#bc exactly three whole people will read it

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not two in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[bomberqueen17]

tone indicators

I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:

they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.

but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.

It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.

So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.

This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.

I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.

But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.

Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.

Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.

And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??

For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)

[ariaste]

If you could sit the vampire polycule/diabolicule down in a row on a sofa to watch one (1) movie with the intent of causing the maximum amount of psychic damage and/or drama, what movie would you pick for them? I'll go first: Moulin Rouge. Hear me out.

Louis is upset because he's a pretentious snob (affectionate) when it comes to Art and he's complaining that it's just a ripoff of the opera La Traviata. He's correct but he doesn't need to say it, he is allergic to camp and he's harshing everyone's vibes with his barely-under-his-breath scoffing.

Daniel is ruefully identifying way too heavily with Ewan McGregor's character. Daniel is sitting here with his mouth firmly shut like, "Nobody call me out for being exactly Like That when I was 20, nobody look at me, nobody read my mind, nobody make eye contact with me, god this is cringe. Look, he's even got the drug use going on." (This is show!canon that we're talking about so thankfully Daniel doesn't have to also cope with the "AND he's embarrassingly into a hot redheaded theater nerd, god just kill me now, nobody Perceive me please" vector of embarrassment). Daniel is also not having a good time with the creepy older men skeeving on this theater nerd sex worker once he thinks the words "Hm, Marius vibes"

Daniel and Louis also feeling kind of mutually overstimulated from how their heightened vampire super-senses are reacting to all of the Colors and Flashing Lights and Whippy Camera Movements etc. They have matching headaches and are feeling slightly nauseated.

Everyone is feeling some degree of slightly triggered, emotionally, about either Paris In General (Daniel), or Niche-Theater Life In Paris (Armand, Louis, Lestat). Big mixed feelings also about tuberculosis, a disease that makes people cough up blood.

Armand and Lestat are profoundly NOT allergic to camp, unlike some people on this wretched sofa. Armand and Lestat cannot be overstimulated by Colors/Flashing Lights/Whippy Camera Movements/etc, bc their vampire neurodivergence goes in the opposite direction. They have not blinked or moved in 90 minutes except to breathlessly clutch each other's hands. Lestat is muttering feverishly under his breath like "armand. armand. armand. is it maybe time for us to found another theater together, do you think???? armand??? what if we just. are you doing anything after this. how much cash do you have on hand right now." his ADHD hyperfixation on a new-old hobby is going BUCK WILD. He has to recreate this except EVEN MORE. Armand is watching Satine Suddenly Die At The End, just like how in all of his silly little plays someone also Suddenly Dies At The End, and he is deciding that this is maybe god's perfect movie. This is the greatest film either of them has ever seen. They think this is Cinema.

Armand and Lestat will have never agreed with each other for so many consecutive minutes as they will when the credits roll and Louis starts monologuing about how much it sucks to the point of VAST OFFENSE AND HURT FEELINGS on Armand and Lestat's part

the whole mess devolves into a screaming fight between the three of them while Daniel both refuses to referee and also won't stop making bitchy comments once he twigs to the fact that nobody else seems to have noticed that he was Going Through Some Cringe Nostalgia. The night is ruined, no one is happy, Louis takes Lestat floating the idea of founding a new theater with Armand since "you clearly don't understand art, LOUIS" as one of Lestat's top five greatest betrayals. Armand is not giving a straight answer about whether he is on board with the theater idea or not, which upsets everyone equally, unlike if he had said yes or no clearly and at least gotten one ally locked down. Louis appeals to Daniel to oppose the theater idea; Daniel does a bad job of doing so because he chronically believes that maybe having some hobbies will Make Armand Worse, which is a thing he's into sexually. Everyone goes to bed mad. The passive-aggression for the next week could be cut with a knife.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ ii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

warning/s: graphic description of blood and gore, body insecurity, lando might be a lil ooc

masterlist.

God bless Jinnie Jo and her overly prepared self because you thought you’d die when you got attacked by the damn shellfish allergy in the car on the way to the hotel. It's fortunate that Jinnie happens to carry around your allergy meds. You dry-swallow the tablets without hesitation, uttering your thanks to Jinnie.

“Song Dan-ssi gave me a list of your allergy meds before we left,” Jinnie tells you. Warmth floods your chest. Manager-nim may be in another country but he never fails to take care of you. You're definitely going to buy something for Manager-nim when you return to Seoul. A jacket perhaps?

The first thing you do the moment you enter your hotel room is kick your boots off, take a warm shower, and reunite with the love of your life—the bed. The mattress swallows you whole and you let out a content sigh as you allow your body to sink in it. Not even ten minutes later, you grab your bag, which you have haphazardly thrown on the bed, take out your phone, and open the X app. You type Lando’s name in the search box.

username1: i am disgusted by the people who still support lando norris like yall really support a man who got a girl pregnant and refusing to take responsibility? i just know mclaren is lying when they said he's not the father

username2: justice for the girl that lando norris got pregnant! he should be kicked out of mclaren!

username3: that girl lucky bc her baby daddy is THE lando norris. she should tell us how he fucks in great detail

You cringe. Your fingers tap the three buttons at the upper right corner and without hesitation, pressing report. You continue to scroll down the tweets, reading them one by one as the clock ticks.

username4: what lie will mclaren tell again to protect little lando norris?

Your phone pings. A notification bar appears on the upper portion of your phone screen. You have received a message. You stop reading the tweet and open your messages app.

unknown number: hey

unknown number: this is lando

unknown number: your boyfriend?

unknown number: the fake one

You immediately save his number in your contacts. You name him Lando Norris.

you: hey there

you: do i just call you lando or

lando: you can call me baby

You snigger at his flirting attempt. Ten points for trying, Lando Norris.

you: okay baby

lando: 😳

lando: okay

lando: we agreed on hard launching each other in socmed right?

you: yah

lando: i kinda don't have a picture of you?

lando: pr told me to ask you if you can send me one

lando: i’ll send you one too

you: i have an idea

you: put me on your story

lando: yeah im planning to do exactly that

lando: have you been listening to what we talked about earlier in the meeting?

you: then delete it after a few mins

lando: wait why

you: make it look like you did it on accident

Your first mistake in your first PR relationship with another idol is that you immediately hard-launched each other on Instagram after Dispatch released his pictures kissing a guy in a bar. People got skeptical and most of them called out your relationship as a PR stunt. They called you a cover up, which you were, but they weren't supposed to know that.

You're not going to make the same mistake twice.

lando: and this will work?

you: let's not shake the confidence i have

lando: 😂

you: people are already expecting mclaren to set a pr stunt so you can gain the public’s hearts back

you: u have to make yourself look like you never needed a pr stunt in the first place, that you’re not trying to win the public back

you: people will catch up if you suddenly post that you have a girlfriend in the middle of your hot issue

you: netizens are quickwitted theyre not as dumb as most of us think

You hope you're explaining it well. You're trying to make your point as clear as possible but it's hard. You forgot the other English words you’ve learned.

lando: okay i get ur point

lando: i’ll do what u want

lando: someone has to tell pr what u planned though

lando: it's not going to be me

Fuck the PR. You're not going to tell them and let them have a field day tomorrow. That's what they get for expecting you to sign that stupid first contract they made.

You open your camera app and take a quick selfie.

No. Your nose looks too big at that angle.

Again.

Now, your forehead looks like an airport.

Again.

Your teeth are showing. The coffee stains are visible.

Again.

Again.

Again.

you: *sent a photo*

lando: i

lando: help me with the caption? my braincells flew off

you: idk not good at captions

you: just say hello loml or smth

This is the story you want to tell:

You met Lando a year after you departed from ORACLE in Australia.

You have a mutual friend—named Tori Allen—who introduced you to one another. Tori Allen does not exist. She's just the fictional side character of your love story.

You started out as friends. Lando is freshly out from a breakup and you’re just trying to live a quiet life after your fall from grace.

You talked for months because of your mutual interest in cars. Eventually, you started going on casual dates.

You asked Lando to keep it secret. He said yes in respect to you. HAN Entertainment already released a press statement regarding your mental health status after the 2021 incident so the public would assume that this was the reason why.

The relationship turned serious three months before Lando’s scandal.

Lando never got the girl pregnant. He never touched that girl. He was loyal to you.

Jinnie almost breaks down the door the next morning. You open it before she can do so. She angrily stomps inside your room and you close the door behind her. Her face is red, her expression taut.

“It's seven,” your eyebrows crease together. You make a quick glance at the phone in your hand. 7:22, the clock in your lockscreen projects. “You told me we are supposed to meet at twelve.”

“McLaren PR called me up,” Jinnie informs you. You’re beginning to get an idea where this conversation is going. “You didn't do what we agreed on.”

“And what did we agree on?” you cross your arms over your chest. You flutter your eyelashes innocently at her.

“That you’re going to choose photos to post on each of your accounts and let PR handle the captions. Norris posted something immediately without PR checking it and deleted it!”

“Did he tell you that it was my idea?”

“No, but I know that it was and it turns out I’m right. You just confirmed it.”

“Did it work?” you question.

“I can't with you!” she throws her hands up in the air, frustrated. “We are supposed to follow orders!”

“No,” you say. “You are supposed to follow orders. That's what Yoon PD-nim told you. He told me to do what I believed was best.”

You open X. Lando’s name is at the top of the trending list. You press his name and read through the tweets that appeared.

username5: LANDO NORRIS WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR

username6: EVERYONE HERE ARE THE RECEIPTS *screenshot*

username7: is this what you call the freudian slip lol

username8: I AM NOT CRAZY GUYS LANDO ACCIDENTALLY STORIED HIS GF IN HIS PUBLIC ACC

username9: he deleted it so quick too 😭 im sure the man panicked

username10: HE CHEATED ON HIS GF AND GOT A GIRL PREGNANT??!?

username11: for all we know he didn't even bang that girl 🤷 his girlfriend’s pretty hot he’s definitely not cheating on her

username10: men cheat on their pretty wives and girlfriends all the time

username12: not lando norris that man’s in love LOVE can u see his caption

username13: the caption??? lando’s pretty smooth with his words

username14: he’s taking smooth operator lessons from carlos

username15: im crazy but what if this is just a pr stunt 🤔

username16: girl he won't delete the story in a panic if it's a pr stunt

username17: he was definitely going to post it in his priv and made a mistake 😭

username18: very lando of him

username17: he stronger than me bc if my girlfriend was that pretty, her face will be flooding my instagram

username19: ignore lando, his girl tho 😳

username20: he called her loml omgggg

username21: booo luisa’s prettier

username22: fok off and move on

username23: lando can you fight? meet me at the kfc parking lot and let's fight

username24: probably not but he can run you over with his car

username25: i swear ive seen that girl before i just cant pinpoint where

username26: IT'S [NAME] EX MEMBER OF ORACLE WE HAVENT SEEN HER SINCE 2021

username27: so he bagged a kpop girlie??? lando got game dayummm

username28: isn't [name] an illegal street racer? that's why she got kicked out of the group right?

username29: an f1 racer and a street racer couple 😳 omg what in booktok is this

username30: she's not a streetracer she only watched the street race

username28: she told you that herself?

username30: her company did

username31: THEY CANT BE DATING OMG LANDO YOU CAN DO BETTER SHE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE A WAG

username32: and u think ur better than her?

“It's working,” you state. You turn to Jinnie, raising your phone in the air and waving it. A smug smirk spreads to your lips. “It's working.”

Nobody is doubting the relationship like the time with Minhyung. This is a good start. Now, onto the next part.

“So are we really going to keep having lunch dates until your race?” you poke the shrimp on the plate with your fork. You're having pasta again. In the same place, too. It sucks but you swallow the food and smile as if you’re enjoying the meal.

For today's outfit, Jinnie chose a Valentino Garavani black midi dress paired with Jimmy Choo Antia leather sandals. Lando matched your outfit with a black silk button up and off-white pants. You’re both playing the “looking like a couple” card well.

“I believe so,” Lando says. You mentally count the days of the calendar in your head. The FP1 is scheduled to begin in two days. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask….”

“Hm?”

“The team didn't scold you a lot, did they?”

“They didn’t,” you give him a tight smile. Did he worry? For you? That's very sweet of him. “Why would they? My plan went great.”

Lando nods, “It did. You’re good at this.”

You smile at his compliment, shrugging a shoulder. I’m supposed to be good at this. I have no other choice.

“Let's show them our story,” you say. “Show, not tell. People are more inclined to believe actions rather than words. Show them the story we want them to know and we don't answer their questions early so we can keep the attention and the curiosity on us. Once the timing is right, you answer their questions, one by one. This is risky because if we don't act right, we’re done….”

