#and making all kinds of dumb jokes and ignorant comments

[an-ivy-covered-summer]

not to be a jerk, but every day i wake up and feel thankful that taylor is not dating a baseball player. i know i wouldn’t be so patient with all the godawful discourse and takes i see on social media if it were about my favorite thing in life lol

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.

A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!

IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you. 

The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him. 

Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.

You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore. 

Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn. 

You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather. 

You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics. 

Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies. 

And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners. 

Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war. 

Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him. 

You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite. 

While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you. 

That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying. 

Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in. 

You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet. 

There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace. 

You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.

“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.” 

“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless. 

“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.” 

You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not. 

“I simply did my duty, my lord.”

Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you. 

“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it. 

“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all. 

“He is a child.” You say, slowly.  “No person would leave a child in need.” 

“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner. 

“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal. 

“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.  

“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are. 

“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over. 

He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?

“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good. 

“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.”  Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him. 

“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion. 

“We do not believe that here.” 

“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue. 

“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.” 

“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt. 

YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.

“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing. 

It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are. 

“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you. 

“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.” 

One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter. 

“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.” 

“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries. 

You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler. 

As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.

“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart. 

Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you. 

“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”

You cannot help but smile a little. 

“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.” 

Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so. 

The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms. 

“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf. 

You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things. 

It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise. 

“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.

“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you. 

“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.” 

It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you. 

“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world. 

“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.” 

“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words. 

All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him. 

What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe. 

And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!

“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was bad. 

You were falling in love with Cregan. 

“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace. 

Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words. 

“Neither do I.”

SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare. 

Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands. 

That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.

“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!” 

“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.” 

Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.

“What is fascinating?” 

“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.

His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment. 

“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman. 

“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.” 

“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.” 

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.” 

“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.” 

“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara. 

“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines. 

“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.” 

“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.” 

“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all. 

“Of course.”

Sara positively beams. 

“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.” 

“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised. 

“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.” 

“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking. 

“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.” 

Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help. 

Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you. 

He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you. 

He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs. 

It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it. 

[hyewka]

Ranaaa sub!jjunie content is so dry plis make a drabble with it tooo :(

warning: free use, degradation, misogyny, brat taming, sub!yeonjun, asshole!yeonjun, oppa use but its once 😭younger reader

perfect timing because all i can have brainrot over is taming bratty yeonjun like i love obedient subs but jesus christ imagine having an egotistical pompous asshole grovel at your feet.

an au where hes your older brothers best friend whos always been in your life, constantly berating and making unfunny jabs at you in front of your brothers friend group since highschool; you thought oh well, you wouldn’t have to put up with it any longer once they graduate. to your demise, your brother and yeonjun get closer. they even choose to go to the same exact college. then, your brother lets you move in with him with no worry of paying overpriced rent. it feels like a gift from heaven until you come to dooming realization everythings going too well, too good to be true. the nagging instinct proves to be true as not only does yeonjun visit the apartment every day, he even sleeps over at times. its hell.

because now instead of making dumb teenage jokes about girls like he used to, hes turned into some weirdly overprotective guardian. making snarky comments on what you’re wearing whenever you go out, or giving you a scolding about how men “really” are for the tenth time and how oh youre so naive, you’re perfect prey for the kinds of guys in the “real world”. he talks your ear off, and when he gives that up he moves to belittle you and berate. its all hes good at. leech.

its no surprise seeing yeonjun on the couch again, you cant even kick him out because your brother pays like 80% of the rent—thats the con of paying less. you can’t fully treat this apartment like your place.

you also aren’t surprised when he catches you, eyes narrowing as they look you up and down. he sighs. you ignore it, putting on your heels.

“are you really going out like that?”

just ignore.

“i keep telling you its not safe to wear stuff like this but you don’t listen.”

ignore him.

“you know there are men out there who—hey, are you even listening?”

ignore.

“hey!” he yells, straightening up. you give him a glare this time, fool. you see the beer cans laying around everywhere. he’s a fool. good for nothing, a pretty face wasted on a fucked personality. he slumps back against the couch, tsking. “forget it. i’m just looking out for you while your brother can’t but okay, whatever, dress like a whore all you want. just don’t expect to be treated with-”

the rooms silent. all you feel is the burning numb feeling on your palm and rage snuffed the moment your hand landed across his face. you slapped him so hard, when he looks at you with wide wet eyes and a split lip, you let out a dry laugh. you feel everything rush back to you. all those humiliating memories. “seriously, who do you think you are? you’ve berated me those two years, embarrassed me, treated me like shit in front of people, and now you want to act like some fuckass parent?”

he flounders, you see the fear and confusion in his eyes, the way his lips part to say something only to come out with nothing. you grab his face, gripping it hard. “slut shaming me for what i wear? in this year? god, you must really not have a conscience.”

“i’m not slut shaming you! i’m just protecting-”

“protecting me? is that what you wanted to say? really?” you sneer, putting your knee between his legs, “what are you protecting me from? guys like you? perverted, sleazy, good for nothings?”

his cheeks are deep shade of red, it could be from how rough you��re gripping his face, or how hard you slapped him earlier or it’s him blushing. all those possibilities are amusing to you—you like it in fact. he’s stammering, shaking his head, trying to pull your hand off him. but he fails, which visibly gets him even more haughty and embarrassed. poor guy, he looks like he’s about to sob.

“what the fuck has gotten into you!? you’re speaking to me informally like i’m not your-"

“senior? oppa?” you push your thumb past his lips, and he panics again but you make sure to press on his tongue particularly hard. “you’re not any of those things, stupid mutt.”

you’ve always fantasized about being on top, someone taking charge of one whos always under your control, reacting to every touch or twist, you just didn’t expect to be in a predicament where yeonjun’s the one you’re feeling the burning desire to ruin. all of him, you want to ruin him.

seeing as how his eyes have welled up enough tears that they could spill any moment, it didn’t look too hard. “gosh, with the way you parade around, i’d think you wouldn’t be so easy to break.” you laugh coldly.

“y-you didn’t break me, fucking bitch. i’ll tell your brother-" he sounds like an actual fool talking, you could barely make out what hes saying, but lucky for him you caught on to the gist.

“no, you’re seriously a sleazebag. you go on and on about how men really are, warning me about this and that, but right now you could easily manhandle and overpower me, but you just sit here. and fuck, you pop a boner at me being slightly mean to you? tell me, was it the dress that you’re telling me not to wear out? calling you a stupid mutt? my leg? or god forbid, the slap?” you smirk at seeing his eyes widen looking down, they might really pop. did he really not know he got hard?

“pervert. you really were just warning me about guys like you... perverts.”

you shove two fingers in his mouth, simultaneously choking him and shutting him up, serves him right. “i bet you’ve jerked off this pathetic dick of yours to the thought of me. is that why you feel the need to berate me? to cover for your guilty conscience? stupid mutt.” you’ve having too much fun with this, seeing him not fight back, just sitting there taking it, letting his tears drip down. choi yeonjun…a crybaby. who would’ve thought.

you don’t mean for it to go any further, its just a little scare to get him off your back, a little grinding against his clothed hard on, just a little to have him elicit a whiny moan, just a little to have his senses overwhelmed—a little to have him humiliated with spilling his slimy seed in his pants so quick, sticky cum staining his boxers. leaving him there on the couch, overstimulated and pathetic, breathless, with an arm draped over his face, while you go out to the party you’re a bit too late for.

no jackets to appease him, no change of clothes, it felt freeing. you should do this more often.

then imagine smothering your cunt on his face, pinning the stupid asshole down just frustrated out of your mind and using him to have him shut the fuck up for once. his incessant whining and squirming under you dies down..eventually. then he stops pretending to not like it anymore, and you hear the squelching. he’s jacking off. he’s been so annoying and you’ve been sexually frustrated for the past week— getting a scolding from your professor today was the final straw. luckily for you, yeonjun said something to piss you off again.

he hasn’t stopped since that day, actually you figure him being an asshole only got worse after that incident. he’s more mean, despite humiliating him over and over again. you even positioned him to bend over your lap when your brother was out, spanking him until he shook, cheeks beet red. no matter how much you humiliate and berate him, it doesnt deter him, he only becomes worse outside of sex. “god, you’re super fucking annoying, you know that?” you groan, sliding your cunt back and forth his face, gripping his hair.

you can’t be mad for long when he’s making an effort to actually make you feel good, eagerly opening his mouth, lewd eyes looking up at you through his wet lashes as he eats you out—you find it cute almost. you dispel the thought, and decide to look elsewhere other than his face to keep your mind off. this is for your pleasure, not his, focus on that high building up.

its a weird relationship, you and yeonjun. he lets you use him however you like despite his complaining, he says he doesn’t want it, then he purposefully riles you up—you know that because every time he does it and you take his bait successfully, you find he isn’t in any underwear. bastard.

“stop jerking off freak.” you grit, shutting your eyes as you get sloppier and quicker, so …close. you can hear he followed your demand, the only sound being your desperate grinding. then you feel his whine, it sends some vibration, like he’s really a mutt begging for you to look at him. you ignore it, you’re good at that. but then he turns his head to your thigh, biting the flesh and you jolt. this indecent brat! you take two fistfuls of his stupid dyed hair, and move just a little more. a little more, and you cum all over his face.

minutes go by after you orgasmed and you’re on your back, on your bed, kicking him out with the lower half of his face glistening, wet with your cum. “leave.” you regard him coldly and he rolls his eyes, frowning, wordlessly shutting your door aggressively. a smile slowly spreads across your face as the realization sets in; he’s probably mad you blue balled him. serves choi yeoniun right.

this is definitely some much needed therapeutic healing.

[universalrainbow]

The mask = muted player idea is so funny to me for some reason.

Like

Poppy: "did you really think I was just ignoring you the entire time?"

Player, casually: "idk, I just kinda thought you hated me."

Poppy: [suddenly looks very sad]

Player: "oh. Oh no, please don't be sad, I didn't mean it like that-"

Also, with how chatty player is now, imagine the others wondering just how much they missed out on. Player always seems to have something to say, be it a quickwitted joke, an inquisitive remark, or an exclamation of delight.

Given the grab pack, I assume there wasn't much hand gesturing to convey conversation (and the mask probably obscured eye movements), but there still would have been some moments. Player looking and tilting their head, jerking their chin at something as if making a comment, rapid nodding or shaking.

Thinking back, the others now recognize one sided conversations.

Player is still (playfully) sad their witty commentary went unheard, but it might be for the best. Now any impulsive dumb comments are unknown, and any angry or startled swearing has gone undetected.

(I feel like Player would have been spitting the foulest swears and threats for the doctor after the first freeze incident with Doey. Seeing the poor guy in obvious pain awakens vengeful, protective rage in them. That kind of cruelty Will Not Stand)

Poppy: "did you really think I was just ignoring you the entire time?"

Player, casually: "idk, I just kinda thought you hated me."

Poppy: [suddenly looks very sad]

Player: "oh. Oh no, please don't be sad, I didn't mean it like that-"

doey: "wait so did you think all of us hated you?"

player flinches a bit knowing where this was going: " well..... kinda? its nothing against you guys I swear! its just from my point of view.....no matter what i said, did, or tried to explain. Nothing was really acknowledged. I mean despite only working on the first level as a gift shop employee-"

doey : "wait hold on gift shop?? You weren't a scientist or idk a caretaker??"

player confused: " no? I was a broke newly orphaned 18 year old with no college degree. I was paid dirt wages, while getting yelled at by parents. I wasn't really qualified for either. let alone morally corrupt enough to go along with it."

