but Berryheart in particular is insufferable

We didn't need "mom heroically dies to save daughter" twice, and we definitely did not need Berryheart to be the one between the two characters to get showered in emotional flashbacks.

Frostpaw had 6 entire books to explore the complicated feelings she has for her mother, and slowly come to unpack them in a nuanced and satisfactory way

So Berryheart's felt tawdry and tacked on, to me.

And poor Fringewhisker, a victim of bigoted harassment for several books, barely gets any say about this. Her tormenter is gone, her mate is eager to forget the bullying, and Star doesn't give a hoot about how she feels on that.

That said...

It's not the idea of Sunbeam having complicated feelings about her mother's death that bother me. Most of those scenes are enjoyable.

I even like the way that Sparrowtail tells Tigerheartstar that Berryheart was the only cat he would ever betray ShadowClan for, and now that she is dead, it is the only thing he's loyal to.

It's that Berryheart had to die by saving her daughter, this "entitles" her to a protracted mourning session with her sacrifice at the forefront, while the narrative's sympathy for Curlfeather runs totally dry.

Just totally jacked Curlfeather's thing; that her ambition ends where her family begins. Man.

And Owlnose. Guy who killed her.

Owlnose what did they DO to you

I stopped liking him the minute he said that RiverClan was just following Splashstar's orders.

And the way he started lamenting how he wished he'd taken responsibility and become RiverClan's leader-- that was the moment i gave up on him.

This is not my beautiful wife.

It would have been one thing if he was constantly framed as pathetic and weak-willed, someone who stays away from power because he hates being stressed out and knows it...

But he becomes deputy at the end of the book, so, no. Everything he did was intended to be legitimately insightful.

I dislike him now.

Then again, I dislike most of RiverClan now.

Star's ultimate statement about the fact the whole Clan fell in line behind Splashstar is that "They Were Just Following Orders."

For those unaware, this is an infamously bad argument called The Nuremberg Defense. It is called that because it was very popular during the trials of Nazi officials who had taken part in the Holocaust.

The Nuremberg Defense, at best, can reduce the severity of your punishment. Pleading this still results in you being held accountable for your crimes.

Unfortunately this is not even the first time WC has posited the Nuremberg Defense unironically... but honestly it shouldn't have even happened once if they're going to botch it this badly!!

Throughout this book and the previous one, RiverClan was growing increasingly xenophobic. They beat the shit out of Wasp, steal kittens to hold as hostages from SkyClan and ShadowClan, try to drown Whorlpelt, and eventually attempt to publicly execute Nightheart.

This is all completely and utterly handwaved away with the death of Splashstar.

Xenophobia and radicalization are not properly addressed at all by Star. In fact, it misses the point so entirely that I have to believe it's on purpose.

He Made Them Bad :(

They all say sorry to the cats they did hate crimes to and it's ok :)

They were just following orders because Splashstar was threatening to kill babies. They Had No Choice.

I swear to god I really try not to throw around the term "idiot plot" lightly, but ALL of ASC from like Book 4 onwards has been Idiot Plot after Idiot Plot. I don't have any other words to describe this!! These characters don't THINK. Most of them seem to only have beliefs at all when the plot needs them to.

And like, circling back around to Splashstar, I honestly think calling all of this an idiot plot is being charitable, because the alternative is that the writing team is being horrifically ableist instead

They turn Splashstar into the stereotype of a "blood-crazed lunatic" in the blink of an eye.

He's yelling at a hallucination of Curlfeather's ghost, experiencing delusions about his righteousness, suddenly snapping and turning violent towards people, acting completely irrationally so he can do whatever the plot demands.

All the while, other cats are noting how he's "crazy" and has "gone mad"

It's REALLY bad.

It almost makes me miss the Evil Chick Tract Atheist of Book 5. At least when I'm getting shit on I know how to make it funny

His death is whatever.

There was a really ridiculous line about how the Clans are going to send an Eviction Notice Patrol to him to "inform him that he is no longer welcome at the lake, not kill him, because we must be better than him 😇💕" but at this point im used to Warrior Cats being Neoliberal Cats. Meowliberal.

And then they kill him lmaoo

Me when i send a Friendly Reminder Squad into Osama Bin Laden's house to let him know he is no longer allowed at McDonald's

I don't have strong feelings on Frostpaw being the one to kill him. I kinda wish it was someone else, but there's also no other worthy or fitting cats in RiverClan.

Just feels odd to me that Harelight died in 1 hit while Frostpaw, who has only really trained to fight for a short time, manages to end him. But whatever.

If I've been talking a lot about Frostpaw it's because she's the most interesting. Sunbeam and Nightheart have never felt more obviously out of place.

The book comes up with SO many excuses to separate Night and Sun that you could probably make a drinking game out of it.

This book needed more time on the editing floor. Errors aside (numerous errors), some chapters feel padded out by Sunbeam and Nightheart telling each other to leave

I feel like you could fill an entire chapter with the scenes of them saying the other should go. Like a Scooby Doo "LET'S SPLIT UP GANG" compilation.

enough has been said about Frostpaw's coma. Tree sucks, I hate how he barges into her dream to yell at her about how she needs to fix RiverClan.

I resent that no one hit the RiverClan cats who started whining about how Frostpaw needs to come back and fix their mess with a baseball bat.

I wish Frostpaw could fire a laser at them from heaven or something

Don't like the way that the narrative sets up Tree demanding she come back like a good thing, and Jayclaw telling her she's allowed to rest and make her own choices like a bad thing.

For the love of god let her have a crumb of autonomy

This book makes me wish I was a paper wasp so I could chew it up into paste and make a sculpture of the RiverClan symbol and then light it on fire, but it's not the worst WC book I've ever read. 4/10

[cuubism]

Can I pressure you to work on the 'having a job sucks ass' math AU fic?

yeah 😂 i started working on it when i was annoyed with my job. which is always

here's a snippet from earlier in the fic, because i think the later part i'm working on won't make a ton of sense out of context

[ make me work on one of my fics if you want ]

-

Dream shuts his laptop as Hob approaches. Oh, yeah. He was definitely waiting for Hob, specifically. Hob is getting the sense that he’s in trouble. And he’s not stupid. It’s not hard to guess what has Dream upset.

“Look,” he starts, “don’t even—”

“Hob Gadling,” Dream interrupts. Yep, that’s the trouble tone, the one Hob used to get when he did shit like giving himself a concussion playing pick up football on the quad. “It is ten p.m.”

“I own a watch too, Dream,” Hob says tiredly. Does Dream think he wants to be working this late? He’s just trying to stay employed.

Dream’s lips press into a thin line. And Hob knows him well enough, can read him well enough to recognize that what’s underneath the annoyance is concern. But what exactly does Dream expect him to do about it?

Hob sits down—more like collapses—into the armchair diagonal to where Dream is on the couch. God, what he really wants is to just fucking face plant into bed, not deal with this.

Christ. When did he start thinking about talking to Dream as dealing with?

Then again, this is less talking to Dream and more arguing with Dream, and he fucking hates doing that.

He scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s far away, alright?” he argues, though it sounds more like a whine. “It’s not like I can teleport.”

“It is not acceptable that they keep you so late,” Dream says. Then his tone softens. “I worry over your level of exhaustion. That is not even mentioning the commute.”

“Honestly, the commute’s not the worst part,” Hob says. “Gives me more time to get stuff done. Or fall asleep.”

Dream gives him a flat look. “Precisely.”

“I don’t want to hear judgment about work ethic from you of all people,” Hob snaps. God, he hates arguing with Dream, he hates it. It’s not like when they bicker. And it’s not like arguing with anyone else. The thought that Dream is upset with him is genuinely distressing.

“I think I of all people am uniquely qualified to give it,” Dream says.

He’s not wrong. Dream is a workaholic if ever there was one. It’s something Hob’s had to talk to him about in the past. Frequently, in the past, Hob was the one who was better about it.

It’s just that having this job is a level of relentless he couldn’t possibly have anticipated.

Hob can’t just quit though, even if he is overworked. It’s a good job, career-wise, and it pays really well, and he wants Dream to be able to keep his post-doc position without worrying about the salary because Dream is just quite frankly not cut out for anything where he isn’t able to work independently at least ninety percent of the time and Hob doesn’t want to see him suffer, and he wants them to be able to buy a house someday—

“Look,” he says, before Dream can suggest that he actually quit or something, “Dream, we’re making fucking bank, okay?”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “We are?”

“Yeah, we’re married, or did you forget?”

“It’s your money.”

“The joint bank account says otherwise. Half of it is yours.”

Dream frowns, then gets a wicked look in his eye. Oh no. “Does that entitle me to half of your suffering as well? Do I get half a say in whether it continues?”

“That’s not the point—”

“Are you going to watch me suffer half your exhaustion and do nothing about it?” Dream challenges, steamrolling right over him. He’s impossible to argue with when he really gets going. And great, now he’s employing that look. That pleading look that he knows Hob can’t say no to, eyes wide and helpless. “Will you leave me to my agonies?”

“Alright,” Hob says, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Enough. Stop joking around.”

“I’m quite serious. I don’t wish to see you suffer.” He crosses the room, kneels in front of Hob’s chair, and takes Hob’s hands, bringing them down from his face. “Your unintended comparison was more apt than you realize. When you prosper, I prosper. When you suffer, so equally do I.”

“Should have been a fucking poet instead of a mathematician, Dream,” Hob says. It shouldn’t come out as bitter as it does.

Except— “Maths is poetry,” he says, echoing it just as Dream says it, too. Hob had known he would.

It makes him smile, that he can predict Dream like that.

[writingwisterias]

How the different eras of Leon react when you tease them? (Wolf whistle, hand on their hip, slapping their ass, etc) gotta make that gorgeous man blush!!! >:)))

Hi Anon!

I bet he has the prettiest blush ever as well omg..

Warnings: Fluff, Teasing, I love Leon blushing sm he would look so pretty

GN!Reader

RE2:

I think it would be really funny if you slapped his ass whilst at home

Like hes still getting used to the whole domestic situation after Raccoon City

So let's say he's bent over to do something, vaugly forgets you are even there and then you slap it

He sort of like jolts slightly, definitely blushes like a dark pink blush

He whips his head around so fast in just pure shock only to be met with your wild grin.

Would also eventually get afraid to walk up the stares in front of you.

It's not your fault it's in your face and just so perfect and squishy.

You could never do it in front of people he knows, maybe a little squeeze if you are stood next to him.

Or even a small pinch if you walked by him

But he would get embarrassed by it and give you such a sad puppy look that it makes you feel bad.

RE4R:

So his arms right...HUGE

You just can't resist touching them.

Like you will come up to him and either poke it or like full on squeeze.

Get goosebumps if you use your finger to follow the outline of his muscles or veins.

The same with his hands, I know he's got the veiny hands underneath his gloves.

Will get flustered if you hold his hand and make sure all the blood runs to it so they really pop.

Also blushes if you leave little bite marks on his arms.

Infinite darkness:

He's not afraid to wolf whistle you so why can't you return it.

He does it all the time to you it's only fair

The only thing is, yours is louder

I think he acts like he wants to be the center of attention. Everyone knows who is so he's normally the center of attention anyway.

But if you whistle him and suddenly everyone stops what they are doing he'll glare at you

Impressed by the volume of the wolf whistle but will glare at you.

You will also do it if you leave him in an aisle at the store to go and get something but then you walk around to the other side and scare him with it

Like I'm saying full on jump you almost feel bad

Eventually gets the idea and will stop doing it to you as much

Damnation:

Piggy backs

I'm talking like you both head out to the bar to get drunk...of course he needs a drink buddy

You get so drunk that you can barely walk so you put your faith in him to either get back to your place or his place

Eventually he gives up and just crouched in front of you

Even though he's the one that initiated the action he's still like freaking out in his head

Because you trust him enough to get back safely

But he's also blushing because he loves the way that you are fitting on him and how you feel against him

RE6:

Sitting on his lap

Like doesn't matter if there's a chair free or whatever

Just perching on him optionally is enough to make this man blush

Because like what's the reason. His head doesn't compute

There's clearly a perfectly good chair why have you chosen to sit on his lap in front of everyone?

He's not arguing, like he's smitten

He loves the fact you like him enough that you'll just sit in his lap

But he just doesn't understand why

Vendetta:

Talking positively about him

Like not praising him to his face, but like just actively talking about him

Say your at a family event and he had a good mission

You're just boasting about how great he is at what he does

You know he hates the job and is struggling but everyone else seems impressed and almost thankful for his work

I think he would hate it, the fact you are talking about him in this way and its almost teasing to him because he feels like he doesn't deserve it

But when he actually takes in what you are saying he will blush and stutter because in his mind how can you say all of this about him?

Like he's just a drunk overworked agent in his mind

But in yours he's like a hero

Death Island:

Laying your head in his lap

Like first of all you are dangerously close to a certain area so you are teasing in that way

Secondly he's blushing because why are you so cute like this

His hand just instantly goes for hair and playing with it, stroking your head like some kind of cat

Imagine like everyone around and you just do it because you always do

And he's just awkward because he doesn't want his friends to think a softie but it's also comforting

But to make it worse you nudge your head back and accidentally brush against something that makes him very red in the face

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

I’ve been meaning to read this for ages but hadn’t gotten around to it so I’m very glad it came up in my reading Club!

I can tell you rn that I was not disappointed at all; that was some good shit. I think everyone would have a crush on music student jihoon lets be honest. I know I would 🥴

Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]

~

“ He's a music student ” sometimes that’s all it takes 🥴

“ And Seungkwan, well, he's practically a celebrity on campus with his charm and athleticism. ” yeah that checks out

“ sweet sounds that emanate from Jihoon's fingers as he plays guitar or piano ” oh those fingers could pull sweet sounds from some other stuff too 😏

“ "He doesn't even look like he fucks." ” nah the way I laughed at this tho  

“ How is Jihoon's cock? ” splendid, I imagine

“ and the potential for a romantic encounter tonight ” I don’t think romance is on her mind at all

“ Mingyu gives you a sly grin and nudges Jihoon in your direction. "Go on, hyung," he says encouragingly. "You've been wanting to talk to her all day." ” damn, should set up mingyu with that friend, two loud mouths tryna set people up

“ "And to be honest, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now." ” aw cutie

“ "I was expecting something else," ” well blurting out “I’ve been thinking about getting railed by you” isn’t exactly appropriate mr lee

“ Before Jihoon can react, you close the gap between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. ” GET SOME GIRL AYYY

“ "Oh, you have no idea," ” 😏😏😏😏😏

“ "But this time, I want you to be in the front row, not on the last chairs." ” once again; aw cutie

Crush on Music Student Jihoon

"So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?"

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me..."

— Synopsis: Where you have a little crush on the music student Jihoon. He definitively is not like the jocks from the campus, his quiet demeanor between his loud friends, calls your attention, and your friends tell you to let go of this crush once and for all. But Jihoon shows up to show you that your admiration for him was worth it. — WC: 5.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, dirty talk, praising, overwhelming, fingering, blowjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, public kiss, their friends having a heart-attack when they kiss, tears and sobs of pleasure, g'spot stimulation and etc.

So, here you are, finally in college. No more high school drama, no more teachers breathing down your neck, and no more petty cliques. It's like a whole new world, and you're loving every minute of it.

