#but sometimes you just get sucked in by a single character and that’s not enough to watch the whole show for

[scorndotexe]

Out of curiosity, why do you dislike Midnight Mass? It's really like hear your opinions.

it's just so fucking BORING!! the concept is interesting i do find the concept interesting (vampire priest who believes his vampirism is a gift from god) but somehow it was done in the least interesting way possible. sometimes there's like a minute where i thought "holy shit is it finally gonna get better" and then i watched the next episode and it continued to be exactly the same.

all the characters are basically exactly the same. i know it's by monologue flanagan but can they at least monologue in DIFFERENT ways??? dear god. he edited it himself and you can REALLY tell. the fucking ten minute scene that's just "what do you think happens after we die? vcnvncmrnwbvnjef vdmnnc cmnennwneetnewnnwbefnbrtnbemrbermnbmrbtrtbwnrebeb" is crazy who thought that was a good idea. god every character was so forgettable i think i remember like 4 names. genuinely i see people talking about a character and i have to look them up and i STILL don't remember them. don't get me started on the fucking therapy speak. also riley flynn is the most boring protagonist i've ever seen i can't think of a single personality trait he has. i can barely think of ANY personality traits ANY characters have.

i know we shit on his adaptations a lot (as we should) and at the very fucking least he didn't ruin another excellent work of horror with midnight mass but he is NOT a good writer with his own stuff either!! it's so BLAND. even when it's not boring it's bland and uninteresting. i know i'm biased i know i watch extreme horror to find artistic value in underlooked pieces of media so i'm used to "that freak shit" but he did nothing!!! he did nothing with his vampire priest! he was literally irrelevant by the end because he gave that antagonist role to some other character and he was never really the protagonist either. he was just there for a really dumb late-game romance plot/plot twist.

it's such an unbearable show and the ending isn't even good!!! its tone is so fucking weird like everyone dies and yet there's still a weirdly hopeful tone to it. i feel like that's a moment to REALLY lean into the tragedy. it doesn't have a happy ending but it also doesn't let you feel sad enough for it to be truly tragic.

also there's like three different types of vampire in the show and it makes NO sense why they're so different from each other. i'm not asking for extensive lore i'm just asking for consistency.

it's like 8 hours long and i know i've probably spent way more than that complaining about this fucking show but still a waste of my time. it just sucks so much. it could have been an okay movie but as a whole show it's so dragged out and doesn't DO anything with those eight hours. i don't mind a slow burn i really don't but a) the build up has to be worth something and b) it has to have something really really good at the end of the build up.

honestly it looks SO good in gifs and screenshots and fanart that it makes me wish the show was better because you could have a much better experience just looking at those and imagining a good show than actually watching it.

on the plus side if you DO watch the actual show riley's death scene is the funniest shit in the whole thing.

[zukkaoru]

i think. everyone should stop reading my most popular fics that aren't really that good and start reading the ones with 18 kudos that are significantly better

[julescarstairs]

I feel I’m something of a fandom bystander sometimes. I somehow get fascinated by a show/cartoon/book/game, learn about its plot and characters passively, but never actually watch the show, read the book or play the game.

So I end up with this plethora of general knowledge about different pop culture, but not enough to actually have a meaningful conversation with anyone about it.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

mused on some thesis about how billions uses Indignity to illustrate that something someone does has failed / gone wrong in one way or another, and how the way this punishment is an Emotional one means that it can't land if the character just doesn't Feel that punished by it, or at least doesn't like attribute the supposed failure to something inherent enough to them to particularly stew on it, see for example people heightening/escalating their efforts to embarass someone if even that person doesn't Seem to sufficiently externally react in embarassment. winston able to truck along while (a) consciously crafting or maintaining some persona, of eternal and irrefutable dignity or whatever else is associated with "merit"/status, isn't much of a priority, when to him his skills speak for themself even though to others this is about their own merit in recognizing independently if winston's skills Happen to have use, and putting him down if he tries to speak to that anyways, and (b) he's also just able to move along from L's handed to him, whether he thinks it was warranted (like that he'll accept it doesn't count if he only thought it but didn't say it) or not (why can't you count to loyalty), when even if this resilience To How Others Treat Him isn't exactly peak realistic, that he thinks of himself in such a way that he doesn't need to be striving for some paramount official status, or think he's defined by never failing or indeed never possibly able to be seen within a "wow undignified / embarassing" framework so long as this winningness is recognized, or so long as anything is anything, is sure feasible enough.

but anyways thought about it like this thesis is just "i am cringe but i am free" like yeah that works

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: Hard Day in the Office | NSFW

One of my buddies really wanted Zayne jacking it in his office. And so did I. So I did it. Here's a masturbation fic of our favorite doctor.

Unedited Drabble

Pairings: Zayne x Reader Warnings : Masturbation, Public Office Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

He had thought he handled the situation well. Your appointment had been going well, for the most part. Other than a little playful banter, it had been professional. Just like every appointment with Dr. Zayne.

Then the end of the appointment had come, and you had gotten a bit more casual with the doctor. Placing a hand around his arm as you spoke with a smile on your face, asking him what time he got off today in case he wanted to get dinner after his shift. It was sweet, it was innocent.

So why had Zayne's head gone to the gutter the moment you laughed and told him you'd see him later.

You had left him alone in his office, alone to his thoughts, and not a single one could be considered even somewhat professional. Instead the only thing he could think about was how uncomfortably tight his pants were, and how hot his office suddenly had gotten.

Zayne had checked the time at his computer, looking it over and sighing in frustration. He had at least half an hour before he had to see his next patient. At least if he had work to do, he could distract himself easier. Instead he was at his office, alone, for half an hour.

Trying to do paperwork was basically a lost cause as he shifted in his chair and winced when he could still feel his erection. With a resigned huff, Zayne got up and locked the door to his office before going back to his chair. Behind his desk, even if someone had walked in, they wouldn't be able to see him.

He sometimes hated how complex his clothes were as he began working his belt off and unzipping his pants. He didn't bother fully taking anything off, instead grasping his hard cock and letting out a soft grunt in response.

He was already so damn worked up from you as he used some of the pre cum at the tip to help him glide along his length. His breathing was already a bit shallower as he worked his dick, thinking about all sort of scenarios.

What would you look like underneath his desk at this moment. He could perfectly envision you under the large desk, away from view. Your mouth teasing him through his clothes and you nuzzled up against his thighs, asking him what he wanted. His hands going through your hair as he guided you closer to his cock and your smaller hand going to unzip him and pull out his length.

Zayne squeezed his own cock as he imagined how your mouth would feel. You'd probably be leaving butterfly kisses along the length of it, kissing upwards to tease him until you took the head into your mouth. Zayne closed his eyes now, imagining all of this happening and covering his mouth with his free hand to help stifle the noises he was making.

The things he'd do to you…the things he'd let you do to him. Whatever you wanted he'd be accepting of it. On top, on bottom, switching it up, eating you out, letting you suck him off. If it meant he could be with you, he'd be willing to do it.

Another gasp left his mouth as he felt himself getting close, his pace picking up as he worked his cock. He just needed to cum, to get that release so he could focus on his job. He grunted again as he took in deep breaths.

Would you be willing to swallow it? Zayne had a fairly healthy diet if you didn't consider all the sweets. He'd be more willing to eat things that would make him taste better if it meant he could watch you. Have you sticking your tongue out, showing him his own cum painting your mouth, then swallowing his load.

That mental image was enough to throw him over the edge. He groaned as he felt the warm release coating his fist as he worked himself through it, no longer capable of hiding all of his noises. He was panting again, slumped in his chair as he looked over at the time. Only ten minutes had passed. He let out an almost pitiful huff as he sat back up, then heard his phone chime.

It was a message from you. A short one, giving him the location of the restaurant you wanted to try. He thought it over and blushed, realizing how hard his day was going to be when he thought about you.

[yuujispinkhair]

We never go out of style

The thing with Sukuna and you is that it's fun. It's fun to kiss him at parties and to take him home and sleep with him. It's fun to just have this casual little on-and-off romance with him because, after all, you both know that you will always come back to each other.

Aka, I listened to Style by Taylor Swift and got the biggest butterflies when I pictured a modern College boy version of Sukuna to this song.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, College AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of sex at semi-public/public places. Reader and Sukuna have an on-and-off fling, but both develop feelings over time. During one of their breaks, they both kiss other people and get jealous about it. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You aren't even sure how you got into that on-and-off fling with Sukuna. It was supposed to be just a little fun at a frat party. A few heated kisses in the kitchen while you were sitting on the counter, and he was standing between your legs, one large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to kiss you in a way that made your head spin.