Toys: newly orphaned....

player casually: oh yea my mom died a few months before my dad, heart disease. Then dad didn't take care of himself and just went in his sleep. Thankfully I was legally an adult at the time.hehe

Toys squeaking to each other: ....Are they more traumatized than us at this point???

player oblivious: Anyway wanna hear about the time my coworker tried to push me into a toy machine because i accidentally ate their sandwitch?

toys squeaking to each other: yep they definitely are.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the factory, players responses.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

mommy long legs explaining the wack a huggy game.

player: Dear god, they just had kids wopping these things without a second thought? What the F**k?! why were the supposed brightest people alive testing fate! This is how you get killed in horror movies. This is what horror shows and games warn about! the warning is dont be a massive D**K for no reason to things clearly more powerful than you!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

player on the first train, scared S**tless: "WERE GOING ON A TRIP IN OUR FAVORITE PEICE OF S**T GOING 95! IM GONNA F**KING DIE!!!!!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Player falls into pianasorous pit

pianasorous notices them

player full of dread :"clever girl"

Doey appears and eats pianasoros.

player : "OH WHAT THE F-"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

player going to fight the prototype

player: Im sleep deprived, hungry, and all out of F**ks! You think YOUR SCARY! I EAT PIZZA WITH PINEAPPLE ON IT!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

player after winning against the prototype: huff........huff i have made the metal one pay for his crimes.

[rhyrhy]

Hear me out… Hockey show off/star Abby and Nerd reader?

Hockey! Abby Drabble

Current day,

“Are you following me?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to see her still, there.

“No” she said quickly. “But let’s say .. I was”

“How would you uh—feel about that?” She added.

“You’re joking right?”

This has been going on for weeks now. Is the same routine, you get done with class and there she is. In all her mighty, jersey number #14, Anderson. Abby, Anderson. Whether it’s her on her phone, talking with a friend, or just leaning on the wall staring into space. She’s waiting. For who actually? She won’t out right say it but you.

At first you thought it was a joke. What on earth did she suddenly want with you. You’ve gone to same school since what, 10th grade. And she never looked your direction then. But for exactly 3 weeks and today being the fourth day like clockwork after your afternoon class, the daunting sight of a tall, blondish- brunette seem to have been filling your vision like clockwork.

“I don’t have time for whatever this is” you brush her off.

“Oh come on. You always do this” she sighs. Following behind you.

Four weeks ago,

She’d never tell you but it did indeed start that way. After a game, the locker room was rowdy per usual. Slaps on the back and bumping shoulders excitedly, after another win.

Abby pulls t-shirt over her shoulder, covering her torso. Hair still damp from the showers.

And Nora continued to list off names. Someone was blasting music from a speaker shoved into a duffel bag. But teammate nora Trying to figure out the current roster that seems to always be rotating. She stretched out her legs and continued.

“Jessica”

“Pass”

“Amanda?”

“Yikes. Hard pass”

Then your name comes up and her head cocks.

“..Are you just making up names now?” she asked, half-distracted.

“No, dumbass know the one with like” she proceeds to vaguely describe you. Emphasize the curve of your ass, typical her. It was less about your personality and more about the way you carried yourself, the way you dressed, the way your legs looked when you walked across campus.

“No idea.” Abby shrugged, turning back to her locker.

“Bullshit,” Nora said, sitting up. “You’ve had classes together since high school.”

“And?”

“And,” Leah cut in, “it’s funny how you don’t notice them, but they definitely don’t notice you either.”

That made Abby pause. Just for a second.

It was a dumb comment, offhand, not meant to stick. But something about it did.

Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? People noticed her. People knew her name before she ever said it. On the ice, around campus—she was used to the attention, even if she didn’t always care for it.

But you? You really didn’t seem to care. And for whatever reason, that got under her skin.

“Maybe she’s just not into the whole hockey thing,” Abby said, shaking it off.

“Or maybe she’s just not into you,” Nora teased, grinning.

That shouldn’t have mattered.

But the next day, when she happened to pass by your class right as it let out, she lingered. Just a second too long. Just long enough to see the way you walked right past her without a second glance.

And then she did it again. And again.

Now?

Now she wasn’t sure if she was waiting for you to notice her— Or if she was afraid you never would. Creepy or not, you were kind of easy to stalk considering you were a creature of habit.

It started with just her putting a face to the name.

Nora was right about..certain attributes. Besides that part, after scolding herself for being a dog. You did keep to yourself, more soft spoken than she was. Aesthetic wise, you two clashed completely.

And you totally caught her staring. A gaze you felt from yards away, blue shards digging into your skin.

Of course you’d picked up on this little dance. she stuck out like a sore thumb on the opposite side of campus. eyes always on yours or places they shouldn’t.

You ignored it, hard.

And the first time she asked you out, you almost laughed in her face. Because she had to be joking.

Until she asked a second , then a third with flowers. And today was probably going to be the fourth. There was simply no escaping those blonde locs and board shoulders.

Current day

“Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted.” You don’t even look at her.

Abby huffs a laugh, but there’s an edge to it. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

You sigh. “And?”

“And—” she steps in front of you, cutting you off. Close enough that you have to stop walking. Close enough that the air between you gets heavier. “You keep pretending like you don’t care, but if you really didn’t, you’d tell me to fuck off for good.”

She waits. Watches your expression. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You haven’t shut her down completely. Just enough to make her work for it. And she was a dog after her bone.

But you don’t let that show. You tip your head, unimpressed. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you try.” Suppressing your amusement.

Abby exhales sharply, shaking her head like she’s trying not to smile. Like she hates that she likes this.

“Tomorrow then,” she mutters, finally stepping aside

And just like that, it’s another round. One she intends on winning.

Not proofread just pulled it out my butt ngl , lowkey might come back to this though

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 2

“For good services and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre militaryljk x fuckbuddy!oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, a bit of angst, flirting, TENSION. lowkey mean manager. kind of dramatic oc.

wc: 4k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

masterlist , <prev | next>

It’s 1am, and you and Nari have decided to have a girls night at her apartment. Nari’s apartment is cosy, you and her are sat in front of her TV on her comfy floor-sofa (Which you convinced her to buy rather than a traditional sofa.) She’s glad to have listened however, night’s like these sitting on her floor, blasting music and simply enjoying each other’s company with side of wine make you grateful for having this kind of friendship.

You’d both came straight after work. It’s been a couple of days, two exactly, since Jungkook and his friends had showed up to your work, and you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince when you tell yourself you don’t care and all the exchanges between you were simply out of respect and making small talk. But honestly, who cares? Jungkook is undeniably attractive, you’re probably just another waiter he’s hitting on for fun, you’ll likely never see him again and you don’t wan-

“Do you think we’ll see them again?” Nari’s voice cuts through your thoughts, realising you’ve not been paying attention to the TV playing in the background. “Who?”

She scoffs, tucking her feet under her knees, nudging yours. “Don’t play dumb,” She’s smirking at you, and you’re biting your lip before you answer.

“I doubt it, why? And does it even matter?” You’re taking a sip of your wine, playing it cool, but Nari’s already deadpanning you as you avoid eye contact with her.

“Y/n, you don’t have to lie to me!” Shes whining, giving you puppy dog eyes and you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“Okay- Fine, maybe i do want them to come back, but i honestly don’t care if they don’t, i mean they’re just normal people right? Also, I heard some of their fans are crazy and i seriously don’t want to get caught in the middle of- What the fuck!”

Your breath catches in your throat while you stare at your phone screen, wine glass frozen mid air. Nari, instantly alert, scoots closer, “What?! What happened?”

You don’t answer, too busy reading the words in front of you. It’s a Twitter post- in fact, multiple posts—flooding your screen mid-rant, you’d decided to search Jungkook’s name up and it turns out, he wasn’t the only talk of the town today.

“JEON JUNGKOOK SPOTTED TALKING TO A MYSTERY GIRL AT RESTAURANT IN SEOUL WHO IS SHE?”

Beneath it is a blurry photo of you standing beside their table- table 3. You can tell it was taken secretly—the angle is weird, the lighting is off, but it’s unmistakably you. And even more unmistakably him. In the picture, it’s only Jungkook talking to you, the others are engrossed into the food, and Jungkook’s smirking up at you. And the comments?

“Omg she’s so lucky wtf.”

“They look kinda cute together not gonna lie.”

“Who is she??? Someone find her @.”

“She better stay away.”

“She’s literally doing her job, y’all are so weird.”

“THIS BETTER BE FAKE.”

“Oh shit.” Nari’s snatching your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the posts with wide eyes, and your stomach is churning, the longer you sit there, the more you feel like vomit’s crawling up your throat.

“Theyre talking about me..” You whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it worser than it already is. Nari hums in agreement, still scrolling. “Yep. And they’re crazy. Look at this one—‘someone find her @’? What the fuck?”

Your heart pounds as you snatch the phone back, scrolling faster. The tweet has thousands of likes already, and it’s spreading. You can see people speculating in real-time, some trying to figure out your name, others joking about Jungkook flirting with every waitress he meets.

You try to ignore that. Seeing the far bigger issue at hand.

You hate the spotlight. And this was seriously your worst nightmare, and definitely not how you’d want to end up in it if you ever did.

“Fuck- what if Jungkook sees this? What if he thinks i’ve taken the picture- Oh my god what if he thinks im a creep! I can’t, Nari-“

“Okay, first of all, he probably will see it eventually-“ That somehow makes your stomach drop further, he’ll see it. What a stupid question, of course he will. He’ll see the picture, the comments and all the speculation. “And y/n, that doesn’t even make sense, why and how would you take a picture of yourself, from that angle too?”

“I don’t know!” you groan, throwing yourself back onto the floor sofa, staring up at the ceiling. This is too much. You were fine just a few minutes ago, sipping wine and enjoying your night. Now your face is floating around Twitter alongside his, and you don’t know what to do about it.

Nari nudges your leg, giving you a look of sympathy . “Look, it’s like 2am, let’s sleep it off for now, it’ll probably die down soon, forget about this.”

You wish you could believe that. But as your phone continues to buzz, you have a sinking feeling this is just the beginning.

——

You’re shuffling through the backdoor of the restaurant, head down low and mentally cursing yourself for actually coming to work today. First of all, you’re hungover and you’d tossed and turned next to Nari all night, trying to avoid your phone and updating yourself on the… scandal.

It took some convincing on Nari’s side for you to actually come to work today. After she’d woken you up at the crack of fucking dawn all you wanted to do was go home and rot in bed, and maybe shoot your phone too. Avoid the drama.

Eventually, you gave in. Realising that suddenly not showing up makes you look suspicious- guilty. And that’s why you’re walking in, the smell of grease filling your nose.

Nari’s already behind the bar, handling customers. She notices you, waving while the regulars also wave, you smile back, however it doesn’t really reach your eyes and you know she notices.

—

You’ve changed into your work slacks and shirt, walking up to Nari when the buzz of the early morning starts to die down a bit.

“You seriously look like you wanna die.” Nari snorts when you rub your eyes, sliding a bottle of water in front of you, and you grab it and chug it fast. “Damn, thirsty much?”

You groan, crossing your arms after putting the bottle into the trash, “That obvious?”

“Just a little.” She winks, leaning against the bar, propping her chin on her palm. “But, at least you showed up. I was worried you’d actually quit and run off to live in the mountains or something. And- leave me here, to serve overpriced coffee and processed food to rich people, alone!”

You’re grinning when you look back at her and retort, “Honestly tempting, thanks for the idea.”

“Mm, I don’t think you’d last. No phone, no music, nothing.”

“You’re right, who am i kidding? I’d die within a day.” You’re rubbing your eyes again, sighing. “I still don’t know why I even bothered coming here today, everything’s moving pretty slow,”

Nari’s deadpanning you, “Its 10am. And this restaurant is never quiet. And you’re also a responsible adult with bills to pay.”

“Or because someone called Nari guilt-tripped me into it.”

“That too,” she grins.

For a split second, things feel normal—just the usual banter between you and Nari. No online chaos, no invasive speculation. Just work. Just routine.

Then, of course, the moment doesn’t last.

Two customers approach the bar, and before you can ask what they’d like to order, one of them leans in a little too eagerly.

“Oh my god,” the girl whispers, eyes wide with excitement. “You’re that girl, aren’t you?”

You blink, already knowing where this is going. “…What?”

