#he’s crunchy. if that makes sense

[curtain-caller]

The Parallels Between Korsica and Roquefort

So, when I was setting up my plans for Fly-High Rush, things were a bit one-sided in terms of group numbers, so instead of keeping Korsica the same, I decided to swap her and Roquefort. I figured they were similar enough to make a switch work.

But then I realized they were... really similar. Like, very, very similar. The comparisons just kept coming and they didn't stop.

So here we are. Welcome to my Ted Talk.

1. WIND ATTACKS:

Let's get one of the bigger comparison out of the way: both of them fight with wind. Korsica uses it all the time, from turning off generators to putting out fires to kicking Chai's ass. Then there's Roquefort, who throws out little tornadoes during his fight and tries to send Chai flying with his Big Bad Wolf attack several times. That move also requires Korsica specifically to hold it back with her own wind gust. Yeah, not much to say here.

2. Connection to a Vandelay Sibling:

See, this is the point that really got the gears turning in my head. Both of them have a close connection to a Vandelay sibling who saved their lives: Roquefort to Kale, and Korsica to Peppermint.

"I was on my deathbed when Kale saved me. I was smart, but weak. He fixed that." - Roquefort

"Your wound was really bad...We didn't have a choice." - Peppermint "You... saved my life." - Korsica

Not to say Peppermint saved Korsica single-handedly (shout out to Mac and CNMN, the true mvps), but then again, I doubt Kale painstakingly upgraded Roquefort's body piece by piece on his own, so my point still stands. Both Vandelay siblings had a hand in saving their lives respectively, and because of that, you can see the bonds formed between these two duos.

Peppermint tries to be welcoming and reassuring to Korsica when she first comes to after Kale's murder attempt, and Korsica returns that reassurance later on in Mimosa's level. She hasn't even been with the gang for a full mission yet, is probably still getting used to these changes, and she still tries to comfort Peppermint, especially during her "Kale's my brother" reveal.

Not to mention, during the optional conversations in Roquefort's office before you face Kale, Korsica's dialogue is slightly different in terms of topic. Everyone has something to say regarding their own specific character arcs and motivations, but part of Korsica's dialogue is specifically her worrying about Peppermint.

"But I'm a bit worried about Peppermint. This is personal for her." - Korsica "After all we've been through, it might not be easy... but I think she can handle it." - Chai "You might be right about that, but we need to be there for her when she needs it." - Korsica

Now going back to Kale and Roquefort, while their interactions are brief, you can tell that both of them have at least some respect for each other, which is a hell of a lot more than they give to most of the other Department Heads. Especially Kale.

"Zanzo, Stop. Just stop. Even you jumped the shark on this one. IN THE EYE? What the shit?" - Kale to Zanzo (via SPECTRA Hub vlog) "Only one of of four, Korsica? That's not a passing grade." - Kale to Korsica "It better! No slip-ups! And no defects." - Kale to Mimosa and Rekka Versus...

"Why not? I want to see just how angry you can get, if those punks make it in here." - Kale to Roquefort Sure, Kale still lashes out at him, he's not nice all of a sudden, but it feels like such a massive difference. Kale questions why he ever hired Zanzo, he tried to straight up KILL Korsica, and he's harsh enough to Mimosa and Rekka to the point that they flinch. Hell, REKKA of all people flinches twice. But here? Kale trusts Roquefort to handle things, even if he is a bit dismissive with the "you're just a number cruncher" line.

And on the other side of things, Roquefort is not only loyal to Kale, but surprisingly calm and casual around him. Casual enough to correct him and talk back.

"We...shut down the cafe." - Roquefort "When I said close the campus down, I didn't mean THE CAFE!" - Kale "You said close down everything." - Roquefort

The casual tone of voice is palpable. I genuinely think that's the least angry we see Roquefort, except maybe during the Boss Zoom meeting.

And if you want to go the shipping route, yes, shout out to my lesbians, not much to prove there, but... Hey Kale, do you want to explain why you, a confirmed dog person, gave Roquefort a robotic wolf fursuit? YOU WANNA EXPLAIN THAT??? HUH???

3. Similar Personalities:

They're cold, they're direct, and they're aggressive, and despite their rare goofy moments, I feel comfortable saying they're the most serious of the Department Heads.

Excluding the visual aspects (because this point would be null and void thanks to Roquefort fursuit), these two are by far the least hammy of the bosses. Unlike the others, who provide witty banter, plenty of cheesy lines and over-dramatic reactions, the dialogue for these two is rarely comedic or high-energy.

Here's some examples for comparison:

"I like defects. I like how they taste." - QA-1MIL

"So let's get ready to crumble!" - Rekka

Do I even need an example for Zanzo?

"Let's raise the stakes, and turn down the lights!" - Mimosa

"You've had a few hits, but I think it's time we break up the band." - Kale

Compare that to...

"Caught you off guard." - Korsica "I'll make sure you stay down this time!" - Korsica "You cocky LOSER!" - Korsica

"You sure made an entrance, lad. If you've come for me... I'd walk away." - Roquefort "Where's your confidence now, kid?" - Roquefort "I put my stock in futures, but not yours, kid." - Roquefort

The other bosses are willing to taunt and even go along with Chai's goofiness, but these two? Oh, they don't have much time for that. They barely hesitate, and are not holding back in the slightest. Korsica fucking yeets him down a slope, puts him in a headlock, knocks him out, does whatever she can to hold him back from getting to her office, and only pauses briefly to gaze upon his stupidity before whipping her batons out when he busts in. Even after she gets knocked out and sustains, like, 3 different flavors of concussion(5 if you count Chai and the vent hitting her), she gets RIGHT BACK UP! In a way, Roquefort is a bit more lenient, letting Chai into his office once he gets that far... but the "I'm not fucking around" energy is still there. He's like "Oh, you're really that determined? I respect it. Come at me, kid, I'm not fucking scared." And then he proceeds to back that up. He doesn't even bother attacking Chai with his regular form at first (or at all, frankly), he goes from 0 to 100 and refuses to fall somewhere in the middle. And finally, there's one similarity between them personality-wise that gets its own section, that being how...

4. They're Fueled by Anger:

Basically every boss is aggressive in some way, throwing all kinds of things at Chai as he consistently grinds their 30 day chips from anger management to dust, but here's the thing... When I say "fueled by anger", I mean health-wise. These two heal themselves on-screen because of their anger. With Roquefort, this is pretty well established. He constantly says that all Chai is doing is making him angrier, and that so long as he's mad, he won't be stopped, to the point that thousands of pounds of gold getting the drop on him was the only thing that could take him down. During the verse/phase changes, you can see his health bar quickly refill itself each time, and his wolf form model viewer description wraps this all up in a nice, neat little bow with this line: "Powered by Roquefort's own anger, attacking it will only make it more aggressive and powerful." Now, getting to Korsica... I'll only say this one thing. Can we just acknowledge she went from THIS:

TO THIS:

ALL BECAUSE CHAI CALLED HER OBLIVIOUS??? SHE'S OUT FOR BLOOD, SHE WANTS THAT TWINK OBLITERATED. "That's it! Now I'm mad!" - Korsica Anger Management? More like Angry Management, am I right?

5. Chai is Out of his Element:

*Holds Chai up by the scarf* Get his ass, you two (I say this affectionately)

Yeah, Chai is severely out of his element with both of them. These two fights are especially humbling for him, albeit for opposite reasons. Korsica is the one boss Chai can't just run in and beat the crap out of, so we see him struggle a lot as he constantly rolls nat 1s on charisma. He and the gang go through, like, three different plans in the span of the whole boss fight; first going with Peppermint's plan to state the facts and stay cool, followed by Chai's plan of trying to tire her out until she's willing to listen, and finally ending with "Fuck it, let's just kidnap her, we'll work on a plan D later". And to top it all off, Korsica throws an entire new addition to the parry mechanic at Chai in the middle of all of this, and he just has to keep rolling with it. For Roquefort's fight, I think it's pretty clear that Chai is TERRIFIED of him. He goes in all cocky and confident, thinking Roquefort's a pushover, and gets humbled QUICK when Roquefort reveals his true nature. You only very briefly see his confident attitude resurface during this fight, like when he knocks Roquefort through the glass pane to his money vault. Otherwise, he's either terrified or exhausted, especially at the end, gritting his teeth and getting ready to keep fighting because he has no other option. Not to mention the others are constantly reassuring and being protective of Chai during the fight via their call-in dialogue. Chai is straight up NOT having a good time. At least he got an unintentional nap after Korsica's fight, dude needs a rest after dealing with Roquefort. Where's SMIDGE when you need him, dude needs an energy drink, stat.

