#having said that if anyone DOES have normal responses or questions i really love history and i have a lot of resources

[butchladymaria]

[pineappleciders]

hi guys. i don't like to make posts like this but i figure i'd just want to clear some things up

first things first, i do not support OMOCAT and please get off my page if you do.

i know a lot of people are going to tell me that it was a long time ago. and i know. i know that people change and i do have faith that OMOCAT doesn't do the stuff she did anymore, but that isn't my problem

if you aren't aware of the extent of what she's said, it wasn't just the shota shirt. here are some ss of deleted tweets from 2012-2014.

if you're wondering, she has made an apology about the shirt she made about a year after she released it, stating that the definition had changed since then and she felt it was no longer appropriate

basically her whole thing was that it didn't mean that to her, and that it just meant little boy

and, to be quite honest, in this situation i don't care what 'shota' means, because either way it doesn't make her look any better. making a shirt with a picture of an anime boy with the words 'little boy' on it isn't much of an improvement.

and what's worse is her tweets. again, 'little boy underwear' doesn't sound any better than 'shota underwear'. in her tweet as of nov 2013, BEFORE the shirt was removed, she made the tweet that said,

'what does shota mean' 'uh'

i feel this pretty much implies that she knows in a lot of circumstances it has some sort of sexual connotation to it. and the tweet about people flipping their shit when they see her shota underwear???

a grown woman tweeting about 'how she doesn't like *all* little boys but thinking about her 3rd grade crush makes her flustered* is just straight out pedophilia, u cannot deny that this is weird af

i dislike cancel culture. i don't think people should have their lives ruined for making mistakes, but this was not a mistake. saying 'omori is hot wow good shota' about a 12 year old character she created isn't really something u can just bounce back from imo

the thing about the underwear and her apology only being about the shirt is the most gross to me. i think it's apparent that even if she didn't think shota is an erotic word, she obviously knew that other people felt it was and these were her responses.

i'm just posting all of this because i think people seriously underestimate the situation,, and i also don't want anyone thinking i support her in any way. i love OMORI with all of my heart and it rlly sucks to see the creator of it say this kind of shit

again, i know it was a long time ago but the thing is she never apologized for the tweets (as far as i'm aware) and only for the shirt, which ngl was kind of half-assed considering she only said 'i didn't know what it meant' (either way, in what world is selling a shirt that says 'little boy' on it reasonable?)

i don't want to reach, but i think her treatment of HERO in the game is also questionable. the adult women in the game fawn over him and SWEETHEART literally preys on him??? and the way the slime girls treat the boys is questionable imo. i wouldn't say this about a normal game but considering OMOCATs history this is strange to me.

anyways ill wrap this up by saying please do not interact if you support omocat!!

[matan4il]

I really feel that Buck's increasingly controversial declaration that Natalia 'was different' because 'she saw him' was in direct response to Eddie questioning his decision to see someone he met on a call again. Buck's literally reassuring Eddie that Natalia isn't Ali who didn't realize that firefighting was who he was, that he wasn't repeating the mess that was dating Taylor. His relationship with Eddie be it platonic or romantic is not part of the equation, they're literally talking about 2-3 women and if Natalia continues the pattern.

And there's no need to talk about Eddie seeing or understanding him, because their entire conversation in the cometary is a testament to how well Eddie knows him and and much he sees. He calls BS on Buck's normal act, he blatantly tells Buck that he doesn't have to pretend or fake anything which something so important with Buck's history and personality. And he questions the wisdom of continuing a relationship (platonic/romantic is not specified) with another woman he met on the job.

Honestly I think the importance of Buck's response is that he's no longer defending Taylor, Ali or Abby nor his relationships with them. Yes, deciding that Natalia is different may be premature and overstated but we've seen Buck decide he deserves better and we watched him decide to 'choose' better when he walked away from a relationship with Taylor. Just like Eddie's choosing to avoid another Ana-esq relationship, Buck wants to stop with the 'settling' and 'clinging'

Hi lovely! ^u^ How are you?

As I said in my 616 meta, I do believe (and therefore agree with you) that Buck in his mind is NOT comparing Natalia to Eddie or anyone else he CURRENTLY has in his life, because in his mind, none of those relationships are romantic, while she has the potential to be one. Plus, that Eddie very much demonstrates within that very conversation just how much he sees and gets Buck.

I do find it an interesting take, the idea that Buck says "No, she really sees me" as a counterpoint to the issue of meeting another potential LI on a call. Of course, that is NOT an actual counterpoint. The issue that Eddie points to is that your dynamic with someone you met on a call where you helped them starts with a certain fascination that isn't about you as a person, so much as about you as a (heroic) function. That's not a good foundation for a r/s. Plus, NOTHING we have seen so far from Natalia actually counters it, she very much does seem interested in Buck as a function, not as a person, though the function might be slightly more morbid than for most people developing on a crush on their rescuing hunky firefighter.

But I would say Buck trying to justify dating Natalia this way, even though we've seen with our own eyes that he's an unreliable narrator when he recounts their dynamic to Eddie, it is sort of 'clinging'. He sees there more than actually exists in the interaction (again, as we've seen it so far), a bit like how he seemed to think of Taylor as being a better person than she actually was. Or thinking Ali was more committed to him than she was willing to be. I do hope we see him this time discontinue this direction faster than with past r/s.

Thank you for this ask! Have a beautiful day. As always, here's my ask tag. xoxox

[hopeswriting]

(smallcornerofblue) Kawahira being a Mist User, a powerful and ancient one at that, brought an answer to question I had which is; Why no one knew beforehand about the Arcobaleno? While Bermuda said that each ritual of choosing have time between them to have that info to fade, I believe Kawahira had a hand to it. It is possible that he erased not only writings but also minds. Minds being wiped can indirectly affect the history of mankind, especially if they hold high positions of power or related to them. So I wouldn't be surprised if he's indirectly responsible for creating dark and somber moments in history which helps create more flame users. Another cycle attached to another cycle. After all in his mind, small sacrifices are needed.

hi there, thank you for the ask!

ohohoho, this is dark and i love it, you KNOW i'm here for it, thank you for dropping this in my inbox. the more fucked up we can make the arco curse to be, and the more i'm all here for it tbh lol.

but anyway, yeah, agreed!! personally what i've always gone with is that kawahira normalizes the curse--or, well, not the curse itself because the more it remains an absolute secret the better it is, but he normalizes the fact that every generation seven babies pop up who also happen to be the world's strongest. and in this case i feel like just letting enough time pass between each arco generation would be enough to keep the whole curse thing a secret because no one feels like digging into normal stuff, right? into stuff that has been the norm for as long as anyone can remember. in fact no one would even think to think twice about it, or connect dots that may already be there "hiding" in plain sight.

that plus kawahira erasing their life as adults when they're cursed while/or attributing everything they did before they were cursed to their baby form. which i think is safer than erasing minds because like you said that can be tricky and have tricky consequences, but in this case he'd just mess up with only seven existences among billions, tho of course that'd still have its consequences because it's not like they were living in a vacuum. but there'd definitely be fewer consequences than him messing up with everyone in the world, right?

that said, i think wiping minds (and writings and any trace of the curse at all) worldwide between each arco generation works just as well, if not better and easier, and also i just really love the idea. in fact in this thread @ mania-motherofsouls talked about it too and first introduced me to the idea! and i think it works really well especially when it comes to how kawahira managed to keep cursing arco post bermuda despite him presumably tirelessly trying to get in his way and stop that cycle.

(also talking about bermuda, do you think kawahira also did something to stop him to ever come in contact with arco to be/current arco in any way, shape or form? because one thing i've always wondered is why bermuda, as far as we can tell, never tried to warn the arco after him at the very least, or try to get them on his side to fight against kawahira like he does with reborn in canon? or has he been doing that all along, kawahira letting him like in canon, and--what? it just never worked out? but why not? like we know why it didn't work out in canon that one time, but what about all the other times if they were any?)

that part about kawahira creating flame users so to choose the strongest seven among them tho, hello, it's sooo good an idea!! it's like, the curse is already intrinsically linked with destiny what with the sky arco and the trinisette choosing/having rightful bearers, but with this there'd also be the idea of free will, or lack thereof.

okay just think about it with me for a bit, the chosen seven right? who make it to the top of the world through tears and sweat and blood, and likely through pain and loss and failures too, but they make it and then become the world's strongest, making all of it worth it, but then... turns out none of it was of their own free will, not entirely anyway... turns out they were only walking on a path someone else carefully laid out in front of them, guiding them on it with a hand on their shoulder they couldn't feel... turns out they might have walked entirely different paths, or made different choices, or lived different lives if it weren't for that hand on their shoulder...

like??? can you imagine finally making it to the top of the world at who knows what cost only to discover this? awesome. insane. tragic. i'm shaking and losing it and i love this idea so much, holy shit

(@echtach-messy-place i feel like you might like this)

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure 

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love. 

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules. 

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!] 

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ 

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life. 

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends. 

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space. 

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life. 

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him. 

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings. 

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you. 

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change. 

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history). 

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever. 

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one. 

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second. 

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table. 

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all. 

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking. 

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense. 

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.) 

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue. 

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?” 

Wrong. 

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend. 

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.) 

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull. 

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon. 

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak. 

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection. 

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was. 

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners. 

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him. 

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school) 

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time. 

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon. 

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you. 

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be. 

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t. 

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life. 

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you. 

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract. 

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we? 

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second. 

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.” 

Right. Of course. Obviously. 

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way. 

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know. 

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you. 

Yes, that’s it, just say no. 

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact. 

Jake does not say no. 

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another. 

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart. 

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.  

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.  

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting. 

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?  

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.  

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea. 

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you: 

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture. 

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world. 

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right? 

Spoken like a true simp. 

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously. 

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all. 

Wednesday, December 9th 

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well. 

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist. 

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.” 

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say. 

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself. 

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...” 

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good. 

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often. 

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush. 

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment. 

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking. 

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers. 

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun. 

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table. 

“I’m helping y/n study” 

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday” 

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?” 

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party? 

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime. 

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.” 

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes. 

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again. 

He then looks to you with puppy eyes. 

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you. 

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that. 

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought. 

Weird. 

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest. 

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.” 

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no. 

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party. 

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.” 

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.” 

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you. 

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay. 

Admittedly cute. 

Thursday, December 10th 

You are having a bad day. 

You’re having the mother of bad days. 

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due. 

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms. 

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse. 

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about. 

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal). 

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n. 

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done. 

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space. 

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays. 

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude. 

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone. 

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding” 

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is 

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? :// 

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today. 

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home. 

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures. 

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy. 

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue. 

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.” 

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in. 

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window. 

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door. 

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right? 

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats. 

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood. 

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.” 

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?” 

“Touché,” you click your tongue. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.  

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?” 

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously. 

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you. 

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?” 

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood. 

You nod at his answer. 

“You two make a good couple.” 

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.” 

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen. 

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say. 

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy. 

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.  

Jake. 

Weird. 

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.  

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.  

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.  

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.  

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.  

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing. 

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.  

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.  

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.  

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation. 