Just a little fun. Just a few sexy kisses with a sexy boy who had too many tattoos, too much confidence, and a reputation that should have sent you running.

You never planned to go home with him. But somehow you did, and somehow you ended up in his bed with him on top of you, in all his naked glory, tall and sexy with all those toned muscles and tattoos. And somehow, your hand was caressing his undercut and tangled in his slicked-back pink hair, ruffling it in a way that made him look almost cute. And somehow, the way he was grinding against you and fucking you into his mattress was the best sex you ever had.

Maybe that's why you walked over to him when you saw him on campus on Monday morning, leaning casually against a fence with sunglasses pushed up into his slicked-back hair, smirking that boyish smirk at you and lifting a large hand to wave you over with one long tattooed finger.

Maybe it was a combination of his skills in the bedroom and his confidence and boyish charm that made you agree to meet him again. Maybe it was the way he flashed you such an attractive smile when you said yes that made your knees feel strangely weak when you walked to your next class.

No matter what the reason was, ever since that day months ago, you have been in this little on-and-off fling with Sukuna.

Never quite the real thing, but also never not a thing.

Sometimes it's a few drunk kisses at a party, where you suck on his tongue and moan when he lifts you up to set you on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it's loud, excited laughter and a fluttering pulse when he takes tequila shots where he licks the salt off your neck, letting his tongue-piercing glide over your skin. Sometimes, it's a wink and a flirty greeting while passing him in the hallway. Sometimes, it's a passionate hour spent in his bed, forgetting all the College stress when he dicks you down so good you almost cry.

Sometimes, you go weeks without talking to each other, both doing your own thing. But then you'll receive a text message at 3 a.m. asking you how you're doing.

"What's up, princess? Wanna meet up? I kind of miss your laugh."

You meet him every time. And it's always the same after a few weeks of not seeing each other:

A racing heart and a loud laugh when he stands in front of your door with a bottle of cheap wine and a single red rose. Needy, hungry kisses when you pull him into your apartment. Impatient hands tearing at each other's clothes as you stumble to your bedroom.

Your friends start to notice and ask you if you are dating Sukuna. You deny it, laughing and shaking your head. Who would be stupid enough to date him? You know this is something that only leads to a broken heart. No, Sukuna isn't someone for a relationship or anything serious.

But he is fun. So much fun. The bad boy with the charming grin. The arrogant asshole with the sweetest sweet talk you've ever heard. You know he is dangerous. A heartbreaker, a big flirt. Everybody wants him in their bed. He could have a pretty girl or boy on each finger.

You make sure not to get too invested. You keep it casual. A little fling when you feel like it. When you feel like getting fucked so good, you forget your own name. You make sure to push him away a little bit when things seem to become too intense.

You tell him you won't have time for him during the following weeks because you have to study. He doesn't have to know that, in reality, it's because you can't get his stupid charming smile out of your mind or because you catch yourself rolling over in your bed one night and sighing "Kuna" when you think you can still smell his cologne on your pillow where he slept a few nights ago.

This is dangerous territory. It's best to keep your distance for a while. You go out with your friends. You go to bars and clubs Sukuna doesn't frequent, meeting new people, flirting with someone new, maybe kissing one or two others just for the fun of it because you are young and free and you can do whatever you want. Or maybe it is to convince yourself you aren't falling for a pink-haired bad boy with the world's most charming smirk.

Your dormmate asks you if you and Sukuna broke up because lately, she hasn't seen him leave your room in the mornings with his hair ruffled and hickeys adorning his neck.

Another friend of yours approaches you with a sympathetic look and gently informs you that they saw Sukuna with some other girl last night, kissing her against the wall at a party.

You smile through all the comments, shaking your head and brushing it off.

"Oh, that's fine. We aren't dating or anything like that. He is just a little fling. It's not that serious!"

You try to ignore the uneasiness those comments cause. You smile and buy a new sexy outfit, and go to more bars to kiss more strangers, and Sukuna does the same.

Until you bump into him at another party. You turn the corner after grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and suddenly, you run into his tall, muscular figure, your face practically knocking against his chest. And he laughs and raises an eyebrow at you while his maroon gaze trails lazily over your body.

"It's been a while, princess. How was the studying?"

"It was good..."

"What were you studying again? Making out with strangers in bars?"

His eyes glitter challengingly, and his velvety low voice is carefully playful and teasing, but you can hear the edge in it. You glare up at him, 

"Oh, you mean the thing you were studying too? I heard you were hanging out with some other girl."

For a long moment, no one says a word, and you just stare deeply into each other's eyes. But then Sukuna laughs and cocks his head, 

"Well, it's true what you heard, but it was only two or three times. I'm not interested in her. Especially not now, when you seem to have time for me again."

You know he is leaning down on purpose, knowing full well how hot you find your height difference. You know he is brushing his lips over your ear with the intention of making you weak. You know he is calling you princess in that low sexy voice to make you come home with him tonight and forget all the dumb shit both of you did during the last few weeks.

You know now would be the right moment to tell him it's over for good. But you don't do it. You don't want to.

What you want is to put a hand on his toned chest and grab the front of his white shirt to pull him closer. 

"I have time for you, Kuna. I have time tonight and maybe tomorrow, too."

You can feel his smirk when he kisses you, and his muscular, tattoed arms wrap around you and pull you against that tall, strong body that feels so fucking good against you.

"That's good, princess, since I couldn't stop thinking about you and me those last few weeks. It's more fun when you're with me."

The two of you are back at your typical shit again. Passionate kisses at various parties, loud moans, and entangled sweaty bodies in either Sukuna's bed or yours. Once a week, twice, maybe more often. Sometimes, he stays the whole night and makes your dormmate complain about him using up all the milk in the fridge.

The occasional late-night texts turn into nightly calls. Lying in your bed in the dark with a racing heart as you listen to Sukuna's low voice telling you random things he did today, smiling when he tells you to sleep well.

You go to parties together and make out on kitchen counters. You go to clubs and dance and kiss and make it look so dirty that strangers come up to you and tell you to get a room. You give Sukuna a good luck kiss in the morning before his exam and laugh when he walks around with your red lip print on his cheek. 

People start commenting again on your relationship status, but you just laugh and roll your eyes.

Just like you roll your eyes when Sukuna pulls up at your place on a Wednesday at quarter to midnight, his car window rolled down, long fingers casually flicking off the ash of his half-smoked cigarette as he smirks at you,

"Wanna go on a ride, princess? Jump in. Let's drive to the beach."

"It's almost midnight, you idiot!"

"So what? I didn't say just for tonight, did I? We can stay for a few days, check into a hotel, have some fun tomorrow at the beach, go swimming, sip sweet cocktails at a shabby little bar, fuck in the warm sand, things like that. I know you want to."

You do.

You know you have an exam next week and really shouldn't miss any courses, but what can you do when Sukuna is here in front of you with his sexy smirk and that enticing sparkle in his maroon eyes, offering you the chance for a spontaneous adventure you will probably never forget?

You get into his car. You let him rest his large hand much too high on your thigh, and you let him kiss you breathless at every red light, giggling when he misses the traffic light changing, and the cars behind you honk. But Sukuna just grins against your lips and keeps kissing you while he lifts his hand to flip the guy behind him off in the rearview mirror.

You listen to him complaining about his teammates and his coach and make sure to nod understandingly and do the "Oh, no, he didn't!" and "Ah, that sucks!" at the right moments, earning you a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

You check into a cheap hotel down at the beach, feeling your heart beating like crazy because it feels like you are a criminal couple on the run in some noir movie. Or maybe two forbidden lovers meeting here in secret, far away from the cruel reality where everything is too serious, and people expect you to be a responsible adult.

Sukuna fucks you like he's starved for your body. Hard, deep thrusts and bruising kisses. Passionate sex that makes the old bed creak loudly while the sound mingles with your gasps and moans of Sukuna's name. Rough fucking that turns into surprisingly gentle lovemaking later that night, and Sukuna's soft moans against your neck and sweet little nothings whispered in your ear.

You return home two days later, feeling lightheaded and a bit sore from all the sex you had with Sukuna during those two days. On the hotel bed, in the shower, at the beach at night, on the drive home in his car.

His hand is on your thigh, slipping a bit under your short skirt, caressing your skin while he kisses you thoroughly in his parked car in front of your dorm. Maybe his hand tightens a bit on your thigh, not wanting to let go. Maybe you do the same, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and saying goodbye.

When you finally exit his car, he grins at you with lips that are swollen from all the kissing and smeared with your lipstick. The red one that he likes so much on you.

"I'll call you when I'm home, princess. And let's meet again on Tuesday or something. I heard there's a party at Choso's dorm."

"Alright… or you could just stay the night."