You set the fork down and finally stop terrorizing the poor shrimp. It's completely obliterated now.

“But I believe we can act right,” honesty bleeds through your words. “You're lovable and you already act like a sweet boyfriend without trying.”

Lando purses his lips and averts his gaze. You see pink dusting his cheeks.

“I try.”

“Nice try,” your words come out dry. You give him a thumbs-up. “Also, I’m full.”

“You only ate half your plate,” Lando points out.

“The portion is too big. I’m a light eater.”

HAN Entertainment is partly to blame for that. You got accustomed to their extreme diets and small meal portions that you cannot even eat more than a small bowl of rice.

“Do you not like the food?” he asks, concerned.

You don’t answer the question. Instead, you lace your fingers together and rest your chin on them, leaning slightly forward.

“I have another plan. Wanna hear it?”

You still don't like having attention to yourself. The feeling of having eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make a mistake still terrifies you. But attention, the right kind especially, is a weapon. You need a weapon to fight this war. A war to build your career again.

“Keep them on their toes,” the instructor of your PR training class once said. “Give them what they want piece by piece, just enough to keep them wanting more, but never give them everything.”

Until now, you still abide by her teachings. God bless Kim Gaon-ssi and her big brain, wherever she is now. She resigned from HAN entertainment a year ago.

It's been a few days since Lando pulled that stunt in his Instagram story and yet, the attention you're receiving from the fans is not simmering down. You didn't expect anyone to be this involved or curious about a driver's love life but here everyone was.

You wake up at seven and then proceed to spend an hour on your phone while lying in bed to push all the sleepiness away from your system. You leave your bed at nine, change out of your sleeping wear, perform a whole morning ritual inside the bathroom, and by eleven, you send Jinnie a message to get brunch and invite her to eat together inside the privacy of your hotel room. She arrives after fifteen minutes with hotel service food. You eat until twelve thirty and after eating, you begin to get ready.

The free practice session is at 5:30 PM. You can afford a bit more time to get ready so you shower again. It took you nearly two hours. In the meantime, Jinnie prepares your clothes.

You mentally thank the heavens when you see trousers neatly folded on your bed. If Jinnie forces you to wear dresses again, you’re going to lose it. You're conscious of how big your thighs look. You don't even have a thigh gap. Big thighs, small ankles, and muscular calves. They're just a few of your numerous bodily insecurities.

Jinnie pairs the Moon Choi black back pocket trousers with a Dior Toile de Jouy Sauvage silk top. For the shoes, she chooses a pair of white Fila chunky sneakers. She helps you apply your makeup and fix your hair. To finish the look, you grab your black cross body bag, smart watch, sunglasses, and a black ball cap.

Jinnie snatches the ball cap from your hands and replaces it with a McLaren ball cap. A tacky orange with the number four. You raise your brow at her. She gives you a pointed look, a look that says: don’t even try to protest. You sigh, resigned, and pull it onto your head.

She scans your appearance, dragging her coal eyes from the top of your head to your toes. She huffs, satisfied.

“You look perfect.”

Perfect is the goal.

Jinnie drives you to the race venue. She drops you off at the parking lot. She's not happy with it. Jinnie wanted to come. You told her no. You can handle this little act alone. You don’t see an ex-idol with a manager, do you?

The moment you exit the car, you slip on your mask. Figuratively and literally. You tip your ball cap upwards to scan your surroundings, searching for the way in. You carry your phone in your right hand and your paddock pass in the left. Lando gave it to you during dinner yesterday.

A racing event is crowded with people. That's a given. Perhaps not as crowded as a concert but still crowded nonetheless. A stage will not separate you from the people nor a barricade. Unfortunately. You have no bodyguard, no manager, no HAN Entertainment staff.

You're not here as ORACLE’s [Name] but as Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

Your feet lead you to a path where there are less people. You message Lando that you’ve arrived. He replies in a matter of seconds.

lando: ill come and get you

lando: wait for me

You remove your cap, fix your hair, before pulling the cap on. You spot a man with a Nikon DSLR standing a good distance. He is wearing a cord around his neck. The word MEDIA is printed in bold white letters. Your lips curl a little underneath your face mask.

It is show time.

During your trainee years, acting classes are mandatory. You know the basics. You're confident that you're good at acting. If you weren't, the company wouldn't have pushed you to act in two dramas as a side character during your rookie years. You received a reward for your performances, too.

To look lost, you have to keep glancing around you as if you’re contemplating which way to go. You have to look unsure of your actions. Hesitant. You have to constantly look at your phone as if you’re reading directions in it or texting someone to tell you where you should be going. You have to scratch your nape a few times to express nervousness. You're in a place you don’t know, it’s natural to be nervous.

Someone is bound to approach you and help you. When they do, you remove the cap but not the mask and then hope they know who you are. When they don't, well…. that's a problem for future you. You haven't thought that far.

“Hi, excuse me, do you need help?”

You perk up. Orange fills your view. A group of four girls have approached you and they all wear twinning McLaren merch. You can see that three of them sport the number four in their shirts, Lando’s race number. You involuntarily swallow.

There was a case once where a rookie actress got beaten up by her idol boyfriend’s fans promptly after the release of their dating news. Fans can be so jealous to the point of violence. It's a toxic fan culture. That's why so many Kpop idols resort to keeping their relationships private and secret. You hope you won’t get beaten up.

But also, given that they’re McLaren and Lando fans, there is a high possibility that they’ll recognize you. Which is exactly what you wanted. So you push that stupid fear aside and keep the show going.

“Hi, uh,” you remove your cap and lower your face mask until it's bunched up below your nose. “I’m kind of…lost? Do you know the way to the, uh…”

You forget what it's called. McLaren garage? You don't remember the exact word Lando used. You're still not confident that you know the difference between a paddock, a garage, and a livery.

“Wait, I know you!”

You purposely widen your eyes.

“You’re Lando’s girlfriend!”

You smile sheepishly, scratching your cheek with your finger.

The girls break out into loud and high-pitched squeals. Their voices are so shrill that you cannot help but wince. You motion for them to quiet down. Inwardly, you want them to keep being loud. Loud enough to warrant the attention of the photographer, your target.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, we absolutely have to take a selfie!”

You barely understand her rapid spitfire of words until she takes out her phone. Panic instantly swells within you.

This is not the plan. You only wanted one person to take the necessary picture. Not this.

You hastily slap your hand over the lower half of your face. You stagger backwards and stumble against a sturdy wall. Your hands fly out to your sides as you feel yourself lose your balance. Two hands grip your shoulders and you hear a surprised woah! from behind you. You lift your head.

It's not a wall. It's Lando.

His beautiful, beautiful eyes gaze down at you. The colors look lighter under the sun. His thick brows are furrowed together, his forehead creasing.

Lando spins you around so you're face-to-face with his hard chest. You squint at the multiple logos printed on the long-sleeves he’s wearing. Is this what he wears when he races? He swiftly takes the McLaren ball cap off your hand and puts it on your head. His hand remains tenderly flat on your shoulder blade, the other lays on your cheek as if he's trying to cover your face. You tug your face mask up and rub your throat.

“Hi,” Lando greets the girls sweetly. This causes the eruption of another wave of high-pitched squeals. “I’m sorry but do you mind if we keep the cameras away? Our relationship isn't out and as much as possible, we’d like to keep it that way. Can we respect my girl’s privacy please?”

He sounds exactly like a male lead in a romance Kdrama. You know it's fake, that the both of you are playing roles, but his words and the way he delivers them so effortlessly makes you momentarily doubt if he's really acting. It causes a butterfly to flutter in your stomach and your pulse to steadily accelerate. His hands are large and warm and for a moment, it makes you wonder if this is what security feels like. If this is what it feels like to be loved.

Then, you get reminded that it is all an act.

How can actors not fall in love with their co-actors when acting can feel this real at times?

“Thank you,” you hear Lando say. You miss the previous parts of the conversation because of the thoughts that invaded your mind.

“You look so cute together, oh my god. I’m going to die,” the fangirl adds. Lando’s chest vibrates as he chuckles, the sound deep and warm.

“We need to go, sorry. Enjoy the race today.”

He taps his thumb against your shoulder blade and he starts walking, his hands not detaching themselves from your skin. You keep your head low as Lando guides you away. In your peripheral vision, you see the photographer’s camera pointed towards the two of you. A self-satisfied smirk plays on your lips.

“How did I do?” Lando asks the moment he removes his helmet. He is sporting a bright grin, so bright that you're sure it’s going to make the sun envious, as his fingers comb through his damp curly hair. A few stray strands are stuck on his sweaty forehead. You feel the urge to sweep them aside for him.

You search through your mental thesaurus for the synonyms of the word amazing and have chosen: “Impressive.”

Light beads of sweat trickle down his face and neck. A McLaren staff member comes and hands him a towel to wipe them off. Lando thanks her and she leaves. He thrusts the towel towards you. You blink in confusion.

“Will you do the honors?”

“Can't you do it yourself?”

“But you have to play the part of a sweet girlfriend, am I right or am I right?” You roll your eyes at his cheekiness, rising to a stand. You place the McLaren jacket in your hands on your chair. Lando handed it to you before he climbed into the car. You don't know the reason behind his action. Nevertheless, you held the jacket for him.

You take the towel from his hands, your fingers grazing with his. Lando’s smile threatens to split in half as he puts his hands behind his back, parts his legs a little, and then bends down so you won't have a difficult time wiping his sweat for him. You're not that much shorter than him and your height difference is perfectly reasonable and comfortable but you're still grateful that he's doing this for you.

You don't wipe his sweat. Instead, you pat them out. Patting is gentle on skin. The towel will simply absorb the sweat on his skin. Rubbing the skin can lead to skin irritation and inflammation. Lando’s eyes flutter close at your actions and you swear you see him leaning against your hand.

“You raced good today,” you praise him.

You have zero idea on what happened in the past hour. The cars went around in circles. Then, they time their laps. They’re not even racing each other. You thought they would.

In all honesty, you think the entire thing is a bore. The street races you went to when you were a teen were more fun. A minimum of three drivers gets injured every race and it's highly likely someone ends up dead, which is your messed-up definition of the word fun.

You’re more interested in the special guest who decided to grace the track with its great reptile presence. A dinosaur. Kidding, it's just a lizard. It looks like it was surveying the scene and strategizing a great dinosaur invasion.

Lando's chest swells, “Well, I have to impress my girl.”

He opens his eyes and they meet yours. They're twinkling with mirth.

“Color me impressed then.” Despite your words, your tone is unimpressed.

He smiles impossibly wider, now showing his full set of pearly white teeth. He bites his bottom lip. You stop patting his sweat and lower your hand to the side.

“You don't have any more races tonight?” you question. Lando straightens.

“Later at 9 PM.”

“That's quite late.”

“It is?” Lando’s head tilts to the side a little. “Do you sleep early?”

You hardly sleep at all. You have a hard time maintaining regular human sleeping and waking hours. Like the other half of the world population.

“That's not it,” you shake your head. “I kind of just expected that the next practice session would be tomorrow morning.”

“Singapore usually holds night races. Track temperatures are low and the organizers can broadcast the race during peak viewing hours in European time,” Lando explains. “And they hold two practice races a day because it only lasts an hour.”

“That makes sense.”

“Are you hungry?” Lando questions, smoothly redirecting the conversation to food.

“I could eat.” You're not particularly hungry. You're not full either.

“I know a good place that sells these amazing wraps.”

Wraps sound enticing. You can't remember the last time you've eaten one.

“Lead the way.”