6. Boss Music:

Okay so I am NOT well-versed in musical vocabulary so like... bear with me on this. Hopefully this is coherent. Anyways, Negotiation and The Fizzith just... have the same vibe to me. Yes, I'm mostly focusing on The Fizzith, I believe in Streamer Mode Supremacy. First of all, I guess I can start off by saying that they're the only bosses with pure instrumentals for their tracks, with everyone else having lyrics in theirs. Second of all, both of their song formats just sound so... similar to me? Idk how to describe it, but like... They both start with a dramatic build up as they instill the fear of God in Chai, with Roquefort having that iconic classical music "DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUN" intro and Korsica having a shorter, but still just as powerful, build up as she jumps up and whips her batons out. This is then followed by, like, a slightly softer and steadier follow up as it proceeds with the rest of the intro cutscene, as Roquefort leaps over Chai and Korsica turns down Chai's offer to talk. Then the tension gradually grows as the fight goes on, with each phase adding another instrument or two to make things more intense. The Fizzith is already a lot more intense than Negotiation at the start, but you can still hear the build up with each phase for both. And then finally, there's a small "calm before the storm" section, aka where Chai almost talks Korsica down, and when Roquefort is amping up for his final Big Bad Wolf attack. Roquefort's goes back to a steady sort of beat for a moment, while Korsica's has that quiet clapping and softened tone. This is then followed by an intense, deep, high-energy climax as Korsica starts throwing everything she has at you, and as Roquefort sends this lengthy tornado sound-wave barrage at you. While this format is by no means an original one (hell, I noticed a lot of this in Mimosa's fight too), there's just something about their music that just... feels interconnected to me. Like, if I had to sit down and imagine any other boss having a parry-based boss fight like Korsica's, just going by their boss fight music, I'd go for Roquefort (with Mimosa as a close second). And genuinely, I have actually sat down and imagined it, and it's almost perfect. I'm connecting the two dots, motherfuckers (I'm not connecting shit) I'M CONNECTING THEM-

7. Control Over Security:

And with that, we're now arriving at the much smaller points that I don't have as much to discuss about. So I don't really need to say much about Korsica during this section, for obvious reasons. But as for Roquefort, he IS the one who takes over once Korsica's out of the picture and shit starts to hit the fan. "Kale, I prioritized shielding the tower. Reallocated the budget so not a bug will get in." - Roquefort And both of them are damn good at holding Chai and the others back. Korsica takes 3 whole stages to get to her, keeping you on your toes the whole time with lasers, brakes, and enemies galore. I imagine it would've been difficult as hell to get into the Security Department in the first place if Chai didn't get knocked out and held for questioning. And while his segment is pretty short, all things considered, Roquefort gives it his all to shield Vandelay Tower, locking it down so well that even the smartest members of the TEA-m are stumped. Chai's the only one with an idea, and even that had several hurdles. The second they started connecting to the cannon to launch Chai, security comes rushing in, and he probably would've gotten caged in if SMIDGE didn't unintentionally hold the door open for him. Let's also not forget the big-screened wanted posters, the whole Invaders Must Die cafeteria fight, and that one specific fucking bird that threw Chai around like a hacky sack. THEY. WANT. THIS. TWINK. OBLITERATED.

8. Their Affection Towards Cats:

Korsica has a folder on her computer labeled "CAT Gifs", and Roquefort fawns over 808 when she uses her Steal the Show ability. I rest my case.

9. Accidental Puns:

Okay, so I would've titled this "both like puns", but the jury's still out on Korsica in my opinion. Yeah, Chai says she's lying about hating puns, but to me, she seems like she's... on the fence of liking them. Like, she's hesitantly annoyed by them. But I CAN say that they've both accidentally made a pun. "You think you can strong-arm ME?" - Korsica "Hey, YOU chose to fight-...Wait, you like puns too?" (points at his arm) - Chai "What? No!" - Korsica "Roquefort here. Shut this place down! Protect Finance at all costs! (Heh, I said "costs!") - Roquefort "Ughhhhhhhh." - Peppermint

10. Probably Awakened Something in Players:

It's no wonder how thirsty the fandom is when these two have some of the most charged lines in the game... "You broke my concentration. So how 'bout I break you?" - Korsica "Let's take this somewhere a bit more secure. So we don't disturb the neighbors." - Roquefort Welcome to Hi-Fi Rush, where they appeal to both the "I love the kind of woman who could kick my ass" community and the furry werewolf boyfriend sugar daddy community.

11. Visual/Dialogue Similarities:

Finishing this off is a section dedicated to miscellaneous visual or dialogue similarities that I couldn't fit elsewhere.

(The camera zooms in before I can get a good shot of Korsica actually ON her desk, so standard shot it is.) TOP 10 WAYS TO ENHANCE YOUR LEADERSHIP SKILLS IN THE WORKPLACE #1: Jump onto your desk to establish dominance

Smug little losers...

GET FUCKING YEETED

Man, they even intimidated the camera man, they can't keep it straight.

Spiky, anime-ass hair/fur. Triangular.

Of course they have blue eyes and nails and pronouns (ft. Chai living the dream) Also, speaking of blue... maybe it's because both of theirs glow blue, but some of their cybernetics have the same vibe to me.

Mostly just the chest and the arms (since that's all Korsica's got). Maybe I'm just looking too hard but like... the blue tubes connected to the arms, the glowing chest... Okay, I'm running out of red string for my evidence board, moving on. Anyways, not as much to bring up about remaining dialogue similarities, but I still have a few. "Is that a floating cat? Ugh, nothing about you even makes sense!" - Korsica "The numbers are in... and YOU are OUT!" - Chai "Wow. That makes no sense, you idiot!" - Roquefort Behold Chai's natural ability to deal psychic damage by not making any sense whatsoever. And finally... mission plan dialogue. "Mission report. Just...go up." - Peppermint "Up?" - Chai "Up." - Peppermint "That's it?" - Chai "Looks like Korsica's in her office, and it's on the top floor. Hence, "up"." - Peppermint

"Chai, you're doing it! The Tower is unguarded. We're headed your way." - Korsica "Chai! Roquefort's office is a couple floors above you. Get up there and kick his ass!" - Peppermint When in doubt: go up.

So in conclusion...

[fisheito]

I had a thought I’d like to share with the class. So we know that Kuya is super bored all the time but what if he sets up traps for Quincy. Bullying Quincy is his step above bullying normal forest creatures. Kuya sets up puzzles for his ex husband to solve and just sits in a tree watching him get out of his traps. Quincy takes into account the possibility of getting caught in a trap whenever he goes out hunting and includes it in his schedule. (I love them, they’re so husband.)

Quincy has also probably learned that the best method for dealing with Kuya is to run away because it deprives him of any enjoyment. Kuya is probably so pissed off when he does this tho like: “>:0 How dare you not fall into the trap I spent hours constructing for my own amusement.” So Quincy probably knows he has to solve at least one of Kuya’s traps per week if not he risks Kuya going insane. It’s his enrichment.

Now onto my thought: What if in one of his latest traps he turns Quincy into an animal, just for the funsies. Latest trap turns Quincy into one of those giant tortoises if he doesn’t solve it quickly enough. Then Kuya kidnaps him and keeps him in his garden. Quincy is completely fine with this because Kuya will probably just turn him back when he gets bored.

Meanwhile Topper is like, “Oh shit, I gotta go tell Eiden” so he makes his way to Aster’s mansion to tell him. Except Eiden is having a hard time understanding Topper so he gets Yakumo. Yakumo also thinks he’s misunderstanding what Topper is saying. Then they think about it for two seconds and are like, “Yeah that does sound like something Kuya would do.” So they get their asses over to the Wood Territory, accompanied by Rei because he’s curious about how Kuya managed to turn Quincy into an animal.

Meanwhile Quincy is living his best life eating the vegetation in Kuya’s garden and not having responsibilities. He’s killing two birds with one stone so he’s not complaining. Eiden gets there and the conversation goes something like this.

Eiden: Why would you turn him into a giant turtle, you need to turn him back.

Kuya: First of all he’s a tortoise. Second, he likes it.

Rei: What kind of kink is this?

Quincy: *munching on a piece of lettuce*

Eventually they convinced Kuya to turn him back but you know damn well he’s gonna do something similar next week.

Thank you for sharing with the class...!! 🤓🔍🤏🧐 why..... you certainly brought up many ideas that i never considered. a very enligtheninggn story. . . a narrative of silly proportions.. makes me want to eat some lettuce

[sincaraz]

here he is struggling with the grip stickies (from feb 12th)

[deepfriedpaddymayne]

some hot takes

[reinabeestudio]

explodes my ears for my specialest lil guy

[apollosbirthdayplaylist]

藤井 風 (Fujii Kaze) - Working Hard

[simcardiac-arrested]

FUCK YESSSSS GOT ME KICKING MY LEGS IN THE SCHOOL HALL AND SHIT AUEHGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH€\>\€|>+[%]£.!.’dhwkwyeoensndvdnxslshrkueiw€\$\€\*[&:)3917:&;!.’z

who let him cook!

(@simcardiac-arrested's character, No Way Back)

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

[punkbarbarian]

for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”

That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.

Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

[lilacqiqis]

A/N:Uwaaa first actual post on this blog!! I'm excited and hopefully you guys (3 people) will like it <3-Mod Lilac

Hair playing (ft. Naruto, Kakashi, Hinata, Itachi, Sasuke. GN!reader)

tw: none

More under the cut

🌙 It's no shock that Naruto loves being affectionate in every way possible, having his hair played with is one of his favorite activities!

🌙 Pat your lap and he'll get the signal instantly, rushing up to you and putting his chin on your thighs with that iconic smirk.

🌙 Give his scalp a few scratches, it's comforting to him. His hair is oddly soft despite him seeming like he has a shitty hair routine... Wonder what his hair care routine is? "Heheh, I don't really have a routine... I just dip my hair in the hot springs and call it a day!" Maybe the hot springs has some kind of magic imbued in it?

🌙 Sometimes, Naruto will play around with your hair. He's a goof, and ends up messing up your hairstyle or tugging too hard... He'll apologize with a crooked smile, so don't get too mad at him <3

🌻 Kakashi doesn't mind it when you play with his hair. It's nice, actually. Reading his book while you run your fingers through his gray locks... It's a peaceful moment he'll cherish.