College is different. People here have their own inspirations, their own goals, and their own quirks. It's refreshing to be surrounded by so much diversity. You feel more mature than ever, like you're finally coming into your own.

But then there's Jihoon. Your friends won't let you forget about him. He's a music student, from the same campus, and apparently, he's got you feeling all sorts of things. They tease you mercilessly, saying you're acting like a girl in high school with a crush.

"Ah, Jihoon. He's always been the quiet type…" They say. You've noticed it too. While his friends are loud and outgoing, he's content to stay in the background, quietly observing the world around him. It's one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

But your friends don't seem to understand. They keep trying to push you towards guys like Dokyeom or Seungkwan, who are the complete opposite of Jihoon. Dokyeom, with his extroverted personality and vibrant energy, always seems to be the life of the party. And Seungkwan, well, he's practically a celebrity on campus with his charm and athleticism.

But as much as you appreciate their efforts, your heart just isn't in it. While your friends are off drooling over Mingyu at the football games, you prefer to sit quietly in the back of the university theater, listening to the sweet sounds that emanate from Jihoon's fingers as he plays guitar or piano.

You're sitting with your friends at lunch, trying to enjoy your meal while Jihoon's group of friends acts loud and rowdy as usual. Jihoon himself is sitting nearby, quietly changing papers, which you assume are lyrics for his music.

"So, when are you going to talk to him?" Hyeson asks, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. "I don't know, maybe when I feel like it," you reply nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Your other friend, Seungjun, chimes in, "Come on, you've been crushing on him forever. He's probably too shy to come and ask you out. Or maybe he's too busy burying his face in those ridiculous scores."

ou shrug, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just enjoy his music, that's all."

But your friends aren't buying it. They exchange knowing looks before turning back to you with raised eyebrows.

"Come on, you can't deny that there's something there," Hyeson says, leaning in closer. "Why don't you just go talk to him? What's the worst that could happen?"

You hesitate, chewing on your lip as you consider the idea. "I don't know... What if he thinks I'm weird or something?"

Your friend rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You've practically had the whole college eating out of the palm of your hand since you started to study here."

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck as she lays it all out there. "I don't know if I'd say that..."

But she cuts you off before you can finish. "Come on, Y/n. Let's be real here. You've practically dismissed every other guy in this place because you only have eyes for Jihoon. And you're worried about him thinking you're weird?"

The conversation about Jihoon continues to flow at the table, with your friend passionately expressing her opinions. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mingyu approaching. Your friend doesn't seem to notice, her mouth still going a mile a minute about Jihoon.

Quickly, you reach out and wrap a hand around her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. She widens her eyes in surprise, shooting you a confused look as Mingyu stands next to your table, likely coming over to talk to you all.

Mingyu starts talking about the upcoming football game this night, mentioning that there's going to be a frat party afterward. Your friend's ears perk up at the mention of Jihoon, and she can't help but blurt out, "Is Jihoon going to be there?"

Mingyu furrows his brow in confusion, glancing over at Jihoon who is still engrossed in his papers at the other table. "I don't know," he replies honestly. "It's been a long time since he appeared at one of our parties."

But then Mingyu's gaze returns to your friend, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Wait, why do you ask? Does someone here have a crush on Jihoon?" he asks, his voice a little too loud for comfort.

You widen your eyes in alarm, shooting a panicked glance at Jihoon and his friends who are now looking over at your table, clearly intrigued by the mention of Jihoon's name.

Your friend's eyes widen in shock, realizing that his question may have been a little too loud. "Um, well..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

But before she can come up with anything, Mingyu's gaze returns to Jihoon's table, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone has some explaining to do," he says, loud enough for Jihoon to hear.

"Oh my god, I fucking hate y'all…" 

[...]

As you make your way to the promised frat party tonight, your friend nudges you gently and says, "Come on, Y/n-nie, don't be mad at us. We're just having some fun."

You shoot her a playful glare before sighing and shaking your head. "I know, I know. I'm not really mad. Just a little nervous, that's all."

But your other friend chimes in, unable to resist poking fun at the situation. "Seriously, though, I still don't understand why you like him that much. He doesn't even look like he fucks."

You roll your eyes at her crude remark, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. Brushing away the thought of your recent fantasies about Jihoon, you try to play it off coolly. "Oh, please. You don't know anything about him."

But deep down, you can't deny the truth in her words. Jihoon may seem shy and reserved on the surface, but there's a fire burning beneath that quiet exterior. And just the thought of him touching you, of him fucking you, sends a shiver down your spine.

How is Jihoon's cock? Could he really fuck you like you've been fantasizing about? The image of him moaning beautifully as he sings, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings of his guitar, sends a wave of desire crashing over you.

You squeeze your legs tight together, trying to ignore the pulsing ache between them as you continue towards the party. Each step brings you closer to the possibility of seeing Jihoon again, of finally making your move.

But as you approach the frat house, the thumping bass of the music growing louder with each passing second, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind. Your friend's little black dress that she lent you, hugs your curves in all the right places, a departure from your usual style, but you can't deny that it looks amazing on you.

She had insisted that Jihoon would love it, teasing you about your "Jihonnie" and the potential for a romantic encounter tonight. You couldn't help but laugh at her antics, secretly hoping that she might be right.

But as you glance around the crowded place, your heart sinks a little. Jihoon is nowhere to be seen. You try to push down the disappointment, reminding yourself that there are plenty of other people to talk to and enjoy the party with.

You lean against the bar, swirling your punch in your hand as you chat with your friend. Her eyes suddenly light up, and she says something that makes you furrow your brow in confusion. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Mingyu walking towards you, with Jihoon by his side.

Jihoon walks with his hands in his pockets, his black shirt hugging his muscular arms perfectly, while his hair falls in his face in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. Your friend takes the hint and excuses herself, leaving you alone with the boys.

Mingyu gives you a sly grin and nudges Jihoon in your direction. "Go on, hyung," he says encouragingly. "You've been wanting to talk to her all day."

Jihoon's cheeks turn a faint shade of red as he leans against the bar with a sheepish smile. "Uh, hey," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the music. "Mind if I join you?"

You feel a rush of excitement as Jihoon starts a conversation, his shy demeanor only adding to his charm. "Of course," you reply with a smile, motioning for him to take a seat next to you.

As the conversation continues to flow between you and Jihoon, you find yourselves laughing and exchanging stories about your time at college. You're pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to talk to him, and before you know it, hours have flown by.

Suddenly, Jihoon pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eyes. "So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?" you ask, feigning innocence as you take a sip of your punch.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me," he admits, his eyes meeting yours with a shy smile.

You can't help but scoff at his comment, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. "You mean Mingyu mentioning your name out loud?" you reply, trying to play it off coolly.

Jihoon laughs and nods, his smile widening. "Yeah" he says with a nod. "I guess I've been on your friends' minds lately."

You chuckle, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you at the thought of Jihoon overhearing your friends teasing you about your crush on him. "Yeah, sorry about that," you say sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. "My friends can be a little... outspoken."

But Jihoon just shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. It's actually kind of flattering," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. "And to be honest, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now."

Your heart skips a beat at Jihoon's confession, and you feel a rush of excitement as you muster up the courage to admit your own feelings. "Yeah, I've been wanting it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, and he leans in closer, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Oh yeah? What have you been wanting to talk to me about?" he asks eagerly.

You feel a pang of panic shoot through you as you realize you hadn't prepared an answer to that question. You stutter for a moment, trying to come up with something to say.

Finally, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Um, your music project! It sounds awesome," you say, mentally kicking yourself for not being more prepared.

You can tell by the look on his face that he knows there's more to it than just his music project. And as the silence stretches between you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you.

"I was expecting something else," Jihoon says with a small, teasing smirk, his voice laced with mock disappointment.

A strange tension hangs in the air between you, and you can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You wish you had been more honest with him, you can't help but wonder if this awkward moment has ruined your chance with him. With a heavy sigh, you take a sip of your drink.

You feel the unease settling in, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realize the gravity of the situation. Are you really going to lose this chance? Are you really going to ruin this opportunity?

Hell no.

Your hand clenches around the red cup with more force as you weigh your options. Taking a deep breath, you muster up the courage to speak, determined not to let this moment slip away.

"That's not what I meant," you say, meeting Jihoon's curious gaze with determination.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

"No, I mean, your songs are really awesome," you clarify. "But I have one more thing to say."

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his ear as you whisper softly, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Before Jihoon can react, you close the gap between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, your bodies pressed together in an electrifying embrace.

Jihoon responds eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matches your own. In that moment, there's no awkwardness, no tension, only the undeniable chemistry between you and Jihoon igniting into something fiery and intoxicating.

You break the kiss, your lips still tingling with the remnants of his touch, feeling flushed, satisfied, and breathless. A sweet taste lingers on your palate as you lean against Jihoon's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Jihoon's breath is ragged as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and adoration. "Let's get out of here," he says softly, his voice husky with emotion. "Before our friends have a heart attack."

You glance over at Mingyu and your friends, who are practically collapsing with shock after witnessing your kiss. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Jihoon's hand intertwining with yours brings you back to the present moment.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his quick thinking, and allow him to lead you away from the crowded room. As you step outside into the cool night air, a sense of freedom washes over you, and you find yourself smiling up at Jihoon.

"Sorry about that," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice as you squeeze his hand. "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

Jihoon just chuckles softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "No need to apologize," he murmurs, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'm just glad I finally got to kiss you."

"You should have kissed me before," you tease, nudging Jihoon playfully as you walk together across the campus, heading towards the dorms.

Jihoon chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "Oh, really? And risk giving our friends a heart attack sooner?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes at his response, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fair point," you concede, leaning into his side as you continue to walk. "But you could have at least hinted that you wanted to kiss me earlier."

Jihoon's smile softens, his gaze turning tender as he looks down at you. "Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were the one making all the moves," he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, swatting at his arm playfully. "Hey, I can't do all the work," you retort, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's about time you stepped up your game."

Jihoon chuckles, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "Well, consider this me stepping up," he says, his voice low and husky as he pulls back to meet your gaze. "And trust me, I have plenty more where that came from."

As you and Jihoon approach his dorm, the air is charged with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, filled with laughter and teasing banter as you navigate the familiar paths of the campus.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to make up for lost time?" you ask with a playful smirk, nudging Jihoon's side as you walk.

Jihoon chuckles, his eyes glinting mischievously as he glances over at you. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you reach his dorm door, Jihoon suddenly stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a wicked grin. Before you can react, he slams you against the door with a sudden force, his hands grabbing your ass firmly as he leans in to kiss your neck.

A gasp escapes your lips as his lips trail along your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel his warmth radiating against you, his strong arms holding you tightly as you cling to him, your hands gripping his biceps desperately.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon grabs the door handle and swings it open, pulling you into his room with him. The moment you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, and you find yourselves enveloped in darkness, save for the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Unable to detach your bodies from each other, you stumble forward, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. Jihoon's hands roam freely over your body, igniting sparks of desire with each touch, while your own hands explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt.

Jihoon's eyes search yours, filled with desire. "Tell me," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow in confusion for a moment before he repeats himself, his tone more insistent this time. "I want you to tell me, with words."

You feel a thrill run through you at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, your lips still brushing against each other as you melt into his embrace.

For a moment, you're lost in the sensation of being so close to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to find the right words to express how you feel.

And then, before you can respond, Jihoon speaks again, his voice teasing and playful. "Come on, Y/n-nie," he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me."

You can't help but chuckle at his bold request, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at the thought of indulging his playful banter. "Why?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Are you planning to use this in your songs?" you ask breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands slip under the fabric of your little black dress, hands find their way to your breasts.

Jihoon laughs at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he shakes his head. "Who knows?" he replies with a smirk. "But I think I'd much rather hear it from your lips than write it in a song."

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk playing on your lips. "Fine," you say, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "But you're going to owe me for this."

With a sly grin, you reach down and find the waistband of his pants and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. Jihoon gasps in surprise as his pink, big cock springs free, standing shiny and eager in the dim light.

You can't help but let out a low moan at the sight, desire coursing through you as you gaze hungrily at him. "God, I wanted this cock so bad," you whisper, your voice dripping with desire. "I've been dreaming about it for so long."

As Jihoon holds back the urge to roll his eyes at your words, you lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt as he tries to steady himself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. "Hmm Y/N yes!" 

With a hungry desire, you take his cock into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his hardness as you work him with eager enthusiasm. Jihoon's hands tremble slightly as he holds onto his shirt, his moans growing louder and more desperate with each movement of your mouth.

Feeling your own arousal building with each passing second, you can't help but reach down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as you slide your fingers into your dripping wet pussy. You can't help but moan around Jihoon's cock as you pleasure yourself.

Jihoon's moans grow even louder at the sound, his hips bucking involuntarily as he struggles to hold back his release. "Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he says, head thrown back. With each thrust of your mouth and each stroke of your fingers in your pussy, the tension in the room grows thicker, until finally, with a loud cry, Jihoon reaches his climax, his hot cum spilling into your mouth.

As you swallow eagerly, relishing the taste of Jihoon's release, you feel a surge of ecstasy coursing through you. But before you can fully enjoy the moment, Jihoon's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Stop," he says, his voice hoarse with desire.

You reluctantly remove your hand from between your legs, your fingers still slick with arousal as you look up at Jihoon with glazed eyes. He takes your hand in his, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards his bed.

Your dress is now bunched up around your waist, the fabric clinging to your skin as Jihoon manages to remove his shirt with trembling hands. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he presses you gently onto the bed, his hands roaming over your exposed skin.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he explores every inch of your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss, the sensation of his lips making you feel rewarded.

As Jihoon's hand finds the fabric of your panties and tugs them down your legs, throwing the piece away, you shiver with anticipation, your arousal pooling between your thighs. His fingers find your sopping wet cunt, and you moan at the slight touch, your body trembling with desire.

With a wicked grin, Jihoon leans in close, his voice low and husky as he begins to dirty talk to you. "You know, Y/n-nie," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you all those times you sat in the auditorium, watching me play."

You gasp at his words, the memory of those moments flooding your mind as you feel a surge of heat spreading through you. "I loved knowing you were there, looking at me, wanting me." Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with desire. "I couldn't help but wonder what was passing through your little filthy mind as you watched me." 

"Did you imagine me touching you, pleasing you, making you scream my name?"

His words send a surge of desire rushing through you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. With a desperate need, you arch your hips towards him, silently begging for more as you lose yourself in the intoxicating heatness of Jihoon's dirty talk.

s Jihoon's fingers sink inside your pussy, you let out a gasp of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming your senses. Your mouth opens to answer him, but all that escapes is a string of expletives as pleasure washes over you.

"Fuck!" you swear, your voice strained with desire as Jihoon's fingers move inside you. The sound of your arousal fills the room, loud and squelching as his fingers slide in and out, your wetness coating his hand with each delicious thrust.

His movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke driving you closer and closer to the edge. You squirm beneath him, your body writhing with pleasure as ragged gasps leave your lips. With each movement of his fingers, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment.

And as Jihoon continues to drive you wild with his fingers, his voice fills the air with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Fuck," he breathes, his words heavy with longing. "Everyone told me to take action, but..."