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.  

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.  

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"  

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.  

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.  

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon. 

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him. 

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you. 

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.” 

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show. 

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice. 

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand. 

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands. 

Hm. A little too familiar. 

Then, it clicks in his head. 

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?” 

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied. 

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table. 

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken. 

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?” 

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!” 

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him. 

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice. 

You break out of his trance and scoff at him. 

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well.  Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you. 

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.” 

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence. 

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute. 

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name. 

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place.   “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan. 

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts. 

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.” 

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it. 

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute. 

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being. 

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion. 

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind. 

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.” 

Friday, December 11th 

The party does not clear your mind. 

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school. 

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood. 

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway. 

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case. 

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings). 

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news. 

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people. 

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.  

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap. 

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously. 

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive. 

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you. 

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth. 

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.) 

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons. 

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no. 

But he sure can be awkward. 

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him. 

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you. 

Bless this pure, pure boy. 

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them. 

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.” 

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!” 

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response. 

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den. 

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.  

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.” 

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."  

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?” 

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap). 

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.” 

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake. 

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement. 

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.” 

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth. 

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now. 

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.” 

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him. 

“What do you mean I’m too–” 

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say. 

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his. 

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at. 

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop. 

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him. 

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.” 

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing. 

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened. 

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you. 

He’s screwed. 

Saturday, December 12th 

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night. 

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream. 

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise. 

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone. 

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search. 

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before. 

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet? 

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up 

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry 

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy? 

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door 

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts. 

Talk? Outside his door? 

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down. 

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less. 

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however. 

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch. 

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is. 

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue. 

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?” 

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you. 

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home. 

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake? 

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps. 

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes. 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you. 

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence. 

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking. 

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think. 

Not when it comes to you. 

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you. 

“Look, I-” 

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around. 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth. 

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.” 

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.  

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare. 

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help. 

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.” 

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.” 

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away. 

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare. 

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two. 

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily. 

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you. 

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. 

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure. 

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response. 

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else. 

“Too late.” 

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’))))) 

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

[wolfstar-in-color]

July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that. 

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him. 

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things. 

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation. 

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit. 

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do). 

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster. 

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

[choking-on-tae]

Wizard ATEEZ Falling In Love With A Non-Magical S.O

Anon: how about wizard!ateez falls for a normal non-magical s/o? hmm like wizards and humans aren't allowed to interact so they kept the relationship a secret? or the friendship a secret if you don't want it to be romantic

Anon: ot8 wizard!ateez would be great or it can be hongjoong if you want a single member fic. but you can choose anyone you think fits it best they're all my bias sdjhfkfkr

A/N: I absolutely love supernatural AU's and ATEEZ so for me this is the perfect combo! I love this idea and wanted to make it longer than my normal reactions, hence why I didn't make it a 'ateez reaction to' post although it's pretty similar. I love supernatural AU's but be warned this is gonna be looooooong. x

Warnings: Angst and mentions of injuries. Idk if that triggers anyone but just thought I'd let you know in advance! x

Seonghwa

Seonghwa is someone who follows rules and doesn't question them to much. It isn't until he catches feelings for an adorable non-magical person that he finds himself questioning it. Why is it that wizards aren't allowed to fall in love with non-magical people? It just something that doesn't make sense to him. It's because humans are supposedly dangerous to them, although Seonghwa couldn't possibly imagine how.

He's just going on his evening walk when he spots you sitting in a field, admiring the pretty flowers. A soft smile spreads across his face as he makes his way towards you. "They're really pretty, aren't they?"

Your head snaps around at the sound of a voice, but you instantly relax when you notice it's Seonghwa. You flash him a shy smile as you nod your head.

"Yeah, these tulips are my favorite actually."

Seonghwa moves to sit down beside you as he too admires the beautiful tulips. You know Seonghwa is a wizard and that you're technically not supposed to be around each other, but it just feels so weird to you. He's just Seonghwa. There's nothing scary about him.

"I know we're not supposed to be around each other but I really like talking to you, Seonghwa." You whisper softly, but due to your close proximity it's still loud enough for him to hear.

He feels his heart flutter as he looks you in the eye. His heart beating rapidly against his chest as he tries to find the right words to say.

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way about you Y/N."

You smile at his words as your hands creeps towards his, gently lacing your fingers together as you give his hand a tight squeeze. Seonghwa feels his cheeks flush as he smiles brightly, knowing that you feel the same way he does.

He leans in to press a kiss against your cheek before resting his head on your shoulder, playing with your fingers as you two sit peacefully in the tulip field.

Hongjoong

Hongjoong isn't one to obey the rules, so when he came across one that said that wizards aren't allowed to fall in love with humans, he almost wanted to fall in love with one just to break the stupid rule. Almost. What he didn't expect was to actually fall in love with one. He didn't hate humans but the never actually found one that caught his eye. Until he met you. He spotted you one day when he was looking out of the window, sipping a warm cup of coffee as he looked at the outside world.

That's when he spotted you walking outside, headphones on as you skipped around. He chuckled softly when he saw how happy you looked, and he instantly wanted to get to know you better. There was just something about you that caught his eye, and he wanted to know what it was.

It wasn't until he finally met you that he found out what it was, your passion. Whenever you talked about something you liked your eyes would sparkle. It was something he hadn't seen before in a person and it really made him want to get to know you better. Hongjoong could tell right away that you weren't a witch, and that he should probably stay away but he just couldn't bring himself to do that.

He likes you, so he continued meeting up with you and eventually fell in love. You're sitting under a tree together, listening to one of your favorite songs when Hongjoong suddenly leans in to press a kiss against your cheek, taking you by surprise.

You stare at him with wide eyes as you ask, "What are you doing?" "Isn't it obvious? I like you."

"But you aren't supposed to-" "-I know that, but I don't care. I like you Y/N and there's nothing I can or want to do about that. That is if it's okay with you of course."

His voice grows noticeably softer towards the end, which doesn't go unnoticed by you. He must be nervous for your response. Because you know just as well as he does that you aren't supposed to be doing this, but you can't bring yourself to care.

So you flash Hongjoong a bright smile as you pull him close enough to kiss him. He's surprised at first but soon kisses you back. It's short and sweet but long enough to know what the other person is feeling.

Hongjoong pulls back and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you two lean back against the tree again and continue listening to your favorite playlist.

Yunho

Yunho is so focused on trying to perfect his spell that he doesn't hear you come in. You walk into the room, excited to show your best friend a funny video you saw online when you see something floating in the air. You drop your phone to the ground, the sound startling Yunho who turns around to look at who came in. Once he sees that it's you his eyes grow wide and he drops the object that was floating in the air.

"Y/N..." He says, beyond shocked that you caught him.

Now there's no point in hiding it anymore. Now you know he's a wizard. "I-I can explain..." He says, slowly making his way towards you but to his surprise he doesn't see you backing away.

"You're a wizard..." You stammer, still staring at you with wide eyes.

"I am. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"I get it." "Huh?"

"I get why you didn't tell me, Yunho."

He's surprised by your action but also relieved. Yunho is glad that you aren't scared of him, so he makes his way towards you and gives you a hug, which you return.

"So you're not scared of me?" He asks, nervously biting down on his bottom lip as he stares at you with big eyes.

"Of course not Yunho."

He flashes you a bright smile as he rests his chin on your shoulder, holding you close. Yunho brushes his nose against your cheek before pressing a soft kiss against it.

"I really like you Y/N. I know I'm not supposed to but that's why I tried hiding it from you."

You nod at his words as you pull back just enough to be able to look at him. "I really like you too Yunho. I don't care that you're a wizard and I'm not a witch, but I still like you a lot."

Yunho smiles brightly at your words as he presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.

"Then let's not care about what people say and just be together."

Yeosang

You grab the two mugs with hot tea as you make your way to the living room, where Yeosang is reading a new book that he's become obsessed with lately. You let out a soft chuckle as you place the mugs down on the coffee table as you watch how focused Yeosang is on the book.

"What's it about?"

Yeosang's head snaps up upon hearing your voice. His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as he tries to find the right words to say. "Its... uhmm.. just a book about history."

You nod softly, not believing a word he says. Yeosang has never been a good liar and you can see right through him, but you don't question it further.

You take your mug as you start sipping your tea, taking out your phone as you scroll through it.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom real quick." "Okay."

Yeosang closes the book as he leaves to go to the restroom. As soon as he's gone you reach for the book and look at the name. "The history of potions." Why the hell would he be reading a book about potions? It's then that something clicks in your brain. Oh my god Yeosang is a wizard.

You sit there in shock until Yeosang comes back, looking just as shocked as you. "Y/N... I.. I can explain."

"Are you a wizard?"

Yeosang nods softly as he feels his cheeks heat up from your stare. "Yes, I'm sorry for not telling you. I know we've been dating for a while but I didn't know how to tell you..."

"I'm not mad. I get why you didn't tell me."

He seems surprised by your reaction, and can't help but smile softly when he sees your happy expression. "So we're good? Even though we technically aren't supposed to be together?"

You wrap your arms around Yeosang's neck as you look him in the eyes. Staring at him lovingly before leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. "I don't care about that Yeo. I just want to be with you."

San

You and San are playing in the field together, laughing and running after each other when you accidentally fall over a branch.

"Are you okay?" San asks, hurrying towards you as he kneels down besides you, examining the injury on your leg. The cut looks pretty deep and there's some dirt in it as well. San takes out his wand and uses a spell to cure your injury. Meanwhile you're staring at him with wide eyes. Coming to the realization that your best friend and person you're in love with is a wizard.

You feel your heart sink as you feel yourself tearing up. San puts his wand away and turns to look at you with a soft smile, but it disappears as soon as he sees the tears in your eyes. "W-What's wrong Y/N?"

"You're a wizard?"

San nods his head, his eyebrows furrowing because he still doesn't understand why you'd be upset about that. Since you've said multiple times that you think wizards are pretty cool. It isn't until he thinks back on some things you've said to each other that he realizes why you're crying. You're in love with him.

San feels his heart ache when it dawns upon him. The person he's been in love with for years feels the same way about him. Now it makes sense why you're upset. San sighs softly as he looks at you, wiping your tears as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I should have told you sooner."

San moves to get up but as soon as he does you grab his hand, pulling him back instantly. The unexpected move causes San to fall forward and onto you. The two of you stare at each other with wide eyes as you feel your cheeks heat up.

"Sorry.. I just didn't want you to leave."

"No I get that." San says, smiling softly as he looks into your eyes.

"Maybe we could make this work, we just have to keep this a secret. I don't know if you want to d-" You press your lips against his, efficiently shutting him up as you wrap your arms around his neck. San smiles against your lips as he pulls back, chuckling softly.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Mingi

From the moment Mingi first met you he knew you weren't a witch, and that it would be dangerous to befriend you. Not because you're a human because humans aren't dangerous, but because he might fall in love with you. When he met you he could instantly tell that you had a different way of thinking, and Mingi really liked that. It didn't take long before the two of you became friends, and soon he started to fall in love with you.

This cutie would be so conflicted, because he knows he isn't supposed to fall in love with a non-magical person but he couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to.