🌻 He'd also like if he was pressed between your thighs while you played with his hair, so do the man a favor and indulge him a little. It's nothing inherently sexual... Kakashi just likes your thighs.

🌻 He loves falling asleep on your lap while you mess with his hair. Perhaps you can take his vulnerable sleeping state to pull down his mask... Nope. He'll catch your wrist and stop you before you get the chance to. Perhaps he has a special sixth sense for that...

🌻 Sometimes, Kakashi will tie your hair for you (if it is long enough to tie). It's a small act of affection, but it's sweet regardless. He isn't exactly one to play with your hair often, but sometimes he'll grab a strand while you're talking and twirl it between his fingers.

🦋 Hinata is such a sweet girl, letting you do what you want as long as it makes you happy. And if playing with her hair makes you happy, then she's more than willing to sit down and let you run your fingers through her hair.

🦋 She doesn't mind at all if you randomly play with her hair, she's glad you like her hair so much! Who wouldn't though? Her hair is silky and long, absolutely gorgeous. She takes extremely good care of it and her hair has a soft scent of lavender.

🦋 If you ever asked, she'd help you do your hair. Hinata enjoys brushing your hair, but if you prefer it messy she's fine with that too.

🦋 Tie her hair and do different hair dos! She'll love it, a pink hue on her cheeks as you braid or curl her hair. Even if you suck at it, Hinata will try to compliment you regardless on your skills.

🌹 You want to play with Itachi's hair? Go right ahead, darling. If it makes you happy... Itachi is happy too. He'll untie his hair and crouch down to lay his head on your lap, letting you do as you wish.

🌹 The look he gives you while you run your fingers through his strands is so... Soft. He enjoys your touch, being as touch starved as he is. He'll run circles on your thigh with his hand, giving you the sweetest smile.

🌹 Let him pamper you as well, he loves taking care of you and making you feel good. Itachi will return the favor with soft kisses as he motions for you to lay in his lap.

🌹 King of scalp massages, the way he runs his hands through your hair is comforting, he doesn't care if your hair is crunchy either the man persists. Please don't tell him no, he's just so eager to make you comfortable and happy, it makes him twice as joyful. But if you really don't like it he'll stop, not wanting to go against your wishes.

🌱 "What? No, don't touch my hair."

🌱 Proceeds to get mad when you say it's okay. Sasuke really expects you to pressure him so he can pretend he hates it 😭. If you do pressure him however he'll grumble and say "Fine. I'm only letting you do this because you'll just keep pestering me."

🌱 Acts uninterested as you play around with his hair, but he is ecstatic on the inside. He won't admit that ever, not even to himself, but this makes him feel extremely comfortable.

🌱 I don't see Sasuke as the type of person to play with your hair, and he's probably refuse if you asked him to. What a spoiled boy... Don't worry, he'll get more soft as time goes on.

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Nine

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, marijuana usage, sweet dirty talk and praise, fingering, oral, p in v, fluffy sex <3

if you’re uncomfortable with smut, this chapter can be skipped with no impact on the plot <3 it can also be read as a stand-alone if desired.

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist |

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was nine at night and you and Az were the only two in the house.

Rhys had made reservations for him and Feyre at an upscale restaurant half an hour away, a place where his father used to take his mother on special occasions. You'd been nosy and googled it. It was the kind of place with candlelit tables and a string quartet in the corner, where the waitstaff wore tuxedos and addressed you by title.

Mor and Cassian were out, too. The twins they’d met at Summit were staying in some house twenty minutes away and throwing a huge party. They tried to drag you and Az along, but the idea of squeezing into a crowded house with a bunch of strangers didn’t really compare to the night you had in mind. So you and Azriel had politely declined, both secretly craving something more enjoyable—smoking a fat joint and enjoying the quiet, just the two of you.

You sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs idly as Az finished preparing your snacks— the main thing that brought you both to the kitchen to begin with. Your mouth was still slightly dry from the joint, that earthy aftertaste still lingering in the back of your throat.

“This isn’t a conspiracy theory because it’s like, an actual thing,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “But I love the fact that so many of those sea monsters we read about were probably just whale penises.”

Azriel stilled, turning to look at you with an amused brow. “What?”

You nodded emphatically, cheeks aching from the deep smile still on your face. “People would see these giant, weird things sticking out of the water and think it was some sort of sea serpent or whatever, but it was actually just a whale showing off it’s huge dick.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment before he burst out into laughter. The sound dissipated throughout the room and you swore it made it lighter, made the kitchen glow with a sense of life it didn't have a few moments prior. You weren't sure how it was possible, but somehow your smile grew even wider.

There was something about Azriel’s laugh that felt energizing, especially when you were high. It was something far more than just a sensory experience. You watched as he shook his head, the curls on his hair moving as his eyes found yours again. Slightly puffy, bright with amusement.

“I have to show you. It’s crazy.” You moved to grab your phone from its current place face-down on the counter next to you.

Azriel reached out and covered your hand with his. “Nooo.”

“Az, you have to.”

“Later, maybe.” His expression softened as he looked at you, the laughter fading into a tender smile. “But first, taste test time.”

You sat up straighter, looking down at the plate in front of him. “They’re ready?”

You’d had a specific craving—something sweet, gooey, and crunchy. Azriel had taken it upon himself to make your dream come true. He made do with what was in the pantry, melting down marshmallows and making a pan of small home-made rice krispy bars. He’d covered them with Nutella, rolling them up like some delicacy you’d find in a high-end bakery.

His smile widened, and without a word, he held one out for you. You eagerly accepted it, your fingers brushing against his before you brought the treat to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed, and a moan left your lips as the sweet, rich flavors exploded on your tongue.

“How is it?”

You nodded, head bobbing as you took another gluttonous bite.

“It’s perfect,” you said, finally finding the strength to open your eyes and look at him. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He chuckled softly, watching as you took another bite. “Yeah?”

You nodded again. “You could be a chef. I would pay you to stay in the kitchen, looking all pretty and making food for me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “So a trophy chef.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He laughed again, bringing his hands to either side of your thighs as he leaned in closer. “What happened to me being a spy, huh?”

You shrugged lightheartedly. “That too. Honestly, Az, you could be anything you wanted.”

He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing slightly, the corners of his lips still curved in that half-smile that made your heart skip.

“Because I can make little treats?” He asked.

You cocked your head at him, running your gaze over his face. “Because you’re so good at putting yourself to the task at hand.”

Azriel blinked, and the crease between his brows softened. You watched as something crossed through his face, something wistful and warm.

“What?” you asked when he didn't speak.

“Nothing.”

You let your thoughts wander as you finished the treat in your hand. Everyone seemed to have a clear idea of what they wanted— or, at least, an idea of where their ambitions lied. But Azriel was different. He was like you. Hesitant, unsure. Back in freshman year, he’d taken a few criminology classes he loved. He had a passion then, but as the years went by you assumed he’d switched gears, choosing to focus on his general education classes instead. Azriel understood the pressure of fitting into a mold you weren't entirely sure about.

“What do you wanna do, Az?”

Azriel’s face grew thoughtful, his gaze scanning your face as if searching for something. His eyes flickered and then a smile, slow and soft, spread across his lips. He leaned in just a fraction closer. “I want to kiss you.”

You felt a rush of heat and looked down at your lap, nervously brushing your hands together. “That’s not what I meant.”

Azriel lifted your chin with a delicate finger, bringing your gaze to his. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully. “No?”

His gaze flicked to somewhere below your eyes. A second later, he brought his thumb to the corners of your lips, gently wiping away what you knew was probably excess chocolate.You inhaled sharply and felt something deep in your chest – something like a wire strung tight, ready to sing with the slightest touch. You’d been craving him for so long now. You could feel that familiar sensation, that burning desire simmering low in your gut. The way those damn grey sweatpants hung on his hips didn’t help matters either.

His touch lingered on your skin, hovering just above your bottom lip. Before he could pull his hand away, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking off the remaining chocolate.

Azriel’s breath hitched, lips parting in surprise. The low groan that left his lips next invigorated you, pushing you to bring your tongue around his thumb, swirling and sucking on it. When he met your gaze, you slowly released it, and he traced it along your bottom lip as a shaky breath escaped him.

“We have the house to ourselves."

With darkened eyes, Az ran his thumb along your lips again, swallowing hard. You traced the motion down the column of his throat. Before you could fully register the loss of his touch, his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You gasped as he positioned himself between your legs, and instinctively, you wrapped them around him.

"Az.."

He closed the gap between you, lips crashing against yours as he kissed you deeply. You weren't sure if you'd ever get used to it. Perhaps it was a very strong honeymoon period, that the way Az kissed you felt magical because it had only been two weeks of this. But you felt starved, felt as if you needed more and more of him to satiate you— yet even still, you were insatiable.

You nipped at his lower lip, moved yourself to press against him further. You let him take the lead, letting out a breathy moan against his lips at the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck and you arched into him, welcomed him with a bared throat and a tug to his curls. His touch was everywhere at once—his hands roaming over your back, his lips trailing down your collarbone. Your body sang with every movement, with the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

You could feel the heat of his breath against you as he nipped and kissed his way to your ear.

“Do we want to go upstairs?”