You chew on your beef wrap slowly as your eyes focus on the screen of your phone. The voices of the sports announcers live broadcasting the ongoing race fill Lando’s driver room. After buying the wrap, he brought you to his driver room so you can enjoy the privacy as you ate. You appreciate the thoughtfulness. You don't think you can eat outside. So many people can see you.

username33: LOOK AT THESE PHOTOS I AM GOING FERAL

username34: HOLUP LANDO'S GIRL WAS IN THE PADDOCK??? ON THE DAY I DECIDED NOT TO GO?? EVJSNSVSISKS

username35: girlie was hiding 😭 she deliberately went through the back of the paddock so no one can see her going to the garage

username36: my friends and i met her today! she looks like she's lost and as fellow mclaren fans, we went to help her and she was so sweet omg and so so shy too. we tried to take a pic with her but lando arrived and told us to respect his girl’s space

username36: and i quote “do you mind if we keep the cameras away? our relationship isn't out and we’d like to keep it that way. can we respect my girl’s privacy please” WHEN I TELL YOU I MELTED ON THE SPOT

username37: girl he really said that???

username38: i’m her friend and yes he really said that 😭

username39: little lando norris is not so little anymore

username37: pls tell me you backed off immediately

username38: we did!! we kinda feel bad now that we discovered she's been battling anxiety since 2021 and that she doesn't like having photos of her taken

username40: NO BECAUSE THE WAY LANDO IS SO PROTECTIVE OF HER?? THE WAY HE SPUN HER AROUND AND PULLED HER TO HIS CHEST?? THE PROTECTIVE HAND ON HER BACK?? HIM COVERING HER FACE?? WE ALL KNOW [NAME] HASN'T BEEN IN THE PUBLIC EYE SINCE 2021 BC OF MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES AFTER HER SCANDAL AND LANDO REALLY TRIED TO PROTECT HER

username41: bae i think you forgot that he's also the reason why [name] is gaining attention again bc he accidentally storied her in his insta

username40: that's why i said tried bestie

username42: i cant believe im crying over this LANDO NORRIS U BETTER TREAT OUR GIRL [NAME] RIGHT

username43: im waiting for @hanentertainmentofficial to say smth

username44: girlie’s career flopped and now she's leeching off lando’s money smh 🙄

username45: bestie she never needed his money she’s already rich from being an idol

username44: correction ex kpop idol, her money’s probably already running out

username45: bestie she's still richer than you while you're 14 (your bio says your 14) and still living with your parents

username46: AND THAT'S VERY SLAY OF HER,, YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A RICH MAN TO LOOK AT YOU

username47: that girl who claimed that lando is her baby daddy is suspiciously quiet rn

You turn your phone off and toss it inside your cross body bag. A sigh flies past your lips as you lean against the back of the couch, setting your unfinished wrap down. Your eyes flutter close. They're beginning to sting. Too much reading.

Sleep latches its claws on you and you allow it to take you.

You stand in darkness, allowing the deafening silence to swallow you whole. Suddenly, a thousand eyes appear. Unblinking. Bloodshot. They're bulging out of their sockets. In unison, the eyeballs move and lock on your figure. Judging. Judging. Judging. Your body trembles at the weight of a thousand gazes. You can’t breathe. You can't speak.

Please stop looking at me.

Please.

I’m begging you.

Stop.

The eyes slowly became bigger and bigger. Then, they disappear. You let out a shaky exhale. You turn around and the world becomes a blinding white.

Cameras. Thousands. No, millions of them. The loud clicking noise fills your ears. Your hands stretch in front of you, trying to cover your face and your body from them. You can only squeeze your eyes shut.

Silence.

The scene changes.

You register the feeling of sand getting stuck in between your toes. Your eyes slowly flutter open. The overcast skyline and the rising tides, the telltale ingredients of a brewing storm over the horizon, can be spectated from the shore. You recognize this place. This was a place you swore you're never going to step foot again.

Jeju.

You hear your mother’s gentle voice whisper your name behind you, causing goosebumps rise on your skin and your entire body to stiffen. It's not the name you own now, but the name you were born with, the name she gave you, the name you lost when you moved to Seoul.

She calls your name again. Again. Again. And again. You ignore every single one.

She stops.

You slowly turn around and you see your mother standing there, a few steps away, barefoot like you and wearing a dress. You remember this dress. She wore it when she was pregnant with you. She keeps the photo in her wallet.

No Eun Ha looks as beautiful as she was in your childhood memories. You greatly resemble her. The eyes most especially. That's why looking at mirrors feels more like a punishment to you more than anything else.

The word “Eomma” rots inside your mouth.

Your Eomma smiles at you. It's empty, her smile. When she smiles, they never reach her eyes. That's the way it has always been. For a second, you consider apologizing.

Eomma, I’m sorry that you have to raise a child you didn’t want. I’m sorry for stealing the light in your eyes.

You don't grow the courage to say it out loud.

No Eun Ha remains smiling. You notice that the edges of her lips curl higher and higher until the smile begins to look unsettling and sinister. Then you see the skin on her cheek tear apart as her smile grows and grows. Blood drips down slowly to her neck and stains the top part of her dress. She opens her mouth into an inhumane size and you see a thousand razor-sharp teeth lining up inside it. Everything is a gory red.

You scream in absolute terror.

She says your name again, her voice this time is not as gentle as you remember.

You wake up screaming and in cold sweat. You fall from your bed and onto the floor on all fours and begin vomiting your guts out. Nothing comes up. Only saliva. You break into pathetic sobs on the floor. Terror is a familiar feeling but you will never ever get used to it.

You don't know how many hours have passed. The floor used to feel cool against your skin but now, it's never been warmer. You still don't possess the strength to leave the floor. Your body feels as if it's being anchored down giant stones.

You're exhausted. You’ve done nothing but you feel exhausted.

You want to run.

You want to run away from this pain and exhaustion.

You need a life where you're no longer exhausted.

Desperately.

A sudden shriek interrupts the silence that wraps the air. A woman's. You don't even flinch. You know it’s just Jinnie. She's the only one who has access to another keycard of your hotel room.

When Lando’s panicking face comes into view, you are shocked. So shocked that you involuntarily raise your arms and accidentally hit him below his jaw. He stumbles backwards, not expecting the blow. He let out a pained groan, hand clutching the area you hit. You quickly rise to your feet, a thousand apologies already on the tip of your tongue. This action, however, triggers a wave of vertigo. Your vision blackens temporarily, your knees giving out at your own weight. Reflexively, you grab hold of the nearest thing beside you, the mattress to soften your fall, before your shaking knees meet the floor.

“[Name]!” Lando’s voice is so loud, you flinch.

When your vision returns, his face is the first thing you see.

“Good morning,” your voice is flat and rough.

Lando hisses and his large hands cradle your cheeks. You're suddenly made aware of how large his hands are. They can cover your entire face with how big they are.

“You're pale,” his voice wobbles. “Shit.”

You want to pass out again. His hands feel so, so comfortable and so, so warm that you want to sleep with this feeling.

“Hey, hey, don't close your eyes. [Name]—” Lando hands move swiftly. One second he’s holding your face. The next second he’s lifting you up in his arms. “Jinnie, call an ambulance!”

The word “ambulance” causes you to wake up. Like really wake up.

Oh, shit.

You struggle in Lando’s arms, “Andwae! No ambulance!”

You pry yourself away from Lando, hopping down to the floor, but the man doesn't retract his hands completely. He still holds onto your forearms to support you as you try to stand.

“No. Just no. I’m fine.”

“[Name]!” Jinnie scolds. She's finally functioning again. She froze in shock when she saw you earlier.

“I’m fine!” you shout. “I’m fine! Really!”

When you get caught that you're weak, you retaliate.

You grit your teeth and clench your jaw.

“I’m. Fine.”

They don’t believe you. You can see it in their eyes. However, they're not going to argue with you. You know they won't.

“I’m going to shower,” you announce. Lando’s grip on your forearm tightens just as you pivot your heels to head to the bathroom.

“I think it's best if you stay today.”

“We all agreed that I’m going to be in the paddock from the practice sessions until the race night.”

“I’ll tell the PR team that you won't go today.”

Your brows furrow.

“Just… Rest for today, okay?”

You turn quiet. Hesitantly, you nod.

“Thanks.”

He turns to Jinnie and tells her, “Take care of her for me. I’ll visit after the qualifying.”

And like that, Lando Norris leaves the hotel room.

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part iii.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can’t stand it.

so what happens when you’re suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,255

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing, a teeny tiny little tension but also, jk is being very sweet :(

a/n; part 3!!! i love doing this little series bc it's so easy to write when the chapters aren't so long <3 i hope all of you enjoy it too despite the fact that it's not a very long read! lmk what you think! ty for reading xx

You didn’t text Jungkook back.

No matter how tempted you were when he tried to bribe you with iced americano – your favorite (which he remembered).

Instead you took it upon yourself and started working on the project without him. Your gut is telling you that he won’t be adding much to the group work nor will he invest the time and energy in it. There’s no reason to wait around for him to actually care about the project when you know that ‘caring’ isn’t one of his primary traits. It used to be but not anymore – if he still cared, he wouldn’t have abandoned your friendship the way he did.

Besides, it’s not like you mind. 

You’ll gladly put his name on the finished product if it means you’ll be rid of him and his flirty, cocky behavior. It’ll only make the process easier and you’ll be able to do it just the way you want. If anything, Jungkook should be grateful that you’re willing to do this on your own and just add his name. Normally you wouldn’t do something like this but you just can’t stand being stuck doing group work with him for three weeks.

Jihyo is right though – it is time to move past it but you can’t. Not yet.

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 5 years – that’s sixty months of spite and aggravation that has affected you way more than you would’ve liked. Like you said, you’re not one to hold grudges against people but this particular grudge has been sitting in the back of your mind for half a decade and while you’d love to be able to just let it go, you can’t.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your phone buzzes due to an incoming text. You reach for it to take a look, your face instantly twisting in annoyance when you realize who’s texting you.

[11:07 AM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: whatcha doing? ;)

You swipe it, removing it from your lock screen before returning your focus to your laptop and the project at hand. You let out a soft sigh and rest your chin in your palm as you play around with the font of the text – Times New Roman suddenly has a whole other meaning after Jungkook’s name was written next to yours the other day.

"It’s good to know your phone works.”

“Oh my god!”

Startled by the low and deep voice right next to your ear, you jump in your seat and turn around with widened eyes. Dark brown eyes with a mischievous glint in them are staring back at you, an amused grin on pink lips as well. You take notice of the two iced americanos in his hand before you’re scowling at your former friend turned stranger.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to do the project,” Jungkook tells you and holds up the beverages. “I brought drinks.”

“How did you know I was here?” You can’t help but ask, wondering how he managed to locate you. The library isn’t exactly one of the places on campus Jeon Jungkook frequents the most. You’d know since you spent a lot of time here. 

He shrugs, “I saw you when I walked by, went and got these,” he places the iced americanos onto the table, “and came back to join you.”

You gape at him for a moment as he pulls a chair out and takes a seat next to you, not a word of protest leaving you because you’re simply speechless once again. He actually got you iced americano and he genuinely wants to do the project. 

Something doesn’t seem right.

Jungkook glances at you with a smirk when he’s met by silence, “what? Surprised that I actually do my school work?”

You shake yourself off your speechlessness and shrug as nonchalantly as possible, “something like that.”

“I see you took a head start,” he nods to your laptop with a chuckle as he pulls his own out of his backpack. That fucking chunky, black backpack he’s had since high school. Back then you wondered what he carried around in it and every time you asked him, he would only shrug and grin. 

Teen boys and their mysterious behavior.

And just for a brief moment, you see your best friend from high school in front of you, sitting here next to you like back in the day – boyish grin and that same glint in his eye. He looks the same and it’s messing with your head because back then you were crushing hard on him. Jungkook has always dominated that casual, boyish charm and look and today is no different. He’s wearing an oversized white Nike t-shirt and black track pants from the same brand. There’s a yellow beanie on top of his head to tame his messy hair. For all you know, he could’ve gotten straight out of bed and gone to campus after throwing on the first outfit he could find – simple, casual, flattering.

The only difference is the two lip rings and the full sleeve of tattoos.

“Yeah, about that,” you start, shooting him a fake, over-friendly smile. “Don't worry about it – I’ll do the project and just add your name before handing it in.”

Jungkook blinks at you for a moment before recovering, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “why? You're scared I’ll fuck it up or some shit?”

You shake your head, “no, I just prefer working alone.”

“You always do projects with Jihyo though,” he points out, squinting his eyes at you.

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Or are you just saying that because I’m your partner?” He challenges.

How do you tell a guy who’s so used to getting his way and having people go out of their way to make sure he’s happy that you don’t want him as your project partner? That you’d rather do an important project that’s meant to be done in pairs by yourself and risk the possibility of getting stressed out just because you got paired up with him? 

“If I’m being honest, yes,” you tell him, not taking a moment to rethink your choice to confront him but just blurting it out instead. “I would rather work myself into the ground than do group work with you. So if you don’t mind…”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow as you do a gesture with your hands as if to shoo him away. He looks rather unbothered though, not moving an inch either. He stares at you for a second and if you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume he’s silently challenging you to try again, to tell him off and ‘shoo’ him away like a fucking bird. 

You don’t.

You stare back at him, your face not showing an ounce of anything as you patiently wait for him to get up and leave.