“You know,” she grins, as if she’s in on some big secret. “The one from Twitter! The one Jungkook was talking to! We came to the right place, Unni! Oh my god- you have to tell me where he sat, where did he sit?!”

They’re both squealing, looking around the restaurant. Your stomach sinks. And just like that, the peace is gone.

Nari’s rolling her eyes, and you simply reply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She’s totally lying! You’re pretty- i guess, seems like the type of girl he’d go for surely, you can tell us, we wont say anything.” They’re winking, as if you’d tell a stranger that you’re dating a major celebrity. Crazy fans! You cant help but clench your jaw, you take a glance down and you notice they’re sporting Jung-kook’s merch, photo cards, keychains, you name it. You make a mental note to not slip anything about him at all, as if theres any thing to slip anyway… right?

“Im not lying, he only came here to eat, thats it, im just doing my job.” You clearly sound annoyed, and it’s getting worse when you see they clearly cant take a fucking hint.

The second girl gasps, grabbing her friend’s arm. “She’s totally lying!”

The first one giggles. “Come on! Tell us! You’re telling me you actually got to interact with the Jeon Jungkook and you arent telling anyone? Did he say anything? Does he flirt in real life the way he does on camera? Oh my god- are you.. secretly dating?!”

Your jaw tightens, irritation bubbling up. It’s always the same thing—his looks, his charm, the way he flirts on camera. No one ever seems to care about anything beyond that. It’s like he isn’t a real person to them, just some fantasy they like to add shit onto.

And now, because you happened to cross paths with him, they’re dragging you into it too. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be some character in the story of Jeon Jungkook’s life.

Your fingers tighten around the rag in your hand. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your patience, but the way they’re both gawking at you like you’re some kind of rare exhibit is making your skin crawl.

“I was just doing my job. That’s it.”

“But-“

Nari’s had enough. She’s barging beside you, slightly nudging you to the side. “Seriously?! She she’s already said nothing happened, do you not have anything better to do?” One of the girl’s flinch at her raised voice slightly, “So if you’re not here to actually buy food and just here to harrass my friend, i suggest you leave before i call security.”

The first girl’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, while her friend looks absolutely scandalized.

“Harassing?! We weren’t harassing her!”

“Yeah, you kind of were,” Nari deadpans.

“Now, what’s it gonna be? Drinks, or are you leaving?”

A pause. Then, with a few grumbles under their breaths, the girls exchange one last look before turning on their heels and storming off.

Nari watches them go, rolling her eyes. “Fucking weirdos.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slumping against the counter. “I seriously hate this.”

She clicks her tongue, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, well. Better get used to it.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Tell that to Jungkook if he shows up again.”

Your heart stops, he wouldn’t… right? Not again. Unless he hasn’t seen the shambles on social media, which you highly doubt. Him coming here again is a recipe for destruction.

—

You spoke too soon once again.

You’re already having a bad day, but this? This honestly just makes everything worse.

Are you fucking serious?

You’re lowering your head slightly, glancing toward the entrance as Jungkook walks in—alone. Of course, he is. Because why wouldn’t he want make this even harder for you? It’s not enough that people have been whispering, not enough that eyes linger on you when they think you won’t notice. Now he’s here, and there’s nothing to remove the attention. No group of friends, no distraction, just him walking in alone so casually, like he owns the place, completely unaware of the storm you’re stuck in because of him.

You exhale sharply, gripping the menu a little too tight as he scans the restaurant. It’s almost a relief when he picks a booth in the back—almost. At least from there, you’ll have a good view of anyone sneaky enough to try taking pictures. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s here, and now you have to deal with it.

“Do you want me to go instead?” Nari asks under her breath, her voice low so only you can hear.

“No, I have to go talk to him.“ Shes giving you a smile and nod of encouragement, and you pick up a menu, smiling back and walking over to the booth.

By the time you reach him, your frustration is simmering just under your skin, and you don’t even bother hiding it. Instead of setting the menu down gently, you drop it onto the table with a sharp thwap. Jungkook flinches, looking up at you with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard. Your heart clenches at his big, huge doe eyes. Why does he have to be so… cute! Ugh!

You cross your arms, glaring at him.”Seriously?”

He blinks. “Uh… what?”

You scoff. “Why am I in the middle of this?” You gesture vaguely, but he knows exactly what you mean. The posts, the speculation, the hushed conversations happening the moment you turn your back. “I really don’t want to be a part of this.”

For a moment, Jungkook just watches you. Then he leans back slightly, draping an arm lazily over the back of the booth, like this is just another casual conversation. Like this is nothing to him. “It happens all the time,” he says, completely unfazed, and you couldn’t be more pissed off. “I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah, of course you’re just sorry, well guess what Jungkook, im not you, okay? I’m not used to this- I dont want to be in this”

You don’t mean to snap, but the words come out sharper than you intended. Something flickers in Jungkook’s expression. His confidence doesn’t disappear entirely, but he’s hesitating and biting his lip ring—just for a second. His gaze flickers across your face like he’s actually seeing you now, realizing this isn’t just some minor inconvenience for you. You don’t know what to make of that. It throws you off, just a little. But you hold your ground.

“Im sorry, I didn’t want this to happen- I know how it feels, and ill do what i can to get it under control.” He’s speaking softer, looking up at you before he gets distracted by something in the back.

Before either of you can say anything else, Nari arrives with utensils and plates , setting them down a little harder than necessary. You startle.

“Here you go.”

Jungkook barely acknowledges her, murmuring a quick, “Thank you,” before reaching for his utensils. The interaction is completely normal—just a regular customer getting his order—but you watch anyway, searching for something you can’t quite name.

You trail off after Nari, giving him a tight lipped smile, picking up the plates around the tables near him. Something distracts you- someone. He’s old, in a casual, but smart outfit. Walking up to Jungkook. The man himself seems quite annoyed, like he dosen’t want to be there. You figure he’s his manager.

You’re still watching when Jungkook’s manager walks in and slides into the seat across from him.

Immediately, the atmosphere changes.

“You seriously need to lay low,” his manager says in a hushed but firm voice.

Your grip tightens around the tray in your hands. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but you don’t have to. The tension is clear as day, thick enough to press against your chest. You don’t know why, but something about the conversation makes you uneasy.

Jungkook doesn’t say much—just nods along, eyes downcast as he eats. Whatever they’re talking about, it’s serious.

You decide it’s time for a toilet break.

—

As you step into the bathroom, the cool air and muffled hum of the restaurant give you a moment to breathe. Exhaling slowly, shaking your head to yourself. This entire night has been one giant headache, and you’re barely keeping up.

The door swings open behind you, and in the mirror’s reflection, you see Nari stepping in. Her eyes meet yours briefly before she heads to the sink, washing her hands with the same frustration you’re feeling.

“You okay?” she asks, glancing at you through the mirror.

You let out a dry laugh. “I was gonna ask you that first.”

Nari snorts, shaking her hands off before grabbing a tissue. “Yeah, well. I figured you might need to hear it first.” She tosses the towel in the bin and leans against the counter, taking out her lipgloss and applying some. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“Trust me, i wish i knew.” You groan, rubbing your temples.

Nari raises an eyebrow. “So, what? You two got some unfinished business or something? Cause it kinda looks like it.”

You shoot her a look. “No. Definitely not.”

She hums, unconvinced. “I dunno… that was a lot of tension back there. Thought you were about to start throwing hands or—”

“Nari.”

“Okay, okay.” Shes grinning, nudging your arm. “But really, are you okay? You looked ready to bite his head off.”

You sigh, leaning back against the counter next to her. “I just… I don’t like this attention. The stares. The way people assume things just because he walks in here.”

Nari nods, her expression softening. “Yeah. I feel you, especially those girls earlier, that already annoyed me, i couldn’t imagine being you right now.”

“Exactly.” You run a hand through your hair.

“And now, one of his managers is all over him about laying low, and I’m caught in the middle of it.”

Nari makes a disgusted noise. “Ugh. I hate that. Like, what are you supposed to do? Ban him from the restaurant?”

“Right?”

There’s a brief silence before Nari shifts, giving you a sly side-eye. “But… if we ignore the part where this is a disaster… he is kinda hot, right?”

You groan, shoving her shoulder. “Nari.”

She laughs, raising her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying! If this was some corny romance film, you guys would so be two scenes away from a heated argument turning into—”

“Nope. Not happening.” You shake your head firmly, pushing off the counter.

“Mm-hmm.” Nari sing songs, but doesn’t push further. “Well, whatever’s going on, you’ll figure it out.” She gives your arm a light squeeze before heading for the door. “I’ll cover if you need a few more minutes.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, Nari.”

She winks. “Anytime, Mrs Celebrity.”

You groan again as the door swings shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When that the calmness of the bathroom suddenly isnt so relaxing anymore, you make your way out, deciding that if you stay any longer, it may look like your actually hiding from him.

Stepping back out onto the floor, the buzz of the restaurant greets you again. You scan the room, gaze flickering toward Jungkook’s table. He’s still there, picking at his food and watching something on his phone but his manager is gone. For a second, you think he left completely—until you spot him at the bar, sitting stiffly, drumming his fingers against the counter like he’s waiting for something.

Or someone.

You sigh, steeling yourself, before walking over. “Can I get you anything?” you ask, keeping your tone neutral.

The manager barely glances at you before exhaling sharply through his nose, looking back to the side and it irks you. Pisses you off. “What you can do is tell me whats going on here. I’ve seen the posts, do you know who he is? Im sure you do, and you know the consequences of these things,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“Frankly, I dont care what you kids are doing, but you and him should not be doing this so confidently out in the open.” He scoffs under his breath, fixing his watch around on his wrist absentmindedly on the counter. “But whatever. You don’t seem like the type to listen.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

His gaze flicks to you properly now, sharp and assessing. “I’m saying,” he continues, lowering his voice, “I understand that you have your own life to live, but Jungkook isn’t just anyone. He’s got an entire career, a reputation, and people looking for any excuse to pick him apart. So, unless you want to become the next big scandal, I’d suggest you be a little more careful.”

You cross your arms. “First of all, I’m just doing my job and theres nothing going on between us,” Irritation is building up, you couldn’t be famous. If this is the tiny amount of control you’d have over yourself? You seriously wonder how celebrities can deal with it. “Secondly, Jungkook’s also a grown man, and you cant sit here and babysit him.”

He huffs a dry laugh. “Trust me, I know.” His fingers tap against the glass again, thoughtful. “That’s the problem.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head, letting out another sigh before pushing back from the bar. “It means that he always gets what he wants,” he says, standing up. “That’s all.”

You stand there for a moment, still processing, before glancing over at Jungkook.

His manager is leaving when you turn back, why the fuck is everyone leaving you riddles to solve?!

—

Its a few minutes later when Jungkook’s at the bar, interrupting your zone out sesh, annoyingly enough, he has that same smirk on his face, and what looks to be the bill in his hand.

“Hey,” he interrupts smoothly, stepping between you and your thoughts, “I have to leave a little earlier tonight.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes and making sure what you next say comes off as a joke, “And why would I care?”

Jungkook hesitates just a little, then tilts his head slightly, flashing a quick, teasing smile. “Hm, not sure, you do seem kind of invested.”

You roll your eyes, biting down the urge to smile just to be difficult. “Yeah, in my paycheck. Which I better still have after all this.”

His lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh. “Good to know where we stand.”

“You’re a customer, and I work here. That’s where we stand.” You remind him. And you don’t know who you’re trying to convince when you tell him.

“Mm.” He hums, expression faltering the slightest, but you dont miss it. He’s resting his elbows on the bar. “But I don’t see you talking to your other customers like this.”

You scoff, reaching for a glass just to have something to do. “That’s because they’re not you.”

His grin deepens. “Exactly.”

His manager’s coming back through the door, looking out of breath, seemingly in a rush and exhales sharply, clearly fed up. “Jungkook, we need to go. Look’s like someones seen you,”

You look outside, its not a crowd yet, but theres the same two girls standing outside, you make sure to put your head down, not making it too suspicious that you’re hiding but you seem to cover your face successfully behind the bar glasses and you are praying to the Gods that your face isn’t going to be plastered all over your timeline tonight.