The smile that lights up his face is enough to make your breath quicken. He is out of his car in a second, a large hand on the small of your back, steering you towards your front door. And you are grateful for the darkness of the night that helps you hide the stupid big grin on your face.

You don't know if you will ever be more than this on-and-off thing. You don't even know whether you would want it to be more. You don't know if you ever want to date Sukuna for real or if you ever want to call him your boyfriend.

But you know he is your boy, and you are his girl.

It doesn't matter how long your little fling will last this time, just a week or maybe a month. It doesn't matter if you'll go your separate ways for a little while again at some point. In the end, you will always come back to each other. Because one thing is for sure: Whatever the two of you have will never go out of style.

I HAD SO MANY BUTTERFLIES WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG AND WRITING THIS AAAHHH!!! College boy Sukuna is my weakness. I'm so in love with him!!Help meee!!

So yeah, I decided that 1989 is a great College Sukuna album, and I will now go back to listening to it again and daydream about him.

I hope you enjoyed this little story and that it could give you butterflies too, maybe!! Please tell me how you liked it.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

[o-sachi]

Every Single Thing I Have ₊⊹ One Shot

ଳ Character; Michael Kaiser (Bllk)

ଳ Tags; mostly fluff, a bit of angst (happy ending), soft mihya, gn reader, no y/n

ଳ Note; inspired by Two by Sleeping at Last!

Selfish. Manipulative. Cold.

Those were the words often associated to him. You were well aware of what he was like on the field or how he treated others. But you could never seem to agree with them.

To you, Michael Kaiser was the most selfless and loving person you've come across in your life.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired When did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home Stay as long as you need

You knew the hardships that came with dating a football star. Everything else you could stomach, but to be away from him for weeks on end was something you couldn't overcome. So, whenever he left the country, he'd tell you to stay at his place for the time being. It's not quite the same as having him around, but to live in his space was comforting enough.

You'd sleep in his bed, occasionally use his clothes, and even bathe with his shampoo at times—all just to feel that he's right here with you. Sometimes he wonders why you haven't moved in yet.

You'd always say that you want to be financially stable first, not wanting to freeload off of him. But he scoffs each time.

"Love, I don't give a shit about that. I just want you here in my home," he'd always say.

His place was as good as yours. Parts of the apartment were decorated how you'd want it. You even had more products in the bathroom than he did. He'd integrate you in every particle of his life if he could.

Whenever he was around, he made sure you lived like royalty. You aren't allowed to lift a finger on his watch.

"Mihya, can you please just sit down for a moment? You just came home from practice remember?"

As always, he'd ignore you. "I'm only making dinner. No big deal."

"We can have our food delivered, so you can rest. Y'know?"

"And have you eat junk like fast food? No thanks," he retorts. Truthfully, as much as he cared about your health, he actually wanted to cook because it would be faster than waiting for a delivery. It had been hours since his last meal. It was often like that when he had practice. Time flies and eating becomes an after thought. But he never tells you that; he never wants you to worry about him.

You grumble. "Please, Mihya? I'll order us some food and you come here and cuddle with me instead."

You drive a hard bargain, he thought. Food can wait. He shuffled towards you on the sofa and plopped right beside you. His tattooed arm drapes over you in an instant.

You smile, knowing the hold you had over him.

Even with the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome. Cupping his face, you caressed his cheek with your thumb. "Have you been sleeping well? Look at these bags."

He offers a lopsided smile in return. "If you think I'm ugly just say so."

You giggle at his dramatics. "You are literally the most beautiful man I've laid eyes upon," you say while pinching his cheek. "But seriously, are you getting enough sleep? You work too hard sometimes." He sighs, leaning into your touch. He brings up his hand to hold yours. "I get to sleep beside you later no? That's all that matters to me, love."

Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart If it helps yours beat

If there's one thing in the world he hates more than himself, it was to see you in pain. Your tears were his kryptonite. Part of him hated to see you cry because he loved you too much. But another hated it because it reminded him of all the times he would cry when he was younger.

Hot salty tears triggered him; it stirred unwanted emotions within him. But he had to suck it up whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on. One of you had to stay strong and he'd gladly be the one to fill in the role.

He'd hold you—cradle you until everything was alright again. "Shhh, it's alright I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Kaiser had you in his arms. His grasp was as gentle as his words. It soothed you. Even if your eyes were swollen and muddled with tears, you could still see the pain in his eyes. It tugged at your heart knowing he felt so deeply for you. You'd go on a tangent about how cruel and unfair the world is—and he would agree. He had many things to say as well, but he had to put you first.

You'd cry and cry until you can't anymore. Exhaustion takes over and you simply pass out on his bed, unaware of the inner turmoil brewing inside of him. Kaiser sat beside you, weary face buried in his calloused palms. He wanted to cry as well.

But he couldn't because then you'd wake up.

It's okay if you can't find the words Let me take your coat And this weight off of your shoulders

You were the luckiest person in the world. Kaiser was everything—handsome, talented, financially stable, loving, and secure. At least... that's what you thought.

It wasn't your fault that he had an ongoing battle in his mind. If you knew, no doubt that you would help him. But he made sure to leave you disillusioned with his well-crafted facade.

When he's with you, he's all smiles. He's always strong enough for the both of you. When you're down—he's there to lift you up. And when you're at your highest—he's just right behind you, cheering you on.

He only wallows in his self-pity when he's alone—when you're far away from him. He couldn't bear the idea of you finding out how weak he truly was. He was scared that one day you'll realize what piece of trash he is for lying to you all this time.

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every Single thing I have

"Love, what do you want for your birthday?" You hum, tapping a finger on your chin as if to show him you were thinking hard. After a while, you come up with your answer.

"I just want you. That's all." His eyes widen for moment, but he quickly composes himself. He knew you were a simple person, but he expected something material... something of value. To think you'd settle for something so little was preposterous.

"That's all? You don't want a necklace or?"

Then your eyes light up. Ah... there it was. He got his hopes up too early. Of course, you want something expensive—something nice that actually had value and—

"How about we make those friendship bracelets? Y'know like we could DIY them with our own beads then make each other a bracelet? Can weeee?"

"For your birthday?" he asked quizzically. Kaiser was taken aback. What about the necklace? Were you really that easy to please? "Yes, for my birthday. I mean... we could go out to dinner or something. I'm fine with anything as long as you're there." He falls silent. Kaiser had never felt this before... the feeling of being needed. He knows he probably looks like an idiot, staring at you like he had seen a ghost. But he couldn't help it. His heart was throbbing and that was the only thing he could focus on.

Your expression drops as soon as you see his blank stare. "Hey... I mean, if bracelets aren't your thing then—" He cuts you off with a hug. It took you a while to reciprocate because it came out of nowhere. Sure, he hugs you all the time, but this hug in particular felt heavy—like it had some meaning behind it.

"Mihya? Are you okay?" you ask, wrapping your arms around him in response. And he'd hold you tighter. He'd screw his eyes shut, savoring your warmth as if it was only temporary. "Let's do those bracelets... just tell me where we can buy the beads."

He would gladly buy every single kind and more. He'd give you everything... everything that he could.

Like a tidal wave, we'll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached

You liked to repay him in little ways. Of course, you weren't required to do so, but you wanted to. It felt like a crime to not give back to the overwhelming love that he offers up to you.

That's why you found yourself in his kitchen at 10 in the evening, hunched over on the counter and eyeing the sorry excuse of a cake you just made.

He had recently won a practice match. It wasn't anything major, but you made it a point to celebrate every single achievement of his. However, it was the first time you attempted to bake something for him. You had envisioned for him to come home from practice and be greeted by a freshly baked chocolate cake.

But you messed it up. Somehow, it ended up both undercooked and overcooked. It was impressive in its own right.

You wanted to start over from scratch, but he was already on his way home. In fact, you were so absorbed in your failure that you missed the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Love? Where are you? I smell something burnt..."

He pokes his head into the kitchen and finds you slumped over with a brown lump on a plate in front of you. He walks over to you and rubs your back comfortingly.

"I wanted to make a cake, but... it looks like shit."

He laughs. "What for?"

Your sad eyes met his amused expression, arms instinctively wrapping around him. You were embarrassed by your subpar baking skills that you had to hide your face from him. "The practice match you won yesterday." His chest booms with laughter and he brings a hand to gently caress your hair. "It's alright, love. I appreciate the gesture." Peeling away from him, you couldn't help but look at the cake with disdain. "Yeah, but it's inedible."

Kaiser raises an eyebrow at you. He picks up the fork nearby and takes a piece of the cake. It was gooier than what you expected. "Hey! Don't eat it!" But it was too late, he had shoved the piece in his mouth and was already chewing. You watched in horror as he swallowed what might be undercooked batter.