You were aware that Mingi was a wizard and that you weren't allowed to be together, but just like Mingi you couldn't understand why it was that way. What was so wrong about wizards and non-magical people loving each other.

You were sitting on the couch, cuddled up together when Mingi suddenly leans down to kiss your cheek. Your eyes grow wide as you look at him. Your expression making him chuckle.

"What's it, Y/N?" "Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I like you."

If you weren't blushing before you sure are now. Mingi chuckles at your expression as he hugs you tighter.

"I know it's not allowed but I don't care. I like you and if you'll let me I'd love to be your partner."

You smile brightly as you hug him tighter, pressing a couple of kisses against his cheeks as he chuckles softly.

Wooyoung

One thing Wooyoung has always been interested in is potions, specifically love potions. He wonders if they actually work so that's why he decided to make one. Woo wasn't planning on making one that makes someone fall in love but one that lets you smell the scent of your soulmate. Wooyoung wanted to find out if it was really you. Once he finishes putting all the incredients in he stirs it around a litle before a delicious scent fills his nostrils. A delicious but also very familiar scent. Your perfume mixed with the smell of your laundry detergent. He's so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't hear the front door unlock.

When you walk into his apartment the last thing you expect is to see your best friend standing over a small cauldron. You furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. "Uhm. What are you doing, Woo?"

As soon as he hears your voice a panicked expression is plastered on his face. His eyes wide as he stares at you in shock. "Y/N... what are you doing here?"

You show him the bag of chips he asked you to buy as you say, "It's our weekly movie night. Did you forget?"

"No.. of course not.. uhm.." Wooyoung stammers, trying to think of an explanation but knowing there is none.

You lean against the doorframe as you fold your arms over each other, staring at him with a smirk on your face. "So a wizard, huh? That explains a lot."

Wooyoung seems surpised by your response but he's relieved you're taking it so well. He smiles softly as he makes his way towards you. "So.. you're not mad?"

You shake your head 'no' as you give him a hug. "Of course not, although it would have been nice to know that the guy I like is a wizard."

"You like me?" He smiles brightly upon hearing your words, pulling you closer until his nose brushes against yours.

"Yes. Like Wooyoung. I like you."

Wooyoung leans in to kiss you softly as he mumbles, "I really like you too Y/N. I don't care what anyone says."

Jongho

Jongho is going on his usual evening walk when he spots you sitting out near the river. He's surprised to see you there so late, since you're not a massive fan of the dark. He makes his way towards you, trying not to scare you as he carefully sits down next to you.

You look up to see Jongho sitting next to you, making you smile softly. Just when you were thinking about you he appears. How funny. Jongho's heart flutters when he sees you smiling at him as he notices you fiddling with your fingers. Something you always do when you're nervous.

"What are you thinking about Y/N?" "Oh.. just something." You mumble, trying to avoid his eyes.

Jongho is having none of it so he gently takes your hand is his, softly brushing his thump across the back of it as he gives it a soft squeeze. "You can tell me."

"I like you Jongho. And I know I'm not supposed to and you probably don't like me back but I just can't help it."

His eyes widen at his words as he takes a moment to take all of it in. You like him back? A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes your other hand is his too, squeezing them softly as he looks at you.

"Y/N... I like you too. I can't believe you feel the same way."

Now it's your turn to be surprised. Jongho likes you back? Even though he's a wizard?

"But we aren't supposed to..-" "-I know, but I don't care."

Both of you smile softly at each other as Jongho pulls you a little closer to him, so you're practically pressed together as you continue staring at the flowing river in front of you. aa

[gardenergulfie]

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

Rating: G

Word Count: 2539

Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity/Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname

Characters: Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname, Jimmy | Solidarity

Tags:Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Empires SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Flower Husbands, Emptober, Seablings, 

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

--

AO3 Link

Fic below the cut

Jimmy was a pretty normal guy. I mean he was the leader of an empire but compared to the other leaders and even his own citizens he was normal, maybe even average. Just a pretty basic dude. But Jimmy had something, a part of him, that was very not normal. It was a ribbon tied around his left wrist. It was green and blue with a design of red flowers that Jimmy had never seen before. The ribbon had one end constantly trailing out of sight. It had been there for as long as he could remember and strangely enough, seemingly no-one else could see it.

When Jimmy was little he tried out some tests with the ribbon. He found out that he couldn’t tangle it, he couldn’t trip people with it, he couldn’t hang things on it, it didn’t interact with water like most fabrics did, it was just intangible to anyone or anything but Jimmy. He’d told his sister Lizzie about it but she didn’t have one and she couldn’t see or feel it. He’d even gone to the local library to do research on it which did make the bookkeeper give him a strange look, he’d never been one for academics before but he just needed to know. He found nothing but some sappy love stories about people with invisible red strings of fate that connected them to their one true love. Jimmy didn’t really believe these stories, besides he had a ribbon not a string.

Once or twice in his life Jimmy had felt a tug on the ribbon. It felt like a person on the other end of it had pulled on it. Was there someone also connected to him? Were those stories about strings of fate true? Jimmy followed the ribbon for a long time, only stopping when he realized that he was at the edge of the kingdom. If there was a person on the other end, they weren’t from his home empire.

For a while that was it. Nothing new could be found out about the ribbon and so Jimmy resigned himself to it just being a mystery forever. On the plus side, he didn’t really mind it that much. It didn’t hurt him or get stuck on anything which was nice and it was a nice texture. Sometimes when he was anxious or just restless he would twist it between his fingers and fidget with it. He got some strange looks, fidgeting with nothing, but it wasn’t that weird so no-one really questioned him.

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

“Hello! I’m Jimmy Solidarity of the Ocean Empire!” He said to the elf, his voice coming out louder than he intended from nerves. He winced as the elf turned to him with a mildly peeved expression.

“Scott Smajor, heir of Rivendell.” The elf said coldly. He assessed Jimmy lazily but his eyes stopped on Jimmy’s left hand, the one holding the ribbon. His cold mask dropped and Jimmy could see an expression of shock and mild intrigue before it went back up. “I’ve never spoken to a citizen of the ocean empire. Are you all this small? It's kinda cute” Jimmy bristled a bit at the insult? Flirt? He couldn’t tell but he knew enough to be offended.

“Not all of us can be as tall as elves. I am quite a normal height! And I’m not cute.” Jimmy snapped back. Scott looked briefly surprised at his retort but then smirked.

“Not cute you say? That adorable pout on your face says otherwise.” Scott says, lifting his hand to gesture at Jimmy’s expression. A hand that had a blue green and red flower patterned ribbon tied around it. The same ribbon that existed around Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he looked at his own ribbon. Sure enough, they were connected. So there was a person on the other end of it and Jimmy had found them. But Scott? Really? This ribbon better not be one of those soul things, he does not want to be bonded to that rude elf.

Jimmy realized that he should probably respond to Scott. He’s been standing silently for about a minute now and Scott was surly waiting for him to say something.

“I wasn’t pouting! I was upset at being called cute. Not everyone likes random strangers calling them cute, you know.” Jimmy says back. Scott looks thoughtful.

“I don’t know. If a pretty boy like you walked up to me and called me cute, I don’t think I’d be complaining.” The elf says back. Jimmy sputters as he tries to think of a response. He really wasn’t someone who got flirted with often, even as a joke, and it was very disarming.

“Well I’m not you so I care.” He says back with his face bright red. He knew it wasn’t the best comeback and from Scott’s smug expression he could tell it hadn’t hit the mark he was aiming for.

“Right sure.” Scott says with an eye roll. “This conversation’s being nowhere and I already won it so why don’t we talk about something else. I could take you on a tour? I don’t think you fishfolk get the chance to see elven architecture often.” Jimmy once again bristled at Scott’s mild insult but agreed to the tour. Scott led Jimmy away from the front hall and outside into Rivendell proper. Jimmy wouldn’t admit it but Scott was a pretty good tour guide, he knew a lot about the kingdom’s history and culture and was good at talking about it, even if he still flirted and insulted Jimmy quite often. Scott showed Jimmy the sheep pens, the owl roost, and apiary, all places that Jimmy had only seen glimpses of during the trip here.

In the apiary Jimmy saw something. A red flower, identical to the ones on his ribbon. He called Scott over, asking what kind of flower that was. Scott glanced over and when he saw the red flower Jimmy was talking about he briefly touched the ribbon tied to his own hand before answering.

“Its a poppy. They’re a common flower and grow in most places. You haven’t seen one before?” The elf asked. Jimmy shook his head.

“I don’t think they grow in the swamps. I would have remembered seeing a flower this red before.” Jimmy gently touched a petal of the flower. It was beautiful and it made Jimmy feel…. weirdly bittersweet? It was just a flower. Why did Jimmy feel like crying then? He blinked away the tears that were forming and backed away from the flower. Scott was giving him an odd searching look.

“It's my favorite kind of flower.” Scott said at last. “I always make sure there’s at least one in the apiary at all times.” Jimmy was surprised at this personal info that Scott was just telling him. Scott hadn’t talked much about himself, mostly speaking about the elves and their great kingdom. Him just dropping this strange piece of personal information seems out of pace and it made Jimmy wonder why he did it. The elf was still looking at him, waiting for Jimmy to say something in return.

“It really is lovely.” Jimmy responded. “Does it have any special meanings?” Jimmy had heard of flowers having special meaning attached to them though he hadn’t learned much about them. Lizzie had but not him.

“Sleep, peace, and death are what the poppy represents.” Scott says, unconsciously tugging on the ribbon. Jimmy felt that tug, just more proof that they were connected. Sleep, peace, and death were strange meanings for the flowers on his ribbon. Maybe the type of flower didn’t mean anything but it's a magic ribbon so that was unlikely. Jimmy was hoping that his flowers meant peace or maybe sleep, death was something he’d really not want to be tied with.

Scott had been looking more and more nervous the more Jimmy thought. The elf was trying to hide it but the fluttering of his wings and shuffling of his feet gave him away. Jimmy was about to ask him about the problem when a loud gong rang across the city.

“That's the feast bell. They’re about to start dinner.” Scott says, moving towards the door to the apiary. “We need to go quickly so we’re not late.” Jimmy let the topic of Scott’s anxiety around him drop and the two rushed towards the main hall. They were separated in the crowd when they got there, Jimmy being reunited with Lizzie who asked him where he was and introduced him to her new friend Joel. Jimmy didn’t see Scott for the rest of the night, only briefly catching a glimpse of him when it was time for him to leave.

Jimmy met Scott quite a few times over the course of many years, the two becoming rulers of their own nations, Scott in Rivendell and Jimmy in the newly formed Cod Empire. They maintained a similar relationship as they had when they were young, Scott teasing and flirting with Jimmy and Jimmy getting flustered and firing back with his own bad insults. Neither of them brought up the topic of the ribbon though Jimmy was pretty sure that Scott knew at this point. The many glances at Jimmy’s left wrist was a pretty big clue to that.