Jungkook doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching you, like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

You meet his gaze, feeling that tension again—annoying, frustrating, but undeniably there.

After a long beat, you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be laying low?”

Jungkook smirks. “I’m working on it.”

The manager mutters something under his breath and finally leaves the restaurant. Jungkook takes his time following, sliding a tip across the bar before turning toward the door.

And like last time, you wait until he’s gone before checking.

Scribbled next to his unnecessarily large tip, in his barely legible handwriting, is a number, and the same emoji he has tatted into his middle finger drawn terribly next to it.

You freeze.

Jungkook left you his number.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ii. do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

— the one where you and him end up in the same room at the same time.

warnings: kind reminder that the pictures are just used for entertainment and don’t describe what the main character is supposed to look like also, there are some f1 inaccuracies but this is fiction so please ignore them thank you❤️ 2k words.

masterlist ✢ next

Liked by scuderiaferrari, vicpresley, tchalamet and others.

View comments

softyn it’s so good to see you having fun!!

myaid4nfeels so you’re already on the hunt huh

poppyseeds mother!! suddenly I love fast cars vroom vroom

greenleafss @/priscibby you were right she def has another man

frenziekenzie okay cool but I need you to talk about Aidan I’m a child of divorce.

Baku, Azerbaijan, April 29th.

HERE, here is where you end up when you let your agent say yes to every commercial offer you get no matter how random it is. And one day late, to top things off. Many people are angry at you, and you’re getting an earful as soon as the cameras shut down, but for now all you can do is laugh at terrible jokes, like the lady that you are, pretend to sip the frankly horrendous energy drink your manager keeps handing you, and appear very sorry about your previous absence.

You’re not even supposed to be here, you had no idea signing the stupid contract with Red Elix forced you to come to every sponsor event that they had. Having become the most recent sponsor for Ferrari’s F1 team, the men in charge couldn’t wait to show you off, their most important ambassador. Or their shiniest toy, it's all semantics.

"Come on, the shootout is about to start!" the old man whose name you have already forgotten holds your hand, leading you away from the refreshments table where you're looking something drinkable, preferably with alcohol, although it wouldn't help your jetlag.

You spent the eighteen hours of your flight on a F1 binge, because you weren't about to make a fool of yourself by showing up to a Grand Prix having zero idea of whatever was going on other than the cars going really, really fast. Some things are still mildly confusing, like the point distribution and why on Earth there is a sprint race and then a 'real' race the next day. But you're proud of your ability to retain information, you're an actress after all, there are a hundred scripts loaded into your brain.

"We root for the red cars, sweetheart," the man is still holding your hand and it's starting to feel gross, it's papery and sweaty at the same time. It's like he's talking to a child, ennunciating slowly and clearly, and then pointing at the screen where they take turns to focus on drivers sixteen and fifty-five.

Unsurprisingly, you'd figured as much, you're in the Ferrari Suite, everything is fucking red. A wave of annoyance runs through you, but you're used to men being patronizing, so you just smile and take the chance to slip your hand out of his grip, covering your face coyly. "I'll keep an eye on them!"

He turns around after laughing at your 'cuteness' or stupidity, really. Men love laughing at women, especially those whom they deem to be dumb.

"Could you please, please, get me some water? Not Elix, not anything else, water." you whisper to your manager just as he's made himself comfortable to watch the Sprint Shootout. He sends a resented look your way but still gets up from his chair to get you a closed bottle of water. Walter is being forced to be here as much as you are, at least he doesn’t have a contract that keeps him tied to Elix for every race.

The man from before is talking to you again and you try your best not to shut down and tune him out. He's explaining the rules of the Shootout but you couldn't care less about anything that leaves his mouth, also the cars are already coming out of their respective garage and there's so much noise it doesn't even matter how much he adjusts the volume of his voice.

Charles and Carlos, you have learned their names after an hour of having their enlarged picture stare at you from the main wall of the Suite. Charles ended up in first place and he's starting P1 later and tomorrow. Nice. Carlos is struggling a little, apparently, but seeing how fast these silly cars go and how tight the curves are, you can't blame him.

As soon as the Shootout is over, there is chaos again. You are dragged here, there and back, forced to smile for pictures with strangers who have the audacity to squeeze your waist and whisper in your ear, well, that's definitely worse than having to drink the Red Elix.

There is another rush as both drivers come back for a debrief and to get some rest before the Sprint, they're a blur surrounded by people in red uniforms blabbering instructions, and the shouts of 'good job!' and 'i love you!' that have followed them from the paddock.

"Mr. Schafer…” a boney boy with glasses leans down to talk to the guy that has branded you as his for the evening.

Schafer gives him a dirty look, annoyed by the interruption of his incredibly boring story about how he is a self-made multimillionaire. "What?" he barks.

"They- they said not now," the boy whispers shyly, no, not shyly, scared. "They said the drivers need to focus, but maybe later after the Sprint..."

A can of Elix flies in the air and you look in poorly disguised repugnance at the way it puddles close to your Air Force sneakers. The boy has taken a step back, now visibly shaking and your disgust is redirected to the man that just yelled at him and is throwing a temper tantrum.

"Not right now?!" he continues, face turning purple. "What if I had said 'not right now' when they asked me to give them MY money, huh?!"

"T-they said—"

"I don't care what they said! It's your job to get the pictures of them with the Elix! You're useless!"

Other people are staring at you, including most of the Ferrari Hospitality Team, and it makes you feel embarassed that they have most likely pegged you as similar to Schafer from how inseparable you are.

"Why don't we calm down a bit?" you soothe, forcing yourself to run your hand down his arm and back up. "You know how these pilots are, divas at best."

You don't know either of the guys who have disappeared inside the Suite, and by the looks the Hospitality Team gives you once again, you're certain you are completely mistaken. But you don't care, because the media boy is giving you a grateful look, and although he's still visibly fuming, the money guy has stopped yelling.

"You're right sweetheart," Schafer says patting your hand and taking it back to his arm. "Later, then." he warns the media boy, who takes that as his sign to run away.

────────────

Ferrari is full of hope and celebrations when the Sprint ends, you're once again paraded around but at least it's way more fun this time. You get to be near the podium and witness first-hand whatever rituals they play out. The fun is short-lived though, when you are warned by your manager that Mr. Schafer wants to take you out to dinner tonight, you don't have or want to know more, you know what he wants to achieve.

You walk back to the Suite with your manager, trying your best to avoid Mr. Schafer, who is frantically looking for you. He's missing his arm-candy badly.

Your jetlag has worsened, and you have a terrible headache, plus however much Elix you've drank despite taking the smallest sips possible, is making you nauseous.

You need five minutes to yourself. It's all you ask for. You haven't even been able to get a break in the fucking bathroom. Your manager is constantly yelling, already getting his own frustration out on you for whatever shit the Elix team gave him after you missed the first day of the Grand Prix.

In the midst of the chaos, you slip away. Eager to find a place to breathe and enjoy your own company. Or dissociate, again, semantics.

You find yourself in front of two doors with the numbers sixteen and fifty-five identifying whom they each belong to. They are empty, and you know it because both drivers are still in their debriefing/celebration/whatever else they could be doing that once again, won't allow them to pose for the Elix post-race photos.

You are at a crossroads, you are well aware this are private rooms for a reason, but you also know there isn't anywhere more deserted than these rooms.

Sixteen or fifty-five? Who is least likely to freak out if by any miscalculation on your part they found you here? Well, one of them ended the day on a happier note than the other, so...

You open the door marked with the number sixteen and sigh in relief. Five minutes and that's it. Then you can go back and play dumb to Schafer and beg for you manager to finally take you to the hotel.

There is a miscalculation on your part, and five minutes later, just as you're about to get up and leave (after stealing one bottle of water and a granola bar from Charles' stash) the door opens again, revealing the disheveled driver, holding a small plaque with a number two in one hand and a Pirelli cap in the other. He is far more handsome up close, there isn't a screen or photograph that does him justice, and you've seen plenty of both during the day.

"You are not supposed to be here," is the first thing he says, frowning.

"I know," you feign nonchalance as best you can, although you are embarrassed. "I was leaving."

Charles still wears that confused expression on his face, and it makes you glad it hasn't changed to anger. "What were you doing here?"

"Stealing your refreshments," which is not a lie, as you're still holding both things in one hand, not without struggle.

He's not freaking out, which comes across as strange. How many times has he come to his private room to find a random girl waiting for him?

"Should have taken the Elix," he mutters, throwing the Pirelli cap in the empty part of the couch you had been occupying minutes before. "That thing is disgusting."

You can't help but chortle a laugh. "Glad you think so,"

Awkward silence finally falls in the room, and you know that's the signal for you to exit. You're still invading his privacy and while you're glad he really didn't seem to mind, you don't know how much longer he will be so patient.

"Don't tell anyone you were here, okay?" he calls after you, "Someone might get fired."

You nod but he doesn't see you, already minding his own business in his little private bubble. You're jealous to leave him in a space all to himself.

────────────

It takes an hour to get both drivers and you in the same room for the pictures Elix is dying to get. This is far from ridiculous, but you have a contract and so does Ferrari, so you don't have much of a choice.

"Are you feeling better?" Charles asks, and you think he's talking to his team mate until he clears his throat right in front of you. He's holding the Red Elix, just like the one in his private room.

"Who? Me?" you ask stupidly, and then you take a sip of the Gold Elix in your hand, it's so much worse than the Red.

"Yes, you."

"I'm okay, why?" you're suddenly defensive, this is the second time this guy sees you and he's acting all weird.

"Good," he says and also drinks from his Elix, failing to hide his distaste with a purse from his lips. "This thing is really gross," he whispers, and this time his teammate does join the conversation only by laughing.

Both must be exhausted and yet they're trying to put on a good show for the sponsors.

"I'm sorry about intruding in your room," you lower your voice, squeezing your drink.

Charles shrugs lightly, and drinks again, this time without grimacing. "Sometimes I need five minutes too."

You smile, and it's the first sincere smile you've shown all day.

"My mum likes your movies," he says casually, as someone yells that you need 'just one more picture, please!'

You dread the part where he says something along the lines of "Supercut is the best!" but instead, after he stops the automatic motion of taking the red can to his lips, he adds: "I like Loneliness, it's so depressing."

And you throw your head back to laugh.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! i would appreciate to know your thoughts too! ♡❞

[spongeofaces]

Matchup exchange for @thecurrator 1/3

---

First of the three matchups! I'm sorry for taking so long with these 🙇‍♀️

Really loved the one you made by the way, super cute.

Hope it lives up to your expectations!

Do tell me if I made any errors, I'll fix it up right away.

---

Romantic

I match thecurrator with...

🐉 Malleus Draconia 🐉

-:-:-:-

Malleus may be an absolute sweetheart of a partner, but he is also new to this kind of relationship. He does try his best, however he may not always know what is expected of him; what's too much or too little. Just be patient with him, okay? He'd wait an eternity for you, after all.

Typically, Malleus talks to others in a respectful yet somewhat cold tone, but fortunately he's comfortable enough around you to drop the polite walls he's built up. At times, he may find himself making small jokes or teasing comments that he usually wouldn't make with anyone else. Slowly yet surely, he'll become more and more willing to act childish if he wishes to, not feeling the same shame he used to when he acted in such a way. You've helped him become a lot more open with his words and actions, and he appreciates that.

As someone who has had personal experience with feeling isolated for a long time, Malleus has made it his personal mission to make sure that as long as the two of you are together, you'll never feel lonely. He needs you to know that no matter the situation, no matter the time, he is willing to be by your side. There's no need to hesitant or worry if you want to ask Malleus to spend time with you, I assure you; he'd drop anything if it meant he could be with you instead.