You nodded before words could form. Nodded as you tangled your fingers further into his hair, nodded as you pulled him to your face, bringing him into another kiss. "Yes," you whispered between breaths. “Yes, please."

Azriel’s smile brushed against your skin as he kissed you back.

You made your way up the stairs, every step wobbly and uncoordinated as Az attempted to lead you both, lips still locked, his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Shit." Azriel cursed as he bumped against the well, the pictures frames rattling with the impact. You pulled back, steadying yourself against the wall as your laughter bubbled up.

"Az," you playfully scolded through a breath, "You're going to knock everything down."

He only shushed you with a mischievous smile, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back into his orbit. Another frame tilted askew as he maneuvered you both along. You pulled away for a moment, your gaze falling to the framed photo in front of you, the one you'd come to love so dearly. It got better every time you saw it, from the pizza in Mor's braces to the nauseatingly sweet frame of awkward fifteen year old Azriel.

"I love this photo," you said, pointing to it with a delicate smile. "Look at you."

Azriel glanced at it, his face scrunching in mock horror. "That’s a horrendous photo," he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. He broke apart, shaking his head against yours. "Don’t look at it."

"But Az—"

"Don’t look!" He insisted, and you laughed into his kiss.

"I love hearing you laugh," Azriel murmured against your lips, "And that I'm the one causing it." He kissed you again. "But right now," he said, his voice dropping to a low, heated murmur, "I’d much rather be making you moan.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You melted into his touch, feeling your skin set alight as his hands roamed, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that tasted of deep desire, something sweet and smoky like longing. The touch of a lover craving another.

You stumbled together into your room— the nearest one to the stairs, and the door slammed shut behind you. Azriel fumbled with the strings of his waistband, fingers slipping as he struggled to undo the knot.

"Ah, fuck," he said, voice still tinged with that sense of amusement, that laugh still in his tone. A few seconds later, his sweats were halfway down his leg, tangling around his ankles as he tried to kick them off.

"Careful," you warned, trying to stifle your laughter. Azriel then watched, amused, as you struggled to pull off your shirt, the fabric snagging on your earrings. And when you'd managed to free yourself, your hands were on him, slipping under his shirt, curious fingers skimming over the hard planes of his stomach. You tugged the fabric over his head, taking in the grin that played on his lips.

The shirt sailed through the air, landing haphazardly on your bedside lamp. You and Az laughed, a shared sound that he swallowed as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands were on you, guiding you back, and you were both still laughing as you fell back onto your bed in a tangle of limbs, all clothes besides his underwear long removed and thrown in a corner. Azriel leaned over you, face flushed, eyes filled with warmth.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You laughed, biting your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses almost touched. "Hey," you repeated, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I really like you."

Azriel's voice was soft, a whisper that felt as soulful as a Sunday confession. It caressed your skin, made your heart flutter and core clench.

"Good to know," you said with a dainty smile. "I like you too."

A smile broke out across Az's face and you brought a trailing hand to feel the dimples on his cheeks, tracing the smile lines etched into his skin. You were completely naked below him now. Strangely, you'd never felt this comfortable, never felt so at ease. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the chain necklace hanging around his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, feeling the smooth links sliding between your fingers.

You tugged at it lightly as you murmured, "And I also like this."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, still running your fingers along the chain, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath it. You weren't sure how it was possible for a piece of jewelry to be so attractive, for simple metal to make you picture the dirtiest of images. But it was. And you had been. You weren't ashamed to admit that you'd imagined how it would feel dangling in your face as Az pounded into you. You finally met his eyes and nodded, breathless despite having done nothing but trace the cool metal around his neck. "Yeah."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them shifting into something deeper, hungrier. His smile curved into a smirk. "Good," he rasped, and your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice.

His lips were on yours again. Gone was the soft, teasing rhythm from before. Now, his mouth was hot and demanding, as if he were starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The sudden switch from sweet to searing made your heart race. You tugged on the chain again, more forcefully this time, and he growled in response, fingers eagerly tracing the outline of your body. You shivered with each touch, with each drag of his hands across your skin.

His hand found your breast, exposed to the cool air, and you shuddered as his ridged fingers tweaked your nipple. You arched beneath him and he paused for a moment, lips hovering just above yours.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered.

Your mind raced, the words catching in your throat as you tried to form a coherent thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him to explore you for hours, to ruin you for the touch of anyone else. You shook your head, breathing heavily, trying with all your might to summon an answer.

"I-I don't know."

He shook his head, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in invitation. He said something else, something quieter and alluring, a sentence probing you to answer, to think.

"Please just touch me," you managed to breathe as your gaze bounced between his eyes. "I just want you to touch me."

Azriel's lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Like this?” he asked, beginning to move down as his hand slid down your exposed stomach.

“Yes,” you said, your body reacting to his touch. “And kiss me."

"Kiss you where?"

He was beneath your navel now, the trail of his path wet with the open kisses he'd left. You took a shaky breath. "Everywhere."

He chuckled softly against the bare skin of your leg. “Everywhere, huh?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted him. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the dark curls as he continued to explore. He leaned, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the very top of your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, where your body ached for him. But just as you thought he might give you what you were silently begging for, he pulled back. His lips began a slow journey upward, leaving you yearning, the frustration building with each inch he traveled.

He paused just above your mouth, sharing a breath as he looked down at you. "I've thought about this for so long," he murmured, "How I wanted to touch you first, the ways I wanted you to fall apart."

You released a sound in response, needy and pleading. You’d spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to be with Azriel, to see the side of him he reserved for only a few. You’d wondered how his touch might feel—gentle, reverent, like a lover tracing sacred ground. You'd thought of him worshiping your body like a saint, his hands gliding over your bare skin, fantasized about the way his fingers might curl inside you, delicate yet purposeful, stroking the most intimate parts of you until you unraveled beneath him.

“I want to hear all those pretty noises I know you can make,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Can you do that for me?”

But you hadn’t imagined this. You hadn’t expected him to be so talkative, to render you speechless with a single look. The hunger in his eyes made you feel divine, as though he was starving for you, for the taste of you, for the sound of your voice.

You nodded. It was all you could do— barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He smiled like the sun and kissed you again, one hand curving along your shoulder, sliding down your body with painful slowness, a detour around the curve of your breast, a whimper into his mouth.

It felt like hours before his palm slid down the rise of your belly, torturous and tentative. Then finally, his hand slipped between your thighs. He traced the slickness of your core and you gasped in relief, felt as he greedily accepted the sound with his tongue.

There was something profoundly intimate about the way Azriel's eyes locked with yours as he worked his fingers inside you, something about how your foreheads rested against each other as he groaned. Az was watching you, observing every reaction to the movements he made. He kissed you throughout it, rotating between staring at you, molding your lips to his, and sucking on that sensitive area of your ear lobe; kissing alongside your neck as he praised you.

"Such a pretty mess," he murmured against your ear. "Does this feel good?"

He added another finger, thumb circling your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, a desperate moan escaping your lips as the pleasure mounted. Then he was moving, pulling away from you as he descended down your body, following the trail of kisses and marks he'd left before. Azriel shifted his body, positioning himself right before your core, pushing your legs further apart to nestle between them. Your gaze fell to his hands, slick and glistening with your desire. For a moment he stilled, focused gaze as he watched his fingers disappear inside you.

And when he pulled them out, he spread the wetness further across your folds, eyes locked on yours, pupils blown with need. He was saying your name, praising you, watching as you squirmed at his touch.

"Azriel." You moaned out.

"Yeah, beautiful?"

You couldn't respond, weren't sure what you wanted to say.

“Jesus. Look at you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “So fucking pretty. Your body is perfect.”

You were torn between begging him to keep talking, to speak more and let his words roll over you, and begging him to touch you more, to feel him inside you, to fuck you.

With his eyes still locked on yours, he brought his mouth to your cunt, groaning in approval the moment he drew your essence into his mouth. His fingers slipped back inside you, finding a deep, aching spot, and your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Each tug on his hair elicited a low, approving groan from him, and you stored that information away, tucked it safely for a later time.

Your eyes fell shut as you neared the edge, body tensing with the imminent release. No, your mind echoed. Not yet. You let out a ragged breath, pulling at the curls on Az's head and pushing him away from your cunt. Azriel immediately loosened his hold on you, eyes shooting up to yours, brows furrowing with a growing concern.

“Not yet,” you managed, your voice breathy and urgent. “With you. On you. Please.”

The crease softened and his eyes grew dark again, hungry and blown wide. He grinned, hair tousled, lips glistening and swollen, and nodded in understanding. Az rid himself of the last piece of clothing he had, shedding his underwear as you drank in the sight of him before you. His naked form pressed against yours as he lay over you. You reached between you, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly, tentatively. His answering groans were low and guttural, brows furrowing with each movement of your hand.

“Do you have—?”

He nodded toward your bedside table. “You should. Rhys’s mom was very serious about safe sex.”

His voice was rough like gravel, octaves below what he normally spoke. If you weren't already drenched by now, you would've been pooling at the sound alone. You let out a breathless laugh and Azriel managed to lean over to your left drawer— the one you’d never really used, never even bothered to check what might be in it. His fingers fumbled briefly before he pulled out a small foil packet. He ripped it open with still glistening hands, and you took it from him, rolling it over his length with careful precision. Pumping him once, twice. Savoring the sinful sounds leaving his lips.