Years past, Jimmy and Scott were still leading their empires and occasionally bickering with each other. The demon plagued them for a bit and in that time they became allies in a very strange way, Scott taking Jimmy on a date. The many poppies around the date place was a nice reference to the ribbon and a knowing look from Jimmy let Scott know he knew what was up. It took a couple more suggested dates for Jimmy to realize that the date wasn’t one of Scott’s normal flirts but that Scott was actually interested in him. The two took it slow, going on quite a few more dates before they were ready to speak of the ribbon out-loud.

Jimmy remembered it as a chilly evening, the two of them drinking warm tea inside of Jimmy’s house. Scott had made the excuse of it being too cold back home and that the swamp was just much warmer but Jimmy knew the elf at this point to know that Scott wanted to spend time with him. They had done some baking following a simple recipe that somehow they still managed to mess up and then salvage at the last minute. Now with a mug of tea in hand and slightly burnt cookies on a plate in front of him, Jimmy was feeling brave. He tugged on the ribbon once then twice when Scott didn’t look over from his cup of tea. The second tug caught the elf’s attention and he looked down at the ribbon resting beside them both.

“I think at this point we both know about the existence of this,” Jimmy waved his own end of the ribbon, “and the fact that it connects them. I don’t know about you but we’ve been dating for a bit. We might as well talk about it.” Scott blinked in surprise at the question coming from seemingly nowhere but nodded at set down his drink.

“I was wondering when one of us was going to be brave enough to bring up the soul ribbon.” Scott said. “I’d have thought you would have blurted the question out way before now.” Scott teased with a small smirk. Jimmy let the insult flirt fly over his head, mostly focused on the words soul ribbon.

“Wait, the soul ribbon is like a string of fate? The stuff from those love stories?” Jimmy asked. Scott looked confused at the question.

“Wait, you mean you don’t know about soul ribbons? They’re real and way more than just stories. We’re kind of living proof of that.” Scott said. Jimmy leaned back in his chair a bit more.

“The only information I found about anything similar to the ribbon was stories about red strings of fate that connect people destined to be together. They were just fiction I thought but you’re saying that it’s really real. We’re soulmates?” Jimmy asks.

“Soul ribbons are a bit more complicated than just the idea of fated couples. They’re broken promises from a past life. When two people promise to stay together but something happens where they promise is broken, the universe will step in and give them another chance. Hence, the soul ribbon.” Scott explains. “The pattern of the ribbon normally has some kind of meaning relating to the past life. Soul ribbons can’t really be studied but there have been enough cases that people are now pretty sure of their meaning.”

“So in another life, we made a promise to each other but it got broken? And poppies were important to us?” Jimmy questioned. “Well that explains why I feel so happy and sad at the same time when I see a poppy. Past life emotions, huh.” Scott reached out and took a cookie with one hand and Jimmy's own hand with another.

“I understand if this is a lot to take in.” Scott bit his lip, looking anxious. “Again, the soul ribbon doesn’t mean that we have to be together. It’s just the universe giving us a second chance. So if this is too much for you we don’t have to keep dating-“

“What? Scott no. I don’t want to stop dating. It’s strange, yeah, but I mean I already knew we were connected. This doesn’t have to change anything for us! I’m happy to know how we’re connected, this solves a mystery I’ve always been wondering about. I mean, better lovers in a past life than fated enemies in this one.” Jimmy said passionately, laughing a bit at his own joke at the end. Scott’s face brightened up and he smiled back at Jimmy.

“Was that one of your theories? Fated enemies?” Scott chuckled as he took a bite of his cookie. Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck bashfully with his free hand.

“I mean we were always bickering. It wasn’t too strange of an idea.” Jimmy defended himself.

The two of them continued to talk for quite a few more hours before they eventually fell asleep together, bundled up under a quilt. Their hands were intertwined, the two ends of the ribbons brushing against each other. The universe looked down at these second chance souls and felt pride. They really had found each other again.

[crystal-moon-101]

So I’ve got three AUs here with The Secret Generator 10 Trio, and I drew them all together because they are all connected based on the same idea. In these AUs, instead of receiving their powers from something, they are what their powers are. Basically, Zak is still Kur reborn, but was born a dragon who disguises himself as human, Rex is the Omega (His design is based off of my sentient Omega AU), and Ben is the Omnitrix who decide to become a living being, choosing a human body as his main form. I’ll go into a little more detail to explain each AU, and I hope you enjoy! If you have any questions about any of these AUs, don’t be shy to ask. 🧡 💙 💚 -Zur AU- In this world, Doc and Drew never had any biological kids, as Drew found she was unable to bare any. This did distraught the pair, as it had been one of their long life dreams, but they stayed strong and decided to focus on their work for a bit, deciding on future family stuff later.  Eventually, they came across the Kur Stone with the rest of the secret scientists, and as the story goes Argost snatched it, and the secret scientists rushed into Weird World to retrieve it, losing many of their teammates in the progress. But things take an interesting turn when taking the stone back to base. You see, as the scientists were discussing what to do, now understanding what the stone really was, they all suddenly heard a faint crack...then another, then a few more, and before anyone knew what was happening, the Kur stone slip, breaking open into four pieces as a tiny, baby, serpent-like dragon crawled out. That’s when they realized that the stone was not a stone, but rather an egg, and putting two and two together, the group assumed that this was Kur’s child. Of course, they freaked out, not wanting something tied to the being said to desire to kill all humans to be wandering around the lab, but their panic caused the little infant dragon to panic too, and a chase sparked, with the little dragon rushing around the labs to hide and keep away from these strange people. The young dragon was confused, as it didn’t understand what was wrong, why these people seemed so scared, though one of these people did catch his eye, the woman with white hair. He had seen her first when hatching, and developed this strange attachment to Drew. She ended up being the one to corner the baby, who came up with a...odd idea somehow. Reaching deep within himself, he found the ability to shapeshift into a human form (Albeit with dragon like features), basing features off of Drew and Doc. This caught the two off guard, especially when seeing bits and pieces of themselves in this child. At first they thought he was trying to trick them, but when they started clinging to Drew, something sparked in the two, this need to protect this young one, who had clearly bonded to them so fast (Drew was quick to scoop them up and be ready to tell the other scientist to a back off).  It was a longgggg discussion with the others, many having concerned and worries, but eventually it was agreed that they could not place Kur’s blame onto his offspring, as it was unfair, and since Drew and Doc handle cryptids for a living, it was best that they looked after him. So, they gave him the name Zak, and their little family began.   Now, Zak is very well aware of what he is and who he is, and is very grateful for his parents for taking him in, despite what he was. The main plot of the series would most likely be the same, with a few differences, like people like the Nagas and Argost eventually thinking that Zak is Kur’s son too. But then the twist eventually comes in that Zak isn’t Kur’s son, he is Kur himself, just reborn like a phoenix. This leads into Zak’s anxiety crises about who he really is and what he could do, just like in season 2.  Zak can also switch between his human form, and real dragon form, though he is able to summon parts of his dragon form, like wings or his tail, if that’s better to use at the moment. He’s quite the magpie too, often collecting ores, gems, jewelry and anything that catches his eye. His loves the outdoors quite a bit, and spends a lot of his time out in the woods or grass fields around his home, connecting with the local wildlife too. He’s also known to straight up hiss and growl, even in his human form.  -Omega Rex AU- After the failures of the Alpha project, the crew on the nanite project eventually moved onto the Omega project, which was being lead by not only Caesar, but his parents as well this time. Based on Alpha’s designs, tweaking them quite a bit, they eventually made Omega, a much more friendly and kinder version of Alpha. Omega started off as mostly robotic, being tested on and merely hanging around the labs until needed for something. But like all of Caesar’s project, things started to change, and Omega started to become something more. It was little things at first, Omega asking little questions, curious about the world and people in it. Then Omega started mimicking people, copying human mannerism and even style of speech. People caught on quick, and become a little nervous, given Alpha was kind of the same when he started to change and eventually go rouge. They kept an eye on Omega, making sure nothing went down hill, but instead they went an opposite direction, taking a more wonder filled out look on life, wanting to know a lot about life and what it meant to be living. There were mixed responses to this, some telling Omega that they were just a robot and nothing more, others wanting to see where this would go.   Omega seemed to follow three people the most, Caesar, Rylander and Van Kleiss, each peeking his interest in different ways, each one seeing and treating him differently. Caesar often regarded him as one of his great inventions, and was enjoying seeing where Omega was going, and how they were growing, and while there were moments that Caesar treated him a little more human they he would admit, he tried to keep it professional and just say Omega was a tool. Rylander was the kindness to Omega, and would be happy enough to answer their questions and let them understand life a little better, often thinking he saw a spark of a soul in Omega’s eyes from time to time. Van Kleiss was intrigued by Omega, especially when Omega seemed unphased by Van Kleiss’s off putting nature. Like Rylander, he was fine to answer him questions about the world and life, though his negative views on life due to past issues made things a little sad for Omega to hear, even trying to ‘comfort’ the man despite Van Kleiss telling him not too. Then, the nanite event happened. It all happened so fast, but that didn’t matter in the end as Omega awoke with no memories...not even their own name. Left wandering the world now being infested with EVOs, he eventually ran into the Hong Kong Gang one by one, where he started to developed a more teen like personality, and even got the name Rex from them. This made that desire to be something more, something alive, stronger, and that feeling stayed with them even after he left the group, lost his memories again, and got picked up by Six and Providence. At first, they had assumed he was an EVO, but once they realized he was something else, a living nanite it seems, they kept him around in hopes he could help, especially after seeing he could cure EVOs and talk to other nanites.  Rex is very curious, and still mimics quite a bit, you often seen him copying gestures from Six and Holiday. Not in a mocking way, but more so like a little kid taking after the adults around him. He’s still learning a lot about being ‘human’ so he does stumble quite a bit, doing things like saying a phrasing wrong, not understanding latest trends, and sometimes forgetting the body limits of a normal human. -Omni-Ben AU- While Azmuth was alone, isolating himself in his work for the Omnitrix, he eventually managed to complete it. However, while he was having it do some test runs and look overs to make sure it was ready, he came to find that the AI may have been a little more advance than he was expecting, for the next thing he new, the Omnitrix shapeshifted into the form of a 13 year old human male. Of course, being highly confused, Azmuth questioned his creation, and the Omnitrix explained that, after looking through the DNA is had, seeing all the different speices in the galaxy and seeing how they live, how they work, they wanted to be like that too, wanted to be alive and real. They had picked a human as their man form as they enjoyed the idea of how humans grow, how individualized they are as a species. Azmuth thought about it, but finally agreed to let the Omnitrix try this out. For the next two years, still living in isolation, Omnitrix and Azmuth started up a simple life living together, Omnitrix even calling him father, which Azmuth was fine with and grew accustomed to. However, Azmuth never let Omnitrix out of the lab/base, for he feared what was out there that could try and use his creation for awful things, and with the Omnitrix alive and sentient, it made that fear worse. But, of course, things couldn’t stay the same forever, as one day Vilgax came knocking and demanded the Omnitrix. Azmuth was quick to tell his creation to flee, despite the Omnitrix’s hesitation. But, unable to deny orders from his father, the Omnitrix fleed as Vilgax followed after, taking Azmuth as his prisoner just in case.   Needing somewhere to hide or run too, the Omnitrix thought back to some of Azmuth’s stories, recalling the tale about a human called Max Tennyson, who had once defeated Vilgax, and was well known by the Plumbers. Given the Omnitrix had a human form, and knowing Max’s history with the Plumbers and Vilgax, he decided to find him, making his way to earth and crashing there. He had been following Max’s Plumber signal (Which was in the rust bucket), and ended up being found by Gwen, who took him to Grandpa Max. After explaining his situation, Max agrees to help, and after some debate, Gwen could come too.  The three begin to travel across the USA, going to old Plumber bases to collected needed weapons as Vilgax was on their tale, and looking for help in the matter. Needing to blend in with humans, Gwen helped Ben get an outfit that could hide him (Not quite the one up above), and used some make up along with an eye contact to cover up anything he couldn’t remove from himself, and eventually gave him the name Ben. Ben is quite...alien, for lack of a better term. Given he was isolated with Azmuth his entire life, there’s a lot he needs to learn and understand. He is quite smart and quick to pick up on things, but does stumble up in the moment. He’s found that the world outside it quite big, bigger than he realized, and now he’s experience so much, even new emotions he thought he never had, but...he does wanna see more of the world and what it has to offer.