But what? You find yourself holding your breath, waiting for Jihoon to finish his sentence. But he doesn't say anything else, leaving the words hanging in the air between you, tantalizingly unfinished.

You can feel the tension mounting, the anticipation building as you wait for Jihoon to speak again. But instead of words, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But now that I have you like this, begging for more," Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with lust, "I never want to let you go." 

The admission sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, knowing that Jihoon has been thinking about this moment just as much as you have. 

As Jihoon pumps his fingers inside you, you grip his forearm tightly, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. Your head spins with pleasure, and your stomach flutters with anticipation as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Every sensation is overwhelming, from the scent of his cologne to the intensity of his gaze, to the sound of his voice saying all those filthy things that send shivers down your spine. You're lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, unable to think about anything except the pleasure coursing through your veins.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel yourself tensing, your pussy throbbing and clenching around Jihoon's fingers. He senses your impending release and curls his fingers inside you, sending you over the edge.

"And I promise," Jihoon murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin, "I'm going to make you feel so good, Y/n-nie. You won't be able to think about anything else but me."

You arch your back, a pornographic moan escaping your lips as you cum around his fingers, your juices coating his hand and forearm in a sticky mess. The intensity of your orgasm is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and trembling in Jihoon's arms.

"You're amazing," Jihoon continues, his voice low and sensual. "The way you moan, the way you tremble beneath my touch... It's driving me wild."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at the thought of Jihoon being so captivated by you. His praise is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you find yourself craving more with each passing moment.

"Can I fuck this pretty pussy, hm?" Jihoon asks, his voice low and filled with desire, as he flips your clit with his thumb.

You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as pleasure shoots through you. "Yes, please," you whisper, your voice thick with need.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you sure you can handle it?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimper at his words, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you. "Yes," you moan, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you to fuck me until I can't take it anymore."

As Jihoon's tip presses against your slit, you quiver with anticipation, feeling the wet folds parting to welcome him inside. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he guides his cock deeper inside you.

You moan into his mouth as he enters you fully, his length stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. A gasp escapes Jihoon's lips as he sinks into you, the sensation overwhelming both of you with pleasure.

With his cock buried deep inside you, Jihoon opens his mouth in a gasp of ecstasy, his breath hot against your skin. You whimper at the sensation, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you as he bites your chin lightly, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

As Jihoon moves inside of you, his hips rolling with a rhythm that drives you wild, you can't help but cling to him desperately, your hands finding purchase on his back as he fills you up so perfectly. The previous orgasm has left you sensitive and achingly aroused, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you with ease.

You look into his eyes, lost in the depths of his gaze, feeling a connection that transcends words. His necklace brushes against your face with each thrust, a reminder of his presence, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

Tears stream down your face, mingling with the pleasure and overwhelming sensation of having him finally inside you. It's not a dream – Jihoon is here, fucking you with a passion that leaves you breathless and shaking.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of ecstasy as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure, every movement of his hips sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You hold onto him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the wave of sensation, knowing that this moment will stay with you forever.

As Jihoon's cock hits your G-spot, you arch your back in ecstasy, the pleasure overwhelming you as you cling to him desperately. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

But then, a sob escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation bringing tears to your eyes. Jihoon hears your sob and responds by thrusting in the same way, driving you even closer to the edge of pleasure.

You sob even louder at the sensation, the pleasure so intense that it's almost unbearable. But Jihoon is there for you, cooing softly as he continues to move inside you, his touch bringing you both pleasure and comfort.

You call out his name, your words babbling as you try to express just how good it feels. "Jihoon, it's too good," you whimper, your voice thick with desire. "Too good..."

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he holds you close. "I've got you, Y/n-nie. Just let go and feel it."

As Jihoon turns you around and pushes your head onto the pillow, you let out a scream of pleasure, the intensity of his thrusts overwhelming your senses. With each movement of his hips, you feel yourself weakening, surrendering completely to the pleasure coursing through you.

Jihoon's thrusts are intense, his cock driving deep inside you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. His hands tremble as he grabs onto you wherever he can, his moans mingling with yours.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel it – the tightening in your stomach, the trembling of your muscles as your pussy walls hug Jihoon's cock tight. He spasms with pleasure everytime you clench around him. 

As you feel the wave of pleasure building inside you, you grip the sheets and pillows tight, your body convulsing with the intensity of the sensation. Jihoon continues to thrust into you with the same relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each movement of his hips.

And then, it happens – you cum on his cock, your entire body trembling with the force of your release. A long, exasperated cry escapes your lips as you convulse around him, your pussy gushing with wetness as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Jihoon watches you in awe, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he sees you spasming and creaming around his cock. He holds himself back with every ounce of willpower he has, determined to wait until you're fully satisfied before allowing himself to succumb to his own release.

But as he feels you tightening around him, the sensation driving him to the edge of control, he knows that he won't be able to hold out much longer. With a guttural groan, he lets go, his own climax crashing over him in a tidal wave.

As Jihoon rides out his climax, his cum mixing with yours as it drips from your pussy, the sound of the messy aftermath echoing around the room. You both collapse onto the bed, spent and breathless, the intensity of your orgasms still coursing through your veins.

The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a tangible reminder of the passion that has consumed you both. But as you lie there together, wrapped in each other's arms, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As Jihoon plays with your hair, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between you, he asks softly, "Are you going to continue watching me play in the auditorium?"

You smile up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him perform again. "Of course," you reply without hesitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jihoon's eyes light up with a hint of mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Good," he says, his voice filled with determination. "But this time, I want you to be in the front row, not on the last chairs."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of being so close to him while he performs. "I'd love that," you murmur, your heart pounding in anticipation.

[t-folklore13]

Curly hair - Eddie Munson

18+ MDNI

Warnings: insecurity, overthinking, ridiculous amount of fluff

Summary: you straighten your hair for the first time to impress Eddie

Not proofread!

Friends to lovers

~

I wake up in the morning and remember what Eddie had said to me the last time I saw him “your hair is so curly” I know it was supposed to be a compliment but for some reason that voice in my head was telling me all the worst things, that he actually meant it in a bad way like it’s too curly, too big

I look over at the time and see that it’s four am. I’m wide awake so might as well do something to get ready, as I get in the shower I stare at my mousse and my moms hair straightener

Contemplating the time I take a super fast shower making sure all the soap is out of my hair and blow dry, After an hour and a half it’s finally done my hair is straight and I feel excited to see Eddies reaction to it,

Going downstairs my mom shrieks “Omg honey! You straightened your hair!” I pour cereal and shrug “yeah I had the time and haven’t done it in a while” grabbing my hair she rakes her hands through it “oh it’s so beautiful I’m sure Eddie will love it” my eyebrows shoot up and I almost choke

“Eddie? What are you talking about” laughing she puts away the box and starts walking to the front door “I think you forget I was a teenager with curly hair too” I smile and grab my bag rushing to follow her

*

Getting out of the car I sling my bag over my shoulder and start waking to the entrance when I see robin “hey did you know we have a quiz tomorrow because-“ she stops and stares at me jaw dropped “Your hair is straight!” I laugh and she, like my mom grabs my hair “oooh eddies gonna freak” I roll my eyes and smile “why does everyone think I did this for Eddie maybe I just wanted a change”

“If you wanted a change you would’ve called me first and we would’ve been on the phone so long it would be too late for a change so this was a last minute decision made for a certain someone” I huff knowing she’s right and we start walking to Clicks class, “hey nice hair” I look back and see max rushing up to us

“Thanks red I did it-“ robin cuts in loudly “for Eddie she did it for Eddie” hitting her I scoff “what I was going to say was I did it this morning” max shakes her head “I was gonna say it looks sick but I gotta go talk to mike about el hanging with me I hope Eddie likes it” my shoulders dropping I laugh yelling down the hall “that’s not why I did it!” She laughs yelling back “sure!”

Finally getting to clicks class me and rob sit down when I hear a bubbly voice behind us “Hey I love your hair today” I turn and see Chrissy Cunningham “oh uh thanks Chrissy I like yours too” she smiles and sits next to Jason “okay I know she’s nice but that was kinda weird don’t you think” I shrug “kinda but hey let’s see how many people actually notice”

Not even five minutes pass when I hear “hey robin oh my your hair is so pretty it must’ve taken ages!” I look up and see “strawberry” which is what robin calls Vicky when she rants about her “oh thanks Vic!” She smiles and robins jaw drops “okay I woke up extra early to not look stupid today and all she says is hi but you straighten your hair and she talks to you longer then she’s talked to me”

I rub her arm and smile “if it makes you feel better she ls staring at you right now” she smiles and turns bright red “shut up”

*

Four class periods and ten compliments from people I’ve never talked to which I guess is nice but the only person I want to hear it from is Eddie walking to lunch I see Dustin and Mike and they walk past me which is really weird till I hear there conversation stop, I turn around and so do they when they erupt with questions “Omg I didn’t even recognize you your hair looks so cool how did you do it? Did it take a long time?”

“Thank you dusty but I just straightened it” Mike interjects with pushing him to the side before he can ask anymore questions “woah eddies gonna freak” I laugh and touch my hair “everyone’s been saying that but what if he hates it”

“No way if we like it then he will too!” My nerves calm down with Dustin’s point when we see Will “Dude I didn’t even know that was you I thought some new girl that didn’t know any better was talking to these two” he gestures to them and laughs “it looks so cool but I’m starving so let’s go eat

Walking into the cafeteria I see Eddie but he’s reading some magazine probably about how d&d is for satinets, walking up he looks up for a second and is about to look back down when he snaps his head up, he looks confused almost sad but why would he? “Hey Ed’s watchu reading?”

“Oh um just something about d&d did you get food? It’s mystery meat today” I laugh but feel all the doubt rushing back and want to cry when Gareth and Lucas walk up “woah cool hair man are you tryna go popular on us?” I smile feeling a bit better at gareths comment “no I just felt like I need a change for a few days” Lucas smiles and nods understanding what I’m saying since Erica does it all the time

“It looks really pretty don’t you agree Eddie?” We all look at him and he smiles “oh uh yeah you look beautiful” he looks right back down and the boys look at each other confused, the way he said it made it sound like he was confused or he just genuinely didn’t care I start to spiral a bit and stand up “hey I um I gotta go” I smile at Lucas with tears in my eyes as I’m walking away I hear

“Dude what the hell you made her cry” a chair skidding across the floor is the last thing I hear when I close the door, trying to find the closet empty classroom, I find the hellfire room and rush in finally breaking down

I hear the door open and close looking up I see Eddie “hey sweetheart I’m so sorry” he sits down next to me on the floor and holds me “I’m so sorry your hair really is beautiful I really do like it” sniffling I wipe my eyes and look at him “then why are you acting like you don’t care I’ve gotten so many compliments today and I was most excited for your reaction but you didn’t even care”

“But I do care I care so much that’s why I had that reaction” now im really confused “I was thinking about it what i said yesterday about your hair I meant it in a good your really fucking beautiful way and when you came to school with your hair straight I thought maybe you did it because of what I said and I was quiet because I felt like such a dick” sighing really deep and wrap my arms around him

“I love you Eddie but that really hurt me” he kisses my forehead and rubs my back “I’m so sorry I just really love your natural hair I love the way it curls and how pretty it is because you looks so beautiful” I smile and look at him “do you really mean that?”

“Yes I do and please believe me when I say you are so beautiful right now as well” I sit up a bit and look at him then his lips “Eddie I think your pretty-“ he cuts me off with a kiss and holds the back of my head “so pretty” I smile and kiss him again a bit slower this time “is this the part where you ask me out and we skip school?”

“Yes” he grabs my hand pulling me up and we rush out the door before the lunch bell rings

*

As robin is helping me get ready for my date I look at myself and smile seeing my curly hair again “as much as I liked your straight hair this is so much more you” I hug her and hear the front door open “oh god my mom is gonna scare him away” we laugh and run downstairs

Eddie looks right at me and smiles “hey there’s my girl you all ready to go?” I hug him and nod “let’s go before my mom threatens you” he laughs and we walk to the van “I want her back eventually!”

“Okay robin will do!” He opens the door for me and I climb in laughing while he jogs around the van “hey sweetheart? I really love your hair” I smile and we drive away

[tumbleweedsthesecond]

CLONE HIGH CLOTHING SWAP!!(I'm gonna lore drop abt them but more importantly Anna )

Yayy lore time. So Anna is the clone of Anastasia Romanovna but she says she's the clone of Anastasia Romanov. This is because the other Anastasia Romanov is more well known and I like to include historical references in stuff. From what I know her body was never officially found, she was considered a mystery she was important because of that. Many people think she lived and escaped instead of being killed. Some people also pretended to be her or tried to for money from the aunt as is shown in the Disney movie. specifically Anna Anderson I think which is why I nicknamed her Anna. (If anyone needs to correct me on some of this stuff Ik its been a while since I've done research on the topic I've been researching other stuff.)

When Anna was cloned her foster father believed she was that Anastasia, so up until she was like 11 or so she believed she was Anastasia Romanov, she felt important. She watched the movie and loved the idea of being a princess, of being the one everyone was waiting for. Until one day scudworth told her she was wrong and got the names mixed up. So Anna saw Ivan and cried her eyes out. She didn't want to be the clone of some guys wife. She wants to be more important than that and not live in his shadow. She thinks she's important and seeing her dad disappointed about that really hurt her. So she decided that she was going to just cope. She'd forget everything scudworth said and live that lie. And it felt great for her, she brags about it alot. Though she's gone so far into coping she does almost believe it. because of that she's obsessed with popularity and living up to the real Anastasia Romanov. She wants to be famous, she studies hard and everything. She's even a cheerleader. Because of the coping thing it does make her view other people just as extensions of their clone parents. She thinks everyone thinks the way she does cause she's preppy. Also on why she expects people to be extensions of the clone parents is also due to some self loathing because of who she really is. That doesn't make her any less annoying though but I forgive her❤

Orginally Anna and Ivan were a ship because she couldn't fight her genes or whatever that's been erased actually I decided it'd be more interesting of she was a lesbian. ivan and her are still rivals. She doesn't know she's a lesbian yet tho cause comphet she's also Topher stepsister!! Basically they hate hate each other at first for obvious reasons and Topher even blackmails Anna. Then he does reveal who he's a clone of and she full on ignores him and calls him disgusting for like a week. But eventually they talk and they become a little closer? Anna starts understanding people aren't just their clone parents and she still like trying I guess? Topher also learns to not blackmail her so yay They have some solidarity, a little. They still don't like each other but its more in a sibling way.