He doesn’t.

Instead the corners of his mouth curls into a faint smirk as he reaches for one of the iced americanos and slides it towards you. He then grabs the other one and turns to his laptop, silently sipping on his beverage while getting to work on the project.

You feel your blood starting to boil a little but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you pointedly snatch up the iced americano, once again turning your focus to the project at hand. You feel his eyes on you but you keep your eyes on your laptop screen, acting as if his presence isn’t affecting you or bothering you in any way.

You then give in and take a sip of the coffee.

Damn it… 

It’s a really good iced americano.

[coffeegnomee]

Bacon saying "yes. [I watched] the entire thing" about having seen Kab's new video "I watched it for entertainment purposes, but I also think I took some things from it as well"

KAB: "fair enough, I put things in there knowing people would watch it and take things from it"

she brings up how Clown never offered her a team, and that she is close to getting his full trust. Which I think is a lie rooted in the truth that she was so "my son could never hurt a fly he's just misunderstood" in the video to get Clown to trust her more irl/in lifesteal. Like how he trusts Branzy and Ferre.

(even though it is SO WEIRD for her to have been like that about Clown in the video. Like it was an exposé about how right the Mice were to be cautious about her affiliation and assume she was telling him things. She was. Maybe not base coords, but she just leaked that she absolutely told him things about them and that she was not for the team at all. And she left that all in. why? WHY Kab? I can only assume it was to endear her to Clown more? That's the only thing that makes sense? Unless she did it to "prove" to the Mice that they were wrong to assume she was teamed with Clown, "see I was just telling him to be careful and you guys were making him into a villain" or smth. I genuinely don't know. I don't understand her at all.)

But she's bringing it up to Bacon and downplaying it so that he thinks she isn't as close to Clown as she is. She's trying to manipulate him here I think.

then Bacon brings up the google doc of Mapicc's personality, which apparently Mapicc dmed her about (which is hilarious for the record)

To which she says it wasn't real [the doc itself], she made it for the video. She only articulated Mapicc's personality and Mapicc's alone.. which obviously means it was him very much on purpose. So did she do it to stoke Mapicc's ego? Or to see what he would say about it and confirm or deny if she was right? I can so easily imagine her writing it up being like, now Mapicc will think I understand him but this is not really what I think about him and he will be easier to manipulate.

But the analysis, like I wrote about, was right for the wrong reasons, AND YET I saw how they were rooted in very plausible assumptions she would have made bc of talking to Ash.

So I struggle to see how that writeup wasn't what she genuinely thought. This whole video just feels like exactly what she genuinely thought throughout the whole first week.

And it's completely rooted in the concept that she knows what she's talking about, even though her only evidence is that she can read Clown. (the only other moment being that she was right the empire would betray them in the End. Which was the softest of softball throws. It was an allyship against the other team. Obv the beef starts up the second that is over.) Like congrats. You've known Clown for two years very closely. It would be weird if you didn't. And on THAT note,

She called Woogie a dipshit for having his own opinions about Clown based on his interactions with him for the past FIVE whole seasons. THREE YEARS.

She took his words as saying that you shouldn't trust Clown instead of what he was really trying to say, which was we as a team should not trust Clown. Kab knows Clown won't kill her but she just fails to understand that other people have their own valid experiences of the members. She's just so focused on her singular view of people and how they will interact with her that she completely misses the opportunity to learn what other people think of other people without it being an attack on her own opinion.

I know I get on here and analyze everyone to death. I know that that's how I love to watch and enjoy lifesteal. And that not everyone observes the lifestealers like bugs to be pinned down and dissected. Watching vods is a listening-only experience. I cannot talk or add to the convo, right?

But it still boggles my mind that she doesn't see the manipulative value in silently listening to every word that comes out of someone's mouth in order to learn what they think about others. And let that tell you what to think about others.

If she just listened to what people said, especially what they say about people she doesn't understand, she would learn SO much.

Like she completely called Woogie an idiot for wanting to ally with the Empire for the purpose of killing Clown Mane and Flame.

And she said it because she doesn't understand how Mapicc and Spoke think.

And because she doesn't understand them, she thinks Woogie doesn't understand them.

Like I know Woogie isn't always the most active and integrated member, and he's also an unreliable narrator and has assumptions rooted in a subjective path just like she does.

But Woogie AND Mapicc AND Spoke have all been playing on this server since Season ONE. You would think that that would be an excellent learning opportunity to ask Woogie how he views Mapicc and Spoke.

And then from there, sure! Take it with a grain of salt. Take your personal experiences with them as the most important opinion to value for your own safety (bc nobody can tell you what your gut says) but then also take their opinion and use it against them if you want to be such a great manipulator. Or at the very least catalogue their opinion away for further study at a future time.

It's just. She just has her assumptions about herself towards every member and completely and totally discounts what anyone has to say about their assumptions of themselves with other members. And she gets so damn triggered by people saying they have more experience than her, thinking it's a personal attack on her intelligence. Where that comes from I cannot know but that sounds incredibly deeply rooted.

So back to the Bacon conversation.

She said she knew people would watch it and said stuff on purpose.

And yet she completely left in the whole scene about lying to Woogie about being sorry for discounting his opinion. “Sometimes you need to be sopping wet for people to trust you chat”

Everyone on lifesteal is going to watch this video. WOOGIE might watch this video (though I have a feeling he won't tbh) and you're just leaving in that when you apologize you are never sincere about it and are 100% using that to manipulate them later.

INSANE to leave that in. You leave that in the drawing board. You keep that shit hidden. ESPECIALLY if you know your enemies will watch it. Girl was the most open book ever.

And then to end the video saying I'm a liar and manipulator bitch I know what I'm talking about. Insane. You are just BROADCASTING that you should never be trusted ever. (for the second video in a row!)

Also in a video about you desperately trying to prove that you should be trusted. It's two different kinds of trust, funny that we use the same word for both.

Trusted in that you tell the truth vs trusted that you know what you're talking about.

I am so interested to know what Bacon thought of that. What will he think if she does apologize now? He's not dumb. He saw the video.

She just thinks she's playing 4D chess. And yet 4D chess would be being silent and listening to what everyone says. Like how Spokes does. and Clown. No talking, just silently listening in vc's and coming to conclusions about the members.

And Bacon too. He's been asking people so many questions about what they're doing and why and then just listening to what they have to say, and then forming his own conclusion about it and going off to try something. He's becoming great at listening and thinking and this whole little arc was founded on using that information to do something interesting on the server.

Though I suppose he wasn't always that good at it. And therefore the final conclusion you can take is the same every time: Kab needs experience in order to gain experience. And it will be a long and painful process.

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

I genuinely hate how mainstream fandom and fanfic has gotten. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda nice not to feel like I have to hide everything that I read, except now I have to hide what exactly it is that I am reading bc I can say "fanfic" but I can't say it's a dd:dne hurt/comfort fic where character a gets tortured for 10 chapters and gets love and affection for another 5 because I would get absolutely blasted for it by the puritans. I have to hide the freedom to admit I like fanfic, but not what I like to read.

I saw someone who said you shouldn't read/write about non-canon ship. Like... the whole thing fanfic was made for??? I used to ship Jack Frost from Pixar's Rise of the Guardians with Elsa from Disney's Frozen, and now you are trying to tell me I can't ship Zutara because they don't end up together in canon???

Back in my day, Rise of the Brave Tangled Frozen Dragons was all one fandom. Kids these days need a three page essay on why this non-canon ship is actually technically canon in order to ship it. Back in MY day, we shipped Draco Malfoy with a goddamn apple! People these days can't even take a joke!!

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; back 2 u (part two)

you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime

this is part two of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!

fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au

...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3

word count: 3.1k

warnings: cursing, alcohol mention/usage, reader is drunk (So is Riwoo), overthinking and insecurity, mentions of fwb/unprotected sex, leehan is lowkey a dick, suggestive comments but nothing too crazy imo

a/n: gongfourz for cover pic bc.... MY MAN IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! also bc they look tew damn fine for me not to use this pic sry

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

Sungho and Riwoo led the way to the house, having been there on countless occasions. The excitement rushing through you is undeniable— It’s not that you aren’t used to going to parties, but you’ve never really had much of a reason to be feeling so…Full of adrenaline. As in, you’ve never had Han Taesan personally invite you to one of his on a random Thursday afternoon.

The scene in front of you is so stereotypically movie-like: Music blaring from speakers placed around the room, air stuffy from the sheer amount of people packed in a small place, concerningly sticky floor from (hopefully) spilled drinks, and the never-ending movement of bodies dancing against each other. The door is opened by a tall man, brunette hair falling almost-too-perfectly in front of his eyes as he greets your friends upon entering.

You’ve never met him personally before, but you recall having him in one of your past classes. Kim Leehan: Taesan’s roommate who ironically shares a similar reputation— a set of unforgettable good looks that’s known to do everything except commit. You feel his gaze follow you up and down as you follow closely behind Sungho, his sharp eyes intimidating you. “Who’s this pretty ‘lil thing you bought with you?” Leehan questions. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

Leehan closes the door behind you as you walk in, placing his arm above your head as he leans in to get a closer look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Surely, you have some idea of who I am if you’re standing in front of me like this.” He winks, waiting for you to respond. Witnessing your interesting first interaction, Riwoo chuckles and pushes Leehan away from you. 

“Jeez, Leehan, do you hit on everyone who walks through these doors? You’re gonna scare the poor girl,” Riwoo puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. “This is our dear Y/N!~ Sungho and I are going to be with her the whole night, so don’t try anything weird.” You know Riwoo is only half-joking, especially since the two of you are well aware of his notoriety amongst the other girls on campus, but you’re thankful he designates both himself and his roommate as your party buddies for the night.

“Ah, so this is Y/N… About time you came, then.” Leehan, now a respectable distance away from you, motions over to the alcohol in the corner. “Why don’t you two show her around our humble abode?And get some drinks while you’re at it, 'kay?”

He pushes the three of you in the direction of the kitchen, where people are crowding around for refills to their red solo cups. Sungho hands you a plastic cup, full of a liquid that you can’t exactly tell the color of because of the flickering LED lights above you. Soon after you’ve all finished your first (maybe second… and third…) rounds of drinks, you find yourself being dragged to what looks like the main area for dancing. 

Half-empty beverage in hand, you laugh as you dance along to the beat with the comfort of your trusted friends beside you. It was actually… really good music, especially for a college party. In the past, you and your friends have had to leave parties solely because the music was shitty, so you’re happy that isn’t the case tonight. Riwoo finds himself in the middle of the dance circle, absolutely loving the attention he’s currently getting from the people around him. Sungho bursts out laughing at the situation, and you quickly join him as you watch your friend dance.

Just as you bring your drink up to your lips to take another swig from it, you feel a cold pair of hands wrap around your waist. Startled and ready to yell at whoever’s currently invading your personal space, you turn your head to look at who the hands belong to— only to find yourself face to face with one of the few familiar faces in the house tonight. “You came,” Taesan’s breath is hot against your ear, making sure you can hear him amidst all the noise. His hands on your hips pull you closer to his body, and you swear there’s sparks where his skin meets yours. “I knew you would come see me. You look great.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink (or maybe you’re just using that as an excuse), but you boldly wrap your arms around the back of Taesan’s head once you turn around properly, creating an oddly intimate scene between you two as your bodies sway to the music. He’s more than happy to comply, mesmerized at the way you feel against him. “Taesanie…” Your words are slurred as you inch closer to his face, pushing yourself up by your tippy-toes.

“Thought I told you to call me Dongmin,” His tone is playful as he looks down on you, still shorter than him despite your attempts to reach his impressive height. “Something wrong, angel?” 

“Mmph, sorry... Dongminie…” Even in your drunken state, you maintain your eye contact with the man in front of you. Taesan suddenly finds himself flustered, shocked that he is the one to break it, looking away momentarily but keeping you steady against him. “Would you be mad if I said I really wanted to kiss you right now?” This isn’t something you’d normally say, but the effects of the alcohol and Taesan’s hands on your body fill you with confidence. 

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind, but… You’re drunk,” As much as Taesan also really wanted to kiss you, the last thing he’d want is to make any moves on you while you weren’t thinking straight. “Can’t wait ‘til you’re sober?” He sends you a cheeky grin. It’s amazing how he still manages to find a way to maintain his composure to tease you, even after you’d shamelessly confessed your desires.