[kcatta-wodahs]

MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop. 

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down. 

 But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you. 

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death. 

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers. 

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL. 

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away. 

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed. 

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead. 

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you. 

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”. 

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait. 

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness. 

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.” 

Frankly, that’s rude, MC. 

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC 

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

[rocorambles]

Inexperience

Pairing: Tsukishima x Reader 

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Slight Angst, Fluff, Fingering

Summary: When insecurity about your lack of sexual experience threatens to tear you apart internally, Tsukishima is there to hold you together, to show you there’s nothing to be worried about, to prove that he loves you just for being you. 

Author’s Note: I just wanted an excuse to write about soft museum employee Tsukishima and just soft Tsukishima in general. 

Tsukishima had always been smart, cunning, intelligent, so it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone that he decided to work at the Sendai City Museum. It just fit him perfectly and it was easy to imagine the tall blonde pushing up his glasses as he calmly led tour groups around, clearly articulating and teaching visitors about the history of Sendai. And when his old Karasuno teammates visit him, they can’t help but notice how his quiet, reserved personality seems right at home in the peaceful halls of the institution, his character only breaking when he barks for Hinata to quiet down or not touch some of the artifacts. 

What is surprising is the way he almost seems flustered, stumbling over words, awkwardly unable to make eye contact as another museum employee greets him with a smile as she passes by and Daichi and Sugawara look at each other in interest, realization in their eyes as they watch their kouhai’s eyes trail after her retreating figure. 

In a small town like Miyagi where there isn’t much exciting news to keep them entertained, this is as close to reality TV as they can get, not to mention both of them are now incredibly invested and determined for the younger, seemingly impassive man to finally get his fill of romance. So needless to say, they make a trip to the Sendai City Museum a regular occurrence and although Tsukishima looks at them with suspicion, his respect for his senpais keeps his mouth still and he just politely walks them through the museum, spends his lunch breaks with them, and meets them for drinks after work once in a while. 

It’s actually kind of nice, he supposes. He’s always liked and respected the two older men, although both men terrified him in their own ways: Daichi with his stern and fear inducing temper, Suga with his perception that rivals Tsukishima’s own intellect and his mischievous streak that sometimes meant trouble for anyone who peaked his interest. But without the restraints of them being his captain and vice-captain, without the natural inherent age hierarchy that comes from being in school, he finds himself opening up more and truly enjoying the company of the two men, even if there is always a nagging question in the back of his mind wondering what exactly has them hanging around him so often these days. 

The answer comes like a swift punch in the gut one day as the three of them walk around the museum and happen to cross your path and before Tsukishima can quickly and nervously greet and part ways with you as usual, Suga is there pressed close to his side, eyes glinting as he stares at you, pouting at Tsukishima to introduce his friend to Daichi and him. And before Tsukishima can even take back control and catch up with what’s happening, he’s being forcefully dragged by Daichi as Suga easily chats away with you, leading the way for all four of you to eat at a local restaurant. And he gulps as Daichi slaps him hard on the back with a wide toothy grin plastered on his face as he pulls the tense blonde aside for a moment. 

“Chin up! You’re never going to get that girl’s attention if you just sit around like a moping beanpole.”

Daichi smirks as Tsukishima’s jaw drops and he briefly basks in catching the usually nonchalant man off guard, chuckling when the blonde doesn’t even try to deny Daichi’s words, and he nudges him into the restaurant, joining Suga and you who are already seated. 

Lunch is...pleasant and although Tsukishima feels like a deer in headlights at the beginning of the meal as he tries to talk to you like a normal human being and not some love stricken child, with the help of his more extroverted and sociable senpais conversation flows smoothly and he can feel his shoulders relax, his mind focus and hone in on your words, falling more and more in love the more you talk, the more you smile and laugh. And Suga and Daichi subtly wink at each other when the atmosphere changes and suddenly they’re background characters watching the two of you flirt, barely acknowledged as the two of you stare in each other’s eyes, fully focused on one another. 

Needless to say, there are many more lunch breaks spent together, these times just the two of you and you can’t help but be in awe as your handsome quiet coworker begins to come out of his shell bit by bit, practically howling in laughter after the initial shock when he instinctively shoots a snarky comment your way for the first time when you clumsily spill coffee all over yourself one morning. But you’re not laughing when he takes off his blazer and wraps it around your shoulders and the both of you shyly look away as you snake your arms through the sleeves and button it up, effectively covering your jarring stain and when he walks away to begin his tours for the day, you bury your face into the oversized fabric, hiding your gleeful smile as your heart thunders inside of your chest. 

It doesn’t take long before the two of you officially begin dating and you spend some of the happiest months of both your lives together as you walk hand in hand through other museums, nerding out over history, as you attend his volleyball games, loudly cheering whenever he successfully blocks a spike and no matter how big the crowd is, he never fails to search for and find you among the masses, standing a little straighter, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips when he meets your gaze. 

And yet, there’s hesitation on your part when he walks you home like a gentleman, making sure you’re safely inside your apartment, the front door firmly locked behind you. You love the feeling of his large calloused hands entwined with yours. You love the way his lips feel against yours as he gives you a sweet kiss before he parts ways. But when the two of you stand there in front of your doorway, hand in hand, eyes lovingly locked on each other, you can’t bring yourself to take the next step and invite him in, your insecurities and inexperience clamming your mouth shut. And although he never pressures you, never even remotely hints at being frustrated or impatient about the lack of sexual intimacy between the two of you, your own doubts and anxieties create imaginary monsters in your head, only fueling your insecurity about never having been with a man before and you feel more and more distraught the longer the two of you date, wondering if he’d break up with you any minute, choose any of his pretty fans or the pining women who join his tour guides regularly over you, experienced and confident women who wouldn’t hesitate to tumble into bed with him. 

Maybe that’s why, even though you’re not ready, even though you’re trembling with nerves, you shakily hold his hand and lead him inside your home after one of your dates, trying to force a smile on your face as you clumsily remove your clothes in front of him, hoping you look enticing despite the sick feeling in your stomach. But you’re a fool to think Tsukishima wouldn’t see right through you, to think his sharp eyes wouldn’t notice the nervous gulp you take, the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and he’s quick to stop you, gently holding your hands in his and leading you to your couch where he drapes a blanket over you, trying to be respectful as he looks away from your bare form. 

But when he stops you, covers you, looks away, all you feel is rejection and hot tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes and Tsukishima has never felt more panicked than he does when he hears the first of your sniffles as you try to wipe your tears away, clumsily reaching to drag you and hold you in his arms, tucking your head in his chest as he pleads with you to tell him what’s wrong. And he feels unsure and lost, useless as his actions only seem to make you sob harder, but before he can pull away thinking he’s somehow causing you even more pain, he stills as you throw your arms around his neck before he can completely separate from you. 

Hesitantly he carefully wraps his own wiry arms around you again and he waits, waits until your body stops shaking, waits until sobs turn into sniffles which turn into silence, waits until you lift up your head enough for you to speak. And then he listens, listens as you shyly tell him that you’ve never done anything beyond kissing before, fury beginning to coil inside of him when you timidly tell him about exes who had dumped you for being a “prude”, pain gnawing at him when you tell him how scared you were of losing him for the same reason. 

You’re silent once you finish speaking, feeling lighter, but more vulnerable as you anxiously wait for a response, fidgeting the longer and larger the silence becomes. But you gasp when large hands are pressed on either side of your face, gently turning you until you’re forced to stare into your boyfriend’s eyes and you think you might start crying again at the pure love in his eyes, the way he makes you feel so secure, so cared for with just a single look. And now it’s your turn to listen as he gruffly tells you how stupid you were for ever thinking he’d ever leave you for something like that, how he’s not some scumbag who only wants you for your body, and despite the biting edge to his voice and the harsh wording, you hear and feel just how genuine his love for you is and suddenly you feel silly for ever doubting him, ever doubting his love for you. 

The rest of the night continues peacefully once tears have been wiped away, once everything that’s needed to be said is out in the open and your blanket covered body is firmly snuggled in Tsukishima’s lap and you rest your head against his chest as he holds you, both of you watching a random show flickering on the TV screen. But you look up questioningly when Tsukishima begins to shift around uncomfortably, asking him if he wants you to sit beside him instead of on his lap, wondering if your body weight was getting to be too much after such a prolonged time, but your face heats when his hands reach down to cover the growing tent in his pants and he embarrassedly asks if you want to put your clothes back on and just give him a minute to settle back down. 

You hesitate. Maybe it’s the staggering revelation that Tsukishima truly loves you for just being you. Maybe it’s the surge of confidence you feel knowing he could care less if you don’t want to go beyond kissing and holding hands anytime in the near future, only caring that he gets to be with you. 

You’re not ready to go all the way, but…

You almost laugh at how Tsukishima startles and frantically tells you that he doesn’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, stammering and almost hyperventilating as you let the blanket slip off of you, revealing all of you to your boyfriend, so different from the usually cool and composed facade he has. And you gently, but determinedly grab his hands and tug them away from the eyes they’re covering, nervously biting your lower lip as he stares in awe at you, eyes fixated as they trail every inch of you, looking at you like you’re a work of art. 

“I’m not ready to go all the way, but I want to- can we-” 

You’re not sure what to say, how to explain it, lost for words as you enter a realm you’ve never experienced before, but Tsukishima is there to lead you, guide you and you happily sigh as he captures your lips in a tender kiss.

“We can do whatever you want. Just tell me when you want to stop. Tell me when you don’t like something, even if you’re just a little unsure, okay?” 

You eagerly nod, wrapping your arms once again around the back of Tsukishima’s neck and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to your bedroom, carefully laying you on your back and your heart races in your chest as you stare at him looming over you, breathily gasping as he peppers a trail of butterfly kisses from your lips down the side of your neck and you clutch his shoulders at the feeling of his lips on such a sensitive part of you. But you’re quickly distracted as his hands begin to massage your breasts, fingers almost teasingly brushing against your hardening nipples and Tsukishima can’t take his eyes away from you, lust pooling in his groin at how sensitive you are as you drown in pleasured sensations you’re feeling for the first time. 