He was bigger than you had anticipated and your mouth watered at the sight, at the fact that beyond just its size, it was pretty. You'd get your mouth on it soon, you told yourself, taste him just as he tasted you. You'd wrap your lips around his head, let him fuck your mouth the way he wanted, and taste his release with a greedy tongue. But not now.

Az maneuvered himself, a forearm near your head to hold himself as his other hand went in between you, replacing your hand with his own. You ran your freed palm along his chest, bringing it up to his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Az asked, eyes focused on you.

You almost laughed at the question, a smile forming on your face as you nodded. "For the love of god, please," you said, and you were sure it was the hundredth time you'd muttered the word. "I want you. I-I need you."

Az’s growl reverberated through you, a primal sound you’d never heard from him before. It sent waves of need crashing over your body. Your legs instinctively locked around his back, drawing him in as his cock pressed firmly inside you, an intense surge of pleasure that made you both gasp for air. You clenched around him, welcoming him and the stretch he provided, the sensation of him as he rolled his hips, as he bottomed out with another sinful groan. Azriel kissed you again and again as he moved, as he picked up the pace and you clawed at his back— nails digging into the ink that adorned his golden skin.

His mouth explored every inch of you—your nipples, your throat, your ear—before he covered your mouth to muffle your moans once more. You dug your heels into his back, fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed you firmly into the mattress with the snap of his hips. You were lost in the rising waves of sensation—his quick, sharp thrusts, the heat and sweat of your bodies moving together.

Faintly, you heard a soft whining, a mewl of pleasure. You realized, seconds later, it had come from your own throat; desperate and babbling, repeating Az's name like a prayer. He was everything now, every thought in your mind, filling every sense, his hands, his tongue, his cock.

You were so close, on the edge of something monumental, ready to fall and fall and fall. Azriel must have seen the desperation in your eyes as he started whispering in your ear, murmuring things that you knew would later make you blush and squirm, turn red and pink and every color between.

“Holy shit, yes,” he growled, “You feel incredible, Y/n.”

You clung to him, your breath mingling with his, praying that, somehow, through this shared rhythm, you could bind him to you forever. That this moment would make him truly yours, beyond just the physical, blending every part of him with every part of you.

"Talk to me, beautiful." He nipped at your bottom lip. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, god, yes." You moaned and pulled him closer to you. As you separated from another hungry kiss, you reveled in the way his chain dangled over your face, in the way it swung as he fucked you. It was even better than you imagined, even hotter in every way. You clenched around him, shivered at the sound he made.

He looked beautiful. Face flushed and glistening with sweat, tousled hair falling into his eyes as he gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, a look you felt too soft to be reserved for you. It was a look meant for those that did great, praise-worthy things, a look for a lover and a soulmate. You stared at him, breathing heavily, taking in all that he was, and he looked at you back, took you in just as carefully. Then he smiled, reaching up and gripping your hands in his. He pressed gentle kisses along your cheeks and entwined your fingers with his, held them above your head.

"I'm so close,” you murmured, “So close.”

Azriel's eyes darkened. He brought his bottom lip between his teeth and his cock surged into you with such force that the bed groaned beneath you. You gasped, body going slack as he drove into you with relentless speed, each thrust so intense that you were left completely immobilized. His movements grew uneven, body trembling as he strained to hold back, his fingers pressing deeply into yours.

“Azriel.” His name was all you had. “Az. Az.”

He was buried deep inside you, trembling with the force of his release. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed heavily. "Come with me, baby."

You clenched at the name, at the way his words caressed your skin. Azriel cried out against your shoulder, his moan wavering like he was descending from a high. You felt his entire body shudder and you pressed kisses to his ear, cheek, and neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, maybe a little too roughly, but he only whimpered and slumped against you, his full weight pressing you into the bed.

He took deep breaths and you laughed as he blew your hair out of his face. A few moments later you loosened your hold on him, bodies reluctantly untangled, condom disposed, and you both shifted onto your sides. You leaned in to kiss him. His response was tender and unhurried, his lips moving against yours with a reverent slowness. His hands roamed over your back, your hip, and the curve of your ass.

Long after you cleaned up, as you laid against Az's bare chest and he played with your hair, that feeling of falling was still there, something exciting and equally terrifying. It filled your stomach, flowed through your veins.

You looked at Az, took in his contented smile, his eyes closed and peaceful as he held you, and you wondered if you truly knew what love felt like, wondered when it was too soon to decide you could never let someone go.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹  

authors note: your honor i do believe theyre falling in love. i also, do believe, that they boutta be fuckin like rabbits

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

As always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[redzie02]

A nightmare forces you and Wooyoung to confess to each other

drabble drabble

warnings: crying/ reader is a bit anxious/ wooyoung likes to tease masterlist

San had felt your body twitching next to his on the floor. He didn't think anything of it until he heard soft whimpers falling from your lips. He lifted his body and turned to face you, not moving the arm your head was resting on. Your eyebrows were pulled together, eyes squeezed shut, a few tears had slid down the sides of your face.

San gently shook you. "Y/n. Y/n, wake up." He wiped away your tears and pushed your hair away from your slightly sweaty forehead. On the other side of the room, Seonghwa and Mingi were watching, unsure of what to do yet. He smoothed his fingers over your eyebrows, attempting at relieving a bit of the tension on your face. "Y/nnn."

Your breathing quickened before you shuddered awake. You blinked a few times, unable to make out where you were. It only took one second before you were sobbing into your hands, unable to stop even with San squeezing you tight, whispering, "It's okay, it was just a nightmare." Mingi sat himself to your right, patting your shoulder while Seonghwa was in the kitchen filling a glass with water.

You'd calmed down a bit, eyes still wet with tears when Seonghwa returned, quickly chugging the water before getting up. Mingi spoke up. "Aren't you going to tell us what happened in your dream?"

You groggily mumbled, sleep still in your veins. "I need to find Wooyoung." He wasn't in the living room with everyone else or in the kitchen. "Where is he?"

"I thought you guys weren't talking to each other?" You turned to look at San, unsure of what to say. You and Wooyoung had argued about something stupid and neither of you could see the other's point. You hadn't said a word to each other since that morning.

"He's not here." Mingi answered your question.

"What?" You panicked a little, your intrusive thoughts louder than ever. What if the dream was real? No, no...

Seonghwa must've sensed your panic when he replied, "What he means is that Wooyoung went to buy some snacks. He just left a few minutes ago, he should be here by now."

You didn't utter a word as you unplugged your phone and looked for the nearest hoodie. You dialed Wooyoung's number.

Two rings. "Are you calling to tell me you realized I was right?" He smugly asked. You can almost see the smirk on his stupid face.

You sniffled and wiped your nose. "Where are you?"

“Not too far from the house. Why?”

“I’m coming to you.” You rushed to put on your slippers and tossed on your hoodie and almost tripped when you walked out the front door.

Right before you closed the door, you heard Mingi yell, "Make sure your boyfriend got me those chips I like!" Seonghwa and San laughed, knowing you and Wooyoung had been secretly pining for each other for a while, but neither of you had the courage to do anything about it. They always teased you about it and you always ignored them.

“Wha-are you okay? Are you crying?” You could hear his footsteps on the other line come to a halt on gravel.

“I was crying, so?” He snickered, ready to tease you. “Shut up! I had a nightmare and it was awful.”

You walked down the sidewalk, ignoring looks people were giving you. Your anxiety was still high from your dream and you were having trouble breathing. Your vision was slowly being blocked by fresh tears.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Okay? I'm on my way back, so you'll see me soon." You didn't reply, focused on taking deep breaths while speed walking. "What was the dream about?"

"You."

"Oh? Do you always dream about me?" You couldn't see, but you knew he was biting back a smile, eyes mischievous.

"Not like that, Woo! I- ugh- I watched you die in my dream- please don't ask me how- and I basically lived a whole life without you and...Woo, I don't want to live a life without you. Ever."

The other line was silent. All you could hear were his quickened steps on crunchy gravel and the plastic bag of snacks he bought bouncing off his body.

"Woo?"

"Do you have a green hoodie on?"

"Yeah..."

"Look up. I see you."

And he was right. You wiped your face and hung up the phone. You ran to each other, stopping arm's length away. Both of you were breathless as you stared into each other's eyes. Not a word was spoken and not a word needed to be spoken. Enough was said with this one gaze. But yet you felt the need to speak, to explain, to tell him what you've been dying to say for years now.

Your lips barely parted when Wooyoung stepped forward, dropping the bag in the process, and pulled you in by your neck. His hand stayed there as his other arm tightened around your upper body. Surprised, you hesitated for a moment before finally embracing him just as tight, taking a deep breath. His faded cologne that you complimented so much still lingered on his clothes.

You kept your hands on each other even after you pulled back. Wooyoung spoke first. "I feel so stupid." You gave him a look that read what the hell are you talking about? He continued, never once breaking eye contact. "I don't know why I never said anything before. Actually, I do know. I was scared that telling you how I felt would push you away or change everything. I can't even explain how much you mean to me, but trust me, I-what you said before? About not being able to live without me? I sometimes imagine what my future will look like and you're always in it- no matter what. Y/n, I want you in my life. I don't want us to be friends. I want to be yours...if you'll have me."

"I-that was better than anything I could've said." Your voice just above a whisper, eyes wide as you stared at his face.

"Wow, this is what I get for pouring my heart out," he joked, his hand sliding from your neck to your jaw.

Your lips quirked up, "I do want you, Wooyoung. How could I not?"

His eyes flicked to your lips then back to your eyes. "Can I-"

"Yes."