"Tastes like cake to me." Your jaw drops. "You could've eaten the cooked part you know?" "Heh, where is the cooked part you speak of?" You pretended to be offended. There probably wasn't any perfectly cooked parts on this cake, but he didn't have to rub it in your face like that.

But you both laughed it off. You spent that night with him chatting over your poor chocolate cake. Kaiser was just happy that you went out of your way to do something for him. Truly, he didn't need anything in return. He loved you because... that's what he thinks he was made for.

The cake was shit, but for some reason it tasted so good when he ate it with you.

It's okay if you can't catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight Out of my own chest

As perfect as you deem your relationship to be, of course, there were misunderstandings here and there. They were usually fixed with a simple "sorry" and a warm hug.

But this time was different. It was a full blown fight. Perhaps both of you were tired and frustrated. Neither of you even noticed it had turned into a shouting match—not until Kaiser felt a familiar and haunting pang in his chest.

Images of his father crossed his mind. He was reminded of the hurtful things the old man hurled at him. Suddenly, he lost the will to fight back. It wasn't long before you noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Silence enveloped the both of you as you stood apart from each other. You had never seen this expression on his face before. As much as he hated vulnerability, he croaked out words faster than he could realize.

"Please don't leave me."

It was soft enough that if it were any lower, you probably would have missed it. You were frozen in place. You were fighting, but it had never occurred to you the desire to leave him. Why would he say such a thing?

"Mihya?" You cautiously walked towards him and took his hands in yours. "I never thought about leaving you." He focused on the way your thumbs brushed over his knuckles. It was foreign to him—how he could be shouted at and comforted right after.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to think that way," you apologized.

Then... a tear rolled down his cheek. You swore your heart fell to your stomach. Kaiser had never cried in front of you before.

"Mihya? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I promise I'm not going to leave you..."

Your hands let go of his to hold on to his arms instead. "Please talk to me..."

He tried to hide his frown by lowering his head, but his sorrow was palpable. "You promise?"

"I swear on my life."

Your promise only served to coax more tears out of him. As much as he hated his current display of emotions—he couldn't avoid it. The warmth, the happiness, and the security you offer up to him was too much to bear.

He used to think he wasn't deserving of anything close to love, but here you were—proving him wrong time and time again. Maybe... just maybe... he did actually deserve it.

His dream of being loved could become true after all.

I know exactly how the rule goes: Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts

After that particular fight, you became more observant of him. You felt stupid that you didn't notice his pain sooner. He was too good at concealing his true feelings that you were fooled into thinking that he was okay. But he really wasn't.

However, you knew better than to force it out of him. Slowly but surely, you tried to help him open up to you. But your efforts were futile. He'd always wave it off and smile at you. It was the same smile that had tricked you in the past.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"What about you, love? Have you been taking care of yourself?"

"Don't mind me. I'm strong, right?"

But Kaiser was a liar and you knew. He wasn't fine and he wasn't as strong as he made himself out to be. You both had your own pains, but you wanted both of you to overcome them together.

A frown crossed your face whenever he dismissed your worries, but you knew better than to force it out of him. All you could do is wipe the frown off your face and etch a small smile instead.

One day... one day he'll tell it all to you—when he isn't scared anymore.

I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day I will get Around to fixing myself too

Kaiser thought he was suffocating. But wasn't he asleep? Ah... he was dreaming. There were times when he applauded his mind for being so excellently vivid at imagining the field. He was a master of metavision after all. But this cursed ability made his dreams feel all too real.

The hands that gripped his neck felt far too tangible, like there were fingers constricting his air flow. And those eyes... those eyes that detested him like he was nothing more than trash. The hatred was so conspicuous that it made him sweat in a fully airconditioned room.

After struggling for what seemed like forever, Kaiser snapped out of it. He sat up in bed and looked around. As expected, he was met with darkness; the faint light filtering through the window barely illuminated his bedroom. Frantically, he looked to the side and was pacified momentarily by the sight of you sleeping peacefully next to him.

You had rolled over to the farthest side of the bed, unaware of what was happening to him. Kaiser pulled his knees towards him, resting his elbows on the peaks and burying his face in his palms. He desperately wanted to calm down his racing heartbeat.

Why did he have to infiltrate his dreams? Didn't he torment him enough already? What did he do in his past life that made him deserve this kind of torture? Why?

Why?

Too caught up in his thoughts, Kaiser hadn't noticed the way you stirred in your sleep or how you had noticed that he was awake. Before he knew it, arms had snaked around his waist.

"Why are you still awake?"

You were still groggy, so perhaps you didn't notice the distress written all over his face. But you squeezed him tighter. Your instincts told you that he needed it. And he needed it badly.

"Come back to bed. I'll hold you."

He does what he was told. You slowly pulled him back into bed with you, never letting him go. You scoot closer to him as humanly possible. Kaiser didn't mind that you left no space between the two of you. If he was going to be suffocated, it might as well be by your embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He felt your breath fan against the warm skin of his neck. Your lips lightly brushed the sensitive skin as you spoke. He reached up to caress your arm, trying to reciprocate the affection you were giving him.

He only hummed in response, not wanting to elaborate further. You were sleepy as it is; there was no need for him to snap you out of your rest for his sake.

"I'll be fine... I have you with me." That's right, he thought. He had you. Everything would be fine if he had you.

Kaiser still had lingering feelings of pain inflicted by the violent hands and the hateful scrutiny of his father. But he hoped that one day you'd wash those feelings away. Kaiser hoped that your gentle touches and loving gaze would make him anew.

Somehow, maybe, you could fix the disaster that was Michael Kaiser.

I don't even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall When it all fell apart

He knew it was wrong to rely solely on you. Happiness came from loving oneself—they say. But it was impossible. Every time he let himself alone with his thoughts it would always make him spiral.

Kaiser watched from the marble counter as you swayed your hips to the funky music that played in the kitchen. You were cooking some fancy dish that he forgot the name of.

As you observed every movement you made, he slowly started to entertain the idea of finally opening up to you. But, as always, the same thoughts hindered him.

What if you look at him differently? What if it pushes you away? What if you realize that maybe his father was right?

It was unlikely, but not impossible—at least that's what his mind would say. But then he was reminded of your face. He could melt whenever he recalled the soft expression on your face as you told him you'd always be there for him.

So... maybe...

"Hey."

You turn around at his call. "What's up?"

He gulps. This is it. "Can we talk after dinner? I have something I want to tell you."

You almost dropped your spatula. "Is it bad? Because if it's bad I won't be able to eat a bite of what I made."

He chuckled. Typical you.

"Don't worry. I just want to tell you a story."

I just want to love you, to love you To love you well just want to learn how, somehow To be loved myself

You were never this engrossed in a story before. No words escaped your mouth. Instead, you nodded along with every word he spoke. You could tell that he was trying his utmost best to keep a neutral face, but your heart broke knowing how caged he must have felt.

He poured his heart out. Kaiser was still scared, that much was true. But he was a point of no return. You already knew much of it, so what was the point of hiding any of his remaining emotions?

He bared it all for you, not missing a detail. He wanted you—desperately wanted you—to understand what he struggled with. He figured that if you did, maybe he'd finally find peace in himself knowing that the person he loves still accepts him despite his faults.

I will love you without any strings attached And what a privilege it is to love A great honor to hold you up

When he exhausted himself of every tidbit of his life, he stared at you and your dumbfounded expression. You had so much to say to him, but at the same time, you didn't know what to say. You wanted to mutter anything—literally anything to at least let him know that you were listening.

"I love you, Mihya."

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind. But really, it was the only thing on your mind. Everything that you wanted to say—the comforting words, the advice—everything boiled down to those 4 words.

He was a troubled man, that much you knew. You weren't ignorant of his attitude when you weren't around. And you knew that he was always keeping some part of himself hidden even from you. Just like him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders.

Kaiser finally trusted you enough with this. And now you understood why he was such a selfless lover. He valued you so much to the point that he thought you were the best thing he would ever have in his lifetime and he would be a massive idiot to let you go.

He did everything in his power to make you happy and to make you feel loved.

So, wouldn't it be right for you to do the same?

You smile and take his shaking hands in yours. A beautiful promise falls from your lips:

"And I will love you with every single thing I have."

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms

[come-see-our-show]

I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!

Changed that I liked:

The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.

The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)

Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.

All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.

This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).

The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).

Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.

Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT

megan thee stallion just… being there

Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!

As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷

Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)

Changes that I didn’t like:

Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.

While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!

Other stuff:

The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.

Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!

The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me

The EDITING

Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs�� because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.

Jon Hamm cameo!