Okay now Fyodor. Gonna guess no-one(but like one person) knows who Fyodor Basmanov is. I learned about him through some movies, basically Ivan the terrible had this alleged male lover. He was in the Oprichnina, like a secret police Ivan had made, and he rose in ranks fast. He was known as the favorite of the Tsar many people thought they were a thing(probably). There was rumors he'd wear skirts and dance for Ivan and stuff. Whether or not that's true in the Ivan the terrible movies he's in they actually do address it. In the 1940s two part one he sings this song abt killing people in a dress and a mask that is supposed to resemble Anastasia Romanovna in the beginning of the film. Which is actually why I made them do a clothing swap in the post. In the 1991 version he is sooo pretty and I can't understand everything in the film because no subtitles but I was able to get some context to what was happening. The story from what I know goes Fyodors the favorite and he uses that alot over other people, he sits next to the Tsar during meals and stuff, poisons people for him etc, then he tries to trick this other guy to get rid of him with witchcraft but word got back to Ivan and now they think Fyodor committed treason. So hes like no not me!!come on Ivan listen to me I'll tell everyone about us or something like that I don't know I could only understand some and he's dragged away. Real Fyodor apparently did get accused of treason by Ivan and he was ordered to kill his father. Some say then Fyodor was executed others say he was just sent away I don't know what really happened. Shrugs. Anyway

I made a clone of him just because I can ❤yay❤ he's Ivans ex friend they don't hang out anymore because Ivan thinks he's better than him. Fyodors just a chronically online guy that uses discord too much(gamer). He wears skirts too not for Ivan just cause I like gnc characters. Yay❤. Also Ivan and him weren't a thing though Fyodor probably does have a crush on him for a bit, the most Ivan does for him is buy him discord nitro. Which he doesnt do anymore. Fyodor does still sometimes try be friends with the bleacher creatures mainly cause sometimes he feels like he's nothing without Ivan so. Yeah. He's unsuccessful tho he's annoying af. He's cringe. He thinks it's funny tho

Anyway just realized I made three clones of Ivan the terrible lovers and I don't ship any of them with him(Maria's the third ill post about her another day. Her and Anna get together tho) this guy had like eight wives. I should really just clone all of them and make them a polycule(minus Ivan ofc) this is why I shouldn't study historical figures

[beemovieerotica]

I just saw your post (one of? ) where you discuss your OCD symptoms, and they sounded... Familiar, for lack of a better word. I went into a therapist recently for anxiety and intrusive thoughts, and she wanted to evaluate me for OCD. My dad has diagnosed OCD, and I don't think that my internal experiences match his at all. I really feel like I just have stress-correlated anxiety. Do you mind talking about what your OCD experience is like, for comparison?

oh 100% my ocd ramps up a lot with stress. I have a lot going on but basically ocd can attach itself to anything in your environment and create reasons for why it is an existential threat. anything can be a trigger.

there's also a distinction where people may do none of the habitual compulsions (like physically checking things) and it's all just things revolving in their head - this is a lot of what I have. but yeah here are some more common symptoms / subtypes im familiar with that do get screened for by specialists:

intrusive thoughts like horror movie imagery throughout the day

spiraling what-if catastrophe scenarios that go on for minutes at a time where I just kind of blank out and get wrapped up in an extremely vivid and distressing daydream that feels like it's actually happening. like I will straight up start grieving for someone who is not dead.

superstitions/very specific fear-based beliefs that go beyond what would be typical for the person's religion. centered on blasphemy, moral goodness, purifying one's thoughts, punishing one's self, believing you deserve retribution/death, etc

believing that you're going to hurt/kill yourself and having obsessive suicidal thoughts. suicidal ocd is different from actual suicidality but a lot of providers don't know this or that it needs to be treated differently - it can lead to highly avoidant behavior like not wanting to use kitchen knives or being near ledges out of fear that you will do something.

questioning your memories of the past. being convinced that something horrifying and traumatic happened to you but you just can't remember it, obsessively analyzing memories to try and fill in the gaps. you can develop false memories in this process.

persistent fear of forgetting things, needing to feel like you have to remember everything all the time to avoid catastrophe

re-playing conversations word for word in your head hours or days after something happened over and over assessing everything that happened to try and figure out the precise way in which you fucked up

no amount of re-checking can reliably convince you that you haven't fucked up, or maybe you do get a moment of peace before something else takes its place

also, I heard somewhere that having 1 parent with ocd gives you a 50% chance of developing it...ough.

[sundrop-writes]

I am sooooo late replying to comments, but I have been feeling like crap so I am just now crawling out of my hole. And I know that Star isn't gonna mind that I'm late <3 anyway, here we go:

Star: I just LOVE these scenes of characters getting "caught" in a secret relationship (even if it's a fake relationship)

Sunny: okay but characters being 'caught' doing something that they 'shouldn't be' is SOOOO ICONIC. especially when what they're doing is not actually illegal or that immoral, they just feel like they need to hide their relationship and feel so caught out when other people find out. it is such a great trope (I really need to write it more). I especially love it when it's like "my super protective older brother can't catch us dating because he will kill you" and then the older brother catches them, attacks, and it prompts "don't hit me, okay, I love her!" and this is the first time that brooding emotionally disconnected love interested has ever said The Big L in front of his girlfriend. IT HIIIITS HARD

Star: "They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back" don't be shy... put them on 🫣

Sunny: we need to see Stiles in panties at some point. we really really need to do a Pantyboy Stiles fic at some point. SECRETARY, PUT THAT ON MY SCHEDULE. oooooh IDEAAAAAAAAA - Stiles wearing panties, FORGETS HE IS WEARING THEM (would be such a Stiles thing) and goes to change after practice (maybe after a cross country running practice via S3?) and because he was late, the only other person in the locker room is Isaac, and Isaac sees the panties and will not let him live it down. teases him so badly, but because it's Horny Isaac, the mockery quickly turns into horny teasing, and when stuttering Stiles accidentally lets it slip that he was only wearing the panties because you, his girlfriend, likes it when he does, Isaac's brain goes nuts because you're a hot girl and you're kinky - and he knows immediately that he wants a threesome. (I feel like I need to write this fic now. I need to write it).

Star: “Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked" STOP PRETENDING YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED DANNY !!! A LITTLE TOO QUICK TO THINK OF STILES WEARING PANTIES !!!

Sunny: Danny is a gossipy bitch. He isn't super interested in Stiles, he just loves to talk shit. Also I mentioned Stiles wearing red because of that one TV show where Dylan wears a red lingerie set lmao

Star: "Seriously?” Isaac asked" hi baby !! not that I'm not happy about it but... have you .. always been here ...? hello (WAS HE HERE FOR THE DRAFT ???? every new Isaac line I'm like... "hi how long have you been here for?")

Sunny: this is hilarious to me because I know you didn't read the A/N where I was talking about the fact that I added Isaac in here just for my own fun - because when I wrote this, we were only on the early episodes of season 1 and Isaac doesn't come in until season 2 so I didn't have him in this draft. But I am very glad that I added him <3

Star: "Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes" KSKSKSKS Isaac getting the spank bank ready AS WE SPEAK

Sunny: it's a lil treat for me <3 but I fucking love the idea of locker room talk perv Isaac

Star: “Ew! Why do you have them?” a hot girl cutting Jackson off with a very loud "EWWW" is very healing to me, you're so right diva...

Sunny: this reminds me of that tiktok audio EW DAVID!! EW DAVID!!!

Star: "Wait. Why were you covering for him?" now that the fear of god has settled in his heart, we must continue

Sunny: THE FEAR OF GOD. why is this one of the funniest things you have ever said lmao

Star: "running a single finger along his bare torso" i have a very vague memory of saying something that led to this... good job past Star, never change <33

Sunny: you ATE IT UUUPP with this. I am so thankful that you thought of this omg

Star: “Door.” this is still SO CUNTY !!!!!

Sunny: it is SOOOOO cunty. what are subby men if not little dogs to boss around?

Star: "Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured" love thinking about the next day in the locker room, everyone (Jackson and Isaac probably) grilling him for details and Stiles blue screening cause how does he explain it?

Sunny: I love describing Stiles's brain melt as 'blue screening' lmao. also Stiles would be so excited to brag and he would be like "there was some bondage involved" and the guys would be like "WOAH YOU TIED HER TO THE BED" and then he's like "no, she tied me to the bed" and then they're like "...oh"

Star: "Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit" Stiles, to me, is such a "boobs guy", it's CRAAAAAZY ! Like almost to a stereotypical degree

Sunny: he is another guy who would do anything for the promise of boobs. you could order him around with the promise of boobies and he would do anything

Star: “Dear god, what the hell is that?” I FORGOT ABOUT THIS !!!!!! INSAAAAANEEEE !!!! "His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway" SKSKKSKS i love that the awkward middle aged instincts were overpowered by the "responsible parent" ones

Sunny: this was one of my favourite endings to write ever!!!

I am so sorry I was late but I am so glad that you liked the fic!!! I love our little dumb subby Stiles

Stupid For You

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Hey - tell me what you want me to say. You know I’m Stupid For You.

I’ll take what I can get.

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you, and everybody wants you.

Summary:

Stiles tried to return your panties - he really did.

But he still has the contraband in his possession, and he accidentally drops the underwear in the locker room in front of the entire lacrosse team. To cover up the fact that he stole them, he lies and says that he got them from you after a hook-up. And surprisingly - you back up his story?

Only with the promise that he helps you turn his lie into the truth.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 11,900

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Before you read this fic, be sure to read BRAINWASHED. This fic can be read as a standalone, but you get more Stiles goodness by reading both, and the context of this one will make more sense if you read the other fic first.

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; as with the previous fic - the reader is implied to be fat/plus-sized; also again - for argument's sake, even though the character's in this fic are in high school, everyone is at least 18 (and the fic was inspired by a 20 something actor, so imagine the characters to be whatever age you want); mentions of panty stealing (carried over from the previous fic - Stiles stole a pair of the reader's panties in that fic and still has them in his possession); mentions of Stiles masturbating, but not described in detail like last time; mentions of Stiles having sexual fantasies about the reader; the rest of the lacrosse team finds Stiles with the panties and mocks him for it - they mock him for potentially having the panties to wear them and call him a 'cross-dresser', so I guess the warning here is transphobia and transphobic ideas (which would be very typical of high school boys, especially around the time this show was made in 2011); mentions of other members of the lacrosse team finding the reader sexually attractive (it is implied that the reader is generally known as a hot, attractive girl); mention of the reader wearing a 'slutty' Halloween costume to a party (Stiles has a picture of it that he 'loves'); for the actual smut section - the reader is dominant and Stiles is submissive; size kink - Stiles likes being manhandled by the reader because he is thin and skinny; the reader imposes rules on Stiles as a dom and he follows them, but there is no safeword implemented or needed (as the writer, I say they don't need one because they will never be put in danger of using one) (because they are fictional characters and their hard 'nos' will never come into play and only things they want will happen); orgasm restriction - Stiles has to ask the reader in order for permission before cumming; bondage - the reader uses a scarf to tie Stiles's wrists to the bed; the reader gives Stiles a handjob; lots of dirty talk; orgasm denial/edging (towards Stiles); the reader calls Stiles: needy boy, good boy, babe, baby, sweetheart; undertones of humiliation kink; undertones of pain kink (nothing severe, but Stiles does like a bit of pain); begging (from Stiles, a lot); protected penis in vagina sex (they DO use a condom this time) (different, I know); Stiles sucks on the reader's tits; Stiles eats the reader's pussy; thigh riding - Stiles grinds against the reader's thigh to cum; praise kink - towards Stiles; the reader calls Stiles 'pretty'; undertones of dumbification kink; I believe that is finally it. I hope you all enjoy!!

A/N: So, I have some mixed feelings about releasing this fic. Currently, I am only rushing to edit and release it in order to get it off my plate, and I want to do so before the end of the year. I wrote this during the hiatus, when I was writing fics without editing them and I really enjoyed getting to write a fic and go onto the sequel without having to stop and think too much about it. But to me, the first fic feels naturally complete. And so I didn't really like people nagging and continually asking for a sequel to the other fic as if it's not a complete fic on its own. It's only recently that I found a way to put it into words. Whenever I release a fic and people only care about seeing a sequel or a second part (especially if it's a oneshot with an intentional ending and people ask for a sequel like it's something so urgent), it makes me feel like that fic is not good enough because people view that fic as incomplete on its own. I know people think it's a compliment or flattering to ask for a sequel, but to me, if you like my writing, ask for me to write more for those same characters or in that same fandom - but if you are constantly asking for a sequel to a specific fic, it makes me think that you think that fic is not good and it needs to be completed in some way. But anyway - I tried to remember why I had fun writing this fic in the first place, and if anybody starts asking for a 'part three', I will start swinging. (THERE WILL NOT BE A PART THREE.) Also, when I originally wrote this, I was watching Season 1 and I had not met Isaac yet, so for my own fun, as my own special treat, I added Isaac to the locker room scene. Because he is my baby. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!

...

A week later, Stiles still had not returned the stolen panties to you. 

It was something that he kept meaning to do. Honestly, he really did. 

But he just never got the chance to. 

Somehow, in that entire week, he had never been left alone in your room. Not for long enough to actually figure out what to do with the stolen goods. Should he leave them in your hamper and let you find them in the laundry? Should he slip them back into your drawer like nothing had happened since, technically, they were clean? He always ended up panicking and shoving them back into his bag whenever he heard you coming back down the hall. 

On other nights when the two of you had been studying together, it had been at his place instead of yours. And any time he had gone over to your house, you had been with him pretty much the whole time. 

And okay - maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe you had taken bathroom breaks or left the room for a while because your mom wanted to talk to you. Or you ran downstairs to grab a pizza that you had ordered to share with him - but every time he opened his backpack to grab the panties in order to put them back, he felt some insane thing inside his head telling him that he just couldn’t do it. Part of him thought that it was fear over getting caught - the idea that you would walk back into the room just in time to see him with the evidence in hand. 

But deep down, he knew it was a possessiveness. The idea that these panties were now his. They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back. Those panties were his prize - his special, secret little part of you. And he couldn’t give that up. Not yet. 

He hadn’t jacked off with them since that first time. Well, he hadn’t specifically put them around his cock and made a mess of them in the same way. But he held them in a clean hand and enjoyed the texture of the lace, enjoyed the thought of you wearing them - while he used his other lubed hand to make himself cum. And he had done that every single night, sometimes twice, since he had taken them. It was becoming a bit of a worrying habit. 

He was wondering if you had noticed them gone yet. 

Maybe, when he finally did get rid of them, he wouldn’t return them back to you - he would have to burn them or something, just to get rid of the evidence. And then he would have to go on believing that you either hadn’t noticed the specific pair gone or you went on thinking that you had simply just lost them. 

But he couldn’t dwell on that for too long - because he did actually have other things to do besides viciously jerking off to thoughts about you. Even though that activity alone took up way too much of his time these days. Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better in his classes thanks to studying with you (he actually managed to retain a lot more of the material when you explained it to him), and he had just made First Line of the lacrosse team due to a horrible outbreak of pink eye. So things in his life were really looking up. 

The team funneled into the locker room, sweaty and tired after their practice, but personally - Stiles was glowing. 

He felt like he had done particularly well that day, and you had shown up to watch his practice. Even if Coach kept getting his name wrong and you had almost stormed into the middle of the field to scream at him about it. Overall, it was a good day. And he had a study date with you planned after this, so he had nothing but excitement brewing in his stomach at the idea of getting to spend more time with you. 

But then - it happened. 

He had almost completely forgotten that the contraband stolen panties were even in his bag. The item had become such a normal part of his life now that he hadn’t even considered what might happen if someone else found them on his person. So he thought nothing of putting his bag on the bench in the middle of the room and rooting through it, wide open, looking for the fresh clothes he had brought with him. (Of course, the only reason he had even brought fresh clothes was because he knew he would be hanging out with you later, and he wanted to avoid another Mustard Stain Incident.) 