“I can’t kiss you, Dongmin?” Out of nowhere, you grab his face with your hands, pouting at the denial of your request. “Why not?” Your actions paired with your words make Taesan’s heart race, everyone else around him suddenly vanishing; the only thing he has on his mind is you. He couldn’t tell you how much time has passed at this point, but he can’t stop looking at your lips.

“How much did you have to drink tonight?” His question is genuine and full of concern, once again making you rethink the rumors about him amidst your drunken haze. Something in you doesn’t want to accept the idea that the boy holding you so close is the type of person to break hearts so carelessly. 

“I can’t remember,” The hands on his face fall back down to their original place behind the back of his neck as you rest your head on his chest. “I don’t know what you want from me, then.” Your voice is small now, the combination of music and voices from the nearby partygoers making it hard for him to hear you. It felt weird to think that he’d reject the advances of someone coming onto him so strongly. You can’t deny that you’re disappointed, perhaps even slightly hurt, especially after showing up to the party fully expecting to wake up in Han Taesan’s bed the morning after. 

All of a sudden, the lights are making your head hurt, it’s feeling entirely too stuffy in there, and the outfit you’re wearing makes you want to rip off your skin. This is ridiculous. Why’re you so upset at being turned down? Now, you’re almost certain it’s the alcohol that’s making you feel this way when you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. Sensing something wrong, Taesan pulls you away from his chest, hand reaching down to your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes widen once he notices your tears threatening to spill, clearly shocked to see your sudden change in mood. 

“Hey, hey.. What’s wrong?” You pull your face out of his grasp, hating the vulnerability you’re currently feeling. It’s hard to maneuver away from him with the amount of people surrounding you; Taesan only pulls you closer when you don’t say anything. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, pretty. Don’t want you crying under my watch, now.” 

Even in your current state, you feel your heart flutter at his comment. Either Han Taesan is madly in love with you, or this is just his insane charm working its magic. Probably the latter. “Can we go somewhere else?” Your voice shakes as you speak— you're not even sure where you were asking him to go, but you didn’t want to be stuck in the center of the party a second longer. “Just… anywhere? Please?” 

Taesan takes your hand in his, using his free arm to shove through the crowd. The grip on your hand is tight; he doesn’t want to lose you. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you’re not in the right mindset to want to question it any further. “Taesan, there you are!” The two of you are forced to stop temporarily after being called out by his roommate. He’s leaning against a wall with a beer in hand and a beautiful woman practically wrapped around his arm. Leehan whistles at Taesan once he notices your interlocked fingers. “Looks like you finally found her. Use protection this time, yeah?” He smirks, making the girl he’s currently with giggle at his side as she peers at the you two, making it feel like she's judging you. 

The vulgar implications of Leehan’s comment followed by their snickering makes your face heat up. You feel… Gross. “Not the fucking time.” Taesan pushes past him in annoyance before bringing you to the entrance of what you assume to be his room. The change in environment seems to calm you down immediately. The door closes behind you with a gentle click, drowning out all the noise coming from behind it. It’s significantly cooler there than it was out in the main living area, giving you the chance to breathe properly and actually hear yourself think.

Taesan walks over to the corner of his room to turn on a lamp; a warm glow fills the area and allows you to properly take in its contents. It was obvious now to see that the space was without a doubt his— various band posters pasted haphazardly on the walls, clothes rack organized neatly by the door, and queen-sized bed made to perfection in the middle of the floor. “Uh, you can sit there, if you want. It’s comfier than sitting on the floor or something,” He points to the bed with his eyes, grabbing a bottle of water from the table beside the lamp he’d just turned on. 

You trip on your own feet slightly as you walk over to the bed, startling him slightly as he moves to help you sit. A newly-opened bottle of water is placed in your empty hands as you take a seat, which you gratefully take a much-needed drink from. The feeling in the room is awkward as you avoid his eye contact, finding the cute plushie laying on his pillows more interesting than the man in front of you. 

You’re playing with the plastic label on the bottle as you hear him clear his throat, prompting you to finally look at him for the first time since entering his room. “Thanks for bringing me here, and uh, the water.” The tension in the room slowly begins to sober you up as you’re the one to break the silence. “Sorry about all this. I think I just got a little overwhelmed out there, that's all.”

“Come on baby, don’t apologize. It’s all good, okay?” There he goes again with the pet names. “If this ever happens again at one of our parties, just find me, and I’ll take you back here." Yeah, if you muster up the courage to show your face at one of these ever again. You don’t think you’re capable of coming back to this house if it means you need to live through that whirlwind of emotions every time. You can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but you don’t care to check it. 

1 new message from “Y/N’s bodyguards ♡”! Sungho: where are u Y/N?? party’s pretty much over now

“And disregard what that dumbass said earlier,” He’s talking about Leehan, letting out a frustrated scoff replaying the brief interaction in his head. “I wasn’t, er…” Taesan’s struggling to find an appropriate way to word what he’s trying to say. “...Planning? On doing that with you tonight.” 

Your hands fidget in your lap, feeling a bit insecure now. What are you supposed to say to someone who just said they wouldn’t have sex with you? “Oh, uh… Yeah, I get it.” You almost want to laugh out loud to cope with how uncomfortable your conversation currently is.

Taesan notices the discomfort on your face after realizing what his words might imply to you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like… I'd never want to hook up, but…” He’s stumbling over his own words as he rambles on. It’s oddly endearing to see him so flustered, a complete 180 from his usual calm, collected demeanor.  “Y/N, I think you’re attractive, like, seriously hot. But shit gets messy when there’s alcohol involved, and I didn’t want to make a move if you didn’t really want to… But I swear I would’ve kissed you right then and there if—” 

There’s a knock on the door behind him, and Taesan mentally thanks the universe for saving him from the hole he just dug himself into. “Y/N, are you in there?” Although muffled, you’re quick to recognize Sungho’s voice. “Leehan told us Taesan brought you to his room… So uh, just… Finish up whatever you’re doing and come out when you’re done, I guess?” Your cheeks redden at your friend's suggestive words. Oh god. He definitely thinks Taesan brought you in here to fuck. 

Taesan also finds himself embarrassed, even more so than he already was at his poor recovery seconds ago, quickly moving to open the door to reveal your two friends standing behind it. You smile sheepishly at them as you grab your water bottle and make your way towards the door, feeling completely sober at this point. Riwoo and Sungho quickly glance back and forth between you and Taesan, letting out a small breath of relief once seeing that seemingly nothing too bad happened while you were in there. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for leaving you all alone out there!” Riwoo engulfs you in a huge embrace, very obviously still drunk. “I promise, like really pinky promise, I won’t let you out of my sight next time!” 

“Alright you big baby, we need to go home.” Sungho pries your mutual friend off of you, patting him on the head once he successfully pulls him away. “You didn’t see any of our texts Y/N?” You send him a confused look, reaching into your pocket to find your phone, only to be greeted with a series of notifications upon unlocking it. 

8 unread messages from “Y/N’s bodyguards ♡”! [11:43] Riwoo: Y/N WE LSOT YOU I’M SO SSORRY [11:44] Riwoo: SUNGHO IS YELLIGN AT ME RN FOR MAKING THE DANCE CIRCLE TOO BIG 🙁…. my bad for being TOO good ig… [11:47] Sungho: YES bc Y/N and I got SEPARATED and look where we are NOW  [11:47] Sungho: you’re an adult so…. i trust you Y/N [11:50] Sungho: BUT text us if u need anything or if you want to go home  [11:51] Sungho: phone is on vibrate, i’ll feel it in my pocket [12:02] Riwoo: YA IAM READY TO LEAVE WHENEVER YOUU ARE OKAY I LVOE   YOU Y/NNNNNN BE SAFE  [1:35] Sungho: where are u Y/N?? party’s pretty much over now

“Ah… I guess I didn’t notice my phone going off earlier.” It’s only a partial lie, you knew you ignored his most recent message, but the rest of them were sent while you were too preoccupied with grinding back against Han Taesan on the dance floor; It’s only reasonable to think you weren’t going to check your phone then. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention,” Your gaze flickers to Taesan briefly, who’s still holding the door open as you explain to Sungho. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t worry you guys too much.” 

“Don’t worry, she was with me.” Taesan unexpectedly chimes in to the conversation from next to you. “As long as Y/N’s okay, right?” 

Looking past the doorway, you were shocked to see that the party actually was over. The previously crowded space was close to empty now, only a handful of partygoers lingering around the room. Looks like you lost track of time... How long were you with Taesan? Sungho’s holding Riwoo onto his shoulder as they begin staggering to the front door, you and Taesan trailing closely behind in silence. 

The awkward air between you two was short lived, however, as Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms, similar to how you were earlier in the night. Your back is against his chest as he rests his chin atop your head, hugging you from behind. “Sorry for sounding like a douchebag in my room earlier. I really do think you’re gorgeous, though.” He twirls you around, taking your hand in his once more as he walks you to the door.

The brisk air from outside makes you shiver, your arms immediately wrapping around your torso. You didn’t notice how cold it was while the three of you were walking there, the alcohol from the pregame warming you up too much to feel the chill in the first place. Riwoo and Sungho are already a couple feet out the door, bickering over what kind of food they should pick up on the way back to the apartment. 

In front of you, Taesan shrugs the jacket he was wearing off his back, placing it around your shoulders. The sweet gesture alone makes you heat up; you’re thankful that even after everything that’s happened between you guys tonight, he’s a gentleman. “Thanks, Dongmin.” 

He waves his hand in front of him, as if to tell you it was no big deal. “My clothes look good on you, Y/N.” The hand he places on the side of your face is gentle as he brings your lips to his, giving you a short kiss. “That’s all you get for now. You’ll just have to wait ‘til next time to kiss me properly, hm?”

tags: @minwrlds @luna2nite @taesancore @cherrytaesan @helpsplease @taylorluvation @serejae @dimplewonie @nikiismyhb (send an ask or comment to be added!)

a/n: literally the longest thing i’ve ever written thus far sorry if there’s mistakes LMFAO i’m def editing it after i posted ... AWWWKKKK

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[centralkvetchmonolith]

Hey hot take but TSwift does NOT make good music. I listened to 1989 all the way through and every song was soooooo mid, or even in cringe territory.

I wanna be clear that this is NOT heterophobia; I found her writing about (straight female) attraction to (white cis) men to be some of the most compelling on the album!! It transported me to another point of view!

Of the singles, "Blank Space" was genuinely enjoyable (though the production suffered in the context of all the other music on the album, bc I could really see the patterns she gets stuck in musically — it *only* really works as a single), and "Shake It Off" was maybe 10% worse than I remembered (which was already bad).

But yeah, we GET it, you wear red lipstick and like to repeat lyrics while going "hey! hey!" at exactly the same pitch in like EVERY song. There's a difference between having motifs and trying to milk a whole album out of MAYBE three songs of material.

Also! This is not misogyny or a hatred of pop! Carly Rae Jepsen has a similar bubbliness to what it seemed like Swift was going for on 1989, and E•MO•TION is one of the best white-girl-pop albums of all time! Olivia Rodrigo idolizes Swift and reuses phrases all the time, but GUTS managed to have both variety AND cohesion while delivering a bevy of messy-bitch bangers! Why search for lesbian chthonotext when Chappell Roan's The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is right there, two generations down in the Taylorverse?!

Anyway I'm interested in people's thoughts on this, incl. TSwift apologia, but only if you read this far before posting (include a paella emoji 🥘 if yr not just Swiftiebrigading)

[roachspeaks]

this is my first time requesting for a writing prompt so i apologize if i have a hard time describing it, but may i request nsfw (and maybe sfw) head canons of jason todd with a s/o thats a very violent vigilante but is very overly attached to jason

Omg yes, I’ve been wanting to find something Jason Todd to write for a while 😂

Jason Todd x Vigilante!reader sfw and nsfw head cannons

Warnings: smut, mentions of past trauma(bc it’s Jason Todd), reader is a vigilante with a violent streak, swearing, gn!reader, I took it in a very yandere-ish direction

(More detailed warnings before the nsfw part)

Sfw

Jason is shocked to come back to life and find there’s already another blood thirsty vigilante running the streets of Gotham, he just has to meet you.

And when he does he’s a little less surprised to find that you remind him exactly of himself. Vengeful and trying to keep justice in a more ‘efficient’ way than Batman ever could.

You notice him more around you in underground bars like the iceberg lounge, always trailing just a little behind you.

You think you’ve got a stalker, and you’re partially right.

His interest in you quickly turns into a crush one night when you grab him by his collar and demand to know why he’s been following you.

So he tells you, he’s always been an honest guy, never caring enough to bother lying or covering up what he really felt. Usually, that is.