Malleus can take on any role in a conversation, switching between speaking and listening depending on the current mood. Whenever you speak, he is sure to pay his utmost attention, treasuring the words that leave your lips, storing away any and all information you give him in his head. You may make a one-off comment about a show you sort of like, and a day or two later he'll be bringing it up, having watched some of it to learn more about your tastes. Whether you feel like fast-paced banter, meaningful conversation, sudden rants or complete silence, Malleus is always happy to oblige.

This guy does not hold back on the compliments, always finding some sort of excuse to praise you. No matter how mudane a task you complete is he'll have something positive to say about you. Just by the look of utter adoration in his eyes, you can tell that it isn't empty flattery; he means every word of it. At this point, you find that he's truly enamoured with even your smallest actions and behaviours.

Definitely a gift giver. He'll experiment with different types of gifts, trying to get a read on which kind of trinket you treasure most. At the start, he'll stick to the default gifts, flowers, jewellery, clothes, plushies. The only thing that isn't stereotypical about the gifts he gives, is the amount. You'll be recieving something every other day, some things small, some things large. His gifts will become more personalized as he learns more about you.

He adores spending time participating in your interests with you. He'll organize movie nights or days to binge entire shows, just so he can listen as you discuss the themes and delve into the characters.

He is not going to help with your habit of getting lost in new places, if I'm honest. Pretty sure he'll just play dumb and let you lead you both off-track, feigning ignorance when you ask if he has any clue which way to go. Oh, but he doesn't have any malicious intent, he just finds the act of going on a simple, spontaneous walk with you pleasant.

He'd go absolutely anywhere if only you'd invite him. If he's the one choosing a date location, it would probably be somewhere out in nature, with a pretty view or scenery. He may start getting sappy and compare you to a flower or something, how you react to that is up to you.

Make him a music playlist, and it will be the only thing he listens to for practically the entire month. He might seek you out to talk to you about how he interprets certain lyrics and songs. He's grateful you took time out of your day to make something so thoughtful for him.

You two share the 'unapproachable' vibe. You because of the rbf, him because of his intimidating presence. But hey, at least you two know that the other isn't as scary as they look.

If you ever space out, he'll just sit in silence and watch you affectionately, wondering what could possibly be going through your mind at that moment. When class is about to start, he may poke your cheek to snap you out of the small daze.

Other options: Silver and Jade.

[astralleywright]

You're so right about people who never really engaged with Imogen as a character.

I remember seeing posts asking why Imogen didn't leave Gelvaan earlier, and would suggest it was because of some sort of 'learned helplessness'?

She's a telepath! Her powers would follow her wherever she went! Sure, Gelvaan was awful to her, but she doesn't have much better alternatives. She could either a) leave her only family member to live the same life in another town or city (physically painful, and only better if they don't discover her powers), or b) totally isolate herself from everyone, and provide for herself...somehow. She was already very alone before meeting Laudna and was pretty deeply unhappy about it.

Idk. I'm not even particularly good at themes and deep reading but this was just surface level understanding of her powers, and people weren't even willing to do that.

the "learned helplessness" thing really kind of is the ideal example for the very dumb way the fandom uses autonomy, discursively, as kind of an all or nothing deal. because learned helpfulness is a thing, and i would fully believe it's something Imogen experienced in her time in Gelvaan. but as you pointed out, it's usage here puts the blame squarely on her, while ignoring the societal and environmental factors that made life in Gelvaan difficult and would have likely made it difficult anywhere else.

this is an extension of an incredibly punitive, carceral culture and logic in fandom, something that's changed face over time but never really left. Laudna didn't try to take Ishta because Delilah preyed on her grief and trauma and anger to stroke her jealousy and arcane addiction and feelings of powerlessness and worthlessness and fear that she'll be abandoned if she can't be useful, no. she did it because she's a bad person. she did it because she needs to make everything about herself and loves playing the victim and she's greedy and too dangerous and totally the one in the queer housing group who won't do the dishes because she has "dish-related trauma", am i right guys. she did it because it doesn't matter why Laudna did it, she needs to be called out and held accountable, and anyone who tries to explain her actions or sympathize with her or defend her against the most cruel and untrue comments is coddling her and erasing her agency and thinks she was completely in the right. and they're probably a misogynist. or even worse, a misandrist.

it's also an extension of fan resistance to the existence of oppressed-oppressor relationships or just general power dynamics in Exandria wherein parties they sympathize with or project onto act as the oppressor, ranging from the Gods to the people of Gelvaan. these parties, in turn, will have their agency obfuscated while the harmed is laid bare. the most obvious, and infuriating, examples of this in CR fandom are the suggestions that Opal and Dorian are responsible for their victimization by the Spider Queen, because Opal chose to put on the crown and Dorian was, uh, there with his brother? i've repeatedly seen those things presented as incidents that can't be blamed on the gods, really, because Opal and Dorian had any modicum of free will. as if the Spider Queen accidentally stumbled into creating an evil corruption crown or killing Cyrus. she can't help it, she's just being Lolth!

which takes us back to Gelvaan, and the idea that Imogen was suffering from some "learned helplessness" that was a purely internal failure and not the result of any external conditions. i joked on that other post abt Liliana being the final exam in a class many people had been failing from the start, and like, yeah, being able to understand "Imogen suffered in Gelvaan for reasons that were not solely or mostly her fault and would have been the same or similar elsewhere" feels like one of those early pop quizzes. and at this point, it's like, idk. sorry that you can't enjoy the beautiful, bittersweet mother daughter reunion bc you were too concerned with ideas of personal responsibility 100 episodes ago to properly empathize with Imogen. skill issue tbh

[multishipperofgaydeadwizards]

Thinking about James/Remus and seriously questioning why it's not a thing cause

1) the whole sun/moon lore I was talking about earlier

2) their shipname would be somn like "moonchaser" or "sunreader" or somn

3) it fits right into the running gag that James has a thing for people being mean to him

4) imagine all the possible angst mhmm mhmm Remus pining over James, finding out he likes his best friend, finding out she likes him back, losing him again and again ooooohhhhh just

5) but they're also perfect cause all Remus ever needs is to be loved and all James knows is to love someone else

6) ok but leave the angst, focus on the fluff. The possibilities omg friends to lovers just this time (minus all the usual angst that comes in wolfstar) and they're both just dumb oblivious idiots in love and it's so cute

7) thinking about all of this now I think what you said is right, people don't ship Remus with anyone other than Sirius but I think that's cause Sirius actually doesn't have many ships left then? Cause think about it like this: Sunreader, Bartylus, Marylily, Evan and Emmeline, Panda and Xeno, where does that leave Sirius? Sure Pete is there but...

8) ooooh ok going down this pipeline, for your consideration: Peter and Sirius. Omg it would make the "Sirius put in trial instead of Peter" thing sooooo much more ansgty ohhoo my brain is reeling rn

9) ok focusing back on moonchaser. They would make such a cute couple honestly. James would read all the books Remus reads and leaves lil doodles for him to find later. He would go to all the quidditch practices he can to support his bf. And he would right poetry and stuff about how hot James is.

10) ohhh They would share glasses omggg poor Remus grows up thinking everyone has shit vision then one day he wears James's as a joke and voila the world in HD

I'm so ngl, your influence on my brain has become on the best influences it has ever had cause omg all this potential all this angst and fluff I love this new me mhmm mhmm

hsirbdij omggggg I love this sm!!! thank you for sharing your brain with me.

sunreader sounds so gorgeous. I'm going insane. I love love LOVE the name!

1) yeah are literally the sun and the moon! they are perfect!

3) lmao. so true. I love the idea of remus being super sarcastic towards james and james swoons at every mean comment and tries very hard not to (he fails miserably)

4) urghhhhh not the unrequited feelings while having to be a supportive bestie trope (my beloved). I can imagine how mad it drives remus to watch them like each other, but being to scared to admit it. imagine the heartbreak when remus sees harry alias the combination of his parents

5) yesss. remus needs someone to love him even through all of his flaws, someone who isn't his parents and james who is literally the embodiment of love

6) "everyone can see it, but them" trope fr. it's them idfk

7) you make a fair point, but there are sooooooo many characters living in the marauders characters that no one ever uses. you could ship sirius with so many characters that no one ever talks abt (I'm currently working on a post with all the characters that I could find so that they're all in one place)

8) peter and sirius my loves <3 no one talks about them (me included whoops-). they have such a big angst potential that people just seem to be ignoring (once again bc most people refuse to leave the wolfstar bubble and just refuse to ship peter with anyone in general)

9) they would be the definition of tooth rotting fluff. they would make everyone sick with how sweet they are. couple goals fr

10) remus is me fr. the day I got my glasses was eye-opening lmao

glad to see that I have this kind of effect on people. I said it to you before but I'll say it again: welcome to the way more funnier side of being a multishipper hehehehe

also: I think I'm in love with you. marry pls, I'm begging 🙏🏻🙏🏻����🏻 (/j... unless)

[pensat-i-fet]

An unbearable fan (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**So I was requested this the other day and it's kind of funny huh? Me writing from the POV of a Madrid fan. Just in case you didn't know it was fiction, this is the definitive proof 😅 anyways, it’s just banter and a bit of angst and fluff for all of you to hopefully enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 1238

Masterlist

Wattpad

There were downsides to any relationship and that included a relationship with a football player. All the travelling, all the emotions that went up and down depending on the result of that specific day…it could be a lot. But when the player didn't play for the team you loved with all your heart, things could get a bit messier.

Luckily for you, Rúben played in England. Your team played in the Spanish League. So the chances of him playing against Madrid were so small…but there still was a chance.

And so when Madrid beat Chelsea and City beat Bayern, it was time for a second semifinal in a row between your team and your boyfriend's. And you hated it.

For the first leg, the teams played at the Bernabéu. Being back there was special for you. And it helped you daydream about Rúben playing there in the future…but for the home team. A girl can dream.

The match ended in a draw and Rúben should have been given MOTM because he drove your attacking players insane. They don't call him "the wall" for nothing.

"Just 1-0 at home, and we're in the final".

"Yeah, good luck with that", you said, rolling your eyes. "My boys were just warming up yesterday. They saved all the magic for the Etihad".

"You lot are really into saving the magic for the last minute. It gets annoying, you know?"

"Not to us!", you shrugged.

The banter continued during the next week but what changed was the nerves you felt. Rúben being in the final was great but you couldn't just root against your team. They had already been in a similar position the previous season and it broke your heart. But also, you were happy he lost and that made you feel like a horrible person. You tried not to show it in front of him but he wasn't dumb.

"Are you wearing that?", he asked, pointing at your outfit.

"Yes. What's wrong with it?"

"You always wear my shirt to matches. But I guess you're just making it clear again you want me to lose".

"It's not that but, it's my team…imagine Madrid and Benfica played each other! You'd want Benfica to win and I wouldn't blame you".

"You don't play for any of the teams. That makes the difference. I get you want them to always win but you should make an exception when they play against me!"

"I'd be happy if you win…".

"I doubt it".

You didn't want to say more because it'd only make things harder to fix later. But driving in silence was going to make you go insane.

"Good luck".

"It almost sounded like you meant it".

"Rúben, I do mean it".

"You mean you want me to do well while my team is destroyed. But it's a team sport. What I do means nothing".

"Tell that to Benzema".

He ignored your comment and left to join the rest of the team without saying goodbye.

Why couldn't they draw another team instead of yours???

Rúben wasn't completely wrong. Whatever happened, you wanted him to be the best player on the pitch. It could be someone else who messed up when your team scored.

And he was one of the best…but then again, so was Bernardo who scored a brace. And Julián only needed a few minutes on the pitch to seal their pass to the final. 4-0, how did that happen?

Apart from Rúben doing well, you wanted just a simple 0-1. No team needed to be humiliated this time. But yours was and it was against one of your biggest enemies. Pep.

When you saw Rúben waiting for you by the car, you noticed his smile and that pissed you off. So you couldn't want your team to win but he could laugh after humiliating you? Bit unfair, that.

"You feeling ok after that?"

Your response was to look inside his trousers' pockets, which confused him. "Did you take Karim out already? Nice, he needs the fresh air".