When he took out these fresh clothes and began dressing (fresh out of the showers, of course) - it was just a tiny blur in the corner of his eye. Just a little streak of purple falling to the floor. As he put his second foot into his jeans, he spotted them, right there, sitting in the middle of the locker room floor - and his heart stopped. 

Naturally - someone else spotted them too. 

And just as Stiles raced to pick them up, another hand snatched them out from under him. 

“Woah, Stiles.” Danny’s voice chuckled, rising back to his full height. “Are these yours?” 

Mockery was dripping in every inch of his words, and Stiles’s heart raced. He rushed to pull his pants up, not yet fastening his zipper, and he glared at Danny, entirely lost for words. He moved to snatch the purple lace panties where Danny was dangling them off one finger, partly disgusted, partly amused. 

Naturally, Danny dodged the move, still looking at Stiles with mockery written all over his face. 

“Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked. 

Wait - he thought that Stiles had them because he had been wearing them? 

This comment easily caught Jackson’s attention, who slammed his locker door shut and moved to see what his friend was talking about. 

“Oh my god,” He chuckled, looking at the item in Danny’s hand and then back to Stiles, amusement spreading into a horrible grin across his face. “You’re a cross-dresser! This is too good. I always knew you were a freak, but this just brings it to a whole new level.” 

Jackson’s loud voice caught the attention of the entire team, who all craned their necks to see what he spoke of - including Scott, who practically ran around the corner with his hair still soaking wet and some suds dripping off him, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist as he raced to see what Jackson meant. 

“What?” Scott balked, looking at Stiles entirely confused. 

“Look, they’re not mine!” 

Stiles barked, panic setting in as he realized how fast the rumor would spread. It would be incredibly juicy gossip, if it were true (and most people didn’t care if gossip was true or not, which would make it spread even faster) - so he rushed to stamp it out before that could happen. 

“They belong to Y/N!” 

With this harsh declaration, he reached out and snatched them back, and Danny was too shocked by these words to move away this time. 

The room fell deadly silent, save for the distant hum of the shower that Scott had left running in his haste to watch the confrontation unfold. Everyone was staring at Stiles unabashedly now, very clearly shocked by his words. 

Fuck. 

Stiles’s heartbeat ramped up again. He had been so quick to try and exonerate himself that he had walked into a whole new problem: 

Now everyone on the team would find out that he was a panty-stealing pervert. And he wasn’t sure which reputation was worse: that, or being assumed to be a secret cross-dresser. 

“Seriously?” Isaac asked, being the first one to speak up and break the silence. “Because if you of all people managed to hit that,” He let out a low whistle, let a train blowing out a hoot of steam. “I admire you. She is so fucking hot. Normally she doesn’t give guys at this school the time of day. How did you-?” 

“No, no fucking way, they’re not hers.” Jackson scoffed, cutting off Isaac’s congratulatory words, immediately in disbelief. His natural instinct was to think that Stiles would never be able to get with someone as hot as you. “She’s a ten and you’re a solid three. Maybe. In the dark. With a bag on your head. That so did not happen.” 

Stiles frowned at the insult, but he was relieved that nobody suspected that he had stolen the underwear. Nobody had seen through him to the much more likely truth. 

“Come on, he’s like a four.” Danny added on. “He could easily be a seven if he changed his hair.” 

Feeling suddenly self conscious, Stiles put a hand up to his head - and felt entirely confused about where this conversation was going. 

“You’re getting off topic,” Scott piped up, looking between Danny and Stiles, his face nothing but pure confusion. “You’re telling us that you finally, actually went for it?” 

He was shocked that you and Stiles had gotten together without him knowing it. And he was slightly disappointed that his best friend had gotten some action with his long-time crush without telling him about it. 

“Yeah, come on - give us some details.” Isaac added on with a grin.

“Yes, yes I did! I finally went for it.” Stiles replied, mocking confidence, puffing out his chest. “Y/N and I hooked up in my Jeep last week. And these are hers,” He added on, proudly holding up the underwear as his prize. 

If he was going to screw himself with a lie, he might as well make it a big one. 

“Really?” Jackson posed, clearly still not believing him. “So - how did it go down? Did you get to second base? Third?” 

“Uh… remind me of the bases again?” Stiles muttered. 

Isaac rolled his eyes, and Scott looked as though he was making calculations in his head. 

“What was it - handjob? Blowie? Did you finger her? When did you get those?” Jackson persisted. “Is she a screamer?” 

Stiles’s gut twisted. So he was going to need details for his fake story. 

“You are so utterly barbaric.” Danny muttered, turning back to his locker, clearly tuning out of the conversation now that it had gotten too ‘straight’ for him. 

“Gross!” Scott disrupted Stiles’s internal panic with a face of twisted disgust. “Can we not talk about one of my best friends like this? Please?” 

“Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, McCall, shut it.” Jackson grunted, dismissing him. “I just wanna know if Stiles here is lying.” 

Scott simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to the shower. He was someone who truly believed Stiles at his word. Even if he had never smelled the pheromones of sex on him, he guessed that ‘hooked up’ meant something else to Stiles. 

Stiles hated that this left him alone with several pairs of eyes dissecting him - the guys on the team who were perverted and gossipy enough to want to know the details of his hook-up with you. 

“Well - I’m not lying.” Stiles hissed through his teeth. “She - we. Well - we made-out in the backseat. And then - she - she rode my dick. Hard.” He said, knowing that his tone didn’t sound the most confident. But he supposedly had proof right there in the form of your underwear. 

“Hmm, really?” Jackson replied, still not convinced. “You know what? Why don’t we just go and ask Y/N about this whole thing? She and Lydia are waiting outside, aren’t they?” 

Oh fuck. 

Stiles was screwed. So, so screwed. 

His stomach rose up into his throat and he couldn’t get words out, couldn’t scream out ‘no’, couldn’t do anything to stop Jackson (who was fully dressed and ready) as he snatched the underwear out of Stiles’s hand and marched out into the hallway. All Stiles could do was rush out into the hallway in pursuit, following Jackson and the group of gawking looky-loos that had followed who now seemed very interested in this piece of drama. 

Stiles didn’t even have time to pay attention to the fact that he wasn’t yet dressed himself - he didn’t have a shirt or shoes on and his pants weren’t even fastened. He couldn’t bring himself to mind because he was about to be outed as a thief and a pervert, and likely about to be violently jumped by the entire team for it. 

He wished that he still had his lacrosse pads on. 

You and Lydia were standing against a couple of random lockers, chatting idly, and you both looked utterly confused by the mob approaching. Lydia looked even more confused (with a hint of disgust) when she saw that Stiles was still half naked, and if Stiles wasn’t flooded with panic, he might have noticed you raking your eyes over his torso with a certain hunger and then licking your lips. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackson smiled at you trying to be charming. “These fell out of-” He held up the underwear to show you, and you immediately frowned. 

“Ew! Why do you have them?” You cut him off, snatching them back before he could finish his sentence. 

“Are those your underwear?” Lydia asked, looking between you and Jackson with anger brewing. “Jackson, why do you have another girl’s underwear?” She ground out sharply. 

“Well, as I was saying,” He said, clearly annoyed. “Those fell out of Stiles’s backpack. And he claims that he only has them because he hooked up with you, Y/N,” 

You and Lydia both looked at Stiles - you, with a certain content glow in your eyes, and Lydia, glaring at him while her lips curled in unhidden disgust. Jackson stood there with a smirk, as though waiting to be right, and there was a moment where nobody spoke that Stiles swore his heart swelled up and climbed out of his throat. 

Then, you let out a soft laugh and said: 

“Yeah. We did. Why is this such big news?” 

Jackson glared at you and Lydia’s expression of disgust became even more prominent. Stiles became dizzy with shock and he hoped that nobody noticed the way his chest flexed as he let out a breath of relief. 

Thank God - you were covering for him. 

Wait. Why were you covering for him? 

“He and I have been hooking up for months now. We didn’t want to parade it around the school as gossip and I made him promise that I wouldn’t become locker room talk,” You stressed these words, giving him a small glare. 

Behind Jackson, Isaac’s face became painted with guilt. 

“But it’s true.” You said, giving Stiles an oddly sultry look. He knew he was standing there with his mouth stupidly agape, but he just couldn’t find it in him to close his mouth. “The last time we hooked up, I gave him these panties in case he got lonely on nights I can’t visit.” 

You reached out, running a single finger along his bare torso from sternum right to the waistband of his underwear where they were sticking out of his jeans - and yup, his dick was definitely ballooning to life now. 

“I didn’t intend for everybody on the lacrosse team to put their grubby hands all over them.” You said this sharply, glaring at Jackson now. 

He simply rolled his eyes in reply. Clearly, he hated the idea that he had been wrong, and he was pouting in silence now. 

“Okay, this has been sufficiently gross.” Lydia announced, effectively ending the conversation. “Jackson, can you go get your stuff so we can leave? We have dinner with my mom at five, and-” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes again. 

“Stiles, you better hurry up too.” You told him. “I need to get that bra I left in the back of your Jeep.” 

And then - much to his shock, you leaned in and laid a kiss right on his lips. Firm, but fast. Laying a claim on him right in front of everyone. Owning up to the story materially as much as you had with your words. 

If it hadn’t been for Jackson slapping him on the shoulder, Stiles would have been frozen with shock long after you pulled away. But then, he was on autopilot, walking back to the locker room with Jackson and the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about him ‘banging such a hot girl’. 

“I gotta tell you, Stilinski, I did not think that you had it in you.” Jackson told him, this being a compliment coming from him. “But I guess somehow, you ended up with a ten.” 

“I definitely want more details later.” Isaac told him in a low whisper before he returned back to his own locker. 

Somehow - Stiles had come out on top in this situation. 

In the hallway behind them, Lydia sighed and locked you in a judgemental gaze. 

“Really? Stiles?” She asked, harshness seeping through her voice. 

“What?” You shrugged. “He’s cute.” 

Lydia waited for further explanation, and you folded. 

“...And he’s easy to boss around. I like it when he gets flustered from simple instructions, but then does it anyway.” 

“Oh.” Lydia nodded. “So it’s a kink thing.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. You couldn’t entirely disagree with her. 

… 

It wasn’t until Stiles was nearly finished dressing, sitting on the bench tying his shoes that it truly hit him: 

He was still utterly screwed. 

Even if the guys on the team thought he was some high school hero for somehow managing to get into your pants (some of them high-fiving him and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations before they left the locker room). And even if, for some bizarre reason, you had chosen to cover for him in front of everyone (he put that on you being a loyal best friend and quite literally not wanting to air your dirty laundry in front of everyone) - you still knew the truth. You and Stiles might be the only people who knew, but both of you still knew the truth. 

For a minute there, he had been deluded enough to start believing his own bullshit story. But it was still complete bullshit. 

There hadn’t been some heat of the moment romp in the back of his Jeep that resulted in you naked for him, losing your underwear or giving them to him as a reward. He was still a pathetic virgin who had stolen them and had no right to have them in the first place. He still had to face you, likely knowing that this was the end of your friendship, because you were the only person who knew about the horrible thing that he had done. 

Stiles dreaded facing you, but he knew that he couldn’t hide out in the locker room forever. So he grabbed his gear and he braved his way into the parking lot, where you were now waiting by the Jeep since Lydia had left with Jackson. You were distracted, looking at something on your phone, and Stiles savored the few moments he had left to admire your beauty before you would declare that you hated him forever and never speak to him again. 

In all honesty, Stiles expected you to slap him, yell at him, and then leave. He expected you to, at the very least, tell him that the friendship was over and that he should never talk to you again. 

He was entirely surprised when he approached you and nothing of that nature happened. 

Instead, you gave him a cold, uninterested look before you said: 

“Door.” 

In the most deadpan voice ever, while motioning to the passenger’s side door - oh, of course. Obviously meaning for him to open the door for you. 

It was something he usually did upon instinct anyway (always bending over backwards to impress you) but today, the intense dread hanging over his head had caused him to forget. 

He rushed to get the door for you and you climbed into the passenger’s seat as you usually did, still not yet speaking to him. So then he busied himself with putting his gear in the back, still feeling anxiety curl in his gut at the conversation that would inevitably take place during the ride home. At least you still felt okay with riding with him. Perhaps the friendship wasn’t entirely ruined after all. 

He climbed into the driver’s seat and began fumbling with his keys in nervous, shaky hands, not yet ready to look you in the eye. You were staring at yourself in the flip-down mirror, fixing your hair, wiping off some lip gloss that had smeared. Usually this would be a moment he would absolutely drink in, loving to stare at you while you did such menial tasks. But today, after being caught doing such a horrible thing, he was absolutely drenched in guilt and he just couldn’t bring himself to face you. 

The two of you simmered in the silence for a few moments. He was waiting for you to bring it up - for you to scream, yell, hit him, do something. 

He was surprised by what came next. 

“You said your dad isn’t gonna be home tonight, right?” You posed, still looking in the mirror rather than at him. 

It was what he had told you at lunch, inviting you over to watch some horror movies that you had been bugging him to see. 

He had guessed those plans would be canceled, hinging on what had just happened. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, confirming it once again. “He’s working the night shift.” 

“Good. We’ll go to your place then.” 

You thought he would start to drive at this confirmation, but he was still unsettled by anxiety. He was still waiting for you to acknowledge it, at least. 

“Ugh, okay… are you gonna yell at me?” He burst out, knowing that it was incredibly stupid, asking to be yelled at, but he truly didn’t know what else to do at this point. You gave him a strange look, almost confused, and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “Come on! We both know what happened!” 

“Stiles, my, my… what are you talking about?” 

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm and your eyes were filled with determined mischief, and he knew then and there - you wanted him to say it. You wanted him to blatantly confirm in his own words what he had done. 

Stiles let out a harsh sigh, leaning his head down and accidentally bumping his forehead against the steering wheel in a way that made the horn dully beep, the knot growing larger and tighter in his gut. 

“Come on, you know…” 

He trailed off, hoping that you wouldn’t actually force him to say it. He sat upright again, and you continued to look at him expectantly, patiently, and he swallowed around the terrible dryness in his throat before he forced himself to say it. 

“I - I stole your underwear and kept them in my bag.” 

You both knew that he was leaving out the part where he had masturbated with them. Even if you had no proof of that, it was starkly obvious to you. 

But you decided not to push him about that detail. (For now.) 

“Oh. That.” You said, continuing to sound utterly sarcastic in your cluelessness. 

Then your tone switched to something oddly genuine as you said something he never would have expected. 

“I’ve been waiting for like a week to see if you even had them. I kind of thought I was going crazy. I thought maybe my cat stole them because you weren’t fessing up and you didn’t try to bring them back,” You sighed. “I was worried my whole plan failed.” 

Something inside of Stiles snapped, and he thought it was the last branch on his tree of his sanity. He chose not to worry about it for now. 

“Y - your plan?” He stuttered out, barely grasping at the reality of what you had meant. 

You had wanted him to find your underwear? You wanted him to take them? You wanted him to-? 

You let out a bright, amused laugh. 

“Yes, dummy!” You said, reaching up and poking the side of his head while he stared at you in utter shock. “I left the panties there for you to take. You’re cute, but god - you’re really dense sometimes.” You let out a sigh. “Now drive, please. As long as the blood currently trapped in your dick isn’t gonna distract you too much.” 