Ashley Park cameo!

I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.

I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈

I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩

Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.

The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!

THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)

I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)

DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀

“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*

“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺

Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!

NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭

Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰

[chaoticace2005]

Top Hazbin Hotel Songs so far: (order not super relevant because I jump a lot between my favorites so it’s hard to have a definitive ranking.)

(Note: ALL the songs were bops. There wasn’t a single one I disliked. I’m just going off which ones hit me the hardest and are now living in my head.)

1. Stayed Gone- this song is just so fucking catchy. The quick talking of Vox at the beginning is great- displaying confidence while also clearly overcompensating. The music is pretty repetitive at first but in a comforting way, being simple in terms of number of instruments. And then Al comes in and changes it up. I love the way these two argue- Al just roasting the hell out of Vox was great. The rivalry between these two is great and so entertaining to watch.

2. Loser Baby- so cute. Keith David’s voice was amazing. Loved Angel and Husk’s chemistry. Angel’s shock/annoyance at Husk at first is hilarious. Also songs like that and Crooked (from Helluva Boss) really are saying something’s we really don’t hear often enough: that things are a mess sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. Both songs acknowledge the messy parts of the characters and both say “I see that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.” Plus it being in the same episode as Poison? Their messages complimented each other well and kind of closed the story for it.

3. Poison- Blake Roman is just- wow. No words. When this song came out a couple weeks ago I had it on repeat obsessively. We get to see Angel’s internal thoughts- his self-blaming for all the shit that’s happening, and how hopeless he feels. The emotion poured into this is astounding. It was amazing as a stand-alone song, and then the way the show integrated it in episode 4 made it hit even harder. It’s definitely A LOT- but sometimes that’s what makes such hard hitting songs, being so personal.

4. Hell is Forever- Alex Brightman killed it as always. I listened to this one on repeat dozens of times. It’s so insanely catchy. The rock(?) music that comes in to cut Charlie off? Also this song nails in the fact even more than Adam SUCKS. And while this is happening we are delivered the logic behind the angel’s choices- explicitly saying “yeah we don’t care. Murder is fun :)” AND are given the information about major conflict of season- that the extermination day for moved up.

5. Respectless- got brain worms from this. The way Velvette dropped in and changed the whole genre of the song was A W E S O M E. Her and Carmilla both SLAPPED. Also the line “I’m the backbone of the Vees” was just- I just loved the energy of the song. Major Six vibes. I’d love Lilli Cooper to sing more in the show!

[themillsdaughter]

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

[transmascaraa]

Idk how to write this but

Reader is so lost in being a people pleaser, they no longer defend themselves when being insulted

(like, someone saying "I wish you could just shut up and never speak again" to them seriously, and them clearly hurt, would still laugh as if what the person said was a joke etc)

🫶🫶

multiple characters headcannons!

you're a people-pleaser...

characters: lyney, gaming, tighnari x gn!reader

author's note: WHY ARE YOUR REQUESTS LITERALLY ME😭😭 i love them tho‼️ ENJOY READING<33 (random writing motivation smh)

☆ Lyney

-off-topic but the lucille font looks so beautiful with lyney's name

-ANYWAYS

-speaking from experience, people-pleasing sucks.

-and to overcome it, you need somebody's support, because you most likely won't be able to do it on your own.

-sometimes, it can only take a few kind words to break out of it.

-and he will be the one who will help you.

-since i hc him as a people-pleaser too, playing the role as the "big brother" to protect his siblings and please 'father' because he's occupied to do so,

-yes, he does genuinely care about his siblings, but he sometimes goes too far just to be sure.

-so, back to him helping you, he'll always remind you that you're your own person, that you're not alive to just please others.

-you don't owe them anything, so why do you do it?

-nonetheless he will give his all to praise you and remind you that you're perfect just the way you are, and that you shouldn't change for anyone except for yourself.

-sometimes, if you're about to make a choice you clearly don't want, he'll gladly choose for you and say that you're just indecisive.

-"you're hurting yourself for others, it's not good. you're you, unique."

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

✯ Gaming

-similar to lyney, except for the fact that he isn't a people-pleaser himself.

-you probably wouldn't even need to tell him anything, he'd realize it on his own.

-your every single day would be filled with millions of praises about how you're unique on your own.

-how you shouldn't listen to others.

-how you only live once.

-soon enough, you'd probably break down to him many times about it(like you probably would to anyone)

-and when you've listened to his praises and reminders enough, you'd slowly get better and better at actually being yourself.

-yes, of course it would take some time, of course it can't happen overnight, but he'll wait.

-he'll be patient with you.

-he won't rush you.

-all he cares about is that in the end, you'd finally put an end to it.

-and trust me, it would come sooner than expected.

-"you're nobody's toy or puppet for them to play with. you're your own person, [name]."

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

✿ Tighnari

-get ready for the biggest mom ever.

-he would realize on his own, not like he wouldn't notice you choosing to work for the whole night rather than rest, especially because it was requested by someone you hate.

-AND IT WAS SOMETHING OPTIONAL.

-he's not dumb, he will notice.

-he'll literally call you to the living room for some "serious talk" one day and it would actually get you worried.

-then, he will start lecturing you about it and how bad it is for you and your health.

-you actually start feeling bad for him... he cares about you so much and everything while you aren't even happy yourself... you let others walk over you while you laugh at the pain.

-once he realizes that you started feeling bad, he'll apologize for coming off as rude or mean, even if you confront him that it's okay afterwards.

-he'll start reminding you about all the reasons why you shouldn't do it, but he won't rush you, he'll let you take your time.

-it may take you a but longer, but it will come eventually.

-every morning, he will put a new quote on the bathroom mirror just for you.

-quotes as in "live laugh love", "keep on going!", "you can do it!", "be yourself!", etc.

-"you don't live to please anyone, no matter how important they are. you're just fine on your own."

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

I LOVE THIS

writing motivation hits different fr

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT^^

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

previous | story masterlist | next

“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 

“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.

You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 

Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 

“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 

Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 

You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 

Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 

“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 

“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 

“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 

“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 

“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.

“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 

More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 

Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.

You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 

“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 

Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”

“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 

“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”

“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 

You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 

“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 

Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 

“Come with you?” 

“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 

You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.

“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 

“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”

Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 

“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 

“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 

Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 

You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 

You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 

“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 

Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 

Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 

“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 

You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 

“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 

You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 

It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 

“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 

“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 

The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 

Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 

“...gramps, come on.” 

Uh-oh.

You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 

Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 

You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 

While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 

Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 

With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 

Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”

He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.

Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 

…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 

“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 

“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”

Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 

The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 

It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 

You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 

Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.

It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.

“...who are you?”

You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 

“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 

He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.

Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…

You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 

Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 

Yeah.

You must have just been imagining things. 

“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 

Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 

The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 

“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 

He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 

Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.

There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 

…or is it?

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[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Later that day

I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?

I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.

Friday (11:30 am)

I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

Friday (12:50 pm)

I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)

Friday (15:26 pm)

I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)

My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.

            Saturday (9:09 am)

I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)

            Saturday (17:40 pm)

I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?

I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.

“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.

“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.

“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.

“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.

“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.

“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.

But I couldn’t.

            Sunday (1:01 am)

I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

『When you came along, I knew what was wrong

If you want to know exactly what I've missed』

            Monday (present time)

            It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.

I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.

“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”

“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”

“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”

Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.

“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.

“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.

“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”

“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.

“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”

“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”

“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.

“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.

“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”

“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”

“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”

I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”

“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.

“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”

“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”

“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.

“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.

The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.

And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.

“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.

“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.

“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”

“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”

“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.

“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”

“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”

“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.

“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”

“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”

“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”

“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”

When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”

“Can we stop talking about Min—”

“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.

“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.

“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—

“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”

“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.

“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.

“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.

“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.

“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”

A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.

“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.

            Monday (16:58 pm)

I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))

            Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!

And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.

As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.

Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it.  And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?

“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”

And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.  

“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”

“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”

“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”

I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”

“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.

“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.

“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”

“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.

“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”

“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.

“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.

“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.

“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”

“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.

“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.

“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.

“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”

“It was my idea to come here—”

“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”

Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”

“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.

“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.

I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.

“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.

“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.

“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”

“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”

“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.

“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.

“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”

“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.

“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.

“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.

“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”

I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”

“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.

“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”

“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.

            Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.

“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.

“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.

“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”

“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.

“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”

“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.

“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”

“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.

“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”

“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”

“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”

“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”

Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.

“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”

When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”

“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”

Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”

There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?

“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.

“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”

“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.

“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”

“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”

“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”

“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”

“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.

“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.

“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”

“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”

“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.

“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”

When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.

“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.

I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.

“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”

“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.

“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’

I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.