"You're joking?"

"It's that or telling you to go to hell. I'm trying to be diplomatic".

The day after the match, you were off work so sleeping in sounded like the best way to start your day. By the time you woke up, Rúben was long gone and so you made it to the kitchen expecting it to be empty.

And there was no Rúben there but it looks like he had time to buy, and print, all the newspaper articles about the match before leaving to train. He even checked the Barcelona press to find the most insulting headlines.

But two could play that game.

"Did you read the news today?", he asked when he got back home.

"I've never been a newspaper person. I prefer to get my news from Twitter".

"From Madrid fan accounts? I bet they are real objective".

"Are you a comedian now?"

"Come on…", he said, hugging you. "Forgive me for annihilating your team".

"Should we talk about last season, Dias? Stop it!"

"Such a sore loser", he laughed.

"Well, I'm not used to losing unlike others".

                                      **

The weeks that passed between the semifinals and the final had helped you two forget your little fight. But you were still petty and had a surprise saved for Rúben.

"It's so tiring to pack for just a couple of days. I've checked the weather so many times to bring the right clothes".

"You can always use that as an excuse to go shopping there".

"You're right. But…can you help me? I don't know if this outfit is right for the match?"

When he got there, his smile disappeared.

"I can't stand you".

"Is it good or not?"

"When did you buy an Inter shirt?"

"When I saw the newspapers you left for me".

"It was a joke", he said, annoyed.

"This is a joke too".

"A joke is supposed to be funny".

"Really, Rúben? So you thought I would laugh at what you did to me?"

And it was back to square one. But at least this time you travelled separately. And, even if he pissed you off so much since he beat Madrid, you still wore his shirt to the match. You didn't even wear a Madrid one to the semis and he really thought you'd wear an Inter one now? Silly boy.

But all the jokes and digs meant nothing when you saw him lifting the trophy. Your eyes watered immediately and you couldn't wait to hug him.

"You…you won", you said, sobbing and hiding your face in his neck.

"Yeah, sorry about that".

You both laughed and he held you tighter while you cried.

"I'm really proud of you, you know?"

"Even if I beat your team to win the trophies?"

"Yeah", you said, looking up at him. "Even then. Seeing you after you won just…I didn't expect it to mean so much".

"It means a lot to me that it means a lot to you".

You hugged in the middle of the pitch, forgetting about everyone else.

"Besides, you still have a long way to go to catch us so…we like doing charity work and letting others win every once in a while".

Rúben laughed and shook his head. "You are the most unbearable fanbase in the world, you know?"

"I know. But at least you managed to get one of us to be happy you won today".

[elfqueen006]

What Do You Know?

Elias Goldstein x fem!Reader

CW: academic rivals, bullying, school pressure, drama, made with black reader in mind though no features are explicitly stated.

A/N: hey, sorry this took so long guys. I've been sitting on this for a while now with only a vague idea of how I wanted it to end so mind the sort of rushed ending. I still admire y'all for waiting this long. Much love~

---

"Y/N changed her hair again..!"

The comment made Elias flinch. As his Buddy, a lot of his classes were now shared with you, but he could never get used to the way others talked about you when you walked in the room. Even though you were a provisional student, you managed to make quite a ruckus in the school with your presence...and in his life.

Upon first glance you were very pretty. You were up to date with the newest trends and gossip, very sociable, and changed your hair and looks almost everyday. (Where did you come from again? He was sure you told him that you lived in a small village before this -- how could you even afford all that stuff?!)

Despite all of this though, you were terrible at magic! Your specialty was working with animals and performing healing spells, but he personally didn't think you spared any skill you had on your actual studies.

Thus, you were branded an "empty headed diva wizardess" following him around - another addition to the gossip that he hated so much!

You sashayed in the room, greeting your peers with a smile. Half the boys sighed, the girls groaned. It was something you came to expect with being beautiful and well kept - it wasn't for everyone.

Passing by your Buddy, you gave him a smile that was more polite and "humble". "Good morning, Elias." you said.

"...Hello." he said with a quiet voice. You grimaced, continuing on to your seat next to Yukiya, who stared at you with a blank expression.

"Good morning, Yukiya!" 

He shifted a bit in his seat and looked down at his desk, "Hello...Y/N."

You gasped, "You remembered!" 

He only mustered a bit of a smile. This was kind of a running joke between you too, seeing if he had remembered your name or not. Often he would pretend not to, simply referring to you as "that girl" or "wizardess". And you'd act surprised, because you caught on for a while that he knew your name at the very least.

You then looked down to the wolf beside him, "Hello, Mister Wolf!"

It simply stared at you before turning away. Ignored...again. You sighed and went to take out your things before class started.

"Hey!"

You looked up to see three girls standing before you. Despite their different hairstyles, they looked pretty similar, indicating they were related. Perhaps sisters. You'd see them in the corner of your eye when walking the hall a few times, and often they were glaring at you like now.

"Yes?" you asked.

"We thought we told you to stay away from Elias!" The tallest said.

"Sorry, do we know each other?" 

They each furrowed their brows, "You know us! Don't play dumb!"

You shook your head, "Never seen you before in my life."

"We are the Mason sisters! We've introduced ourselves to you before!" One declared.

"Rose!"

"Lily!"

"And Violet!"

"Right." You already forgot who was who. 

"Listen! Be amazed and delighted because we put even flowers to shame!" Rose said. "We know that by some cruel twist of fate Elias is forced to be your Buddy, so we don't see you leaving anytime soon. But we at least expect you to have some decorum when going in public with him."

Your brows raised as you remembered them. Declaring themselves the Elias Fan Club, they made a habit of regularly harassing you since you came to Gedonelune for being his Buddy. 

"What are you talking about?"

Lily pointed at you, her finger uncomfortably close to your face. "That! All that makeup! And the garish way you do your hair - it never stays the same!"

You narrowed your eyes, "So?"

"It's so obvious you're trying to get attention from the other boys - because Elias is way too classy to fall for your tricks!" Violet said, sticking her chin out with a superior look cast down towards you.

You were burning from the neck up; not because they had the audacity to come up and talk shit to you for a guy who didn't even like them! But because they were assuming all of your fashion and self care...was for Elias!

You looked around the room, everyone was looking at the scene, but made no move to try and defend you - especially Elias, who deliberately looked inside a book from his previous classes. 

Of course he wouldn't help you... not after last time. When these girls were all in your face before, you didn't get any help from him, but you sure got an earful when he heard you say he was cold, mean, and stubborn. But it's not like it was untrue. He never tried to make an effort with you, even when you obviously tried with him. 

That wasn't gonna happen anymore. If he expected you not to embarrass him, he better have a higher standard after this.

You looked up to see the Mason sisters smirking at you, seeming to pick up on your discouragement from the class. Instead of giving them a well deserved triple slap, you stood up, took a deep breath and smiled. This seemed to anger them, but as Rose came forward to scold you more, you stood up.

"You're absolutely right, Ria." you said.

"Rose!"

"I do want attention, because Elias is too damn prissy to ever help with anything. All the other boys here though, are so nice." your made an intentional purr at the end of your sentence.

The class murmured and gasped. The girls' faces all flushed in anger, making you smirk.

"How dare you?!" Lily piped up, "You clearly haven't learned your lesson from last time! Elias sees you for the snake you are!" you snickered at that, making their anger flare up even more, "And another thing! All that makeup just makes you look cheap! It's the only thing you've got going for you because you're not even worth your salt as a wizardess!"

"But that's more than I can say about you, right?" you countered.

The girls faltered, "Wha-"

"You assume I'm so cheap for wearing makeup, but without it Elias still isn't looking at either of you, right?" 

"You unbelievable…!!"

The bell then rang, signifying that class had begun. You put a hand to your ear and made an exaggerated gasp, "Oh! That's the bell! Better get to your seats."

Rose reached for you when you sat back down, "We're not finished!"

"Is there a problem here?" The cold, imposing voice of Conrad Schuyler called from the doorway. His tone was normal, but his presence chilled the whole class with his stoicism. 

Rose retracted her hand instantly, looking between you and the professor. "U-um, no sir!"

"Then I suggest you take your seat."

The Rose and her two sisters scrambled to their desks, heads low as to avoid Schuylers' scrutiny.

You watched them leave with a smug smile. The class around you stared in awe and disbelief. Save for three; Luca who was giggling his happy ass off; Yukiya was visibly stunned at your first show of aggression in his eyes; and finally Elias, who was burying half his face in his hands, while one side of it twisted in a scowl, glaring furiously at you.

You decided to ignore him.

—

Class was a bust, considering you flubbed your spell, yet again. The smug looks from the Mason sisters didn't fare you any better as they walked out. Elias didn't even look at you as he stormed out.

You were about to follow the rest of your classmates when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "L/N." You turned around to see Schuyler.

"Yes... sir?"

"The grades on the written tests and reviews have increased significantly on your part. Congratulations." he said. He even gave one (1) nod of approval. It made the tiniest bit of pride swell in your chest. 

"But," oop…There it was, "your magical ability is still lacking. I'd like to know if you're interested in tutoring."

"T-Tutoring..?"

"Yes. And I know you're a provisional student, but you have potential." he said. "You said you used to work with animals before, right? It's a hindrance that you've only practiced one field for so long. It feels like if you experienced a hands-on approach with more magic, then your chances of officially attending will improve."

"Yes...yes sir, I'd love that!" You said, your heartbeat picking up at the idea of finally improving on your magic, "Thank you, sir!"

He nodded, "Then I will run it by Principal Randolph. See you next class. 

"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!" you nodded excitedly before running out of the class.

You ran past Luca, who called after you, "I know Schuylers' a terror, but running away isn't gonna solve much."

You stopped running, "This isn't terror! I'm happy!" you said, "Schuyler just offered me tutoring in magic!”

Lucas’ brows raised in surprise as he gave an impressed nod. “Coming up in the world, aren't we?”

“Ha, for once!” You ran back and gave him a high five.

“What’s going on here?”

You both turned around at Elias' cold voice to see his equally cold expression. Not one to pass up drama, Luca gave you a sly smile that said “Should you tell him, or should I?” You sighed, choosing to oblige him.

“I’m going to start tutoring with Schuyler.” you said.

Elias narrowed his eyes at that, “You don’t know how anything here works at all, do you? Schuyler doesn’t tutor nor does he just take any request-”

“It wasn’t I who requested it, he came to me.” you said, jutting your chin out. Elias blinked and furrowed his brow. He looked down at the floor, seeming to be wracking his brain for something. In this moment of silence you hadn’t noticed most of the students in the hallway, including Luca, were staring at you both.

Finally, Elias sighed, his eyes closed once he presumably found some peace of mind, “Well you must’ve caught his eye then… honestly, at this point it's the best case scenario.” You raised a brow at his backhanded compliment – if it was even that, “If that really is the case, it’s better I tell you now that I managed to get us up to the sixtieth percentile in our grades. Better use this to your advantage now.”

Your ears once more became hot at his condescending tone, as well as the insistence he picked up your shared grades. You scoffed loud enough for him to hear. Whether it was intentional or not you didn’t know.

“Is something funny?” Elias asked.

“Yeah, it’s just I think you might've been misled.” you replied, running your hand through one of your bangs. You tilted your head with a face of faux concern,“You said that you had brought our grades up?”

“I believe I made myself clear.”

You snickered, “That’s cute, prince.” he blinked at the fact you used his nickname, making you grin wider.

At Elias’ side his fists clenched, “What are you trying to say?”

A larger crowd gathers. You sashay up to Elias with a newfound confidence. “Everytime I see you, you do nothing but mope and talk about how I’m holding you back. Maybe if you quit focusing on how I make you look and what I’m actually doing, we’d be in the sixtieth sooner. Hell, we might even be in eightieth. Or the freaking top of our class!”

His purple eyes had a rare blaze of fury as he squared up his shoulders and loomed over you, his face twisted in a scowl similar to before. “The reason we weren’t there sooner was because the first week you’re here all you can do is think about what style to put your hair in every period! Maybe quit schmoozing the crowd and use your head!”