As soon as you agree to be something with him, he’s almost a different person. Though it takes a while to break through that confident, cocky exterior he likes to front.

Soon enough though, you get to see the Jason that cares for his brothers, the Jason that’s a book nerd, the Jason that is deathly afraid of being a failure to the people he loves the most.

You soon discover he’s not all he pretends to be, and sometimes all he wants in the whole world is a few moments of peace with the person he cares for most in this world(you).

Often times(if you work a day job or do vigilante stuff in the day) you’ll find you always arrive later then you had before meeting him. He has a tendency to hold on to you and not let go in the morning.

Jason tries to hold out on you meeting his family for as long as he possibly can, especially Dick. He sees Dick as the highest standard, what he failed to be as robin. He (irrationally) fears like you’d leave him for his elder brother.

When you finally meet the rest of the bat family, they’re all just happy he’s found someone who loves him, and who he’ll actually let in.

You don’t know it, but as soon as you spend a night in his bed(or let him spend the night in yours) he’s already thinking about marrying you.

Maybe not in an official, traditional wedding way, but he’d put a ring on your finger just so he got to show everyone just how serious he is about you.

The intimacy of sleeping next to someone, the trust that they won’t stab you in your sleep(especially given your bloody history) is something Jason doesn’t take lightly.

If you like reading, he’ll recommend you books of all kinds. He’s had a lot of time to think and reflect on himself, most of which he had a book in his hands.

Speaking of hands, his are extremely rough and calloused. Years of scarring etched beautifully into his skin. He isn’t insecure exactly, he knows it shows he’s a survivor. How strong he is. But when his rough hands are on your skin he can’t help but feel like he’s too broken for you.

He isn’t easily consolable. He’s good at pretending your assurances worked as you’d planned, then overthinking the issue the rest of the day. But you quickly learn his tells, and call him out for it. To which he’s surprised at first, but just a little more in love with you.

He isn’t good at saying the words ‘I love you’. Not at first. He’s scared that once he lets those three words slip from his lips that you’ll be taken away from him.

When he does finally get used to saying it, it will be rare that he doesn’t say it during a conversation with you.

When he’s leaving for a patrol, you receive a kiss on the cheek, or even a deep and telling kiss on the lips, and a quick “I love you, see you tonight.” Before he’s out the door.

Or just before you fall asleep, you’ll get a passionate string of beautifully picked out words that Jason would never admit while fully awake.

When he’s been on missions that take him to other cities, he can’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Without your steady breathing soothing him to sleep. It gets to the point that there was a time when his phone ran out of battery, and he awoke immediately in a cold sweat. Forgetting he wasn’t next to you. He came home the next day. Unable to stand the thought of not being able to see you, to hold you.

Now in terms of you being overly attached to him, he wouldn’t say he ‘minds’ exactly.

He doesn’t want you to get hurt if something ever happens to him. He reminds you all the time that he can quite literally die almost every night. To which you shrug off. Making him laugh every time.

If you’re clinging onto him physically, he doesn’t mind at all. He loves your warmth and the pressure of your body against his. Especially if your on top of him. The weight of you on his chest gives him so much comfort it’s surreal.

Nsfw

Warnings: smut(obvi), mentions of rough sex, gn!reader and gn!body terms, heavy degradation, praise though too(separate),

He leans into being more dominant in bed. He likes the control and the ability to help you feel good.

He can be extremely rough if he’s had a stressful day. Railing into you with your legs hooked tightly over his shoulders. His hands on your waist. Squeezing the soft flesh while he chases both of your releases.

His words degrading and harsh. “Hey? Who owns this body huh? Spit it out slut.”

Sometimes he’ll edge you for hours while he gets himself off, painting your chest and face in his hot sticky cum.

But on the other side of the spectrum he can be very gentle if it’s appropriate. If it’s an intimate moment he has no trouble peppering kisses all over your beautiful body. Praising you until you can barely think.

“So good, so fucking beautiful for me yeah?”

He’s all for breathy whispers, whispering in your ear what he wants you to do. How he’s gonna make you cry his name from the pleasure.

He loves giving you head. But particularly taking it excruciatingly slow. Paying attention to every detail. Every expression or sound you make when he touches certain spots with his tongue.

Also being a Vigilante, you have scars yourself. Physical and emotional. He kisses all of them. Tells you how strong and gorgeous every one makes you look. How absolutely perfect he thinks you are.

Sometimes things slip out while you’re going at it. Words he never intended for anyone to hear. But he just gets so caught up in the moment, he can’t help himself.

“Want me to put a ring on your finger yeah? Want me to make you my pretty (wife/husband)”

I think for awhile after he came back he used sex as a way to cope, experimenting with his body and trying things he’d never thought to try before. It worked well enough for a little while, allowed him to take out his energy in a much needed outlet.

He was tortured and kidnapped when he was still a teenager, sometimes he needs to express that anger and resentment in a healthy scenario. Sex is a free, safe, and easy way to do so.

He insists on practicing safe words with you, sometimes even he needs to opt out for a water break or something like that.

After the fact, he’s extremely sweet on you. Cleaning you up however you need. Whether it’s with a wet cloth, a warm bath, or with his tongue.

He likes to hold you in the afterglow of sex, chests heaving, skin glazed over in sweat. He pulls you close against his chest, a hand on your thigh, holding you as close as he can get you. Whispering sweet praises.

“You did so well my love, so good for me.”

Hope you enjoyed this, I’m working on more requests at the moment 😘

[luckybunny555]

Secret admirer

You make the final choice in relation to your secret admirer after the revelation of their motivations.

Amber Freeman x GN!/Fem!Reader(no pronouns but for sapphics)

Warnings: creepy behavior, stalking, cursing, usual Ghostface behavior, a little bit of trust issues, being "attacked" but not harmed, mentions of murder and violence(no big description tho), a little suggestive in the end(as a treat ;) )

a/n: Part 3. I didn't proof-read it. I had to divide it three parts bc I thought it was still too long, so this is the last and shortest one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You close your eyes, trying to make sense of everything and calm your mind, that was still taking in her whole monologue. You regain awareness of your body, finally noticing the hand on your hip. The sensation clouded your thoughts again. You open your eyes, feeling her breath mingling with yours. With a deep exhale, you finally speak, "Wait, so..." you start, sounding a bit breathless and confused, "you sent me all those letters? And you attacked Tara, and killed that guy? I don't get it, why did you do all of this?" If her goal was to make you a little scared, there was a whole collection of horror movies waiting for the two of you.

"Because it wasn't enough," she explained with passion, trying to get you to understand her, the side of her that was still new to you. "I needed you closer. I needed you to need me. And only me. Not Tara, not Mindy, or Wes, or Chad," with that, you understand the first attack. She noticed you were getting closer to Tara, but she couldn't go all the way, or you wouldn't forgive her. Or be scared of her, instead of looking for her to protect you. That's not what she wanted. She just had to show you Tara was vulnerable, and couldn't keep you safe like she could.

"And come one, didn't you enjoy it? My gifts, my letters, even the creepy ones?" She asks you with that wicked, charming smirk imprinted on her face again.

"I stopped answering you because I was scared," you emphasize your words. "Because I knew someone was watching me, and I was worried I'd get hurt, or kidnapped or worse," your tone escalates, and your gaze is locked on hers.

"Because you didn't know it was me! But now you do," that smirk won't leave her face, and curse you for your taste, because you love the way she looks right now. "Do you really hate that I was the one keeping an eye on you? That I knew you so fucking well, maybe even better than you know yourself, that I gave you exactly what you wanted and needed?" She asks, and you can tell it's a genuine question.

But you can't bring yourself to answer her, not without judging yourself for it. You know you shouldn't admit it. You know you shouldn't give her the satisfaction. But why would you lie? The anger had mostly passed, and you still loved her. And you didn't even hate it. It felt good, to love and to be loved by her. Most people would beg for an ounce of the effort she puts into you. Who else would kill someone to protect you? Who else would watch over you, and get you out of uncomfortable situations without hesitation, and stay up late to comfort you when you're scared, always being there for you? Who else would remember every single one of your favorite books and movies, listen to every word you say, and be this devoted to you? Who else would become a fucking serial killer just because they love you so much?

She laughs, clearly amused by your silent answer. "See? I'm right. You love it," She's so pleased with herself. You close your eyes in defeat, earning a giggle from the girl. "I know that..." she brings her free hand to your face, brushing your hair behind your ear with a careful, gentle touch. Everything about her was two opposites extremes, "because I know you," she smiles, tilting her head to the side. She carefully gets closer to you, her body softly pressing against yours. "C'mon, baby, just admit it."

You see no point in resisting her any longer. It might've been a sick way to get you, but she wasn't wrong: you loved it. From the mysterious letters to the depth of her devotion. And now that you knew it was her, you weren't so scared anymore. You never got hurt. On the contrary. Everything she had done only kept you safe. And it worked like a love spell, captivating you.

"You're insane," your eyes meet hers, and she once again pretends to be offended by your comment. "But I love you," you confess in surrender, making her smile grow wider. She is clearly pleased with the answer she earned from you. "Can you drop the knife now?" The tension in your body gradually dissipates.

She chuckles, dropping the weapon to the floor. She might be the one in control, but she depends on you. To you, she's harmless.

Hesitantly, you bring your hands up, placing them on the nape of her neck. Your eyes are still locked, and this time, your heart races for a good reason. Her expression is softer, satisfied, yet with a remaining trace of venom. Just how you like it. "You're not gonna hurt me, right?" You had enough proof, but you wanted her to admit it again. She loved the way you sounded sweet and vulnerable.

"Never, baby," her voice is tinged with tenderness, and she places a kiss at the top of your cheek, her hands finding your waist. "Not unless you want me to," she adds, teasing you. With the terror melting away, you finally let out a soft laugh. Amber's attention is focused on your smile, and you notice that.

Gently, you bring her face closer, taking your time to connect your lips. Impatiently, she leans closer, kissing you as her hands pull your body against hers. She smiles against your lips, satisfied for finally getting what she wanted for so long. And you reciprocate it.

The two of you get lost in the moment, her lips staining with passion and satisfaction the memories of the scary scene she just made you experience. Now that you know the source of your fears is Amber, you can enjoy the frightening and exhilarating sensations that come with that. This might be what it feels like to enjoy horror movies, but better. Because right now, you could feel her lips on yours. You feel her hands on your lower back and hip, yours entangled in her hair, and your bodies pressing against each other. You never expected your night to turn out like that, especially not when you were crying for your life just a few minutes ago. But wasn't it worth it?

All the desires and feelings you bottled up for so long were finally spilling out, clear in the way your intensity increased. Amber took that as a silent confirmation of your craving for her, the delight of the achievement consuming her. Knowing how much you wanted, and needed her, filled her with a sense of accomplishment. And she was determined to keep that feeling alive.

Momentarily breaking the kiss, her lips trail down to your jawline. Your left hand grips her arm, pulling her even closer as you giggle in satisfaction. You can feel her smile on your skin, your reaction to her kisses pleasing her, as she continues to leave kisses on your jawline, slowly reaching your neck.

Snapping you out of your trance, the sound of your phone ringing causes Amber to groan, displeased with the unfortunate interruption. She moves away from your neck, scanning your expression. "This time it's not me," she teases, feigning innocence.

You playfully scoff, reluctantly pulling away from her and leaning down to grab your phone, that was still on the floor. It was your mom. Amber attentively observes you as you pick up the call.

"Mom?" mindlessly heading to the kitchen, you wonder why she was calling you.

"Hi, sweety," the familiar voice speaks on the phone. "Did you get home safe? Is everything alright? I didn't want to leave you alone, but I had that meeting, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

You look over your shoulder at Amber, who was picking up her mask and knife from the floor. "Uhm, yeah, everything's fine," Amber looks at you with curiosity and a hint of gratefulness. "Amber's here," you catch the girl's attention again, "I didn't wanna be alone so I asked her to come over. Can she stay for dinner?" Your request earns a smile from Amber as she walks towards you, placing her items on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, she's there? Of course, sweetheart, I'll get home soon," your mom sounds pleased with the idea. Obviously because she doesn't know the whole story. But she wouldn't get it. "Amber's a good girl, I like her," she adds.

Her words make you chuckle, and Amber, overhearing the conversation, tilts her head to the side in amusement. "I also think that," you smile, playfully teasing the girl in front of you, despite the truth in your statement.

Once the call ends, Amber can't hide the satisfaction on her face. "I'm a good girl?" she continues to tease you, making you giggle.