He hated that he got a sick thrill from you mocking him and calling him ‘cute, but dense’. But he was glad that he was used to driving with boners that you had given him, because it didn’t distract him too horribly. Thoughts of what would happen when the two of you got there had him running a few stops signs, though. 

…

Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how the heinous crime of stealing your panties had gotten him into this glorious position, but with the way things were going, he no longer cared to question it. 

The minute that the two of you got through his bedroom door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. He struggled to keep up, clumsy but entirely excited against the movement of your mouth, wondering if he had somehow gotten sucked into another heated daydream. 

But no, that couldn’t be true - because this was so much fucking better. 

The smell of your perfume in his nose, the little puffing breaths you let out against his cheek, the little moans that emanated from your throat. And holy hell, the feeling of your tongue shoving past his lips that caused him to let out a pathetic moan of his own as you seemed determined to filthily fuck his mouth with it. 

You were a lot more aggressive in real life than you were in his dreams. 

But he fucking loved it. He loved it so much. 

His cock was already throbbing in his pants, likely staining his boxers with copious amounts of precum as you walked him back toward the bed. You then used the hand you had in the middle of his chest to shove him roughly back onto it. 

“Oh my god.” 

He squeaked out the words at the feeling of being manhandled by you - given, he knew he didn’t weigh that much and he had made no effort to put up a fight, but it was still hot to know that you could shove him around so easily. Which was something he would have to mentally unpack with himself later. But for now, he would simply just enjoy it. 

While his dick continued to ache harder, he looked up at you in awe. You were standing at the foot of the bed with your lip gloss smeared, your chest heaving slightly with a wicked grin on your face. Stiles had never seen a more beautiful predator in all his life. The look in your eyes told him that he was about to be absolutely devoured by you - and he couldn’t fucking wait. 

“Y/N, please-” He was about to begin begging, but you cut him off sharply. 

“Shut up.” You barked, and he felt a beautiful wave of hormones crash over his body at this. You were much more aggressive than in his dreams. It was so perfect. “No more talking now.” 

You put a knee on the bed between where his thighs had naturally draped open and you leaned over his body, crowding tightly into his personal space. He hoped that the needy whine he couldn’t contain as you raked your nails across his scalp wouldn’t count as ‘talking’. He was desperate to follow your rules - so desperate to be a good boy for you. 

“You will do everything I tell you to.” You whispered against his lips, and he nearly began shaking as he resisted the urge to close the gap and kiss you again. “Unless you want me to tell all the boys on the team that you’re actually a filthy perv who stole my panties?” 

“Y-” He nearly gave a verbal confirmation of this, but then he remembered what you had said. 

No more talking. 

Instead, quickly picking up on following the rules, Stiles nodded his head aggressively. 

“From now on, you do not look at any other girl, you do not touch any other girl, you belong to me - do you understand?” 

He had no clue what ‘other girls’ you thought he might possibly be touching, or even talking to in a non-platonic way, but he got another tight thrill at being claimed as yours. He wanted so badly to be yours - to be your good boy. 

He nodded aggressively again - his tongue lolling out of his mouth, slick with want, practically drooling down his chin like a dog at this point, his eyes staring at you with a hypnotized kind of need. 

“When we are having sex, you do not speak unless prompted, you do not cum unless I give you permission, and from now on - you do not touch yourself unless I tell you to.” 

His cock throbbed weakly in protest at this. He swallowed thickly, his throat straining with complaints about your words. He knew it would be difficult to go from jerking off every morning and every night to likely not at all, but fuck - you, on top of him, you wanting to have sex with him - it was more than a fair price to pay. 

If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in this position, he would have given up anything for it. 

So naturally, he nodded again. 

“Do you understand?” 

He stayed silent, believing that he was following your rules. 

“Tell me that you understand.” 

“I understand.” Stiles breathed out in a rush, nodding again. 

“Good. Now take off your clothes.” 

You got off the bed again and he was momentarily distracted by watching you shuffle through your bag for something, but then he remembered the instruction. You wanted him to take off his clothes. You actually wanted to touch him. 

Stiles rushed to strip and he didn’t have time to be self conscious before you were kissing him again, drowning him in hot, open-mouthed kisses as he stepped out of his underwear and jeans where they were pooled around his ankles. You pushed him onto the bed again and this time followed him, straddling his waist while still fully clothed yourself. Wearing the shirt, skirt, and tights you had worn to school that day, making for an odd sensation as the fabric covering your hot cunt rubbed against his now bare, very hard dick. 

He didn’t think anything of it when you grabbed his hands and brought them above his head - but then there was fabric encircling his wrists, and he pulled himself away from your mouth to blink up dumbly, wondering what you were doing. 

You had gotten a scarf out of your bag, and you were tying him to the bedpost. 

“Remember what I said?” You grinned at him, tying a knot that was surprisingly secure. “Good boys get rewards, and bad boys get spanked.” 

He tugged experimentally on the hold, and it was pretty firm. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation - but he definitely didn’t see himself getting out of it without help. 

His stomach jumped as he wondered which you had deemed him as - good or bad. Especially because he was now tied up, completely at your mercy. He was splayed out on his back, so this wouldn’t be an optimal position to spank him in. But theoretically, you would do whatever else you wanted to him. And that thought sent an odd tingle through his body, causing a wonderful jolt through his cock.  

“I’m gonna give you a chance to earn a reward, Stiles.” You told him, delivering another messy kiss. “You gonna be a good boy for me?” 

“Yes.” He answered eagerly. “Fuck, yes - I wanna be good for you.” 

You grinned at this. 

He was more than eager to see what you were gonna do next. 

A sharp jolt of anxiety hit him when you sat up (leaning more of your weight on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic moan) - he hated being separated from you already. He churned in anticipation as you took a moment to sit there and just admire him. 

Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured - his honey eyes glossed over with need and anticipation, his lips bitten pink and slightly swollen, parted in that beautifully dumb way as he heaved out shallow, desperate breaths. Yes, he was skinny - even playing lacrosse hadn’t managed to put much muscle tone on his body, but you did find a certain appeal in his lithe, thin form. You gained a certain thrill from knowing that you could so easily man-handle him, toss him down, and he really wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight in return. 

His cock, leaking frantically between your legs - was beautiful in its own way. A healthy six inches and nicely thick, his pubes dark, thick and untrimmed. Unkept because he definitely hadn’t been expecting anyone to see him without clothes anytime soon. Charming, in a sense. 

Just as Stiles was feeling smothered by the anticipation, by the heated gaze of your eyes running up and down his body, you then leaned to look in his bedside drawer. He wanted to scream for you not to do it, but he had a feeling that it would be breaking your rules; that it would be a ‘bad boy’ thing to do. And that would run the risk of you not touching him at all. 

You let out a laugh when you saw what was in the drawer. 

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised that this is almost empty.” You told him, bringing out the dwindling bottle of lube and placing it beside him. “You must like it really wet, huh?” 

The words were absolutely filthy coming off your lips, intentionally so on your part, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. He swallowed a whimper, but said nothing. 

“And this,” You picked up one of the many pictures he had of you in the drawer - one of you in your Halloween costume from last year. Lydia had dared you to wear something ‘slutty’, and you had shown up to her Halloween party in a black leather bra, a leather mini skirt, leather boots, and a pair of cat ears. Stiles had spent most of that night in the bathroom. “I have to say, I’m flattered.” 

You have another bright giggle before you put the picture back and then closed the drawer. 

“So - you think about me a lot, do you, Stiles?” You asked, scooting back on his thighs until you were sitting on his knees. 

Not a rhetorical question. 

He swallowed thickly, gathering himself to answer. 

“Yes.” He answered, his voice far too weak for his liking. “All the time.” 

You hummed thoughtfully at this. 

You reached to your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt before you lifted it off completely over your head, revealing your blue lace bra to him. Dear god, you were so perfect. As you tossed your shirt off to the side, the bra strap slumped down your shoulder and he mourned over not having his hands free, wanting to gently lift it back up, or rip the whole thing off you, wanting to kiss along your shoulder-

“How often do you think about me?” You asked, reaching for the bottle of lube. 

Stiles felt a wave of shyness splash up inside of his gut. But he knew that it was useless to deny the truth now. He had already been caught, over and over again. You wouldn’t mock him now if he just admitted it. 

You cracked the top on the bottle, and the sound shook his insides - his dog-like mind so well trained to associate the sound with having his dick touched. He licked his lips, viciously trying to get his mouth to work in tandem with his brain. You had asked him to speak. He needed to speak. But that was growing more and more difficult while he stared down the ample cleavage coming out of your bra and shook with the anticipation of you about to touch his cock. 

“Every day.” He whimpered out. “All the time, I-” 

He let off a choked sound when you poured some lube into your hand and then finally, after years of him dreaming about it, you wrapped a loose, cool, wet grip around the base of his hard, leaking cock. His hips jumped up into your touch and he let out a choked sound from the back of his throat while you continued to look at him with an absolutely wicked grin. 

“Stiles,” You said his name in a firm tone, reminding him that he was supposed to be giving you an answer. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you!” He shouted, much louder than he had intended to. “All the time, I - I feel like I’m going insane. You’re too perfect, you’re too hot, I-I-I-”

“Hey, shh, baby.” You told him, running the other hand up his thigh in a way that made him gasp. 

You used that loose grip on his dick and began jerking him off, spreading the lube across him in the most leisurely way possible. It was a dull pleasure, but one so perfect because it was delivered by you. 

He had no clue how absolutely deliberate it was. But of course - everything you did with him was so deliberate, so well planned out to drive him entirely insane. 

“How often do you jerk off?” 

You asked, curiosity ripe within you as you imagined it: Stiles splayed out on this exact bed, pants around his ankles, his hand wet with lube and creating a sloppy blur on his cock as he jerked off as fast as possible, absolutely desperate to cum - his face twisted with pleasure, his thighs tensing, your name hot on his lips. 

You really wanted to know the kind of things he imagined, what made his kinky little mind tick. You wanted to know just how desperate he was to steal your panties in the first place. Did he think that he could get away without you noticing them gone or was he just too horny to care? 

You tightened your grip slightly, continuing to drag your hand up and down his dick in long, slow, deliberate strokes. You wanted him hard, throbbing, and desperate - even more so than he already was. You wanted him blinded with pleasure and begging. 

“A lot.” He breathed back, bucking his hips up to meet your touch, clearly already needy for more. 

You put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the bed. You tutted your tongue, scolding him. 

“Come on, Stiles.” You said, your tone somewhere between mocking and scolding. “You can be more specific than that.” 

You tightened your grip again, your hand now acting like a firm vice around his cock - something that made him moan deeply and close his eyes. You let him enjoy it for a few moments as you stroked him deeply, slowly - spreading the wetness over his cock in deep, pleasurably strokes. For the first time ever, delivering the pleasure of having a hand on his cock that wasn’t his own. 

Already, intense pleasure was knotting up in his stomach. Already - he was getting close to cumming. 

You could tell that from the way his breathing shallowed out, the way his stomach tensed. 

You pulled your hand back completely, leaving him to let out a confused sound and pop his eyes open at top speed, craning his neck up to look at you with utter disappointment while you continued to grin at him. 

“Tell me.” You instructed firmly. “How many times a week do you make yourself cum?” You continued your interrogation. When his face flashed with a streak of guilt, you changed the question. “How many times a day?” 

Stiles took a sharp breath. 

Again, he felt caught. 

“Twice.” He said it quietly, before gathering his courage. “Twice - twice a day. Usually… once in the morning and once at night.” 

You giggled. “Needy boy.” 

He was rewarded with your touch back on his cock. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as you started jerking him off again, wet and smooth, a bit faster this time. It created a lovely wet noise and he let out another moan when he heard it. 

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, Stiles?” You asked, your voice low and sultry - warm, inviting him to the possibilities. 

Perhaps, if he told you about the things he thought about, his most private and guarded thoughts, then you might make them come true. 

“You.” He moaned back almost instantly - trying to buck up into your touch again but being held down by you again. “I - I only think about you. I swear.” 

You licked your lips. 

It was something you loved to hear. But you yearned for more details. 

“Cute.” You sighed. “As flattering as that is, babe, I want specifics.” You pressed. “Specific fantasies. Come on, you must have kinks,” 

If he had to summarize it - his kink was you. 

And it was growing increasingly difficult to think with your hand pumping on his cock. 

“Your - your thighs!” Stiles blurted out frantically, saying the first thing that he thought of. 

Even now, feeling the heavy, warm fat of your thighs spread across his knees, had his cock jumping in your hand - had him buzzing and dizzy all over. It was one of his favourite parts about you, something that made him hard if your thighs brushed against him when the two of you sat too close together on the couch during a movie night. 

“Your thighs are so - so thick, and beautiful, and big, and-” He choked off into a moan when you moved your other hand to his balls, spreading some of the lube there and gently massaging them in a way that sent a jolt through his whole body, practically making him seize off the bed. 

You let out a giggle. 

“What else, baby?” 

His cock was hot and pulsing in your hand, and you knew he was close again. But you wanted him to get right to the edge before you cut him off this time. 

“I - I think about - about having your thighs wrapped around my head,” 

He choked out, stuttering as he began humping into your touch, so desperate to cum. He had pretty much forgotten about your earlier rules by now, had forgotten about asking for permission, and he just needed to cum into your touch. He needed it so badly. 

“I wanna eat you out so badly. I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your pussy. Please, please, please, please-!” 

This visceral begging tipped you off to the orgasmic delirium he was tipping into, and you squeezed your touch sharply around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming, even going so far as to give his balls a light tap in punishment. He let out a bitter gasp as his orgasm was sharply cut off, the feeling drowned bitterly in his stomach. It left his muscles so tight and left him flailing against his binds for a moment, squirming chaotically underneath you. 

“Bad boy.” You scolded him, your voice wicked and causing his dick to throb woefully in your unforgiving touch. “You didn’t ask if you could cum.” 

You leaned down and bit one of his nipples - pure teeth, unforgiving, and it made him cry out in a gargle of his own spit as his head became even dizzier. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to question why he liked the sharp spike of pain so much, especially not when his balls were throbbing so terribly, and he needed to cum so fucking badly. 

“Please?!” He cried out. “Please? Can I cum? I need it, I need-” 

“Shh, baby.” 

You hushed him again, taking your hand off his dick and leaving it to rest leaking against his stomach, running both your hands up his torso in a soothing touch as you leaned in and pressed a few sweet kisses on his open, whining mouth. 

“I’ll give you a chance to be good. Is that what you want?” 

“Please.” He replied, so desperate that he was on the verge of tears now. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 

“I’m gonna ride your pretty cock now. And if you wait to cum until I tell you,” You pressed these words hard, making sure he paid attention to this part. “Then I’ll let you eat my pussy. Does that sound like a good reward?” 

“Yes.” He replied, entirely breathy and excited. “Please, please. I’ll be good.” 

“Oh, baby. I know you will.” 

This spilled from your lips as an overly syrupy coo, and he couldn’t help but to yearn for more of that sound. 

You got off him, then, and he let out an utterly disappointed sound - instantly missing your weight and the heat of you above him. 