He wants to hear every pretty sound you make, wants to see every reaction he can coax out of you, and he stares transfixed at how blissed out you look just from a few kisses, just from his mouth and fingers sucking and playing with your nipples. He wants more, more, more and his long fingers begin to trail down your body, fingertips dragging down your sides, reveling in the way you shiver from the simple touch. But he pauses as his hands reach your thighs, thumbs rubbing comforting circles on your inner thighs, breath catching in his throat at how wet you are, juices dripping and glistening already. 

There’s nothing more he wants than to dive right in, experience first hand how you taste, how you feel, but he carefully studies you, takes in your heaving chest, your glazed eyes. 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” 

He continues tracing gentle patterns and shapes on your skin, letting you take your time to find words through the haze of arousal you feel, but his grip unconsciously tightens when you needily tell him you want more in a high pitched whine, desire lancing through him from how desperate you sound. And he slowly runs his fingers up and down your slick slit until they’re coated in your sticky fluids, until you’re rolling and grinding your hips in a silent plea for more. Only then does he slide one finger inside, chest tightening from the way your back arches as he hooks his finger, dragging against your soft walls as he takes his time slipping in and out of you. 

A part of him wants to be a little cruel, see how much of a mess he can make of you if he painstakingly slows down his pace even more, letting you feel just enough pleasure to writhe around, but never enough to reach your peak. A part of him wants to stay like this forever, see how much more lewdly you can beg verbally and physically. But you look so confused, so helpless, so wrecked as unknown pleasure courses through you and he decides to show you mercy for now, decides to show you that you have nothing to fear as he adds another finger, his two fingers stretching you even more, scissoring inside of you, and he smiles at how your mouth gapes open, tongue lolling out as your tight hole is filled for the first time. 

His cock twitches at the sight and his free hand slips underneath his boxers to soothe his aching length, but he freezes when you wantonly beg to see it and he grits his teeth to stop himself from coming right there and then from just those words and the hungry look in your eyes as he shoves his boxers down, his cock springing against his stomach, hard and leaking, spurting more pre-cum as you unconsciously lick your lips at the sight and he imagines how good your mouth would feel around him.

But that’s for another day and he turns his attention back to the task at hand, his free hand wrapping around his shaft as he adds a third finger to the mess between your legs, your arousal making it all too easy to slide right in. And he can’t help but furiously stroke his cock as his fingers increase their pace, lewd wet slick sounds filling the room mixing with your rising moans. Your thighs begin to clench and shake, your pussy tightens around his fingers, and he can almost taste just how close you are to falling apart, to coming undone. And all it takes is his thumb reaching up to rub your clit, his fingers rapidly pistoning in and out of your gushing hole before you’re screaming, body convulsing and eyes rolling back as he continues his frantic pace, not letting up as he forces you to continue your ride until every ounce of pleasure is stripped from you, until you’re just twitching here and there as the last embers of your orgasm finally fade away. 

And only when you let out a mewl of discomfort does he stop, fingers still lodged deep inside of you as his fist pumps his cock, mouth going dry at how beautiful you look exhausted, wrecked, a silly dazed look on your face and he groans as he spills all over his hand, smiling wickedly when he notices how your eyes are now alert and intently staring at him, your attention solely focused on him. 

He makes a show of slowly pulling his fingers out of you, spreading them apart to show you how coated they are with you before slipping them between his lips, never breaking eye contact with you as he licks and sucks every last drop, something primal raging inside of him at how encaptured you are by the scene playing out in front of you despite the innocence and slight shyness he still sees flickering in your eyes. 

But there would be time in the future for more and he shoves his base desires down, grimacing slightly as he haphazardly wipes the mess on his hands and cock with his boxers before moving until he’s laying right beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his face against your cheek, letting you ground yourself, nuzzle into his warmth, find comfort in his solid presence as the last tendrils of post-coital bliss finally fade away. 

He softly smiles, adoration in his eyes when you fully come back to him, a radiant albeit tired grin on your face as you affectionately kiss him before sinking into his hold with a big yawn, eyelids fluttering shut as you sleepily demand that he stay the night. And he lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before turning the lights off, tucking you both underneath your bed sheets as he joins you in slumber, a twin pair of smiles on both your faces as you fall asleep entangled in each other’s arms. 

[bakugosbratx]

Hi love💜 Can I request a smutty dark Eren x reader???

NSFW 18+ Broken Pieces— Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Everyone is age up and consenting. Smut, sexual encounters, cursing, degrading, some power play, unprotected sex, angst, etc.

Click here to see my other works

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I hope it met your idea. I am only on season 3 of AOT so if anything seems uncanny I apologize. I hope you enjoy.

Words: 1,865

Loving Eren Jeager was not an easy task it seems. He is a soldier after all. You would await for him to arrive home after long missions with the military in hopes he will still be in one piece, but each time the soldiers marched back, the pit in your stomach grew with anticipation. Especially when Eren was nowhere to be seen.

“Captain Levi,” you huff, walking beside him as a row of soldiers follow him, “where the hell is Eren?”

“Hello to you too, brat.” Levi responds, not even looking down from on top of his horse. He is used to you doing this by now.

“With all due respect, sir, now is not the time for your smartass remarks. Where is Eren?” You snap, keeping a fast pace to keep up with the group. You and Levi have built an understanding over the years. He knows you are concerned about Eren and he cannot fault you for that.

“Eren decided he was going to play hero and injured himself in combat.” Levi sighed, mumbling “what an idiot” under his breath shortly after. You gasped, furrowing your eyebrows while glaring up at the Captain.

“Please tell me he isn’t dead..” You stammered.

“Like I would let Jeager die.” He scoffed. “He is in the wagon with Mikasa.”

“Okay, thank you, sir.” You nod, standing still so the line can keep moving. Once the wagon that is holding Eren came along, you hopped on. Your man laid on his back, Mikasa right by his side. You kneel on the other side of him.

“Please,” you softly whimper as you meet Mikasa’s emotionless eyes, “tell me he is alright.”

She nodded.

“He is in-and-out of consciousness, but he should be fine.” Mikasa reassured. You let out a sigh of relief.

Softly cupping his scratched up face, you release tears filled with stress, sadness, and even glee. “Oh, Eren. Whatever will I do with you?” You chuckled, softly.

You sat beside Eren’s bedside all evening. Mikasa kept you company. You and her have grown close over the years. She can see how much you truly love and care for Eren which he needs. This does relieve some stress off of her when she cannot be around to protect or scold him from acting on impulse.

Silence filled the room as you both stared at bandaged up Eren. The doctor said he does have a concussion, but should be alright. This calmed both of you.

“How do you do it?” Mikasa finally asks after more minutes pass. You raise an eyebrow, gazing in her direction. She refuses to meet your orbs.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you still willingly love Eren?” She rephrased, her hands finding refuge in her red scarf Eren gave her years ago. You are aware of their history, but your brain cannot seem to compute her question.

“I’m not understanding—“

“Eren is not,” she paused to find the right word, “normal. He comes with a lot of risk. He is a loose cannon. He will more than likely die in battle from his impulsive nature. Why put yourself through that?”

You hesitate to answer. Mikasa is not wrong, unfortunately. Everyday is a worry when it comes to Eren’s wellbeing along with your own. You will never dream of stopping Eren from chasing his aspirations. That wouldn’t be right, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish he was not a military man. He would be home every night with you. So many lonely evenings and deafening sobs.

“I don’t know,” You spoke honestly. Mikasa finally looked at you. “Eren is worth the risk.”

Before Mikasa could pester you any further, Eren stirred in his slumber. His eyes soon awaken and gaze over at you two. You and Mikasa let out a small gasp.

“Eren..” is said in unison by you both.

“Where,” he swallows and places a hand on his forehead, “where am I?”

“You are in recovery. You injured yourself in battle.” You explained to your significant other. Eren nods and starts to sit up, but Mikasa pushes him back down.

“You need to rest.” Mikasa scolds.

“So do you.” Eren argued.

“He’s not wrong, Mikasa.” You concur, placing your hand on her shoulder. “Go rest. I got Eren.”

Usually, Mikasa would protest, but she is exhausted. Her aching body is craving sleep. She also knows that Eren will be in good hands with you around. So, she let out a small sigh and headed out the door. You and Eren are now completely alone.

“You need to rest too, y’know?” Eren states.

“Hard to rest when you are getting injured all of the time.” You countered. Eren rolled his eyes in response.

“You knew this going in, Y/N. It’s my job to keep you safe.“

“You can only keep me safe if you stay alive, Eren.” You snap.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

You looked at your twiddling thumbs, not meeting his intense gaze. You did not want him to see the tears in your eyes. What use would it do? Eren will always choose the army over you. That’s just the facts. You know this is his life purpose. You cannot stand in the way of that.

“Barely.” You finally utter out, still not looking at the man before you. Eren’s breath turns noticeably shaken.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” He interrogated, his voice not coming out as tough as he would appreciate.

“We can discuss things a different time, Eren.” You stand up from your chair and start heading towards the door as tears fall. “You need rest.”

Your hand goes to turn the door knob, but Eren’s is quick to land on-top of yours. You spin around to face your significant other.

“Eren, what the—“ Your question was cut off by Eren’s hunger filled lips. His hands cup your face as all his passion is poured into your dry mouth. You missed these kinds of kisses. You missed the drive this man used to overflow you with. He is making up for it now.

Eren slowly pulls away, keeping his lips inches close to yours as he still holds your face. “Don’t you dare leave me.”He dominantly whispers.

“Like I would.” You mutter out.

A small smile appears on Eren’s face before he proceeds to kiss you. Only this time he forces you against the door. One hand finds their way to your breast while the other still holds your face. His index and middle finger ever so gently play with your nipple as the palm of his hand squeezes your areola. He’s torturing you at this point, but who are you to protest? You missed Eren. You missed his not-so-gentle touch and his way of words.

You missed him.

Eren’s lips left yours to suck and nibble on your earlobe. Soft moans escaped your mouth as you begged for more.

“Better be quiet, princess. Don’t want anyone to hear you.” He scornfully chuckled into your ear.

“I don’t care if anyone hears me. Just fuck me, Eren.” You breathe out. Your sexual drive could not be contained anymore. You need Eren in more ways than one.

Your lips never disconnected as you made your way towards the bed, both of your clothes being discarded within the process. You laid on your back as Eren climbed on top. Your lips finally disconnected. The moonlight lit up the dark room through the window. It laid perfectly on Eren’s features. His muscular form hovered over your naked body. One hand trailed every line of his abs while you moved some of his long brown hair out of his beautiful face.

“This isn’t resting.” You scold, playfully. He rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“Shut up and just take my cock, will ya?”

You both snicker at his remark and begin kissing again. There will never be enough make out sessions to fix what is broken, but it is sure one hell of a start. The skin on skin contact is well perceived. You both just can’t seem to get enough of each other.

Eren pulls away to sit up. He pushes your knees towards your breast, revealing more of your begging cunt. You keep your legs in place with your arms as he aligns his cock with your entrance. You’re already dripping from the anticipation. It has been far too long since you two had sexual intercourse.