You wanted to cry again when his lips met yours. Your cheeks burned under his hands. The kiss was soft but full of so many years of longing. You never knew how much you ached for this until right now.

Wooyoung pulled back, resting his forehead on yours. You watched his teeth tug at his bottom lip.

He quickly pecked your nose before saying, "I leave for five minutes and you end up crying for me. Clingy much?"

You blink in disbelief, mouth agape. "I should've known that heartfelt speech was too good to be true. One more strike and you're out, Woo."

He places another chaste kiss to the tip of your nose. "Hmm, you do know you're wearing my hoodie, right?"

You look down. Whoops. This really wasn't helping your case. "...it was in my room..."

The smirk on his face only grew wider. "You really are obsessed with me, huh?"

You rolled your eyes and withdrew your arms. "'I'm leaving."

Wooyoung caught your wrist and pulled you back, trapping you in his arms. You let out an oof from him squeezing the life our of your lungs. "Oh, nuh-uh. I just got you. You're not going anywhere."

a/n: fuck the crew and their snacks ig

[anniebeemine]

Mom’s Night Out- s.r. x fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, pure fluff

“You deserve a night out. You know you do,” JJ said firmly, her arms crossed as she stood in your living room.

You’d given a vague answer when they invited you out earlier in the day. Now, JJ and Emily were standing in your home, probably judging the sloppy bun at the nape of your neck and the rag thrown over your shoulder.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. But it’s just...”

Emily cut in, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just what? They’re six months old, Y/N. Spencer’s more than capable of handling one night on his own.”

“I don’t know, ladies.” You looked over at Spencer who was currently talking over his shoulder to the baby strapped on his back, his hand cradling the baby on his front. They were going through a phase where they couldn’t sleep unless they were being bounced. “He’s never been alone with both of them.”

JJ and Emily exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of encouragement and mischief. “Come on, Y/N,” JJ urged, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “He’s going to be fine. You need a night out.”

“Yeah,” Emily chimed in, her tone playful. “It’s just a few hours. Spencer can handle it.”

You bit your lip, glancing back at Spencer. He was now making silly faces at Anthony, who giggled in delight, while Daniel babbled happily on his back. “I don’t know…” you hesitated, your protective instincts kicking in.

Spencer caught your eye and smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Go have fun. The boys and I will manage.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. “Alright, but if anything happens, you call me immediately,” you warned, giving him a pointed look.

You disappeared upstairs and found an old dress and let your hair fall into crunchy waves. You ran a straighter over the waves in an attempt to smooth them out. Forgoing makeup, you met your two friends downstairs. You reminded Spencer to have the boys back in bed before long.

“Or else they’ll be up early and-“

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I’m telling you think because I love you, but go,” he said softly. “Get out of here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, placing a kiss to the twins’ scalp before placing one on Spencer’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last look at Spencer and the boys, you headed out the door with your friends, a sense of freedom washing over you. Spencer watched you go, the door closing behind you with a soft click. He turned his attention back to the twins, smiling at their innocent faces. "Alright, boys, it's just us tonight," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's show Mommy we can handle this."

“To the bar!” Penelope cheered as you got into the backseat with Emily.

“I thought we were going for dinner?” You said meekly.

Emily wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “We can get food at the bar.

-

It was well past midnight when Spencer's phone rang, waking him from a light sleep. He answered quickly, hearing your slightly slurred but happy voice on the other end.

"Spence, I need a ride home," you said, giggling.

Spencer rubbed his eyes and glanced at the twins, who were sound asleep in their cribs that had been stationed in your bedroom. "Okay, where are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“JJ’s.” You hicupped. “Called an Uber.”

Spencer smiled despite his grogginess. "I'm glad you did. I'll be there soon. Just stay with Penelope, alright?"

"Yes, sir," you teased, your giggle echoing through the phone.

He got up and gently transferred the sleeping twins into their car seats, taking extra care not to wake them. Once they were securely fastened, he carried them to the car and headed to JJ's house.

When he arrived, you were waiting outside with JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all of you looking a bit worse for wear but incredibly happy. You were slumped against the porch railing. You spotted him and ran over, nearly tripping in your excitement. Emily handed Spencer the shoes you’d kicked off earlier.

"Spence!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. "You're my husband!" You turned around to the girls, practically parading Spencer around as he smiled widely. “You guys are not going to believe how amazing this guy is,” you slurred.

He chuckled, catching you before you could fall. "Let's get you home."

“My babies!” You whisper shouted, climbing into the front seat. Spencer tried to help you as you wiggled over the console and into the backseat, settling between the two car seats.

You leaned over to Anthony, placing a kiss on his cheek, then on his forehead. You did the same to Daniel. Spencer smiled at the red lipstick smudged over his son’s faces. “Are we ready?”

You nodded giddily, one hand on each twin. As the car started moving, you let out a dramatic sigh. "Spence, I need something greasy," you slurred, your eyes half-closed. "Like, fries. And a burger. So greasy."

He chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. "Alright, let's find you some greasy food."

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby burger joint, ordering your favorite meal. As he waited for the food, he glanced back at the boys, who were still sound asleep, then over at you, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Once he had the food, he parked the car in the lot and handed you the bag. You eagerly tore into it, a blissful smile spreading across your face as you took the first bite of your burger.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," you mumbled around a mouthful of food. "You're the best, Spence." You leaned across the console, running your hand up his arm. “Like the greatest freaking husband ever. Like ever.”

“Am I?” He teased, placing a fry between your lips.

You nodded, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “Like so great. You-“ you turned away to let out a small burp, “you took care of my babies. Our babies.”

Spencer laughed softly, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "Of course I did. They're my babies too."

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes briefly as you savored another bite of the burger. "You don't know how much I needed this," you said, your voice softer now.

Spencer watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with affection. He adored you in every state, but seeing you so relaxed and happy made him fall in love with you all over again.

"Anything for you," he said quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You deserve it."

You finished your meal, your head starting to droop as the exhaustion from the night caught up with you. "I think I'm gonna pass out," you mumbled, leaning your head against the front seat.

As he drove the rest of the way home, he kept glancing over at you, your peaceful expression bringing a smile to his face. He felt incredibly lucky to have you and the boys, and he couldn't imagine life without you. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he carefully carried the twins inside first, tucking them into their cribs before returning to the car to help you.

You were half-asleep by then, but you managed to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you. "You're my Spencer," you mumbled again, your head resting against his shoulder.

Spencer carefully helped you out of the car, your arms looped around his neck for support. You were still slightly tipsy, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stumbled into the house.

"Let's get you out of that dress," he said softly, guiding you to the bedroom. He gently unzipped the back of your dress, helping you ease out of it and into something more comfortable. Just as you were about to thank him, a wave of nausea hit you hard.

"Oh god," you groaned, rushing to the bathroom with Spencer close behind. You barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up, the remnants of your burger and alcohol making an unpleasant reappearance.

Spencer knelt beside you, holding your hair back and rubbing soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, just let it out," he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring.

When you were finally done, you slumped against him, utterly exhausted. He grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cool water and gently wiping your face. "There we go," he said softly, his touch tender. "Feel a little better?"

You nodded weakly, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful for his care. "Thank you," you whispered, leaning into him as he helped you back to the bedroom.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You were out before you could respond, the exhaustion and the alcohol pulling you into a deep sleep.

When you finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky, indicating it was well past noon. You groaned, your head pounding as you dragged yourself out of bed. Padding to the living room, you found Spencer on the floor with the twins, stacking blocks and making them giggle.

"Never drinking again," you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Spencer looked up, a knowing smile on his face. "Was it the green fairy?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You squinted at him, confused. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he said with a wink, turning back to the boys.

You plopped down on the couch, watching as he played with the twins. Despite the rough night, seeing him with your sons brought a smile to your face. "You're amazing, you know that?" you said, feeling a surge of love for him.

He glanced up, his eyes warm and affectionate. "I just want to take care of you," he said simply. “Open my phone. There’s a picture of you guys.”

Curious, you reached for his phone on the coffee table and unlocked it. The screen displayed a photo of a drunk you between the two car seats, your face beaming with a silly grin. The next photos were of the twins, fast asleep, with smudges of red lipstick on their chubby cheeks.

You took a sip of Spencer’s coffee, chuckling as you mumbled, "I have no idea where the red lipstick came from."

[https-florals]

thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me - j.m.

summary: if there was a contest for the world’s stupidest teenagers, you and jj would take first place.

word count: 3.1k??? i got a little carried away

warnings: a little language. 

a/n: childhood best friends to lovers, a little argument, tiniest bit of angst. WHOLEEE lotta fluff. reading it back, im starting to wonder if it really flows together or if it even makes sense, but i think its cute and i liked writing it!! as always, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. i adore you all!!

“Can I crash at your place tonight?” JJ blurts out the question, almost like he’s scared of the answer.

The two of you are headed away from a long day of surfing, your hair tangled and a little crunchy from the saltwater. You probably would have stayed out later, if it weren’t for how nasty the waves were getting. JJ had gotten pushed under and scraped against a reef, and you had slipped and landed facefirst into the side of your board, both of your accidents resulting in some pretty nasty cuts. Some old 2000s playlist is playing through the aux, and you’re driving while JJ holds a can of beer to your busted lip. 

“Or..” he swallows. “Maybe until your parents get back? They’re outta town for like another three days, right?