Stiles looked on with curiosity as you went back to your bag. His heart thumped with anticipation when you came back with a condom, and didn’t hesitate to open it and then roll it onto his still very stiff cock. (Just the few touches of you doing this had him warming with even more pleasure, and he worried that the touch of your pussy around him would cause him to cum instantly, disappointing you.) 

Then, he watched in awe as you stripped off. Your skirt, tights, and underwear, giving him a pang of disappointment that you left your bra on. You did this with intention, though, slightly worried that the sight of your bare tits would cause him to blow it too early. 

“Oh my god.” Stiles let out another whimper as you straddled him once again, putting a hand on his cock to line it up with your pussy. 

Fuck, holy fuck - this was really happening. He was really about to fuck you. He was about to fuck your perfect pussy. 

It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - covered in trimmed hair, which was glossy with your wetness. Fuck - he yearned to see that pussy spread out underneath him. He yearned to taste you. Even just feeling the heat coming off you as you lined up the tip, even through the condom - it was deadly. 

He was not going to survive this. 

He squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath, and you didn’t like that. You used your free hand to give him a light tap on the cheek - some small semblance of a slap, a grounding reminder that you were there, controlling him. 

“Hey, come on. Look at me.” 

Your words forced him to open his eyes, and he easily fell into a streak of obedience, eager to please you. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at you - absolutely enamored by your pretty face. 

“Good boy.” 

He let out another whimper at the praise. 

Then, you finally lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking down in one smooth movement until you were fully seated - tightly wrapped around his dick and resting against his bony pelvis. 

He felt like the air had been punched out of him. That perfect, tight heat being wrapped around him - the wetness leaking out around his skin at the base of his dick, everything squeezing his cock like a vice, like you were made to fit him. It made him so dizzy, stole the air out of his lungs. It was all too perfect. 

“Oh. Oh. Oh god-” He gasped out, squirming underneath you, already intensely overwhelmed by the pleasure. 

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and held him still for another kiss, and he moaned hotly into your mouth, desperation growing inside of him. 

You started slowly grinding your hips into his pelvis, wanting to warm him up gently. As you pulled away from the kiss, he was panting frantically against your mouth, already overwhelmed. 

“Hey, shh.” You told him, smoothing your hands over his torso once again. “You gonna be good for me?” 

“Yes.” He quickly moaned in return, nodding his head eagerly. 

This was a side of Stiles that you had so quickly grown to love. You knew that you weren’t going to get enough of this - this beautiful soft obedience. Especially compared to usual sarcastic abrasiveness. 

This was your good boy. And you were going to have such a good time training him, having him learn the rules. You were heavily looking forward to shutting down his future quips on a dime with a simple threat of keeping future orgasms from him. 

You positioned your weight on your knees, then, and began lifting yourself off his cock halfway before you slammed your hips back down. You put your hands on either side of his head, between where his arms were stationed above him, still tangled up in the scarf and unable to move. After a moment, you built up a good, even pace - not quite gentle, but not entirely rough either. 

You were taking it easy on him for his first time. 

Stiles continued letting out shocked pants, sounding like a man drowning on dry land, hurriedly gasping for air. Soon, he began moaning as more wild pleasure was driven through his body from the feeling of your wet pussy gripping around his cock; from the feeling of you bouncing against his balls, from the sound of that perfect wet slap every single time you landed down on him. 

It caused a terrible need to brew in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. 

All too soon, he was going to cum. 

“Please!” He moaned out, trying to buck his hips up to meet yours - his muscles shaking so terribly that he couldn’t keep up with your pace and ended up just jostling wildly underneath you. “Please, please!” 

You grinned. 

You knew that you wouldn’t cum from this, but you were deeply enjoying yourself anyway. Stiles looked so pretty - so pathetic and pretty - gritting his teeth to try and hold back his sounds (which wasn’t working at all), tears rimming his eyes, a few even slipping out, his face tinging a lovely shade of pink from the exertion and the pure arousal. 

“Please ‘what’, baby?” 

You pressed, a slight edge of mocking on your voice that punched another harsh wave of arousal through his gut. It took everything he had in those moments not to cum - to hold it back. To be good for you. 

“Come on, sweetheart. You can say it. Just say the words-” 

“Please lemme cum,” He whined out, the words practically turning into a slur on his lips - mirroring exactly the way he had been begging to a fictional you as he had pumped his cock while sitting on this very bed not too long ago. “Please, please, please Y/N, please-” 

You leaned down to his ear then, whispering the words he so badly wanted to hear. 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

But this time it was so very real. 

With your permission given, his brain fired off, finally allowing himself to let it go. He let out a guttural, almost non-human sound as he humped his hips off the bed in harsh, fast strokes while you fucked down onto him tightly, roughly grinding into him to allow him to get the most out of it. Wanting him to have the most pressure from your hot cunt in those moments while his eyes rolled back into his head and he released a thick load into the condom. 

He was even pretty like this - his mouth wide open, his long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving as he released a concert of beautiful, whorish sounds. 

When his hips stopped and his noises dissolved off into a more gentle panting, you leaned down to kiss him again. He most definitely deserved it. 

“Good boy.” You mumbled against his mouth, eager to praise him. “Such a good boy for me. You did so good.” 

This caused another sound from him, and you simply smiled as he began to kiss you back, eager and sloppy, smearing spit across your cheek while you reached up and began untying the knot in the scarf you had secured him with. 

“You want your reward now?” You asked him. 

You couldn’t lie, your cunt was thrumming at the idea of him getting between your thighs. You wondered if he would be able to make you cum. He seemed eager to please and so far, he was good at following instructions, so you could probably tell him exactly what to do to get you off. Even if he couldn’t, you would certainly enjoy the view. 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moaned against your cheek, that desperation thrashing back up inside of him. “Please, I’ve been good, please-”

“Yes, you have been.” You soothed him again. “Good boy.” 

You released him from the binds and then finally got off him, allowing his softening cock to pop free from your pussy - something that caused him to loudly moan. 

You took off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket that he had by his desk, the lube and cum seeping into the crumbled up, forgotten papers that he had there. When you came back to the bed, he was looking at you with wide, eager eyes, waiting for his next instruction. Such a good boy. You really loved how this was turning out. 

“I’m gonna lay down, and then you can get between my legs. Okay, baby?” 

He nodded eagerly again, and hopped off the bed to give you room, nearly tripping over his own feet in doing so. 

You fluffed up his pillow and then laid down, spreading your legs wide, and when you looked back to him, he was tracing every single inch of your body with a wide-eyed gaze. His mouth was agape once again, absolutely not hiding the fact that he was absolutely lustful for you, becoming utterly distracted by the sight of you (almost completely) naked in his bed, laid out just for him. 

“Stiles.” You called his name, garnering his attention once again. “Come on, baby.” 

You held out an arm, signaling for him to come over, and he eagerly climbed into the bed between your thighs. 

You thought for sure that he would make himself comfortable down between your thighs and get right to tasting you, as eagerly as he had begged for it before, but it was his turn to surprise you now. 

“Please, can you-?” He cut himself off shyly, tracing a single finger along the cup of the bra that you still wore, the last scrap of clothing hiding your body from him. “Can you take it off?” 

That sent a thrill through you. Rather than being demanding, he was still so trepidatious - wondering if he had tread too far by asking you to remove clothing, even after you had ridden his cock. 

Still, you couldn’t help but to want to tease him - just a little bit more. 

“You wanna see my tits?” You asked, running your hands up your body, teasing your fingers along the edges of the bra cups as if threatening to pull them down. “You wanna… play with my tits, Stiles?” 

“Yes.” Stiles breathed out, entirely eager. 

You could see his cock swelling back to life between his thighs already. 

“Do you think you’ve been a good enough boy for that?” You questioned, lustful eagerness in your voice. 

His answer would entirely dictate whether or not you took the bra off. 

He swallowed thickly, still nervous, his eyes flickering between your cleavage and your own eyes, as if looking for a hint at the answer. He waited a careful moment, and then finally spoke. 

“Yes.” He said, pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to argue the point before he continued. “Yes, please, I’ve been good.” 

“Hmm…” You said, pretending to think. “Alright.” 

You reached up behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it away. When your naked breasts were finally revealed to him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth in an almost puppy-like way, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he stared hungrily at the roundness of your perfect flesh. 

This time, he didn’t even ask you before he made his next move - entirely fueled by his own eagerness and desire, he swept down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit that told you just how much he was enjoying this, something that had your pussy getting wetter as you saw the way his eyes drifted closed with bliss while he sloppily laved his tongue over your skin. 

He was so fucking cute, so fucking pretty - so fucking perfect like this. 

He continued like this for a few moments before he trailed a line of sloppy kisses to the other tit and began sucking on that one, feeling the need to give both beautiful girls equal attention. He licked his tongue across the skin in a fat trail that had you tingling, that had your cunt clenching. You were glad he was enjoying himself, but it was making the space between your thighs feel rather neglected. 

“Stiles, baby,” You called out, starting to sound a bit breathy from need yourself. You raked your nails gently across his scalp again, causing him to let out another moan. “You said you were gonna eat my pussy, right? You don’t wanna disappoint me - do you, baby?” 

He popped off your tit immediately. 

“Not gonna disappoint you.” He said in a hurried tone, shaking his head. 

You pulled him in for another kiss, and when you released him, he rushed down to get comfortable between your legs, which you spread even more, dropping your foot off the bed on one side to give him more room. 

Your pussy was so gorgeous. 

So much better than he had dreamed of - wet, gleaming, smeared in your own juices and slightly gaped from his cock. A sight that absolutely thrilled him - seeing exactly where he had been, knowing that he had fucked you, he had been inside of you. 

The smell of your pretty cunt was something more unique than your sweat or perfume like he had originally thought. He leaned in eagerly and licked a fat, wide stripe from where you were fluttering and open all the way up to your mound, getting his first real taste of you - he let out a loud moan as it fully penetrated his senses, as everything that was you spread across his tongue for the first time. 

You were so fucking perfect. You tasted so fucking perfect. 

You let out a moan of your own when Stiles moaned against you again, the vibrations radiating through your sensitive core. This time, he latched into your clit, seemingly knowing that swollen bead was his ticket to success without you even having to tell him. He sucked harshly on it for a moment that made your thighs twitch and threaten to close around his head before he began digging his tongue against it, lapping at your cunt, trying to suck all the taste off it that he could. 

“Good boy,” You moaned, reaching out and cradling the back of his head (not having much hair to grab onto with the short buzzcut that he had) - keeping him tight against your pussy, not that he seemed intent to pull away any time soon. “Such a good boy. Good boy for me!” 

He wasn’t particularly skilled - it was obvious from a mile away that he didn’t have any experience, but fuck, he more than made up for it with his pure eagerness. He was eating your pussy like it was his last meal, moaning against you like he was getting more pleasure from this than you were - and hell, maybe he was. 

He didn’t back off or complain when you instinctively bucked your hips against his face. In fact, he seemed to take it in stride, downright enjoying the way your warm juices were smeared across his cheeks and chin, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued openly across your cunt, his drool mixing with your wetness while he moaned against you. 

“Oh, fuck! Stiles!” 

He moaned harder at the sound of his own name on your lips, so beautifully pornographic, better than he had dreamed it would be - even when he had imagined it so many times over and over again. Somehow, even when you thought he might not get you there at all, his eager performance and the vibrations from his moans against your clit had you so close already. 

“Got me so close, baby,” You moaned, scratching the back of his head. “Such a good boy, so close-” 

He moaned in response and tongued more vigorously at your clit, and you worked your hips against him, practically riding his face in order to bring yourself over the edge. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” 

You let out a throaty moan as you came, beautiful pleasure surging through your body while your back arched against the bed. Inadvertently shoving your hips even closer to his face, making him even more beautifully messy while he sucked and licked you. He loved the feeling of your body twitching and seizing underneath him, he loved hearing your gorgeous moans, he loved knowing that he had made you cum. 

He lowered his face down and shoved his tongue inside you, determined to drink right from the source then, his nose bumping against your now orgasm-sensitive clit unintentionally, making you shout loudly. This further smothered him in your essence in a way that he loved, while he shoved his tongue inside of you as far as he possibly could, absolutely loving the way your pussy fluttered around him, the way your taste overwhelmed his senses, the pure heat smothering his face. 

“Baby, baby-” 

You gasped and struggled for air, knowing that he wasn’t overstimulating you on purpose - he was just eager. And that thought alone was so overwhelmingly hot to you that you almost let him continue. But your clit thrummed with an ache of protest, and you knew that you couldn’t spoil him this much, this soon. You couldn’t handle having a spoiled brat on your hands. 

“Baby, you have to come up now!” You ordered sharply, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning, adding a tiny bite of pain to fully get his attention. 

Stiles let out a tiny whine of disappointment, but did as he was told, finally unlatching himself from your cunt. This move made a sinfully wet sound as he pushed himself up with his hands to sit between your thighs on his knees. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his once again hard, throbbing pink cock smearing precum against his stomach. 

You had a passing thought about telling him to grab another condom, but again - you didn’t need to spoil him so soon. 

You had another idea instead. 

“Oh baby,” You cooed, reaching out and loosely gripping his cock, causing him to let out a shuddering moan and buck into your hand furiously - which didn’t give him much sensation, only teased him more. “You got really excited from that, didn’t you?” 

He nodded vigorously, his mind completely mush at this point, too weak to form words. 

��Do you wanna get off against my thigh?” You purred, gently stroking your knuckles across his temple - feeling a wicked kind of joy in seeing his face smeared in your wetness, especially when paired with the dumb, glossy look in his eyes. 

He almost dared to ask for more - wanting to fuck you again, to put his cock between your tits and fuck them - but he had a feeling that you wouldn’t let him get away with it. And he wanted to be your good boy so badly. So he was willing to take whatever you had to give him. 

“Yes.” He croaked out, his voice slightly hoarse now from all the moaning. “Yes, please.” 

“Good boy.” You grinned at him. “Come on.” 

You moved your leg - already slightly stiff from how long he had been between them, stretched around his shoulders - and slotted your thigh between his. You raised it up slightly, gently propping the broadness of your flesh against his aching balls and his hard, leaking cock. 

“Wait, I want-” 

He looked around for a moment, and then grabbed up the bottle of lube where it had falling on the floor from the vigor of your fucking. He poured a good deal of it (almost emptying it) over his cock, letting it leak down over your thigh, before he capped it and threw it away again. 

You smiled. 

“You really do like it wet, don’t you?” 

He simply nodded, and began moving his hips. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed him, taking a commanding hold on those narrow hips to guide him. He easily fell under your control, letting you guide his pace - which meant he moved in slow, languid, sloppy, wet (thanks to the lube) movements across your thigh - his cock dragging against your skin in a way that was delicious, but almost not enough at the same time. 

He began letting out whimpers, his face twisting with pleasure and the need for something more as his gut curled with a distinctive ache. As if sensing this, even unconsciously, you couldn’t help your mouth. 

“You look so pretty like this,” You told him, hot and breathy. 

Turns out - that was the something ‘more’ he so desperately needed. Hearing you call him ‘pretty’ would have been an insult on any other day, but today, it was downright delicious. Your voice curling around the word, directed at him - it felt like something he had been waiting to hear his whole life. 