“Already a soaking mess, huh?” Eren teases. You did not even have time to make a remark back as his length enters your soaked pussy. Immediate moans escaped your lips as he thrust himself in-and-out. Your tight walls hug his girth and length perfectly.

“God damn, you’re still so fucking tight, babe.” Eren groans as he continues diving every single inch into you. “I need to fuck you more often.”

“Eren—“ You cry. His hips keep colliding with your exposed ass as he hits all the right spots. His hand finds a way to your throat, choking you as he wrecks your precious pussy. Your legs eventually wrap around his waist to keep him from leaving you for too long. His other hand gives occasional hard slaps to your outer thigh. All you can do is moan in pleasure.

Your walls clenched around Eren’s member. His smug smirk grew wider as he felt your cunt’s walls beg him not to leave you hollow for the tiniest of seconds. His blue orbs meet yours.

“HA! Such a cock hungry slut. Already wanna cum again.” Eren cheekily remarks. You feel flustered, but you cannot help that your body betrays you.

“Please let me cum, Eren.” You begged. He always did love playing dominant in the bedroom. He finally let go of your throat so you can provide oxygen to your lungs. His rhythm increased to a higher speed, almost making it impossible to wait for permission.

“Have to beg better than that.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. He really was not going to let you just have this. Your pussy was not going to last much longer. If you want him to continue providing you dick tonight, you need to give this your all and make it count.

“Please Eren. Please let me cum. I’m begging you. I’m,” you gasp as you almost lose control, “not going to last much longer.”

Eren waited a moment to answer. He loved seeing you in agony because of his cock. Feeling your cunt not being able to last much longer as well as him, he nods. “Go ‘head and cum.”

He hardly could get the words out as your pussy released on to Eren. He was sure to follow shortly after as the veins in his member twitch. Cum flowed from the head of his dick into the depths of your cunt. You whimper softly as he milks every drop into you.

He lays next to you once he’s done, holding you close. You both pant, sweat droplets formed at the top of your foreheads. The room was musky, but still. For right now, everything is alright until he leaves once again.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[ailuronymy]

do you think every disabled character in wc is handled poorly? i understand theres def some cases of ableism but at the same time when i hear ppl say that its usually bc the disabled cat wasnt able to become a warrior due to their disability. and i feel like ppl forget, that not everyone irl CAN do what they want after they become disabled. ex. someone wants to be an athlete, but their legs have to be amputated. a cat like briarlight esp i feel is p realistic and could be a source of comfort

Hello there, thank you for writing in. I’m going to reply to this question with a series of questions I think are a bit more useful, given what you’re trying to ask me. I hope that’ll clarify what is a deeply complex, multilayered issue. 

Do I think Erin Hunter handles anything in the series “well”? Not really. I don’t have a high opinion of the work of the collective and, broadly speaking, I think every right note they play, metaphorically speaking, is an instance of chance rather than effort, skill, or intention. Stopped clocks are right twice a day, mediocre writers will sometimes do something cool by accident, similar principle. That’s not to say Erin Hunter hasn’t ever done anything on purpose--just that overall the underlying drive of the series isn’t so much quality as it is quantity, and speed of production, and it shows. 

Do I think Erin Hunter puts any significant research into how they portray disability? No. I do not think it is a priority for this series. They’re not trying to make a meaningful work of literature, or capture a realistic experience of disability, or tell especially impactful or thoughtful stories, or even make a particularly good or coherent fantasy world. Warriors is a specifically commercial product that was commissioned by HarperCollins to appeal to a particular demographic of drama-loving, cat-loving kids. It’s not really trying to do anything but sell books, because it’s a business, so the text in many ways reflects that. They’re not going for disability representation, in my opinion. They’re including disability in many cases as a plot-point or an obstacle. 

Do I think this means that people can’t connect to these characters and narratives in meaningful ways? No. Often I say that a work is completed only when it is read. Before that point, it doesn’t have a meaning: a reader finishes the work through the act of reading, and interpretation, and filling in the spaces and resonance of the story with their own values and experiences. When people talk about subjectivity, this is what they are talking about. What this means in the context of disabled characters in Warriors is that these characters and their stories can be multiple, conflicting, even mutually exclusive things at the same time, to different people, for different reasons. 

Do I think characters have to be “good” to be significant to someone? No. I think genuinely “bad” (i.e., not researched or poorly researched, cliche, thoughtlessly written, problematic, etc. etc.) characters can be deeply meaningful, and often are. Ditto above: for many people, and especially marginalised or stigmatised people, reading is almost always an act of translation, wherein the person is reading against the creative work of the dominant culture in a way that the author likely didn’t intend or didn’t even imagine. There’s a long documented history of this in queer culture, but it’s true for just about everyone who is rarely (or unfairly) represented in media. Disabled people often have to read deeply imperfect works of fiction featuring disability and reinterpret them in the process--whether to relate to a kind of disability they don’t experience themselves but which is the closest they’re offered to something familiar, or to turn positive and meaningful what is intended as narrative punishment, or simply to create what’s commonly called headcanon about “non-disabled” characters who echo their personal experiences. 

Do I think everyone has to agree? Extremely no. As I said before, people will actually always disagree, because all people have different needs and different experiences. What can be interpreted as empowering to one person might be very othering and painful for another. There is no “right” answer, because, again, that is how subjectivity works. This is especially true because marginalised communities are often many different kinds of people with different lives and needs brought together over a trait or traits they share due to the need for solidarity as protection and power--but only in a broad sense. It’s why there is often intracommunity fighting over representation: there isn’t enough, there’s only scraps, and so each person’s personal interpretation can feel threatening to people whose needs are different. You can see examples of this especially when it comes to arguments over character sexuality: a queer female character might be interpreted as bisexual by bisexual people who relate to her and want her to be, while being interpreted as lesbian by lesbians who also relate to her and want her to be like them. Who is correct? Often these different interpretations based on different needs are presented as if one interpretation is theft from the other, when in fact the situation is indicative of the huge dearth of options for queer people. It becomes increasingly more intense when it comes to “canon” representations, because of the long history of having to read against the grain I mentioned above: there’s novelty and, for some people, validation in “canon” certainty. And again, all of this is also true for disabled people and other stigmatised groups. 

Do I think this is a problem? Not exactly. It is what it is. It is the expected effect of the circumstances. Enforced scarcity creates both the need for community organising and solidarity and the oppressive pressure to prioritise one’s self first and leave everyone else in the dust (or else it might happen to you). The system will always pit suppressed people against each other constantly, because it actively benefits from intracommunity fighting. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these, and so on. A solution is absolutely for everyone in community to hold space for these different needs and values, and to uplift and support despite these differences, but it’s not anyone’s fault for feeling threatened or upset when you don’t have much and feel like the thing that you do have is being taken away. It’s a normal, if not really helpful, human response. But until people learn and internalised that the media is multifaceted and able to be many things at once, without any of those things being untrue or impacting your truth of the text, then there will be fighting. 

Do I think my opinion on disability on Warriors is all that important? No, not really. I can relate to some characters in some moment through that translation, but my opinion on, say, Jayfeather is nowhere near as worthy of consideration than that of someone who is blind. I don’t have that experience and it’s not something I can bring meaningful thinking about, really. That’s true for all these characters. If you want to learn about disability, prioritise reading work about disabled rights and activism that is done by disabled people, and literary criticism from disabled people. And as I mentioned above, remember that community isn’t a monolith: it’s a survival tactic, that brings together many different people with disparate experiences of the world. So research widely. 

Finally--do I think there’s only one kind of disabled narrative worth telling? No. For some people, a disabled character achieving a specific, ability-focused dream is a good story. For other people, a story that acknowledges and deals with the realities, and limitations, of disability is a good story. The same person might want both of those stories at different times, depending on their mood. That’s okay. Sometimes there’s power and delight in a fantasy of overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles and defying all expectations. Sometimes there’s value and catharsis in a narrative that delves into the challenges and grief and oppression experienced because of disability. There’s no one truth. 

To round all this off, I’m going to give my favourite example of this, which is Cinderella. I think it’s a great and useful tool, since for many it’s familiar and it’s very simple. Not much happens. In the story, she is bullied and tormented, until a fairy godmother gifts her over several nights with the opportunity to go to a royal ball, where she dances with a prince. The prince eventually is able to find Cinderella, due to a shoe left behind, and they are married. In some versions, the family that mistreated her are killed. In others, they’re forgiven. 

Some people hate the story of Cinderella, because she is seen as passive. She tolerates the bullying and never fights back. She does every chore she’s told. She is given an opportunity by a fairy godmother, and she doesn’t help herself go to the ball. She runs from the prince and he does the work to find her again. Eventually, she’s married and the prince, presumably, keeps her in happiness and comfort for the rest of her life. 

For some, this story is infuriating, because Cinderella doesn’t “save herself”: she is largely saved by external forces. She is seen as a quintessential damsel-in-distress, and especially for people who have been bullied, infantalised, or made to feel less capable or weak, that can be a real point of personal pain and discomfort. 

However, for some others, Cinderella is a figure of strength, because she is able to endure such hostile environments and terrible people and never gives up her gentle nature or her hope. She never becomes cruel, or bitter. She is brave in daring to go outside her tiny, trapped world, and she is brave to let the prince find her. She doesn’t have to fight or struggle to earn her reward of happiness and prove her worth, because she was always deserving of love and kindness. The prince recognises at once, narratively speaking, her goodness and virtue, and stops at nothing to deliver her a better life. 

Depending on the version, the wicked family disfigure themselves for their own greed--or are punished, which for some is a revenge fantasy; or Cinderella forgives them and once again shows her tenacious kindness, which for others is a different revenge fantasy. 

The point? Cinderella is the same character in the same story, but these are almost unrecognisable readings when you put them side-by-side. Which one is right? Which one is better? In my opinion, those are the wrong questions. I hope this (long, sorry) reply is a set of more useful ones. 

[zhongliologist]

Missing You | Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x gender neutral!reader

Genre: Fluff/ slightly suggestive

Words: 2.5k

A/N: just some brainworms bc the zhongli tag needs more content skskks;; if u liked this, and want the nsfw continuation, pls tell me!!

*

There was only one time of the year where you could meet him.

When a hundred lanterns glow golden like bright cor lapis before a deep dark sky, when Mt. Tianheng itself tremor and bow to its very bosom as the Guili Plains remember the hundreds of battles which shook its very ground, when the rich harbor city flourishes itself with aromatic dishes and throes of lively visitors from afar only to see one single important event.

 There was only one time of the year where you could meet him, and it was only during the Rite of Descension.

 "Did you wait for long?"

 A familiar voice greeted, warm and deep. The book on your hands now brought down to your lap as soon as you heard it, waiting for your visitor to find you sitting by the windy balcony. It didn't take long though when you heard his heavy footsteps and the rustling of his clothes.

 "Zhongli…"

 You whispered solemnly to the wind as you took a side glance at him, seeing that he had never changed even for one bit.

 He still had those piercing amber eyes that seem to know more than he had dared to show; the same silky dark hair tied neatly in a low ponytail which rivals the softness of pink silkflowers in spring, and a tall handsome gait that purports old wisdom and intelligence to anyone he encounters.