“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.

“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.

“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.

“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.

“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.

“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.

“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”

“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.

“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.

I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.

Have I started falling for Song Mingi?

『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

You're what I've been chasing

Show me where my days went』

❱❱ Next chapter

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))

I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol

also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^

[olderthannetfic]

In 21 years of writing fanfic, I had never had a comment genuinely make me feel frustrated and exasperated enough to rant. That ended yesterday, with someone getting annoyed by my use of the word 'minor' in a story. Bruh. A character who is a lawyer is going to differentiate between minors and adults because the law treats them very differently. I don't know how it works abroad, but in the United States, the law does factor age into things. A 4 or 14 or 24 year old have different levels of responsibility for their actions/capacity to understand their actions and therefore culpability in a court of law.

"Minors is insulting! Say kids!" This dude is a lawyer. He canonically says "minors" and "adults" in the source material. The character is referring to is a teen, not a child, also. Teens are, depending on the situation, usually not legally treated as adults in a court of law. They are, in criminal cases, treated differently from a child who is a preteen. Again, 4 and 14 are massively different ages cognitively and developmentally.

"I hate when people call kids teens or minors. It's degrading language." Teen means 13 to 19. Minor means under the age of majority, which in the country canon is set in is 18 years of age. 5/7ths of teens are under the age of majority. All of them are teens.

"Making him say minors feels predatory like he's not even acknowledging that's an actual whole-ass child!" He is not calling the 14 year old an adult. He is not preying on them. Legal documents from papers to the law to statements make this difference noted not because all these people wanna bang the 14 year old but because 14 is not an adult.

"Why can't he just say kid like a normal person?" Because kid is not a legal term. Child, defined as under 13 or under 18 depending on the law, does sometimes pop up, but you'll see the word minors a lot all over US law. Everywhere. All the time.

And before someone says, "ugh, the commenter must be an annoying teen/kid/minor", while you'd like to hope so, I saw their fandom tumblr (same name) pop up in a reblog of a post and clicked on the bio.

They're 35, soon to be 36. This isn't a 19 year old arguing teens are kids because seeing how teens act at his college has convinced him these aren't adults (which would be a fair argument; I have seen some silly, silly freshman, living three blocks from the university). This is someone old enough to have a teenager arguing that "minor" and "teen" are somehow morally wrong words to use.

I genuinely do try not to use offensive language unless it's in-character. I don't write everyone as a snarky MCU style everything-is-a-joke you-suck-lmao jackass. But this is in-character. And more than that, this is how people talk every single day in the real world and have for centuries.

This is the only truly can't-get-it-out-of-my-head baffling comment I've ever gotten. My comment luck has always been great, but I guess it had to run out sometime. (Not that I haven't had rude comments. It's just that the rudeness made sense in what the person hated.)

--

[zhenne]

watching from afar | route two : a confession

[ intro ]

syn. Zayne doesn’t like that silver-haired man you accompanied to the gala, and he’s intent to remind you that you already have someone who can satiate your every need. What would he be if not for the good doctor looking after his patient’s wellbeing?

wc. 3.8k (help)

warnings. smut!! (mdni), dubcon but not really, probably ooc, possessive Zayne (my beloved), semi-public sex, car sex (again hehe), marking, unestablished relationship, mentions of alcohol, pre-existing fling!, oral (f!receiving), petnames & praise (good girl, cute, pretty), Zayne steals your panties hehehe, grinding, bit of titty sucking, fingering/fondling, begging, implied ending bc it was already too long (and suck at endings), not proofread (we die like men)

now playing : the replacement

Zayne didn’t like that Sylus guy. Not. A. Single. Bit. The silver haired man oozed bad intentions and even worse was his silver tongue that seemed so ready to quell any suspicions with a smoothed over half-truth. Zayne didn’t like Sylus, and he especially hated the way he touched you, too casual and familiar for his liking. 

He most definitely isn’t a good character, and the thought alone of someone like him corrupting you made Zayne’s skin crawl and his lips twist into a disapproving frown.

You notice the lines creased into Zayne’s forehead, “Is everything okay?” You tilt your head to the side, eyes scanning his face, worry etched into your own. “Are you not feeling well? We can go back if you want.”

You were still savoring your first drink of the evening when Zayne had invited you on a strolling tour of the event venue. Your walk had led you to a quieter wing of the building, one that the hospital sometimes uses for hosting bi-annual banquets, according to your guide. However, your self-appointed tour guide is suddenly quiet now as you try to sneak a glimpse of his expression. 

Zayne blinks and seems to catch himself from his thoughts, offering you a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m okay. Just got lost in thought for a moment.”

You give him a small pout, not fully believing his words. “There’s something bothering you,” you finally bite the bullet. You’ve known Zayne long enough to make sense of most of his tells, and right now, he was either overthinking, or there was something nagging at the back of his mind.

In this scenario, it would be the latter. 

You decide not to push too much, opting to instead change the subject to try and bring him back to you. “Back in the main hall, when I was at the bar,” you continued to walk alongside him through a hall of large windows, some tilted open to and framed with decadent curtains that seemed to billow in the breeze like wisps of clouds. “How’d you even know it was me from all the way over there?”

He seems to think on it for a moment, a faint smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “I was talking with Greyson, but he kept getting distracted by someone in a beautiful dress sitting alone…” he cast a sidelong glance at you as you both continued to slowly pace the corridor, the sound of your heels softly echoing down the empty walls. “So I suppose we could technically say I wasn’t the one who noticed you first, but I’m glad I came over when I did. A pretty girl like you is bound to attract attention.” 

The shift in his tone was minute, but you caught it. And your stomach stirred with butterflies at what he was undoubtedly insinuating. 

“You make it sound as though I’m looking for trouble.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “that’s why you should be careful who you spend time with.”

You’re about to try and change the subject again, but the smooth timbre of his voice beats yours out. “I’m sure I don’t need to lecture you on the dangers of bad company corrupting those with good character, do I?”

You both stop walking as he turns to face you, his stoic expression unreadable in the dim light. The noises of the party were muted, a chorus of unintelligible chatter that barely reached your ears. The sound of your blood rushing through your veins was all you could hear as you stared up at the reputable doctor. “Sylus is a good man-”

Zayne’s eyes narrowed, “Then why do I get the feeling he’s nothing but bad news – someone that will only cause trouble for you?”

You suck in a breath, hands balling at your sides as the room’s silence now becomes almost deafening. “I don’t think that’s a fair assum-”

“I never claimed to be fair.” His cold tone cuts you off, making your lips snap shut. “But I’m not foolish enough to think he’s good for you.”

You hold your breath, something akin to indignation stirring within your chest. “What? So I should be with someone like you? Is that what you're trying to say?” You suddenly fume, brows furrowed with exasperation. The moment the words slipped past your lips, regret stung your tongue. You hold up a hand between you, tone suddenly detached, “You know what, no. This isn’t a conversation we should be having.”

You turn on your heels to begin walking back in the direction of the main foyer, set on forgetting this conversation even happened, but a cold palm reaches for your wrist with a resolute firmness. 

“Is the thought of being with me really that bad?”

Your heart clenches when you finally meet his gaze. The sincerity of his voice and conflicted hurt swimming in his irises had your breath hitching. “Zayne…” you begin, uncertain, “we really shouldn’t-”

“Please,” his voice was quiet, but the edge remained there, “I just need to know your answer.” His hand released your wrist, his cool touch ghosting over your cheek as his palm cradles your face. His hazel eyes bore into you, silently pleading for your explanation. 

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

You swallow, wanting to shrink away from his searching eyes. Zayne’s thumb holds your chin, the pad of his finger brushing against the plush of your bottom lip. His voice was just above a whisper, low and raw, “Because I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to watch him touch you again.”

The sudden admission left you wide-eyed and heart pounding. Your mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, but no sound came out. You merely gaped up at Zayne as he studied your expression. 

You had always found him attractive. How could you not? He was irresistibly handsome, successful, and not to mention incredibly sweet. He was the total package. But both your professions were demanding, and you’re lucky to see him once a week, if that. The fallout and looming repercussions made you hesitate. Even without the unclear intentions of Sylus, your emotions were as clear as mud. 

A shaky breath slips past your lips. “Zayne, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you.. It’s just..”

“Is it your colleague? Then forget about him. He’s nothing but trouble anyway.” His thumb caresses your lip again, the look in his eyes sparking a warm jolt down your spine. Your eyelids threaten to dip as his head nudges closer, the tip of his nose tickling yours. You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he whispers, “Quite frankly, I’d rather take you for myself than let you become someone else’s.”