“I love seeing you get off against my thigh, rubbing your pretty cock against me,” 

Stiles let out a moan and you felt him fighting to move faster, so you encouraged it, pushing and pulling his hips faster, causing more delicious friction on his cock. 

“Please, please-” He gasped. 

You knew it wouldn’t take much more. 

“You know, I’ve probably been waiting for this just as long as you have,” You whispered lowly in his ear, finally confessing your secret. “I’ve been watching you every single day, seeing how wonderful and dumb you are when you stare at me for hours, thinking I don’t notice. And I’ve just been waiting to pin you up against something and fuck your pretty little brains out-” 

Your words were cut off by him crying out, a wet splash against your thigh that had alerted you to him cumming. This was almost pathetic, just a few spurts of cum before it was over (you guessed that with how often he jerked off and from the fucking earlier, you had practically drained his balls). It made you curious if forcing him to abstain from masturbation for a few days would yield more impressive results. 

An experiment for later, you guessed. 

“Good boy.” 

You pulled him into another kiss, ultimately satisfied by the end result of your plan - leaving your panties on your bed as bait for Stiles to find as a way to gently tip him off to your attraction to him. It had worked out in the very best way. Even if you had to wait more than a week for the wheels to truly set in motion. 

… 

After a joint shower (which was filled with Stiles grinning at you, clearly soaking up the beauty of his luck in landing someone as gorgeous as you) - you changed the sheets on the bed while he made something to eat, and after the two of you ate together, you tucked him in to go to sleep. 

He was disappointed that you couldn’t stay the night, just as excited to do other non sexual things with you like wake up in your arms and hold your hand in the hallways at school - but you did have to get home before your curfew. Just as he was dosing off, you kissed him on the forehead, and you thought of something delightfully naughty for him to wake up to, even if you couldn’t be there. 

You took off the underwear that you were wearing - a pair of lacy blue ones, to match your bra - and you pinned them up on his corkboard for him to find in the morning. 

A perfect little present for your good boy.

… 

The next morning, Stiles woke up to a knock on his bedroom door. 

“Okay, rise n shine, kid, time for-” 

His father’s voice cut off abruptly, and Stiles didn’t have time to ponder why before-

“Dear god, what the hell is that?” 

Stiles shot up out of bed, practically falling on the floor, wondering what it could be - monster, werewolf, hunter, someone with a gun-

His eyes landed exactly where his dad was looking, and he was relieved not to find danger, and then terribly embarrassed to see your underwear from the day before pinned to his corkboard, spread out in plain view. Stiles immediately went into damage control mode. 

“Look, Dad, I can explain-” 

“You know what? I don’t wanna know.” His dad said firmly, making a motion with his hand that said he was brushing away the subject. “Just - get ready for school.” 

His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway, turning back to Stiles in a way that made his gut churn. 

“Just - did you use protection?” 

Stiles almost offered to show his father the used condom that was still sitting in the trash can - even if only as proof that the night before he had a real, living girl in his room. But he figured that would be going too far. 

“Yes.” He answered, calm and short. 

His dad nodded, and moved to leave again. He made it a bit further down the hallway this time before he turned around and appeared in the doorway again. 

“Son - you know, women aren’t objects, you can’t claim them like sexual conquests, and they deserve respect-” 

“Dad.” Stiles sharply cut off whatever speech his father was about to give, wanting his father to know that he hadn’t pinned the underwear to the corkboard himself. He wasn’t some fratboy who celebrated getting laid with a fucking trophy. 

“She - she gave them to me.” He said. “She did that.” He motioned to the underwear, and his father’s face shifted from anger to deep discomfort. 

“Oh.” He said simply. “Well - I - okay. I don’t wanna know any more.” He said firmly. “And for god’s sake, son, take them down.” 

Stiles nodded, rushing to do so. 

He was going to take them down - but he wasn’t rushing to give them back to you anytime soon.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and this has a distinct, intentional ending. There will NOT be a continuation or a 'Part 3'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for another sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider checking out my other fics about the criminally underrated character Isaac. Fics similar to this one are: Eager Little Puppy and Why Am I The One?

Or if you want more fics about subby boys, consider checking out Tongue Twister, Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop), or Lessons For A Genius.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

[jenjenmina]

Can I just say I once thought Alberu and Rosalyn would get married. No, I do not ship them. In fact, this made me almost quit reading the novel 😭😭. I was wrong and I am so happy.

I forget specifics because it was so long ago but it was when the gang is at this library (something something bud illis and mercenaries.) Cale is finally revealing Record. I believe they were looking for more information on Ancient powers but basically Cale is hot, he's sweaty and then they call the Crown Prince.

And during the call, Alberu's thoughts go to '…and I'm never getting married'. I wrote this in my bookmarks: "You saw Cale hot and sweaty and your thoughts went to marriage??". That's not important to the point, just thought I should mention it. But the interesting thing is, during the call, even I don't remember what it was but Alberu and Rosalyn talk about something and something just clicked in my brain.

As it point, tcf to me was not that special YET and it was just another fantasy 1000+ chapter brainrot like the cultivation novels I read, so romance wasnt something I would be surprised at. Plus, I always tried to guess which characters were getting set up to be together.

Something about Alberu and Rosalyn's conversation made me IMMEDIATELY assume that they were an endgame couple. I hated that. 'THEY DO NOT LOOK GOOD TOGETHER'. It actually made me dislike them both a little as characters (I changed my mind don't worry). Especially since it didn't make sense. Rosalyn ran away from royalty to be a mage, why the hell would she be queen of Roan?

But the way they actually did look like a generic couple is what made me dislike it. They did look like a generic fantasy endgame couple but Rosalyn x Alberu doesn't make sense (sorry to any shippers out there if there are). Plus something about the way marriage was mentioned and he had that conversation with Rosalyn, it felt like it was foreshadowing something and I guess I overthought it.

I was right, it didn't make sense, why the hell was I thinking that? When I tell you I SCREAMED and rolled my eyes everytime they interacted afterwards. I still loved them but they do not belong together.

What 'confirmed' it for me was when Cale, Raon and Rosalyn and some other people go to Alberu, eat some cookies after that library thing. Alberu mentions something about his childhood and Rosalyn thinks about how lonely he must've been and how hard it probably was. I didn't get to appreciate this sweet moment cause I was like "NOOOOOOOOOOO"

I got over it as some time passed but I still believed it would happen lol. I started to get comfortable with interacting with the fandom around chapters 600+. That's when I realized Rosalberu (cute ship name tho) isn't a thing in the fandom and there's no fanfics of it. Nothing's happened in hundreds of chapters and no one is talking about them as a couple.

For 600+ chapters, I thought Rosalyn and Alberu would get married. Once again, I'm sorry if this offends the 12 people who ship this, just thought it was funny how I genuinely believed it would be canon

[seokmn]

chapter 05.

wc: 0.5k words

warning: curse words

“you should try this one too!” chan showed you a strange and ugly dress while smirking. you looked at him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “babe, come on”

he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, “it would look great on you!”

“i would never put this on my beautiful body. i have love for myself, unlike anyone who would buy this thing..” he chuckled once more and nodded, agreeing with you. “then you should prove the ones you already have in hands, ill be waiting here. and don’t forget to show me every single one, okay?”

you nodded and went straight to one of the dressing rooms of the store to try out the pieces you and your boyfriend thought were pretty and would look good on you.

chan sat on the armchair and grabbed his phone, wanting to distract himself while waiting for you to come out of the dressing room. “what the hell..?” he muttered to himself when he saw the bunch of notifications he had. he opened the groupchat and as he read the texts all he could think was oh no, what did i do.

chan immediately opened the twitter and deleted the post as fast as he could, even tho he knew that deleting at that moment werent going to do that much of a difference. he ran his fingers through his hair and looked conflicted, what would he do after this? did his manager know about that tweet already? he checked his messages once again, eyes widening as he saw his manager’s text. he probably did know about that tweet. fuck.

chan was so lost in his own – possibly ruined – world that he didnt even hear you calling out his name or see you in front of him wearing one of the shirts you got to try on until you shook your hand right in front of his face, “earth calling channie, i repeat, earth calling channie” he blinked a few times and looked at you, his expression immediately changed and he smiled, hiding his real state of desperation.

“woah.. i liked it! give me a little spin” he said standing up and trying his best to focus only on you and the shirt you were wearing. you happily spun around to show him the shirt, “so? what do you think?”

“totally loved. it really suits you, babe” you gave him some small claps of happiness and smiled, “im going to try the other ones. keep waiting and please dont zoom out again!” he gave you thumbs up and sat on the armchair once again to wait for you.

he stayed like that for the rest of the day, acting like everything was fine and being the amazing boyfriend he always was to you while in the back of his mind he was dying of anxiety. he didnt want to worry you or ruin your evening and maybe he was overreacting, right? maybe people didn’t actually care about the tweet he posted on the wrong account and maybe his manager wanted to talk to him about another thing, who knows? all he knew at that moment was that he needed to enjoy the time with you in order to relax and not let the anxiety get the best of him.

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: @ivehypnosis @k1eev @ateez-atiny380 @noircheols @222brainrot @odxrilove @vixensss

[velvetvexations]

you know I think the way you rant and rave about privileged transfems combined with the way you seem to think transmisogyny did not exist before IDing as transfem leads me to think you might be very very privileged

I don't even know what that accusation about what I "seem" to think means, do you think I think transmisogyny doesn't affect trans women before they come out? Because that's dumb and very wrong.

You know what, though? I'll concede that if there's something I have a good chance of being wrong about, it's my blanket accusation that trans people who spend every day fabricating oppression and bigotry from other trans people must necessarily be privileged as hell. That could be a hasty observation made in anger. But then I think about the temper tantrums about shark plushies, and gentrified kinks, and appropriating transfem memes, and oh ho ho, it's so hard to not come to that conclusion! It's so, so hard.

But because other people whose opinions I care about have given me pushback on the subject and suggested I shouldn't judge people that way, I will kindly, generously agree that a trans man who wants so badly to believe he's seen as a man by transphobes that he insists he has structural power over women might still have Actual Problems going on but because the door to his bedroom is a little too low he keeps bonking his head every night and forgetting the entire day like he's Fred Flintstone. And I'll accept that maybe a trans woman who never talks about hate crimes or legislative genocide or actual exclusion except when having a meltdown because someone else said they also get deliberately targeted might face real issues that her delicate fragile body made of literal glass is somehow managing to endure.

Happy?

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

I guess since I always write about X-Men when drunk, let me talk to you about Scott Summers.

Now look, Scott has a lot of haters, many of them my friends. I even agree with them. There's no easy way to take in Scott Summers. Because more than anything, Scott Summers is a question.

What do you do when they take it from you?

The answer can be many things. If you're Xavier, the answer is, you deny people their childhood. Scott, you're a child soldier by 13. You have just survived a traumatic plane crash in which your family seemingly all died. If you look at people, they die too, and it's your fault. You wear a literal filter to interact with everyone. Sometimes they tell you they're mad and you don't understand. The filter isn't thick enough. Xavier pats your head and tells you this is how it is. You have to be better. You have to be better than them. You have to be better than everybody.

If you're Magneto, the answer is your life. He had everything taken away from him so thoroughly, so long ago, that you, Scott, can't even fathom it. He's introduced to you while stealing nuclear warheads to threaten people who hate you. Every word Xavier has ever told you stings in your brain, like a worm. This is wrong. This is the enemy. He's doing it wrong. He's getting a bad grade at being a mutant. These feelings will poke at you for the rest of your life. You will come to disagree with them. By the time you're 40, you couldn't imagine a more steadfast ally than Magneto. He gets it, you see. No one else gets it like Max does.

If you're Jean Grey, the answer is fire. Create fire. Look for fire. Date a guy who can shoot fire from his eyes. Who can spit fire from his mouth and raise the dead with his words. Who can stand before the apocalypse and burn, burn as hard as fire can burn, as hot as a volcano, enough that the police are involved, that the Avengers are involved, that the gods are involved. Burn and burn and turn to ash and burn further until they stop telling you you're worthless. They never will. But Scott will never be one of them. He would rather burn everlasting than tell you you're less than what you think you are.

If you're Emma, it's kill them from the inside. Become part of the problem to make the problem go away. Meet the problem in their house. Fuck the problem. Buy the problem. Kill the problem by giving them a stroke. Emma thinks you, Scott, could be so much more. You could end the problem in a day, two days tops. You could rally them and radicalize them and make them see how insidious the problem is. But you never would. You tried, and it didn't agree to you. It got weird. You got weird.

If you're Logan, the answer is drinking. You drink and you try to forget, but you never do. You can't. You hang out with this guy, this beautiful, certain, consistent man, and you can't forget what you've lost, but you can make new memories. You can be someone else. You can put on a robe and lay down on a lazy chair and drink near Scott, overlooking the Earth, and you can think, I never want to forget this. I never want to not be here, with Scott, looking over everything. Feeling like I do, doing the things I do, having the relationship I do with him. But eventually it all goes away again, and you remember, right, I'm a violent person, I'm made for battle, I don't deserve love, I don't deserve Scott, I don't deserve anything. I deserve the woods. The wolves. The simplicity. The desire to forget, but never quite getting there. If you're Logan, you don't actually have an answer. Your whole life is a question without an answer.

And then you're Scott. You wonder what you should do when they take it from you. You're surrounded by people radicalized by their choices on how to react to that. You're radicalized by your mistakes. You're radicalized by the fights, the torture, the betrayal, the time in space, the time in hell, the time suffering. Every year of your life was the worst year of your life. Everything you've ever done is a thing to be mocked and used as a standard at the same time. No one knows who you are aside from the guy to listen to. You're 40. You're a father. You're tired. Your first instinct upon being given everything was gathering your family and moving; to the moon, even, where no one could hurt you. And then they took that away from you, too.

So, what do you do?

There's only really one answer.

You sigh, you put on the suit, you do some voice training, you call some friends. You do a speech. You suppress the feeling that it's futile, because that feeling is the oppressor, too. And you say it, like you've said it a thousand times, like you'll say it a thousand times more, like you were made to say, like you were taught to say, like your entire legacy will revolve around how you say this single phrase.

You will say this from your chest. You will say this when no one else is around and no one else is listening. You will say it because it's the right thing to say, and god damn it, at the end of the day, you will never acquiesce. You will never compromise. You will, in fact, always say it, for the rest of your life and beyond. When you're dead and buried and not coming back on the regular, people will still talk about how right you were when you said it, how righteous you sounded when you said it, and how certain you were when you said it.

You say it when they're attacking, you say it when you're attacking, you say it as a defense, you say it as a response, you say it as every figure of importance in your life has given way to compromise or disappointment; as everyone has left you, and has moved on, and has decided oppression doesn't equal a life poorly lived, and has asked you to lose their number because they can't do this anymore, it has taken too much from them and they don't want this to be their lives.

You say you understand, you lose their number, you stop relying on them, and you start saying it to others. Sometimes to people who are too young, but they get it. This is the only appropriate reaction, after all. You were Scott and you were 13 years old when you were a soldier. They can do that, too.

What do you do when they take everything away from you?

Scott Summers sighs and fills his chest with air.

When they take it all from you, Cyclops says "To me, my X-Men."