Your own fury grew with the few cheers he got from some fangirls.

“It’s called making an impression and having a social life, Goldstein, ever hear of it?” you barked back, “Maybe if you got off your high horse and took the stick out your ass you wouldn’t be so pissy about school. You can’t have a school life with no life!”

“Not everything requires looks to get by! And if you think you’re going to do that in Gedonelune you might as well just leave!” Elias growled.

“I’m not going anywhere.” you snapped, “You’re stuck with me, just like I’m stuck with you… and I’m tired of trying to placate and justify myself to some spoiled brat! ”

With that you bumped past him, heading on down the other side of the hallway. The crowd had murmured restlessly as they looked on at your retreating form and the stunned prince you left in your wake.

—

A foul storm was brewing outside. Rain speckled your windows relentlessly and the wind blew harshly, making tree branches wave. In your dorm, you were being comforted by Amelia who hugged you as you sniffed and rubbed away your angry tears, “I just fucking hate him, Lia!”

The redhead winced at your choice of words. She never really liked you swearing. Honestly, even some with foul mouths themselves would say you had a certain way of provoking others not just by your words but the attitude you carried with them. You believed swearing had a time and place, but when you were upset or mad you just let it out.

“Sorry, I just… he’s so..!” You made a strangling motion with your hands as your face scrunched up.

Amelia nodded, “I know. There’s a reason they call him the ice prince…” she paused, “but are you sure you weren’t a bit harsh trying to provoke him with the grades and all?”

“It was true, Lia! I have been carrying us in our written exams. I’m way smarter than people give me credit for… than he gives me credit for! Does he think he’s the only one affected by the rumors?” you buried your face in your hands, “You know there are people that think I actually want to sleep with him or marry into his precious little family…”

Amelia grimaced, wrapping an arm around on one shoulder and resting her head on the other as well. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve that. And being pretty shouldn’t be a crime… especially when half the school vyes for his looks anyway.” there was an added giggle at the end of her sentence. You laughed a bit as well, looking up at your roommate with red eyes and tear stained cheeks that she thumbed away. “Seriously though, you have a chance to be a student in this place with or without Elias. Or else why would you have been chosen?”

You shrugged, “Dumb luck?”

Amelia shook her head, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Lightning struck harshly outside the boys dorm. Yukiya stood at the window, watching the rain hit the glass with a somber look. He wondered how you were doing. 

A whine came from the corner of the room. The wolf was curled up in a makeshift cot on the floor. It stared back at him with its golden eyes, before he sighed and closed the curtains, going to sit on his bed. 

On the other side of the room Elias sat at his desk, scribbling furiously in his notebook. His angry writing was the only other thing heard in the quiet room. Not that this was irregular, the two roommates were naturally quiet people. They didn't communicate much outside of class and joint assignments. But now one could not deny the thick tension within the room after today's events. Nobody spoke… but the silence was deafening.

There was a sharp smack of Elias’ pen on his desk, “What is it?” he said as he stood up and turned to Yukiya, who was startled at his sudden movement.

“What is…what?” said Yukiya.

“You want to say something. Ever since I got back to the dorms people have been giving me weird looks and muttering things about me.” the blonde paced their shared room, glaring at the floor and shaking his head. “It’s all because of that clumsy wizardess, I know it is!”

“You think she… made people talk about you? Like a spell?” Yukiya replied haltingly.

“What- no! They feel defensive over what I said and they don’t even know what I’m going through. I mean all she does is focus on her looks and kissing up to people!”

“...That’s not all she does.”

Elias stopped pacing and walked over to the side of his bed. Yukiya continued, “When she has a free moment I see her practicing her magic in a lone room with her homework.”

Elias raised a brow, “What room?”

“Any. But they’re usually close to whatever class she’s attending that day.” said Yukiya. “She’s getting better. But I think she feels too much pressure in front of an audience. And it’s not like you give her much confidence.” 

Elias blinked in surprise and his cheeks pinkened. “It’s not like I knew, either! How was I supposed to know she was actually focusing on her work if all she shows in public is how styled her hair is each day?” 

Suddenly he remembered one of his early impressions of you. A moment before class started, you were applying blush and gloss. “Don’t you think you should be preparing for class?”

“I am. Appearance is everything, Elias.”

“Nobody knows how smart you are based on looks.”

You were looking in the small mirror with lowered eyelids, carefully observing your face and makeup. “Or dumb. No matter how smart you are, most are likely to pick the best looking candidate before the smartest in the room. It’s not right but that’s how it works…”

Despite your words, they didn’t carry an arrogance like he imagined they would. You stated them like they were facts and had witnessed them firsthand. But after continuously messing up your spells in class, you had refrained from bringing makeup to class and began getting ready when you had a private moment in the hall or before you left your room. The more frequent your flubs the more he saw you dedicate your time in the beginning of class to cramming. You would give yourself a light review of whatever topics you covered in class the days before they started.

Your answers to the pop quizzes were almost always correct. But your magical prowess was significantly lacking, it made you both frustrated. But now he was surprised to think of the possibility that you had actually been trying the whole time.

“I know having a Buddy wasn’t what you wanted, but how do you think she feels? I’m not exactly taking sides but I think a bit of consideration is in order…” Yukiya said.

—

Early in the morning, Elias found himself taking a different course from his usual route to class.

Yukiya’s words affected him more than he cared to admit. He could not even find it in him to sleep as soundly as he did with you in his mind. At first it angered him, because he immediately recalled your snide remarks about him. And the insistence he was spoiled, especially when you pampered yourself everyday like some sort of princess. He wanted to say something back to you, something that would hurt – you hadn’t known anything about him!

But then again… maybe it was with him.

“That is going to be Elias’ buddy? She’s just some countryside witch!”

“I know, it’s totally unfair! It’s obvious she doesn’t even know basic spells.”

“All she has is looks. She’ll totally mess up Elias’ image!”

He hated the way people talked about him as if he were some kind of paragon. But the only upside was knowing there weren’t any people arrogant enough to try and schmooze him or put themselves on his level. He was sure if you had been a regular student attending instead of provisional, you would be the same. It wasn’t like you had a choice in dealing with him…

At the sound of talking, Elias stopped in his tracks. He looked around to see if there was anyone in the hall with him, and when he found nothing, he turned his attention to a room with the door left cracked open. There was a faint glow indicating someone had been using magic inside. 

Cautiously, he approached as the voices grew.

��Come on. You’re too focused on messing up.”

“I am not, I’m focused on getting it right!”

When reaching the doorway he peeked inside. You and Luca were sitting on opposite sides of a desk. He held his hands under yours as you manifested a ball of light. It was definitely unstable, but he was surprised to see you made something that didn’t explode.

The ball changed colors rapidly, going between purple, pink, green, and yellow. 

“Look, I don’t know how else to say this; but it’s okay if you mess up a little.” Luca said.

“B-but the colors-”

“Don’t worry about the colors. You made a ball of light.”

You huffed, “I don’t know, it’s more like a blob. It’s not even spherical…”

“Then you made a blob of light.” The greennette laughed. “Okay. Now… release.”

You exhaled as you let the light disappear from your hands. There was a visible sheen of sweat on your head, signifying your exhaustion with the exercise. Luca stood up and went to your side of the table to pat your back.

“Hey, that along with your brains, you should be able to make something just above your usual grade. Why… you might even pass!” He fake gasped.

Rolling your eyes, you shoved him half-heartedly. “Yeah, right. I just hope I don’t get any shit from the Ice Prince over this.”

When it was time for you to go to class you were met by the usual stares and chiding. The quiz you were preparing for passed like a breeze. Schuyler commended you on your focus, despite the minor flubs. You even got a word of congratulations from Elias before he left.

---

Taglist: @just-a-little-silly (thanks for holding out this long. Here it is)

[newtthetranswriter]

Please may I have a Fairy tail headcanon of Gray Fullbuster with a female S/O who has Edward Elric's abilities from Fullmetal alchemist. S/O joined Fairy tail when she was a young child not long after Gray did..S/Os unlimited abilities meant that she can basically create anything that she can put her mind too..she isn't nicknamed the metal mage for nothing. She isn't proud of what she had done back then..she earned those abilities to be a metal alchemist at a consequence of trying to revive her late mother..she was damn lucky that she didn't lose her body parts..she is a independent young woman in Fairy tail and a member of Team Natsu.

So, I've never done headcanons before, but I'll give it a go, hope you enjoy these. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but I did my best, if you enjoy please feel free to let me now and don't be afraid to send ion more requests. Anyway Enjoy and have a good day/night. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Alchemy isn't an exact science, things can go wrong, and that's what happened when you tried to bring back your mom.

Unlike past Alchemists who had tried to bring people back from the dead you were lucky, you saw the truths of the world but managed to hang on to all of your limbs.

With the knowledge of the universe giving you a major boost in your magic at such a young age, you needed to join a guild to help control and grow this power.

At the age of 8 you wondered into the guild hall of non-other than Fairy Tail, a legendary guild full of powerful mages.

You were welcomed with open arms by nearly everyone there except one kid who couldn't keep his clothes on, when you first meet Gray, he was cold to you, not to say you were really any better having just lost your mother for a second time.

As time passed you grew stronger and more confident in your abilities to manipulate the chemical structure of items and shift them into new things. You primarily specialized in turning things to metal to create more useful weapons.

Master Makarov saw your potential and by the age of 17 you had become an S class wizard known as the Metal Mage.

Along with growing your power the tension between you and gray only got worse, almost like him and Natsu's fighting but with a little more flirting

like I see you guys sitting at the guild hall ignoring each other until he pops off with something stupid about being better a making things with his magic and you just use your magic to make something to hit him with using the table and yell at him about covering his abs because in typical gray fashion he's probably in his boxers.

At first no one notices the more flirty comments until one of you calls the other handsome/beautiful directly making the other blush

Being as stubborn as you are you try to deny it for the longest time and so does he

Now if we add on the being a part of team Natsu, it gets more hectic

I'm talking Happy teasing you, Natsu trying to tease you but ultimately ending up fighting Gray for something he says, Wendy is just confused, Lucy and Erza think its kind of cute that the two stubborn mages wont admit their feelings, and then there is Carla who just thinks everyone involved is dumb

And when you guys finally get together i don't think a lot would change

like yeah you guys don't fight as much or the comments aren't as pointed but there is still playful bickering between the two of you

I just feel that Gray is the type to show affection by being sarcastic

also spend a lot of time just hanging out show off your magic to each other and getting ideas from each other

When you get together Happy still makes stupid jokes, Natsu still tries to tease you guys but fails, Lucy, Erza and now Wendy are secretly planning your wedding as soon as it announced you're dating, and Carla is happy for you two.

Now on to some other aspects of the relationship,

If you are having a bad day because of something reminding you of your past Gray will 100% understand, and try to help you calm down

He knows how hard it is to have a difficult childhood and lose your family so he's going to try to make it better

he may not be able to bring your mom back but he can try not to fight Natsu as much and stay close to you for support.

and vice versa, if he's having a hard time with let's say Juvia being annoying, You would be there to try and be a buffer, or if she doesn't take the hint just telling her off.

Overall I see Gray and you being very close and comforting when its just the two of you, but if you're with the rest of the guild or on a mission you know how to be respectful of everyone around you.

[smoshsfavoritepizzaplace]

Did I miss something?

I saw this on Shourtney.evermore's ig story.

I know that we've been over this a billion times before, but what happened now?

I saw that some people were mentioning Shayne's post, were he fell down the stairs, but that is bound to happen. Honestly, it is rather harmless given how people ask what he thinks about everything that Court does. Agreed though, it is overkill.

I mean come on, he is partially in the photo! Who's lap is Bones sitting in then? It's not like people imagined he was there. I've seen people get their heads ripped off for just seeing Bones and going...

LOOK IT'S SHAYNE'S NEMESIS!