You give him a sidelong glance and push the can away, your lip numb from the coldness. JJ isn’t the type to ask favors, so you’re a little taken aback. You don’t ask questions though; you just nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You pause, and then grin, saying, “You scared my daddy would run you off with a shotgun if he was home?”

He huffs and shoves the corner of a towel into your face. “Your lip’s bleeding again, dumbass. And no. He just scares me a little.”

Swatting him away and laughing, you go back to the subject of him staying at your house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can stay as long as you need. Plus, that gives me a chance to make sure you don’t let those cuts get infected.” You gesture to the raw skin on his torso. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he scoffs, but the way he runs his hand over his side and winces isn’t lost on you. 

By the time you pull into your driveway, it’s started to rain. Beams from the sunset hit the droplets just perfectly, and a rainbow stretches over the cut. It’s so pretty, and if your neck wasn’t so sore and if JJ wasn’t so cut up you would’ve taken the opportunity to pull him out in the rain and force him to dance with you. But he is trying to pick up the cooler and the towels and take it all inside himself, so you run around to the trunk and nudge him away. “Stop! Just grab the towels, you’re too bruised up to lift that.” Wedging yourself between him and the trunk, you set the cooler down on the gravel.

“C’mon,” he sighs, saying your name entreatingly. “No bruise is gonna mess with these.” JJ flexes and grins, and you glare at him.

“Never do that again. If you want to keep me as a friend, you will never flex in front of me again.” You’re only half-joking.

He fake-yawns and stretches, making sure to flex again when you look back up at him. “I know, you can’t even stand to be around a sex god like me.”

You look at him, jaw dropped in faux horror, and shake your head. “That’s it. Maybank, you can go stay at the Chateau.”

“I’ll tell John B you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases, leaning against you and making kissy noises into your ear.

You are giggling between fake gags, pushing him away gently. “Get your shit and go inside, freak,” you laugh as you tug the cooler into the garage.

Kicking your sandals off by the door,you grab some antibacterial soap, and then check under the sink for peroxide and bandages. 

When JJ comes inside, you’re diluting a little cup of the peroxide with water. Pushing that and the soap towards him, you say, “Go shower and flush the cuts out with that-” you tap the cup- “then scrub with the soap. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but it’ll get worse if it gets infected.”

He frowns, and takes them. “Okay, nurse.”

You both take fast showers, and soon the two of you are back in the living room. You’re wearing borrowed boxers and a big tshirt, and JJ has on the clothes he left last time he came over. Your mother always insists on doing your friends’ laundry, and thank God she does. 

“Sit on the couch,” you instruct JJ, pouring some antiseptic onto cotton pads.

“I can do it myself,” he huffs, but he doesn’t make any more complaints when you climb over him and straddle one of his legs. In fact, he’s staring at you with a kind of awe in his expression. 

“Lift your shirt up,” you command, looking at him with a stony expression.

He rolls his eyes, but obeys, hands a little shaky as he pulls up the fabric and you begin to clean the wound.

JJ hisses at the stinging, his muscles contracting and shifting under your fingertips.

You shush him and readjust so you’re sitting a little higher on his thigh rather than his knee. “Breathe, JJ.” Mentally, you’re telling yourself to breathe too. You’re just helping your best friend. Your heart shouldn’t be racing like it is.

One of his hands balls into a fist, and the other lands on your waist, grasping the worn fabric of your tee. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are parted as he tilts his head back and groans.

You’re shameless in the way you’re staring at him. Maybe you shouldn’t find him in pain so very attractive, but- you’re just observing. You’re not even paying attention to what you're doing anymore as you wipe the cotton haphazardly over his cuts; you just watch the way his jaw tenses and relaxes. He opens one eye, and you jump slightly, heat infusing into your cheeks.

“Distracted?” he teases.

You scoff in response, bandaging up his cuts and climbing off of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

JJ doesn’t press it any further; he just smirks and leans back onto the couch.

It’s getting late, the cloudy sky turning deep, dusky amber with the setting sun. It’s still raining, harder now, and JJ has the weatherman on TV as you throw together a quick dinner. It’s a three course meal of pizza pockets, some sliced up cucumber and ranch, and a pack of oreos split between the two of you. After some bickering, you settle on a movie to watch together. It’s some old rom-com JJ is obsessed with it, and you have never even heard of it. 

You’re still whining through the first twenty minutes; saying, “A Christmas movie? It’s not even Christmas!”

He shushes you, putting his arm around your shoulders and giving you a playful thump on the head. “It’s got John Cusack in it. Everybody loves John Cusack.”

Sure enough, by the end of Serendipity, you decide you love John Cusack. “I feel a little bad for his fiancée,” you yawn, slumped against the blond boy beside you. There’s no point where you aren’t touching: shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. “I still don’t understand why he’d just leave her.”

You do understand actually, but you would listen to JJ explain the plot a thousand times if it meant you could stay this close. His hand is on your shoulder, fingers playing with the collar of your t-shirt as he talks about fate. It’s a little poetic, in fact, it’s the most serious you’ve heard him in a while.

“The whole idea about having someone destined for you is just really beautiful, you know. Like someone out there is supposed to love you no matter what. Like, the universe doesn’t give a shit about what you’ve done or where you come from. It’s just in total agreement that you deserve to be loved.”

You’re resting your head on his bicep, watching his expressions as he talks. His blue eyes are like lights across the water, his mouth serious. 

“That just seems so… I dunno, fair. Like that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“J, you know that the universe doesn’t have a say in whether or not you’re worthy of love, right?”

He’s a bit caught off guard, looking you in the eyes now. “What?”

You adjust so you're facing him, legs criss-crossed on the couch. Hands in your lap, you wring your fingers as you begin to speak. “I just want to make sure that you know you…” you pause, and breathe. “You’re worthy of love, JJ. Destiny doesn’t determine that.”

His gaze softens for a split second, and he unconsciously rubs his side, the one bruised. But, then the mask is back up quicker than you can snap. He scoffs, moving his arm away from where you're leaning against it. “I know that. None of the Pogues are getting more love than me,” he smirks, but its a little half-hearted. 

“I’m serious, JJ. I’’n not talking about fucking around,” you sigh. 

He says your name a little rough, a little annoyed. A plea for you to stop. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with you. Especially not right now. “Don’t start with the mushy shit,” he coaxes, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

You stand up, your temper a little hotter. “It’s not mushy shit! It’s the truth, and I’m not gonna sit here while you feel sorry for yourself, acting like you don’t deserve every single good thing.”

“I’m not acting sorry for myself!”

You’re on a roll now, and JJ can’t stop you now. “You so are! You won’t let anyone get close, cause you’re so scared that they’re gonna hurt you.”

He stands up quick, almost knocking you back. You stare up at him, his face a mere handbreadth away, but you don’t back down. “I’m not gonna bet on a race that I know I’m gonna lose,” he says, voice low.

“Love isn’t- it’s not- you can’t win if you’re more afraid of losing!” You’re not even sure if you’re making sense at this point. You don’t really know what sparked this little flame in you. Maybe it’s your PMS, or maybe it’s the rain making you antsy.. Maybe it’s the years or worrying, all the times he has done something reckless and stupid and kept you and your friends up all night. Maybe it’s the blatant disregard for his own wellbeing, or the way he ignores your questions about new cuts or bruises. Now, everything is spilling out, in words, in tears. “You never even give it the chance!”

“It’s just not in the cards for me, okay?”

You start to hit his chest, but he grabs your wrists and holds you steady. “It’s just how it is, and I’m okay with that,” he says, trying to infuse a brightness into his voice.

You snatch your wrists away, and yank your blanket up off the couch. “I don’t know if you’re- I don’t know, blind or just plain fucking stupid.”

His eyebrows furrow as you walk away from him. “What?”

“I’m going to bed.”

He says your name quick and a little strained, but you don’t turn to look at him. You disappear down the hallway, leaving JJ to slump on the couch, alone.

It takes no more than twenty minutes for the blond to come slinking into your bedroom. JJ whispers your name as he cracks open the door, but you don’t answer. He can't tell if you’re really asleep yet, so he just slides under the covers next to you, like he used to when you were kids. You still have the same full bed, and your sheets still smell like salt water and coconut shampoo. When your breath hitches as his hand comes to rest right by your back, he knows that you’re awake. 

“Do you really think I’m stupid?”

“Yeah.” You don’t move, voice muffled against your pillow. 

JJ lays parallel to you, almost painfully close, but not touching. “Come on, talk to me.”

You huff and roll over to face him. “Why aren’t you sleeping on the couch?”

“It’s scary as hell out there alone. Y’all got too many windows.”

Just like that, any animosity dissipates. “You’re supposed to be the man, JJ. S’posed to protect me.” You’re clutching a stuffed animal to your chest, and you push it into JJ’s. It’s an old battered dolphin pillow pet, and his hands close instinctively around it. It’s sat on your bed since fourth grade, and the stuffing isn’t as fluffy as it used to be. He remembers when you first got it. “Mr. Melon’s feeling a little flat,” he comments.

You nod, but are silent, watching the tendons in his hands and the bones of his knuckles. In fact, you’re a little shocked that he remembers the stuffed animal’s name.

“Remember when we used to have sleepovers like, every night?” JJ asks, a little laughter in his voice. “I never understood why your mom was so happy to have me over on school nights.”

There’s a twinge in your chest. You understood. Even during the worst of you and JJ’s childhood arguments, your mom would coax you to invite him over, and she’d patch up his cuts and wash the dirt and blood stains out of his clothes.