"Amber, don't start," you don't resist the urge, kissing her once more. "You better hide this whole costume or you'll lose your nice reputation with my mom," Amber nods, pretending to be concerned.

You look at the box she sent you earlier, then look at her with a pout and annoyed expression, "I can't believe you cut my favorite plushie's head off. That's cruel."

She gives you a mockingly apologetic look, "don't worry, babe, I'll fix it."

The both of you put away the props from Amber's staged attack, hiding the traces of Ghostface's appearance. You would never give away her identity, not now that you knew you had Ghostface infatuated with you. In return, you mentally vowed to protect Amber too, in your own way. With that, she maintained her cool and careless attitude around your friends, her sweet and caring image around your family, and her obsessive, devoted and endlessly loving demeanor with you, and you only.

[running-swimming-living]

Today was a good day. Almost a perfect day.

I woke up at 6 am to walk Gus but he was reticent bc it was dark and cold. So we went home and I went for a swim. I got the whole pool to myself.

I came home and rested then walked Gus at an appropriate time of 9 am. Then I got ready to go bowling. I wanted to show up to the event a bit early bc I didn’t want them to leave without me. Turns out they were doing construction and I ended up showing up exactly on time.

We all headed over to the bowling alley. We had three lanes booked for 2 hours. We only ended up needing two. So we doubled up and played two bowling games on two different lanes at the same time with the same people. I started out patchy but once I got comfortable i started having a lot of success.

Came home and had Red Robin for dinner. Fish and chips. They messed up my order and I had to go back to the restaurant to get it right. I had ordered a pick up.

Now I’m just gonna read while a storm works its way through the area.

[thewistlingbadger]

The reason why people hate Silco actually doesn't have to anything with his crimes or the way he treats others. It actually has everything to do with the way the show is structured.

If you think this sounds far fetched, I just want you to stick with me on this and read this post with an open mind bc genuinely I think it's really important. Lots of people do dislike him bc of his actions and his relationship with Jinx, but I'm going to argue those reasons aren't the main/true reasons for the silco hate. To do so, I must highlight some very important points about arcane.

1. The show is about CHANGE.

Everything in Arcane is always changing. The setting, the music genres, the designs, the styles, the storylines, the characters, their relationships- everything is constantly changing in this show. Change is what is what drives the show on every single level. Change is why Arcane makes us emotional and passionate, because as humans we dont like change, and the show is always changing at exact the right/wrong moments.

2. There's two kinds of change

For the simplicity of the argument, we're going to talk about major change and minor change. Major change will be defined as a change that COMPELETLY changes the character's identity. Minor change will be defined as a change that only changes a PART of the character's identity. In Arcane, some characters only go through minor changes, some only go through major changes, and some characters go through both during the show's course. An example of a major change would be Jinx. She starts the show was a meek, innocent, screw-up and later completely transforms to a lethal, broken person. Her character completely changes. An example of a minor change can be seen in Viktor. First he believes that the hexcore is good and can be used to save himself. By the end of season he's seen the harm it can cause and is hellbent on destroying it. This is a minor change because while he does change, he doesn't completely change. He only changes in a minor way.

3. Setting the stage

In order to measure change, you must have a starting point. You can't know how much someone or something has changed if you don't see where it started. For this reason, Arcane season 1 opened the majority of its episodes with flashback cold opens. At some point in the first season, we see all of our main characters years before the show starts. It's important to show this so the audience can better understand the characters. Viktor's running scene hits hard because we say him trying and failing to out run the toy boat as a child. Vi's hate for topside and enforcers is completely understood because we literally see them kill her parents an incite violence on her people.

4. We don't like you

Because the show focuses on change so much and because we're so exposed to it, we tend to oppose the things that DON'T change in the show. The majority of the fans side with Zaun because we've seen time and time again that they refuse to change their ways despite the harm they're causing. Marcus and Heimerdinger are two of the most unliked characters in season 1 because they don't change. Marcus starts the show as a selfish asshole cop and that's how he dies. Heimerdinger's whole thing is that he's IMMORTAL. He's literally not changing no matter how much time passes, and it's because of this that we feel for Jayce and Viktor and don't feel for Heimerdinger, even when he loses his council seat.

Okay, so we've talked about all of these now. What the hell does this has to do with Silco?

Well, lets look at what we talked about in conjunction with Silco.

Silco only really goes through one change in the show and it's a minor change. He starts the show willing to risk ANYTHING to get his Nation of Zaun and by the end he comes to the conclusion that he's no longer to willing to risk anything for Zaun. This is a pivotal change for him, but it isn't exactly a big one. Silco started the show as a violent, radical, antagonist and he dies being all three of those things. So no major changes here. And when we look into his minor change, it truly isn't that big because had Jayce asked him for anything else, literally anything else, Silco would have gave it to him. He's basically willing to do anything, minus one thing. One. singular. thing. That is so important to him.

2. Silco got a flashback scene like everyone else, but his flashback wasn't highlighting the change in Silco's character. It was highlighting the change in his relationship with Vander. In his flashback, Silco is unhinged, ragefully, and hostile in behavior as he delivers a smart monologue. This Silco is the same Silco we see later in the show, he doesn't change. He remains calculated, cunning, and heinous throughout the show. From the earliest point in his life that we see till we see his final breath.

3. The show has us programed to be opposed to those who are stagnant. Silco is stagnant. He does not change. In this regard, he's like Marcus. He's like Heimerdinger. And thus, since he's lacking change, we dislike him.

Just think about that for a moment. We literally never see Silco be anything different in the show. Even in the few moments he has were he's softer or weaker than normal, he's still the same guy. The fact that he's always been the same to us has led us to jump to conclusions about his character and his relationships based on limited evidence. We ALL assumed that the falling out between him and vander was his fault. We ALL assumed that he was this terrible guy even prior to the betrayal or vander. Because we never saw him change, we all though he couldn't change.

Isn't that a bit...sad? Like for us and for him. We genuinely have no idea who he was prior to Vander or prior to the betrayal. We all just assumed the worst from him because it was all we ever got to see. For all we know, the betrayal may have no even been his fault. For all we know, Vander could have been the fucked up one out of the two. We literally have no idea because we never see who he really was.

In a heart to heart he was with Jinx, he tells her "That day, I let a weak man die, and another was reborn." How right he was. We never get to see who this "weak man" was. Silco effectively did kill him.

[daimyosprincess]

SOME REX AND RELAXATION

—PAIRING: Rebels!Captain Rex x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

—WORD COUNT: 3.3k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, Rebels!Rex, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), Dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (bc I can’t help myself), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything! Mando'a translations are at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I miss Rex so this is getting posted today!!! After a rough week a bit ago, I started writing this as a comfort fic to make myself feel better and boy howdy, by the the end of it I was feeling way better 😈 Also: Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor deserve to live in comfy cottages in pastoral peace for the rest of their beautiful days. And I've decided that the clones age normally after the age of 25 so they have nice long lives ahead of them :)

This is my first ever Rex fic and I want to give a big shout out to my resident Rexpert @rexxdjarin for betaing this fic, I hope I did our captain justice 💙 Also thank you to @cloned-eyes for letting me use their amazing Rex art in my header!! That fresh out the shower Rex was some delicious inspo for this fic 🫠

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

The only thing worse than the day you’ve had was this week as a whole. Nothing had gone right with the New Republic school going up in town, and somehow the solution to several of those problems was what you’d said a week ago… but only when that bureaucratic sop from Coruscant said it. Not to mention the pipes burst in your apartment, you slipped down some stairs in front of a street full of people (with the worst bruise of your entire life to prove it), and to top it all off, you dropped your overpriced caf all over your shoes this morning.

Not a great week.

At this point, you’re only one minor inconvenience away from snapping—the fact that it’s the end of the work week is the only thing keeping you together. And, of course, your perfect, wonderful captain of a boyfriend, Rex. You’ve been staying at his farmhouse while repairs are made to the water lines that caused the damage at your place. 

He and his brothers, Gregor and Wolffe, had come to your quiet little agricultural planet a couple years ago and fixed up a few of the old houses at the edge town to live in. They mostly keep to themselves, but are always willing to lend a helping hand when it’s needed, whether it’s making repairs after the annual monsoon, donating fresh produce for school meals, or digging out flooded irrigation ditches. They are good men and the town accepts them as part of their own, even if Wolffe is a little grumpy and Gregor turns all the local women into giggling messes when he’s around.

The three of them are mending a fence on the far side of the property when you arrive at the farmstead. Usually you would have taken your speeder over for a chat, but you don’t think you have it in you after today. All you want to do is take off your bra and flop face-down on Rex’s couch to wait for the world to stop sucking—which is exactly how Rex finds you when he comes inside a few minutes later. 

“Another great day then, mesh’la?” he teases with the mirth of a man who already knows his question’s answer. His work boots make a thud on the stone tiles as he pulls them off.

Without looking up, you grunt a “no” into the cushions and shake your head.

“Do you want to come shower with me or do you need some alone time?”

“Alone time,” your muffled voice answers, “then Rex time. Lots and lots of Rex time.”

His warm chuckle and beard graze delightfully over the back of your neck as he bends to press a kiss to your hair. “Alright then, pretty girl. Just relax and I’ll be back to give you all the time in the world, okay?” You give him another muffled affirmative and he squeezes your calf affectionately before heading to the ‘fresher. 

Maker, he’s good to you. 

A year ago you would have never thought you’d find yourself in a long-term relationship with an ex-clone trooper who’s old enough to be your father, or that you would be calling said ex-clone trooper Daddy while he makes you see stars. The Force works in mysterious ways, you suppose… not that you’re complaining. Far from it. 

Your relationship with Rex might have come as a surprise but you’ve never been happier: things with him are as close to perfect as they can get. He cares for you, makes you feel so safe and loved and warm that you could melt into a puddle at his feet, and you adore him. He’s kind, strong, and compassionate, a good leader through and through. The galaxy has never made a finer man, and not to mention, a finer lover.

Eventually, you muster the strength to roll yourself off the couch and ditch your work clothes for your much more comfortable loungewear, deciding to forgo panties as a nice little surprise for your boyfriend. Snuggling under his covers that smell of him, you flip onto your stomach to scroll through your datapad. Efficient as always, Rex doesn’t make you wait long, the ‘fresher door sliding open a few minutes later. The comforting, woody smell of his soap fills your nose as you take in his broad frame glistening from his shower. 

Kark, he looks good. All broad shoulders and bronze skin, thick and perfect. How has no one made a statue of this man?

Noticing your interested stare, he winks as he hangs his towel on its hook. “Feeling better, mesh’la?”

You hum your delight and click off your tablet to give him your full attention. “Yeah, could be better, though,” you add with a sneaky smile.

“Oh yeah? How?” Flicking off the ‘fresher light, he starts towards you. The mischievous glint in your boyfriend’s eye is more than enough to get your blood pumping, especially combined with his shirtless upper half. 

You flip up the covers next to you, grinning up at him. “Well for starters, you could get in the bed with me, handsome.” His brown eyes sparkle when he returns the expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “And then you can hold me and make me forget all about this entire kriffing week.” 

Your captain is quite good at making you forget things, whether it be a bad day or your own name.

Obliging as always, Rex slides in behind you and loops an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his bare chest. Your body reacts immediately to his touch, the tension in your muscles slacking. He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle from the way his beard tickles the sensitive skin there, and starts kissing every bit of you his lips can reach. When you try to squirm away from him and his beard, squealing and panting from your laughter, he just locks his big arms around you and keeps going.

“Eeee! Rex! S-stop, you’re tickling me-you’re tickling me!”

In between smacking kisses, he chuckles into your ear. “I thought you said you want me to make you forget about this week, mesh’la.” His hold loosens enough for you to wriggle around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and admiring how handsome he is up close.

You brush your lips over his, gently running your nails down the back of his neck and savoring the way he shivers at your soft touches; knowing you have such an effect on him makes your skin hot. “Well Captain,” you drawl with syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking something more along the lines of… this.” You roll your hips against his, sighing at the pleasant sensation. 

Rex groans his rumbling approval and drops his large hands to your ass to grind you harder against his center. “Anything you want, baby, just tell me and it’s yours.”

You know what you want: to be taken care of after this shit-show of a week, to be kissed and loved and cherished like only he can, doted on and held safe in his arms. You want to completely let go and surrender—no more thoughts, no more worries, just him. Just Rex. Your perfect, perfect Rex. 

Capturing his lips in an indulgent kiss, you whine your desire into his mouth when you break for air, not caring how needy you sound. 