 It was really him. Zhongli.

 The only man you ever loved.

 He took one step closer, caressing your cheeks from behind; his eyes softening for a moment when he felt your hands cover his as you melted under his touch. There was something about you that he couldn't quite describe; a certain quality, like a gentle warmth opening inside his chest which made his rigidity crumble into ruins.

 "Your hands are cold," you whispered to the inside of his wrist, giving a small kiss to his skin. Your own hands intertwined with his, gently and slowly touching his fingers as to embed the memory of his touch to your mind, for days when you couldn’t see him.

 “And yours are warm,” he remarked, looking down on you with a ghost of a smile as you gazed up into his eyes. “Warmer than anything I’ve ever touched in this world.”

 A small rumble of a chuckle escaped from your lips. “You always say the most poetic of things.”

At your comment, he raised one elegant brow. “Do you not like it? I could stop if you wish, my love.”

 Nestling into one of his palms, you closed your eyes yet your smile never faltered. “No, please don’t stop. I really like that about you—how you view and describe things with such beautiful words. It makes the world more colorful.”  

 “Is that so?”

 His voice was neutral but you can tell he felt relieved by your response. He may not show much, but to you, he is one incredibly endearing man. The way he would share his love for Liyue’s history and culture to you so enthusiastically; or the way he would be so thoughtful and considerate whenever you felt like the ground would swallow you whole. He has always been your anchor, a rock for you to hold on. Hopefully, he felt the same as well.

 “You’ve given my world so much color, you know?” You replied back with a grin, “So much, that you can hardly imagine.”

 Bent down to steal one small peck from your lips, Zhongli gave a deep chuckle as he stared into your eyes with his own—which to you looked as if they held the secrets of the universe.

 “Ah, would you look at this. You aren’t as bad as a poet either,” he remarked with lilt of a playful tone in his voice. “Perhaps you can sell your own book someday.”

 You snorted, grinning. “Are you teasing me now, Zhongli?”

 “Surely not. Must be your imagination,” he replied before closing the gap between your lips once again.

 This time, you both didn’t let go, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips against the other in a slow but sensual kiss. You held on to him tightly as your hands easily finding purchase around his neck, while he kept his hands on your cheeks. Eventually, the both of you pulled away.

 In a breathless whisper, you asked. “Is it my imagination or are you much needier this time?”

 Zhongli can only look at you with eyes mellow and soft, bearing no words of explanation, but for some reason it was enough for you to realize his answer. You cupped his cheek for a moment and gave him another kiss.

 “I missed you, YN.”

 Those words held so much weight compared to everything he had said so far. Those words which directly reflected the turbulent feelings in his heart which he could no longer control. All the longing he had to endure when he was away from you, and the thought of you patiently waiting for this exact moment in time was enough for him to pour it all out in those few measly words which most people take for granted.

 You understood all of that and smiled sweetly at him. “And I’m right here, right now. Let’s enjoy these next few days where we can be together, alright?”

 As his thumb traced circles on your cheeks, the worry in his expression gradually faded away and was replaced by an endearing smile. Yes, there was really something about you that just makes his chest clench so tightly.

 “Why don’t we go inside? It feels a bit drafty out here,” he suggested as he straightened up, refusing to let go of your hand even after you had already stood up and started walking inside the room.

 “So how was it, your business trip?” You asked, placing the book you were reading before on top of a stout cabinet as Zhongli found himself seated on your bed.

 For a moment, he only stared at you with his hand on his chin. “Business trip?”

 “Don’t you go on business trips for almost the entire year?” you asked him, wondering why he could forget such an important detail.

 “Ah, yes. The business trip…,” he replied, still looking as if he was thinking deeply about it. “It was…splendid.”

 “You talk as if you haven’t really been there,” you remarked jadedly, eyes narrowing at him while you untied the heavy braids on your hair.

 “Well, my thoughts are always here in Liyue, and my heart, in you.”

 “You’ve gotten pretty good at sweet talking, haven’t you?” you asked as you pursed your lips. “Childe has been rubbing off on you.”

 To be clearly honest, you always thought Zhongli was a pretty suspicious person. You hardly knew anything about him except for the fact that he works for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and has an abundant knowledge about Liyue and its culture. He never really talks about his family or his childhood. And you were absolutely sure the business trips were phony.

 Where does he go for almost a year then? Why is he only available during the Rite of Descension?

 Well, those were questions which you didn’t really care for the answer.

 “I assure you, my love, that I am only speaking the truth,” he told you indignantly as you got closer to him. “Not a day passes by without me longing for your touch, for the sound of your voice, for your love.”

 “I’ve missed you too, Zhongli,” you replied, grinning as you placed your hands on his shoulders. “You and all of you.”

 There you were standing before him while he easily placed his arms around your waist, drawing you closer to him as if by instinct. Cupping his cheeks, you could only smile at his flattering words; amused by his strange quips.

 “It pains me to know how long you await my arrival every year. How it must have felt lonely to you when I am away, and I am no different. I wish for the day to come where I am allowed to embrace you like this forevermore,” he said as he closed his eyes to feel the gentleness of your fingertips.

 “Wasn’t it you who told me time is irrelevant?” you asked, giggling. “A second may pass by forever; and forever may pass by in a second.”

 “Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling on your chest as his hands roamed your lower back. “Time neither flows forward nor backward. It skips and jumps and goes by in a blink of an eye. There is no arrow of time. I know that all too well.”

 You arched a brow at him. “You do?”

 For once, Zhongli smirked as he deftly guided your back to the bed and hovered just above you. “As a matter of fact, you are no stranger to it as well.”

 “Me?” you asked in bewilderment, wondering where he was going on with this. “I’m sure time moves normally for me.”

 “Ah, was that too cryptic?” he asked when his face was just a few inches away from you. “If words lend no help, then perhaps my actions will make you understand.”

 Without waiting for any reply, Zhongli pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Moving sensually yet at the same time as gently as he could, you couldn’t help but give into the kiss; your arms wrapping around his shoulders without second thought.

 “Zhongli…mmn…” you whispered as you felt his hands creep underneath your clothes. “What…”

 Instead of responding, he only pushed deeper; waiting for a moment to push his tongue pass your lips. You weren’t able to resist him and could only gasp as he intertwined with yours. It left you in a daze as the heat of the moment rushed to your cheeks, making you sweat. You could only cling to him tightly while enjoying a kiss you had waited for almost a year.

 Eventually, he pulled away and glanced at you, breathless and eyes blown wide. Then and there you finally understood what he meant by knowing it all too well, when you felt that the kiss was too short, too fast.

 “It has dawned on you, hasn’t it, my love?” he asked with a smile, before pressing small kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead; then to your nose and tracing back to your lips. “How time often flies too fast…how time often moves too slowly. It’s as if you have become the master of my time.”

 “Funny how you said the exact same thing when we first met,” you replied as you brush his locks away from his face.

 “Have I?” he asked with a thoughtful expression. “That is no surprise, however. You made my whole day vanish in a second.”

 Without removing your hands from his cheeks, you gently caressed him as you replied. “Did you enjoy my company that much?”

 “In fact, I do,” he said as he gazed right into your eyes, as if putting you under his spell. “Not too many have an interest in Liyue’s past traditions in this present day. It was a wonder to have met you that day.”

 “Well, it is my job as a scholar to research about these things It’s only natural for me to be interested,” you told him. “It’s amazing how meeting you felt too long ago, and now we’re here.”

 To Zhongli, those were days when time seemed to move in a snail’s pace. Days crept and months crawled so slowly as the growing desire to see you only became stronger and more prominent.  Whenever he was away from you, he was worried he might not see you again when he returns to Liyue. Year after year, that fear was simply exacerbated by his greed for your love.

 “You are my one and only, YN,” he told you as he stole one chaste kiss before nuzzling on your shoulders, and taking in your scent. “I shall do everything in my power in order to be with you. Even if I have to make a deal with the devil. I promise you that.”

 You could only sigh at his declaration. There was no way you could possibly convince him out of that thought—it wasn’t obvious, but he can be fairly stubborn. Yet even so, you’ll try.

 “Zhongli, you don’t have to do anything. I am content with waiting for you. Even if I feel lonely, even if I we can’t be together like other couples do, I’ll stay with you because you’re the only person I will ever love.”

 You continued after a beat as he lifted his head up to gaze into your eyes; his amber orbs glimmering against the reflection of the night.

 “If time moves however it wants to, and the concept of the ‘past’ and the ‘future’ no longer matter, then I will only think about the ‘present’,” you replied, your hand brushing his long silky hair, feeling the strands between your fingers. “A present where you and I exist at the same place and at the same time is all that matters now.”

 As you said those words, Zhongli caught your hand and began kissing your fingers gently one by one. By now, he might’ve kissed you for a hundredth time already. Maybe at the end of the night, the number will go so far as to a million.

 “Very well said, my love,” he remarked with a smile, still not done kissing your palm. “How is it that you know exactly what I feel?”

 “I could say the same to you.” You grinned as you held on to his coat, “Now, take these off. We don’t have all night.”

 Zhongli raised a brow at you with a rather enigmatic smile as he sat up straight. “As far as I remember, have you not told me that you care not for time?”

 You pursed your lips at his subtle teasing. “Do you want me or not?”

 Making a low chuckle, Zhongli simply glanced at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. While he may not be the type to flirt as much, he just knows what buttons to push to make you feel like putty in his hands.

 “Forgive me, my love.” He crawled back to you, easily unfastening his coat and vest, as it slid on the floor with a loud rustle. “I was unaware of your excitement. Allow me to rectify.”

 “You want this as much as I do,” you retorted back as your arms easily wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

 Zhongli scoffed and smirked as he threw his tie right on the floor—that looked downright sexy. “There is nothing to correct.”

 In a heartbeat, Zhongli once again captured your lips, and it was nothing like before. Passion burning like a wildfire as your lips moved against each other in a frenzy; breaths too heavy as excitement made your heart pound in erratic beats. Every kiss you could’ve shared in a single year poured into one moment, as he pushed deeper into your mouth; as his hands easily found your skin to touch.

 “Zhongli…wait!” You muttered breathlessly as he moved to pepper kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

 “I have waited long enough, my love,” he replied, his lips now nibbling on your earlobe; his unbuttoned shirt easily revealing his toned chest as he moved closer to you. 

“I cannot wait for much longer.”

[halloweenhoneylover]

the window

summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.

DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!

You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”

From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”

“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”

She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”

Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”

Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”

Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”

She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.

“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”

“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented. 

“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”

“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”

“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”

Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”

Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”

 “But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?” 

Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”

You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”

“Well, I hope he likes his present.”

The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.” 

You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”

Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”

——— 

It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.

By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk. 

“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.

“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”

“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”

“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!�� you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”

“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.

“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.

“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.

“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics. 

You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”

Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”

“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”

“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”

He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.

He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”

“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.” 

Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.

“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.

When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”

Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale. 

A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember. 

You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.

The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again. 

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now. 

He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him. 

It felt so good.

But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how. 

His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”

Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”

“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”

“Spencer—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”

Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”

You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt. 

So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.

So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”