“I miss our sleepovers,” you sigh. The two of you have scooted closer together subconsciously, the only barrier being Mr. Melon.

JJ nods, and asks, “Why’d we ever stop?”

You smile. “We got old, J.”

He sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry.”Who cares? We’re old now, and look at us. Having the time of our lives. We could be ninety and still be the funnest people in the OBX.”

“Most fun,” you correct with a grin.

“Hey, y’know I have a shitty English grade,” he answers, playfully punching your upper arm.

“My mom was scared I’d fall in love with you,” you comment, a little off-subject with a shaky smile plastered across your face. “She always said I’d fall head over heels, and that you’d be the biggest heartbreaker in the county.”

JJ’s face gets serious quick, faux solemnity all in his eyes. “A real concern,” he says, deadpan, “For mothers everywhere.”

“She was right about you being a heartbreaker! Remember that poor touron from the other weekend?”

He scowls and shakes his head. “I made it very clear that it was a one night type of thing.”

It makes you think of your argument from less than a hour ago. If love was in the cards for any of the Pogues, it had to be JJ. Girls tripped over themselves just so he would notice them. But, you laugh, shove him in the arm, and switch the subject. “Remember when you fought John B in here and broke my lamp?”

“Wasn’t that like, what, fifth grade?” 

“Yeah. It was my favorite fairy lamp, and you bumped into it and her head broke off!”

You're both giggling, the tiredness setting in. “He called you a bitch! That was a big bad word back then,” JJ laughs, blond hair tangled and messy as it falls across his pillow.

Your eyebrows quirk up. “You call me a bitch all the time now.”

“That’s different,” he waves his hand to cut you off. “But then? I couldn't let him mess with my girl.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you kick yourself mentally for being so damn cliche when you feel it.

The two of you keep exchanging stories, thunder rolling and the lightning lighting up your room every few minutes.

“So, old-fashioned slumber party with the whole gang tomorrow night?” JJ proposes, his goodnight, his eyes barely open.

You nod and smile, then you do your best Pogue handshake the two of you can manage while lying on your sides. 

Your eyes drift close, and after a few minutes of silence filled with JJ’s breathing and the sound of your heart, you say, “My mom was right about another thing.” JJ takes a moment to process, cracking his eyes back open to look at you. Yours are still squeezed shut because you're scared to look at him. “About me falling in love with you. It was inevitable.” You’re shaking, but it has to be said. You have to at least get it out there.

His mouth goes dry. 

The silence is killing you, but you don’t dare look at him.

“Like destiny,” he finally says, tripping over the first word.

A warmth spreads through you, heat in your cheeks and heart. “Exactly like destiny.”

When you finally get the courage to look at him, he’s staring at you like you’ve peeled back your skin and revealed solid diamond underneath. Awestruck, maybe a little fear in that deep blue.

You can hear your own heartbeat, and your breath is shallow and short. His, in contrast, is deep and slow.

“She was wrong about one thing though.”

You wait for his answer, lips parted as you watch his gaze go from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes, down to your lips again…

“I could never break your heart.”

Your cheeks heat when he traces a line from the end of your eyebrow, down your cheek and jawline. It’s a ghost of a caress, almost like you’re some holy relic that he thinks will heal him.

You start to backtrack, feeling a little embarrassed, a little scared “J, you don’t- don’t have to say something you don’t mean.” 

JJ draws his hand back so fast you jump, and he sits up and scoffs. “You think I’m bullshitting you?”

Your stomach drops as the sudden shift in emotion, and you nod hesitantly.

His jaw clenches as he turns his face away from you, and when he looks back at you his lips are pressed into a firm line. You’ve seen this expression only a couple of times, and only when JJ is on the brink of tears. In fact, his eyes seem a little glassy when he starts to speak. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he snaps. 

“J-”

JJ waves his hand to cut you off. “No. It’s my turn to talk.” His voice does that thing where it gets a little higher, stress peeking through the cracks in his pitch. “Y’know how you called me blind earlier? You’re the blindest person ever! Everybody else sees the way I look at you except you!” he cries. His hands push anxiously through his hair. “It’s been you. Always you. As long as I can remember.” The way he’s looking at you practically sets you on fire. You can see it now. All those years of childhood crushes, pining and overthinking are evident in his eyes, like a storm at sea. “You-” his voice breaks fully now, and he covers his mouth with his fist before breathing and continuing. “You were the first person who made me feel like I was someone. Like, loved. You really made me feel loved.”

“Always have, always will,” you blurt out.

That’s when the dam bursts, and JJ begins to cry. You sit up and throw your arms around him, and his hands grasp your shirt like you’re a lifeline. He’s murmuring your name like a prayer, over and over like he’s trying to do penance. Before you can even begin to console him, he kisses you quick and soft. 

“Is that okay?” It’s so sweet, a side of JJ you hadn’t seen since you were little kids. Since before you had burdens and before the world got scary. 

“More than okay,” you whisper back, utterly melting against him. When he kisses you again, you can feel him smile, and feel the dampness from his eyes on your cheeks.

JJ can’t believe that you’re kissing him back, and he wonders if he’s dreaming. When your hands shift into his hair, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. It has to be fake.

Almost like you can read his mind, you pull back. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you assure.

His smile is so wide, you think it’ll get stuck like that. “You’re gonna have me around forever,” he says. “That’s a promise.”

“It better be, Maybank. I kinda like you.” You cuddle up against him, head on his chest, grinning profusely.

“I guess I really do have to tell John B you couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he jokes.

“Shush! You’re gonna ruin the moment!”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Guys: Ruffling their Hair

G/N. Gun, Jake, Sammy, Ryuhei, Johan, Vincent. Goo here

Gun Park

Ducks, dodges and weaves your outstretched hands. Honestly, you should be grateful. You've seen him punch someone for much less. However, your need to find out whether his hair, with all that product, is crunchy or greasy or just rock solid overrides all sense of self preservation.

To your surprise, more than anything, it is soft. As is his accompanying sigh and look once your fingers reach their target and he lets you caress his locks.

He doesn't allow you to do it often, and you care about not having broken fingers to do it too much. Once that urge kicks in though, Gun eventually gives in.

Jake Kim

It's rather unbecoming for a leader to get their hair ruffled, especially to those outside of his inner circle. The first time the rest of the crew saw you ruffling their boss's hair, they exchanged odd glances.

And Jake knows this. He grumbles each time you do it in front of everyone. He knows this takes the shine off his reputation somewhat, yet he makes it easy for you anyway.

Leaning down so you can run your hand through his hair, messing it up, before he then smooths it back down with a half hearted whine.

Samuel Seo

The first time you stroke his hair, there is no immediately discernible change in his demeanour. He gives you a look for messing up his immaculate hair but tolerates it nonetheless.

What gives away how much he likes it, and how much he craves your touch, is the way his eyes flutter shut, the way his breathing slows and deepens, how his body slackens. Not enough for anyone else to see, but enough for you to feel.

It calms him, and he finds the gesture sweet. Not that he would ever admit it outloud.

Ryuhei Kuroda

You ruffled his hair once. Once. He practically melted, then you found his head within reach in almost all situations.

An overeager, overbearing (rabid attack) puppy at the best of times, and being appropriate eludes Ryuhei anyway. But you ruffling his hair seems to have opened up pandora's box and made him realise how touch-starved he is (by you specifically) at all times.

He treads a fine line between annoying and adorable, although usually the former, but there's something wholesome about how much he wants you to run his fingers through his hair.

Johan Seong

From the way he tensed up at you ruffling his hair, you thought you did something way worse.

It was a spur of the moment gesture. Him glaring at you beneath his fringe, looking like a sulky puppy, you couldn't help it.

His mom was the only one that touched his hair, and after that - the other time was the mad doctor. Johan's hair a physical embodiment of trauma.

And then you ruffled his hair, reminding him that it's just hair, that touch can be sweet and kind, and unleashing waves of nostalgia. Looks like you just acquired a prickly puppy.

Vin Jin

Scowls until he's absolutely sure you're not going to try and reveal his eyes then he relents. Sort of.

You manage to graze his hair, just a bit, before he slaps your hand away. He lets you, enough times (until he has had enough and tells you to go away) that you eventually know exactly the texture of his hair. Felt it when it was short, buzzcut, often covered by a cap; temporarily bleached to match Mary's; cropped and left long on top; finally now - long enough to tickle his chin.

"Your hair has grown long," you say, running your fingers through his hair. A hum of agreement is all he responds with but he doesn't move away anymore.

[bearchuckles]

One bit of advice that has stuck with me (I cannot remember who said it. Feel like it might have been Neil Gaiman? I'm probably wrong.) But it was something like 'If your ______ is more interesting you're writing the wrong ______ and should refocus the story on that interesting thing.'

I've kinda always taken it to heart. If my backstory is more interesting then maybe that's the story I should be writing. If a side character is more interesting then maybe that's who I should be focusing on. I kind of try to apply it to everything. I've even adjusted chapters in my original work off this premise. (like the beginning just seemed too slow so despite how I liked the start I ended up starting the book kind of 'in the middle' and it really works far better this way with the occasional throwback to those earlier chapters now woven in)

So yeah, if you like those side characters and they're interesting perhaps you need to change who you're writing about.

Aha...ha...I need to stop falling in love with my own side characters.

The way my stories tend to go this is setting myself up for pain.