He shushes you with gentle sounds, stroking over your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” he coos in a sinfully sweet voice, cradling your face between his palms, “you’ve had a hard week… yeah, I know, I know. You need Daddy to make it all better, don’t you?” He pulls you crushingly tight against the strong line of his body, just how he knows you like, holding all your pieces together so you don’t have to.

“Please,” you gasp, burrowing deeper into him, “Don’t wanna… don’t wanna be anymore. Just wanna be yours.” The ache of existence in your chest is already beginning to melt underneath his weight, replaced by the tender warmth of his devoted attention. The edges of your mind go liquid as you let him pour you into his mold.

“Daddy’s going to take care of you, all you have to do is listen and let him make you feel good, okay, babygirl?” You bob your head in a nod, your eyes starry and wide as you await his next instruction. Rubbing the back of your neck, Rex places an affectionate kiss on your forehead for your obedience. “Good girl. Now turn over, face out and back to me… lift your arms… yeah, just like that,” he murmurs as he slides your top off, planting wet kisses on the new skin exposed to him.

His battle-worn hands skim up the swell of your tummy to take in breasts. You’re already buzzing in eager anticipation. You push into his touch, pressing your chest out in an offer of more, and you’re to be quickly rewarded with a low groan and his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples deliciously slow. Wanting heat rises through you like a flame catching to dry tender while little mewls of pleasure fall from your lips. 

“So beautiful, so warm, my sweet cyar’ika,” he purrs between more lush kisses, “I know this makes you feel good… I’m going to give those perfect tits the attention they deserve.” He gives your peaked tips a gentle pinch and you moan, the electric sensation shooting straight to swollen clit. Smiling at your vocal pleasure, Rex begins an erotic rhythm that has you bucking your hips as his fingers alternate between pinching and rolling.

“Ooohhh, y-you feel so… you feel s-so good,” you whine, writhing against his ministrations. With the way his breathing has gone hot and ragged in your ear, you swear it could be enough to make you come untouched. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, just feel the pleasure… just concentrate on how good you feel, nothing else,” he instructs, his deep voice like golden honey to your ears. “Daddy’s got you now, he’s gonna take care of everything. He doesn’t like seeing his baby so stressed and unhappy.” Rex latches onto your pulse point, sucking your heated flesh into his mouth and sending waves of pleasure throbbing through your nerves.

“Nev-never unhappy with you,” you pant, reaching your hand back to push him deeper into your neck. Rex is your shining sun who banishes all of life’s many darknesses, and the match which lights the fire of your loins. He’s everything to you, and right now, he’s all you can feel and see and smell. It’s utterly divine. 

“Mmm, that makes me so happy to hear, you know why? Making you happy, taking care of my beautiful babygirl… it makes me happy. Daddy loves being there for his cyar’ika and he’d do anything to put a smile on her face, you know that?” Cupping your jaw, he tilts your head back to steal the little gasps of delight dripping sugary-thick from your lips. As hot and heavy as things have become, Rex doesn’t rush. He takes his time licking into your mouth and nibbling on your slicked bottom lip, all the while kneading and rolling your breasts, ever the man to keep his word.

Molten heat rushes through your veins as his words pour over your skin, spurring you onto new heights under his generous hands—the deep swell of his voice loosens the taunt aggravation of the week still stowed in your muscles. You’re like lavish wax under his care, worked pliable by him then molded into a work of weightless art, your very existence something to be admired.

His calloused fingertips sweep over the plushness of your lower belly, the shimmering heat of your arousal converging at his touch. When he dips below the fabric of your waistband, he sucks in a breath. “No panties, pretty girl? Now you’re the one spoiling me,” he groans, his cock twitching against the cage of your back. 

You let out a delighted, breathy giggle at his body’s reaction to the discovery. “I thought you might like that,” you breathe out fond and pleased, “I did it just for you.” 

He brushes lower, his middle finger tracing over the damp seam of your folds and a whimper sneaks through your smile at the feathery sensation. It’s these light, almost subatomic touches that make you come loose at the seams—and he knows it. Inside the year that you’ve been together, Rex has learned your body intimately, its history and inner workings revealed in the hours you spent in his arms.

“I love to hear your sweet little laugh, and I love to know that you’re smiling,” he murmurs affectionately, cupping your slick mound, “I’m so proud of you for letting me take some of the weight off you after this difficult week.” He takes a moment to plant kisses in the soft crook of your neck and up to your ear before continuing. “Now, just lie back, let me make you feel all warm and sweet. I want to watch you melt for me… melt and leave me with all your sweet honey to lick up.”

Each word shaped by his rich rasp further unmoors you from your senses. That sensual tingling feeling of submission bubbles pleasantly across your mind, your bones softening to downey cotton as you lose yourself to the sound of Rex’s voice. You can’t tell where the vibration of your own sounds of pleasure end and his begin, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, so, so safe and happy here in the glowing space between his arms. If only you could have him inside, too…

“C-can I have more, please? Want more of you, baby,” you pant, grinding into his palm between your thighs.

“Of course, mesh’la, you can have whatever you like. Anything and everything, all you have to do is ask.” Pressing into your lower lips, he spreads you apart. Your teeth immediately catch your lip when his trigger finger begins languidly sliding over your buzzing clit; the delicious friction fans the flames of your desire, heating you from the inside out. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest when your head falls back against his shoulder with a contented sigh. 

Rex takes advantage of the new access you allowed him, dragging his hot lips over your collarbone to nip and suck little marks onto your heated skin. “Mmm, I love touching you, I love feeling you,” he hums, thick and heady, “I want you to feel how much I care about you…” He scrapes his teeth up your tender throat to capture your mouth with his own.

Stars-Maker-kriff does he kiss like a god. A king amongst men, really, who- “Oh!”

Your eyes fly open as your captain easily flips you under him like a ragdoll, pulling your pants down and flinging them over his shoulder in one fluid motion that has you gushing.

“That’s better,” he mutters between hot mouthed-kisses down your sternum and over your tummy. The way his beard scrapes over your skin has chillbumps flowering all over. “It fills me up with so much happiness when I get to love on my sweet cyar’ika and take care of her. Makes everything else go away for me, too, sweetheart. I get to just focus on you.” 

His large hands skate down your ribs then down the curve of your hips to massage the fullness of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting to worship this perfect pussy, pull all those pretty sounds out of you while you come over and over… just like you deserve.”

You’re nothing more than a warm soup of sparkling sensation, swirling around the ache building in your core. Rex isn’t usually one to tease you, but it feels like he’s taking an eternity to make it between your-

“Ohhhh, Reeeex!”

Wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, he literally lifts you up to his mouth, moaning like a man tasting some paradisic fruit after months in the desert. “Fuck, babygirl, your little pussy… I could feel hot and needy it was when you were rubbing up against me, how wet and messy you were… but this? Kark. I’m so lucky to be able to kiss all over this beautiful cunt. So lucky to have this pussy, this ass,” he gives an appreciative squeeze to your behind, “and this sweet little girl all to myself.”

The air is suctioned from your lungs by the gravity of his pleasure; it’s unrelenting and all-consuming, it’s all you can comprehend. Squeezing your eyes shut in focus, you manage a reply. “S-so l-lucky to have you, Rex. You’re s-so good to me… love you… love you so much.” You cut off with a shuddering cry when he sucks your bud between his lips, not caring that you’re swiftly losing a battle you don’t want to win.

“I love you so much, my mesh’la,” he pants into your heat. “My sweet, precious girl, I’m going to give you my fingers, okay? Gonna give you just what you need so you can come all over my face.” He slips two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and releasing them with pop before easing into your soaked entrance. The twin sounds of your satisfaction fill the room, the stout stretch of his fingers making you moan while the clutch of your cunt has your captain grunting praises against your clit. 

“Kark, you’re so tight and wet, so perfect… clenching around me,” he crooks his fingers as much as he can in the restrictive walls, “Don’t hold back, beautiful, let me hear you. Let me hear how good you feel.”

His words scorch your nerves to ash with a molten magma of pleasure that erupts from your core. Your spine bows up, making Rex find the soul-shattering spot that makes you scream in ecstasy. The world around you snaps into sharp focus, bright and loud before exploding in a shower of stars and lambent energy. You’re unmade, unwound down to your most basal form of hot-blooded, carnal need where time and worldly matters no longer reign in your existence. Primal satisfaction and the thrill of euphoria rule you instead for several effervescent moments.

When the flood of electricity flowing from every cell and synapse begins to ebb to jolting aftershocks, the sweet praise of your lover floats over you in warm waves. “So beautiful like this… keep going mesh’la, take what you need… I love you so much… love making you feel good, love feeling your perfect pussy on my fingers…”

Reverent kisses are bestowed like offerings to the divinity of your pleasure as you materialize back into reality one pounding heartbeat at a time. Joy radiates from every molecule in your body, the stress of the mortal coil dissolved and washed far away, leaving you light, free, and happy. You want nothing more than to revel in this glorious sensation with the love of your life, and you call out to your captain with a breezy sigh, “Rex…”

“Cyare…”

“Want you close, my love, want you to hold me.”

You barely register his movement in your hazy after-glow, but soon your chest is pressed against a familiar wall of muscle and there’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Snuggling into his open warmth, you nuzzle into his neck and inhale Rex’s timber-fresh scent. 

Safe… happy… love. Him. Forever. 

Your hazy thoughts drift across the clear sky of your mind, eventually coalescing into a nebulous sentiment your lips can form around. “Rex… love you so much… thank you, baby.”

Curling around you tighter, Rex’s beard brushes over your shoulder as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Anything for you, my sweet, perfect girl,” he smiles into your hair, “You are everything to me, the light of an old soldier’s life. I will always take care of you, my mesh’la, no matter what.”

And with the certainty only love can bring, you know him to be true.   

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

mesh'la - beautiful

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

Do you have any headcanons for radiohuskerdust dynamic?

Im so sorry this took so long to reply to i literally let out a screech of joy when i got it and wanted to wait till i was home for the day so i could properly reply LOL

GOD YES I HAVE SOME♡ I HAVE MANY EEE

Overall i view Alastors role here as some flavor of queer platonic— he has the potential to be a caring partner but doesn't care much for romance specifically (yes my aromantic ass is projecting a lil shhhh)

My personal favorite take for them in canon is that eventually over the course of Alastors redemption he does eventually let Husk go— i have. Many feelings on that whole situation too but this is gonna be long already so SJDKEKDK just know i see them eventually getting to a point where they accept that neither of them are perfect and can let things go. Alastor considers Husk a very dear friend, and does in fact hold a high amount of respect for him, and Husk feels the same (although hes a little more Tsundere about it sksksksk)

Angel is very much so the glue that holds this ot3 together LOL

Like i think both Husk and Alastor fall for him first and through Angel find a way to actually communicate over the strange mix of feelings they've had with each other. Angels good at reading other people, he can tell they have *something* going on and isn't afraid to point it out.

I constantly see people making Angel hate Alastor but sorry no i do not agree at all.

Despite the initial impressions of each other, Alastor and Angel would be FANTASTIC friends. Once Alastor understands that Angels humor is just that, humor, hes not actually expecting anything from Al, he starts meeting Angel halfway on his jokes, adding onto them. Once they start to realize they can bounce off each other and actually bond oh god its OVER.

Alastor finds Angel actually very charming to be around, and Angel realizes Alastor isn't a prude or anything he just has some firm walls up.

God they'd be INSUFFERABLE together

You know that post thats like "i ship this ship but like specifically as a comedy duo" yeah thats radiodust in my heart LOL

They'd be the bane of Husks existence together.

Also Alastor is capable of being a huge gentleman and i can see him treating Angel to fancy dinners and "Dates". Alastor has no care for romance but he knows how to treat someone well and Angel basks in the attention.

They'd just VIBE so well!! Maybe its bc i spent years watching the hunniecast streams but god i think Radiodust make such a fun duo. If they put their heads together they can be a menace to society.

Alastor also gives off cheek/hand kiss vibes. He would do that shit and Angel is a sucker for it (both Husk and Alastor would treat him so well okay spider boy deserves it)

Husk and Angel have the most "Romantic" dynamic of the three ofc, and Alastor is happy to spend their date nights off doing his own thing. Huskerdusts dynamic is pretty much exactly as canon— i don't have many notes to add to it i Genuinely love how canon is handling them so far.

I won't dive off into nsfw here kwkfkwkd but i DO have thoughts on how that would work in this lineup.

I will say overall i see Angel as hypersexual, Husk as Demi, and Alastor as a sex neutral-Ace.

Like he just doesn't GET it but he can find some compromises if one of his partners askes.