Which is something they both talked about on the pod openly🤷‍♂️

Not to mention, how nobody has a problem bringing up Shayne and putting his @ in their comment trying to shoot their shot and joke about asking him if he can fight every time Court posts any kind of photo. My guy, trust me I realize how stunning they are, but you can't police everything people do.

Quite frankly, this is right up there with the jokes about if their marriage is real or whenever Shayne holds Court and then there is the dumb bro esqe joke about nobody taking them from him. This one just bugs me more, because people don't seem to be too bothered by it. When they are deliberately including him like that, just to make a lame joke.

I don't understand how it's ok to continue to do an overdone joke like this, but if you ask a question about a shirt that Court's wearing, wondering if it is Shayne's, you get annihilated. Or like how I mentioned before about the Bones pic, who do we think took the Court photo in the stairwell? Shayne, right?

So, why all the fuss about something like that? He is their husband after all and it's not like people are asking for tiktoks again or asking what's Shayne up to?

I wish the waters didn't get so muddy sometimes, some things are completely harmless in my book, while others get blown up for some reason🤷‍♂️

When it comes to shourtney, and many other things, I feel like boundary lines are constantly blurred and no one really knows what’s okay and what isn’t. I say just don’t stress about it too much. I know some fans can be a lot at times, but you can’t change what they say/do unfortunately. It’s way too overwhelming trying to make every single fan respectful so sadly the best thing to do is just ignore them imo

[possession1981-moving]

Can you believe I recently (well, over a month ago now definitely, but I'm lazy so let's ignore that) hit 5000 followers on this blog because I sure cannot. Either way, I did and I am soooo sososososoooo grateful for ever single person who follows me and who appreciates my dumb jokes (such as this perfectly on-brand, tacky, campy, ridiculous but beautifully made gif of Shinee) and who reblogs my gifs and edits, especially when you put very very sweet comments in the tags it's a joy to be able to have a space to share my little creations that may not really mean much to the outside world but they do to ME.

Anyways! As a token of my appreciation I have decided to do a little gif request event which will be open until I say it's not anymore tbh... No set time limit we'll just see how my stamina is I suppose. The request rules will be at the bottom of this post. However, first I want to give a quick shoutout to SOME of my most beloved mutuals who make scrolling on this stupid website so much better. (As you know, there's a cap on how many tags we can add to posts, so to those mutuals who may not be mentioned here know that I love you SOOOOOOO much still, and I kith u!)

@aintgonnadance 🖤 @awek-s 🖤 @baeseongyeob 🖤 @berryjaellie 🖤 @byunbaekhyunie 🖤 @catchmewjsn 🖤 @cheolmatez 🖤 @dokyeomini 🖤 @dongkwan 🖤 @duovxq 🖤 @exidtual 🖤 @filmopen 🖤 @flops 🖤 @gaykey 🖤 @glowinseong 🖤 @got7 🖤 @hoshifromkpop 🖤 @hozierbyrne 🖤 @hwangcha 🖤 @hwiyoungies 🖤 @hyunpic 🖤 @hyunseungs 🖤 @jeonwonwoo 🖤 @jikyu 🖤 @juyeonis 🖤 @kangyeosaang 🖤 @kyubins 🖤 @librapropaganda 🖤 @moonsua 🖤 @notyuta 🖤 @park-doha 🖤 @ryudaeng 🖤 @seonghwasblr 🖤 @shnryjn 🖤@smartrabbit 🖤 @smingi 🖤 @sodacreams 🖤 @stepmom 🖤 @sunmisbf 🖤 @sunwoonie 🖤 @taeminie 🖤 @taeminnomuyeppeo 🖤 @wantbytaemin 🖤 @yejiswife 🖤 @yirenz 🖤 @yoohyeontual 🖤 @yukuz 🖤 @yunkyoung 🖤 @yunwooz 🖤 @yutaslaugh

REQUEST EVENT RULES AND REGULATIONS I will be taking three kinds of requests for this event! Two are music video requests, and the third is a fun option if you want a surprise.

Full music video - this is exactly what it sounds like. You may request that I gif any kpop music video, however I reserve the right to choose not to gif it if it's an artist or group I don't want to gif (I won't list them, but it's a pretty standard group), or I can't find a file that lets me gif to the standard I want to keep.

Member music video - very similar to the former, you may request gifs of any single member of a group from a specific music video and I shall be at your command, although the same reservations as above apply. Since these are much faster to do than full mv sets, they are preferred over the latter.

My favourite x - this is the option if you want to venture outside of music videos, and it's here because my beloved Eri suggested it. You may request gifs of my favourite of whatever you want. Favourite hairstyle on x idol? Favourite era of x group? Favourite styling for x group? etc. etc. The same reservations as above apply, however. Don't ask me for my favourite beet member.

Okay, that's all I think! Please send asks via my ask box only, and please have some patience because well, I'm mentally ill. Requests are open for anyone who wants to send one, and I take them on anon as well. Once again, thank you soooooooo much for the 5k I love you all.

[atticssmellgood]

could u please write spencer reid with male reader who hasn’t had a great childhood so he never experienced bubbles, coloring books or parks since his parents just never cared :( so he’s more childish than a normal adult but spencer js loves him and gives him all the color books and blows all the bubbles possible for him 😭

The Childish Kind of Love

Spencer Reid x Male!reader(he/him pronouns)

Summary: reader opens up about his childhood and Spencer does his best to fix what was broken

CW: mentions of childhood neglect, self conscious reader, a little angst, minor cursing

A/N: This is me coming out of my very random and long hiatus. I just kind of lost my motivation there for a little bit BUT IM BACK!! This is such a cute idea and I had so much fun writing this❤️

—————————

“God Y/N you’re such a child.”

The laughter at the table stops abruptly, three out of the four of you taken aback from the sudden quip. You look to your other friend sitting across from you at the table, a genuinely confused expression on your face.

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes drill into your own and her voice is dripping with venom as she repeats herself.

“I said, you’re such a child Y/N.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, considering how abrupt the comment was and the fact that it came from none other than one of your closest friends. She had been a little quiet during the whole meet-up but you had just chalked it up to a late night out or a sour day. You certainly hadn’t been expecting this. She took your silence as an invitation to continue.

“I mean, I personally don’t even want to be around you anymore. All you ever want to do is talk about things like comic books and cartoons when the rest of us grew out of that shit by age seven.” She scoffed

You can feel your heart start to sink. You push yourself further into the booth seat, looking anywhere but at your friends.

“I…. I’m sorry I didn’t know I was annoying you guys with that stuff.” You press your lips into a thin line and swallow the growing lump in your throat.

She continued, ignoring the quiet apology.

“I mean seriously, you make dumb, unfunny jokes that we only laugh at because we don’t want you to feel bad about your childish sense of humor. When we hang out, it feels more like a babysitting job without the pay.”

You gain the courage to look at the other two of the group for some sort of sign that any of this was a lie. You were hoping it was all some sick joke and you guys could just go back to laughing and drinking coffee together like you usually would.

One of them just avoids eye contact, guilt written all over his face as he plays with his hands. The other looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

You can feel your heart breaking into little pieces at that moment. You clench your jaw in an effort to keep the tears in your eyes as you stood up. You internally thank yourself for deciding to sit on the outside of the booth, because at least now you can make a quick getaway.

“Well then,” you pull out your wallet and take out a couple of bills to pay for the coffee, slapping them on the cool metal table.

“Consider this your paycheck.”

Before they could say anything more, you promptly turn on your heal and make your way towards the exit.

——————

By the time Spencer got home, it was already dark outside and you had been crying for god knows how long.

The door opened with a slight squeak as light from the hallway illuminated the small apartment.

“Y/N?”

You could hear the floorboards creak when he stepped into the space, following the sound of the front door shutting with a click.

You stood up from your half-sitting-half-laying down position on the couch and immediately ran over to wrap your arms around his waist. After what happened this morning, all you wanted to do was hear his voice and feel his body heat.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, putting one hand under your shirt to rub soothing motions up and down your back. You could feel the tears coming back as you replayed what your friend said in your mind over and over.

“You’re such a child”

“The rest of us grew out of that shit by age seven”

“Spencer?” Your voice is slightly muffled by his shoulder when you speak, but he hears you.

“Hm?” He hums quietly.

“Do you think I’m too childish?”

He pulls back slightly to look at your face, his expression puzzled.

“No, why on earth would you ever think that?”

You avoid his eyes when you speak again. “It’s just-“ you stop and take a deep breath, realizing that this is something you want to tell him. It might do you some good to get it off your chest after all these years.

You pull away from Spencer and take his hand, leading him away from the front door and towards the couch. The two of you sit down on the small sofa, and you take another deep breath in preparation for this conversation.

“Earlier today I went out with my closer friends, and found out that hanging out with me is comparable to ‘babysitting without the pay’” you add air quotes to the last bit and let out a dry laugh.

Spencer stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.

You sighed and looked down at your hands, trying to figure out the right words to say.

“When I was a kid, my parents weren’t exactly…attentive to my needs.” You started, swallowing the oncoming tears “I was the result of an unplanned pregnancy so they never cared that much about me.”

“When they weren’t out getting drunk or high, they were acting like I didn’t even exist. They couldn’t even bother to pick me up from school or feed me, so you could imagine their reactions when I would ask them to go somewhere fun or to buy me a simple coloring book.”

Tears were now flowing freely down your face, dripping onto your hands as you tried to steady your breathing. It seemed stupid that you were crying over such a simple thing.

Spencer pulled you closer to him on the couch, making you lift your head up to look at him. His expression was a soft one. It wasn’t a look of pity, it was a look of understanding.

He gently wiped your face with the sleeve of his cardigan before speaking.

“Give me a list.”

“What?”

“Give me a list of things you didn’t get to do as a kid, and we’ll do them.”

He smiled when your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Um, I don’t have a specific list but….I’ve never blown bubbles before.”

“Alright, get your shoes on, we’re going on an adventure.” He gets up from the couch, bringing you with him to the door.

——————

The two of you were now standing in a park, in the middle of the nights, with cheap blowing bubbles in hand.

Opening up the bottle, you were immediately hit with a soapy smell that made your nose burn.

“Are you sure these are safe to use?” You ask, pulling out the tiny wand inside the bottle and staring at it like it was another life form instead of just a piece of plastic

Spencer laughed at your hesitance and opened his bottle as well. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Sooo, how do you do this, exactly?”

“You just dip the wand into the soap mixture, and blow through it.”

You dip the wand back down into the bottle and bring it to your lips, gently blowing into it.

A stream of bubbles flow from the wand before you can’t blow any more without dipping it back into the container.

You stare in childish wonder as they float down to the ground, popping on the blades of grass

“Magical, right?” Spencer laughs before blowing some of his own bubbles.

You continue to stare at them floating downwards, laughing as you blow some more and attempt to catch one in your hands. You frown when it pops and leaves a sticky residue behind.

“Not very durable, huh?” You say as you wipe your hands on your shirt.

“No, not at all. In fact, the bubbles are made up of three layers; an inner and outer layer made up of soap and a layer of water in between, like a water sandwich. Water evaporating from the bubble film is what makes it pop.” Spencer smiles at you, clearly proud of the built-in encyclopedia of information he has in his brain.

You move towards him and wrap your arms around his waist before pecking his cheeks, then his lips. He squeezes you closer when you try to pull away, drawing out the kiss longer than you intended.

When you finally pull away, he smiles a sweet thing.

“Well, was the bubble-blowing Everything you wanted and more?” He asks as he gently grabs your hands and runs over the ridges of your knuckles with his thumbs

“Yes, I’d say it was.” You beamed.

You both stand in silence for what felt like forever before he brings his hands up to your face, cupping it lightly.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he was trying to think of something. Then he spoke.

“I love you so much Y/N, childish or not, and screw anyone who willingly misses out on your amazing personality just because they think they’re too grown up for it.”

Tears started to well in your eyes for the third time that night. Except this time, it wasn’t because of pain or sadness or your shitty friends.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

And before he could speak, you pulled him in for a kiss that tasted only of blowing bubbles and happiness.