If kissing Zayne was anything, it’s determined. His touch was persistent in how his lips claimed yours. The intensity had you taking a few half steps backwards until your shoulders hit a wall, Zayne quickly pressing his chest to yours, keeping you anchored as the kiss grew heated. 

Your hands grip at his suit jacket, pulling him impossibly closer as his mouth slots over yours, the kiss devolving into a showcase of desperation – of shared breaths, smudged lipstick, and a restrained mess of spit and tongue. You pull back, just enough to take in Zayne’s expression. You blink softly, hesitant when you see his eyes shining with turmoil. 

“What’s wrong?” A breathless remorse.

The edges of his lips quirk up, nose bumping against yours as he gently holds your hips. “There is absolutely nothing wrong,” he mutters, his lips brushing yours, “except that I want you terribly.” 

It takes everything in you not to whine at the desperation in his tone, a mirror of your own. His breath fans across the shell of your ear as he shifts to whisper against the side of your neck. “You thought the man in front of you was kind and gentle, didn’t you?” His teeth gently nip at your earlobe as his breath tickles the skin of your neck. “But every time you smiled at him, I went mad with jealousy.” 

Your body felt hot. Your pulse thrummed like electricity through your nerves, kindling a heat in your core at his possessive gruffness – you’ve never seen Zayne like this, and it made an undeniable excitement course through you. 

Your head falls back when you feel Zayne’s thigh slot itself between your legs, the tension between you growing hot as your mutual compulsion becomes apparent. He pulls away suddenly, eyes dark as he stares down at your flushed face, warm breath tickling your lips.

“Do you remember Yvonne’s wedding?” You’re momentarily stunned. He invited you to accompany him as his plus one to the wedding in spring, what could he possibly be.. Oh- “Do you remember how many dances we shared before we found ourselves back at my hotel room?” His whispered words sent a chill down your spine. “Do you remember the way I held you then?”

Your entire body is alight with a feverish haze, recollection stirring your memories. “Y-Yes..” you offer, meek.

“Won’t you let me do it again?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the longing in his raspy plea. You’re still aware enough to pay mind to your surroundings, uncertainty in your quiet voice. “But the others.. Sylus.. Won’t they notice?”

Zayne’s face dips back into the crook of your neck, a warm puff of breath has your own hitching as his lips press a soft wet kiss to the skin. “You keep saying his name…” he almost growls, matter-of-factly. There’s a gentle bite of his canines against your throat. “I want to hear you say mine instead.”

You swallow, fighting the urge to clench your thighs together at the possessive rumble in his chest. Your hips shift, your core catching on his thigh just enough to prompt your lip between your teeth. “Z-Zayne.. please,” you murmur, chin dipping down as heat pooled in your core and lit up your cheeks.

A gentle hand brings your vision back to his face. Even in your current state you watch with rapt attention as his gaze drops down to your lips before the tip of his tongue wets his own. Your cunt spasms involuntarily at the display. Then, finally – finally, you feel his body press into yours, occupying each of your senses as your back is pressed flush to the wall and his hips cage yours. 

He kisses you like a man starved, hungry for an affection only you could provide. His tongue licks into your mouth with a fervent deprivation. Strong, precise hands grip your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the contours of your hipbones as he rocks himself against you. 

You respond in kind, shifting your body so your uncomfortably slick cunt could brush against the seam of his zipper with each pass. Quiet, breathy mewls fill the otherwise silent space. You would have half the mind to make him take you somewhere people couldn’t freely walk into. But you were in no such state of mind, and you doubted you truly cared at this point.

Your quickly quieting thoughts were careened from your mind altogether when Zayne pulls away from your lips, his own cheeks dusted with a tinge of warmth as he began to kneel down in front of you. You’re about to question him, but your palm quickly flies over your mouth when a caressing palm nudges your legs apart. A head of dark hair brushes against your thighs, soft breaths fanning over your thin dress nearly enough to have your knees buckling.

“Say you’ll let me..” the throaty whisper makes your skin tingle and heart stutter. A strangled whimper slips past your lips as he pushes the skirt of your dress to the side, bunching it into his palm, finally able to admire your needy cunt. 

Your own plea is even needier, “Fuck.. please, touch me, Zayne-”

You shudder when he presses a thumb to your clothed slit, observant eyes watching the way your slick soaked through your panties with an appreciative hum. He does it two more times before finally satiating the carnal need to taste you on his tongue. “So wet already…”

The hand that was covering your mouth flies to grasp a handful of his hair, your eyes rolling back when the man below you groans into your sopping folds. “Still so sweet...” He eats you out through your drenched panties like you were his favorite sweet, a decadent candy for his tongue alone. Each flick of his warm tongue threatened to have your legs giving out from beneath you. And if it weren’t for the gripping vice Zayne had your hip pinned in, you likely would have.

His tongue teases against your entrance through your ruined panties until he finally has enough and forces himself to separate from your sweet cunt. Even in the obscured light, you can make out the faint shine of his lips and chin, a sight that has you whimpering. While you’re admiring your new favorite appearance of the stoic doctor, Zayne deftly slides your panties down your legs before stuffing the soiled garment in his suit pocket.

Any attempt to question him died as soon as you felt his lips experimentally kiss along your bare pussy. And god, the moan that ricocheted off the walls when he pressed the flat of his tongue into your seeping entrance made his dick throb painfully in the confines of his slacks. You would’ve thought he had no shame with the way he unabashedly slurped your juices, the lewd sounds only making your cunt flutter at the prospect of being caught in such a compromising position, with the esteemed Dr. Zayne no less.

“You look so pretty like this..” he murmurs against your skin, warm breath puffing against your slit. His lips suction around your poor clit, dark eyes staring up at you with an unmatched intensity. “Such a good girl.”

You’re close, you can feel it – that tight, hot coil in your stomach waiting to snap. You tug on the hair in your hand, thighs trembling with the exertion of keeping upright. You breathily chant his name like a mantra to a dying god, ‘ZayneZayneZayneZayne-’, hips moving on their own accord to grind against his face. Your head falls back when the ridge of his nose catches the hood of your clit in a moment of blinding ecstasy.

In a display of pure debauchery, you come with a loud whine on your doctor’s tongue. Zayne groans into your cunt as he feels the way you spasm against his mouth, his tongue fucking into you clenching hole as you ride out your climax. It takes you keening with overstimulation to pull his mouth away from your pussy, and the drunken gleam in his eyes involuntarily sends a jolt through your core. 

Zayne quietly stands, wiping the back of his hand over the mess you left on his chin before fixing and smoothing the front of your dress. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, the action feeling suddenly out of place considering he just gave you the best head of your life. 

You're still panting softly as he brushes his nose from your cheek to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Your palms feel warm against his chest as he begins to trail lazy kisses from your jaw to your neck. He stops when his lips reach the hem of your dress, your cleavage looking too inviting to ignore. You swear you hear him murmur something inaudible before he’s sucking a mark on the spot. 

You make a poor attempt at trying to stop him, but can’t bring yourself to push him away. He’s pulled the top of your dress down, a perfect hiding spot of his own. You can’t help but chase after the feeling as his mouth finally leaves your blemished skin.

It feels keenly intimate, the way he admires the little bruise – proof that he was here, he was with you. You chuckle softly when you feel his forehead drop against the curve of your shoulder. “Feeling better?”

His fingers grip your waist tentatively, sighing against your skin. “I’d feel better if you let me leave another,” his fingertips brush over the faint red mark freshly painted, a hushed whisper with the hint of gruff jealousy still lingering. You shift slightly against him, freezing when he groans almost painfully.

You glance down at the obviously hard bulge in his pants. You poke a manicured nail into the muscle of his bicep, chin dipping to try and catch his gaze. “You want help with that?”

A breathy chuckle graces your ears before he’s humming against the shell of your ear, “I’d much rather take you home..” Suddenly, the noises of the forgotten party were bustling, more alive than ever. You blush, acutely aware of how possible it would be for someone, especially a certain someone, to find you like this. “Besides,” Zayne murmurs, a hidden promise lying in his words, “staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

–

You aren’t sure how you managed to slip from the party unnoticed, but you’re silently thanking every deity you know while Zayne has you draped across the backseat of his car. You had shot Sylus a quick message before tossing your phone in your small clutch, which is very much discarded and forgotten somewhere on the floor of the car. 

‘I started to feel a bit queasy from the drinks, so I’m stepping outside for some fresh air. Text me when your meeting is done.’ 

It’s cramped with Zayne’s broad frame crowding the limited space. Your legs were hooked over his thigh and hip, nearly bent in half. The pretty dress, the one Sylus had bought for you, was now a disheveled bundle of silk bunched in Zayne’s palms as he pushed the fabric up past your waist, brandishing your bare cunt to him with a low groan. His lips hadn’t left yours since he slammed the car door shut. 

The throaty desperation in Zayne’s voice pushes any of the remaining guilt from your forethought. 

He’s noticed your slight cues of apprehension, “Am I going too fast?” And god… the damn near pained intonation of his words sent a jolt of heat through you. 

You offer a small grin against the ghost of his lips, “What happened to ‘taking me home’?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer.” 

You breathe out, your hand cupping his jaw as he just barely withdraws from your lips. You search his eyes, your heart beating wildly in your chest. You knew he could read you like an open book, could see every gear turn one click at a time as you weighed the possible collaterals looming in the near future. 

He softly brushed his lips against yours, letting a calm lull of silence fall between you, only your soft puffs of breath could be heard as he stared down into your eyes. “You deserve to be loved.” Your lips part, as if to say something – to disagree, to counter, testify – but he stops you, thumb pressing down gingerly on your bottom lip. “And he couldn’t love you like I do.” 

He could see the lingering doubt, the fear, mingling in the depths of your irises, in the way the corners of your mouth twitched, tentative. You can feel his length, hard and straining against the pitch in his slacks, press against your thigh. Your face was feverish when you finally allowed yourself to pull him by the neck, slotting your lips against his to silence your own rampant thoughts.

A sharp whine pierces from your mouth when two cold fingers make contact with your pussy, smearing the mess of arousal as they stroke languid shapes through your folds. Zayne smirks against your lips at the sound. “Mm..” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically slurred, “Cute…”

You feel like your mind is utterly blank. You haven’t even had his cock, and yet you’re already this teary-eyed for him. You wriggle your hips, coaxing his fingers to apply more pressure where you needed it most. Zayne holds your hips down with one hand, pulling back to lock eyes with you, his gaze predatory. “I don’t want anyone else to know the sounds you make… so please, let this be a secret you only share with me.”

You know what he’s saying, what’s being offered, the faintest hint of possessiveness just under the surface. And the temptation to open Pandora’s Box was all too seductive. 

“Yes, Zayne,” you breathe out, “ ‘m yours..”

With a pleased hum, the man above you drags your hips down the plush of the seat until they meet the solid strength of his hips. Your eyes roll back from the way his pants immediately soak with your slick, his cock grinding into your heat with a tenacity that has you choking on a moan. You grip his bicep in your palm, fingernails surely leaving marks through his dress shirt while he all but fucks you through his own clothes. 

It was humiliating how good it felt – to have the distinguished Dr. Zayne making a mess of you in the backseat of his luxury car. The thin straps of your dress were slipping off the dip of your shoulders, catching Zayne’s eyes as he drags one strap past your elbow, your already-marked breast finally revealed to his hungry admiration. 

“Oh, fuck!” You mewl loudly when a warm pair of lips latch over the sensitive flesh, tongue laving a lewd kiss to the pebbled bud. “Wait, wait.. Don’t stop..” you drawl out, voice wavering.

You feel Zayne chuckle against your skin, “I’m going to need you to make up your mind, darling.” 

Your head rolls against the seat, chest heaving. You knew what you wanted, the ache in your core pulsing with a dull pain. “Please. Stop teasing me." 

"You need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

You could whine, cry even, with how unbearably pent up and desperate you are. The little touches, teasing words, and depravity of it all made you embarrassingly delirious. “God-” your hand slinks to the back of his neck, fingers dragging across the skin before pulling yourself up on your elbow, “fuck me already, please.”

The smirk that accompanied your plea, was unlike anything you’d ever seen on him before as he whispered, warm breath tickling your lips, “As you wish.”

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hello! I just finished reading all your writing.. i feel like your characterisation of coop is just so good!

Lately i’ve been fixated on how Cooper would feel about a plus sized partner.. (definitely not just because I’m plus sized myself)

Part of me feels his postwar ghoul self would be feral (pardon the pun) for a woman with a soft squishy body, especially a soft tummy and ass he can sink his fingers into, because someone like that would be so rare in the wastelands, and because it would be so different to his own physique

(Anon, I have a secret to share with you before we even get into headcanon territory; I'm a size 14-16ish, myself, so I definitely relate. I try to keep my reader-insert characters as nondescript as is reasonable in order to keep them accessible, but honestly? Every single character I've ever written is fat, or at least midsized. I feel like my use of words like "soft" and "plush" to describe them, plus references to tummies and bellies, might expose me a bit on that front. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!)

Prewar!Cooper Howard just loves women in general, all shapes and sizes. Big fan. He appreciates the female form in every one of its many variations. Back home, he knew plenty of bigger girls, curvier girls, and dated several before he met and fell head over heels for Barb. Once the two of them move to California, there's a noticeable decline in the variation of body types around him, and while he finds the women around him beautiful as well, he also finds himself sort of missing the higher concentration of softer ladies.

After she gives birth to Janey, Barb is pretty self-conscious about her body, but Cooper is quick to reassure her that she is just as beautiful as she was before (even moreso to him since she's grown softer in such nice places, frankly, but he doesn't think that's a proper thing to say out loud). She experiences a lot of pressure to be conventionally thin in her role as an executive, and while he supports her ambitions and what she wants to do with herself, it makes him feel terrible to see her so down on her body sometimes when he loves her (and it) so much.

Post-divorce, I think that a bigger partner, especially someone comfortable in their looks, their personal style, would be a welcome change to him. Like I said in my response to the question about him with a partner with body hair, I think he'd enjoy being with someone who wasn't so "L.A. perfect"; more authentic, at least to him.

He really loves a soft belly on a woman, and it's a treat that's been denied to him for so long. Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you in whatever form he can get it, but he also likes to spurt all over your breasts and tummy, the sight of the mess cooling on your skin enough to get him going again more often than not. It drives him doubly crazy if you play in it a bit.

Also likes a good tit fuck. Likes it even more if you've got big enough breasts to do it while you sit on the floor in front of him. Getting to smoke a cigarette and sit back and watch you jerk him off with your tits is high up on his list of favorite ways to relax after a stressful day, especially if you tease the head of his cock with your lips and tongue.

Finds big nipples/big areolas very sexy; if you've got either (and definitely if you've got both), you might end up having to fend him off of your chest every once in a while with as often as he'll like to suck and lick and nip the poor things until they're all puffy and sore.

Enjoys using his ability to still pick you up and toss you around as a way to show off to you. It makes him feel virile and strong, so I hope you don't mind a little manhandling from time to time...

The Ghoul is always very pleasantly surprised to see anyone with some substance to them, physically; it's not necessarily that fat or midsize people don't exist, but the incidence of folks who are malnourished, stunted, and emaciated has certainly increased as the centuries have crept by.

He has always been a fairly lean and wiry guy, and life has given him more and more hard edges, so he adores a plush partner; round face, full lips, soft overall features. Big, soft hair, even. It's such a fascinating contrast to himself, to everything around him. The Wasteland is so harsh and strips every last bit of life it can out of every last thing that inhabits it, so to see someone so vivacious and supple...you are spellbinding to him before he even gets to touch you, to say the least.

When he does get to touch you, he wants to be respectful, trying his hardest to control his urge to rip your clothes away and grip your supple skin in his bare hands. He's trying so hard to reconnect with the more tender, gentlemanly part of himself, if it even still exists. But you seemingly have no idea how wild you drive him, how badly he wants to pin you down and feel your warm, pliable form beneath his, kind and sweetly flirty as ever despite how thin his self control is wearing. It's not long before the feeling he's trying to ignore consumes you both and he becomes intimately familiar with just how soft your body really is.

The man already had a breeding kink long ago, but it comes back with a vengeance if he meets the right person. He already finds himself drawn to your wide hips and thick thighs, but once he's fallen for you, once he's decided that you're his and he wants you to be his forever, they take on a whole new light. All he can think about his how good those wide hips would feel in his hands as he pumps you full, how beautiful your little tummy would look adorned with a baby bump.

Big fan of thigh-fucking, especially if you're not particularly rad-resistant; its a nice way for him to put you on your back, your legs on his shoulders the way he likes, pumping away at you in a way that feels natural without having to worry about making you incredibly sick or hurting you if he can't pull out in time. Or if he produces a lot of precum, which he is prone to. You both love and hate it, the head of him bumping and teasing against your clit depending on the angle, but never stimulating you enough to make you cum yourself. Fortunately, he's quite faithful about planting his head between your thighs and finishing you off once he's done.

If you are rad resistant, he still loves it; in fact, he loves it even more because he can fuck your thighs until he's about to finish, and instead of coating your stomach and mound, he can shove his weeping cock inside you at the last second and breed you, the sudden, wet heat around him making him cum even harder. Best of both worlds.