#hmm its giving no labels

[smckehour]

open to: anyone.

"it was just one kiss and now you're acting like we're about to start planning our entire future together. can we just... eat breakfast?"

[lbhslefttiddie]

youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either. and is also still, sort of, a sex flower

from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way

[dukeofthomas]

Do you see my vision

[almond-tofuuu]

Do it for me...

Zayne x fem! Reader smut

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, porn without plot (this is pure smutty goodness), PiV sex, nipple play, cervix fucking, soft dom! Zayne, consensual sex (bc asking for consent is hot af), cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, creampie, raw sex (wrap it up ppl), sex on a desk, Zayne's fat cock (bc that shi needs its own warning label)

Lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 2.9k (I am so sorry)

Thinking about Zayne

His pupils blown wide with lust, chest heaving with every breath he takes, icy hand gently but firmly holding your chin in place, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his other hand explores your body. Cold fingers gliding so softly over your exposed collar bones, making your skin tingle and goose bumps forming in the wake of his fingertips. His eyes locked on yours as his hand travels lower, following the valley between your breasts, stopping just under the curve of your left breast, fingers toying with the lace of your bra.

"May I?" His voice is low and husky, breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head, desperate to feel his cold hands on your bare skin again, but he doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest.

"That's not how this works, darling, if you want something you're going to have to tell me" he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours, teasing you but not giving you what you want "Go on, use your words, I'll give you whatever you want, just be a good girl and tell me what you need."

His words, so full of promise and dripping with desire spark a fire within you, a heat that radiates down to your core. Swallowing down the last of your anxiety, your eyes meet his own, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to stumble over your words.

"Please Zayne....I need you... need you to touch me...need to feel you, please-"

Your pleading is cut off by Zayne's mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss, his hand that was previously holding your chin now tangling into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips devour yours. His tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance which you willingly grant, allowing him to explore your mouth. At the same time his other hand has made quick work of removing your bra, now kneading your left breast in his large hand, cold fingers pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardens before moving onto your right breast to give it the same attention. Reaching up you grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to ground yourself, fingers burying themselves into the fabric of his doctors coat, tugging at it slightly. Zayne pulls away for a moment, chuckling at the adorable neediness of the gesture.

"What's the matter? Do you not like my coat anymore?" You know by the small smirk on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes that he's teasing you, know that he wants you to tell him exactly what it is you want.

"Want you to take it off, 's not fair that I'm sat here shirtless and you're still fully clothed" you mumble with a small pout on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hmm You're right, allow me to correct my error" Zayne's eyes remain focused on yours as he shrugs his doctors coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of his office with a soft thump. However, you're still not satisfied, wanting to see more of him, so you grab onto his tie, pulling him closer to you so you can get to work on removing his shirt. Zayne is quick to stop you, large hands engulfing yours, halting their movement as he leans down to peer into your face.

"If your hands keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots" although his tone isn't harsh, there's a quiet dominance to his words, almost like he's challenging you to keep going. And you're not one to back down from a challenge, so you tug on his tie again, bringing his face closer to yours, trailing soft kisses along his jaw before you whisper seductively into his ear,

"Is that a promise, Doctor Zayne?"

Before you can even react Zayne has you laid on your back on his desk, one strong hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other loosening his tie further as his imposing form towers over you.

"It would seem that someone can't control their hands, perhaps I should teach you a lesson, maybe then you'll be more obedient" as he speaks Zayne takes his tie and uses it to restrain your hands, his movements quick and precise, being careful not to tie the knot too tight but enough to limit your movement.

"That's much better, now be a good girl for me and stay still" satisfied with his work Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a quick and passionate kiss before moving onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, spurred on by the soft moans spilling from you. He then moves lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collar bones and between your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue around one of your hardened nipples before taking it in his mouth, his free hand coming up to tease the other. He repeats his movements on your other breast, not wanting to neglect it and relishing the way you whine and how your back arches up into him. Once he's done toying with your nipples, Zayne resumes his path downwards, lips and tongue leaving behind a wet trail on your stomach as he stops at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I remove these as well, love?" He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, needing to hear that you want this.

"Yes, please Zayne, need you" this time you're quick to respond, your body feeling hot as the tension builds in your core becomes nearly unbearable, needing to feel some kind of relief.

Zayne gives you an approving smile, obviously pleased with your response, his hands moving to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and removing both your jeans and panties in one go. Seeing you completely bare beneath him, your soaked cunt on full display, Zayne let's out a deep groan, whispering a soft "fuck" under his breath as he takes in the sight of you. The feeling of his piercing eyes on your exposed pussy is too much for you and you close your legs subconsciously, trying to shy away from him. But Zayne simply grips onto your thighs, prying them apart and slotting his hips in-between them.

"Don't hide away from me, love, you're beautiful, each and every part of you is perfect." His voice is soft and full of adoration, letting you know he means every word, that he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And you do believe him, because the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you makes you feel so special. His hands give a light squeeze on your thighs, holding them in place as he lowers his head to plant soft kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your right thigh, nibbling every so often, inching closer and closer to where you need him most before switching over to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment. You buck your hips up, a desperate whine leaving you as you plead with him, "please stop teasing...wanna feel you... Can't take it anymore"

Zayne let's out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your weeping cunt, "very well, you've been a good girl so far, I suppose you do deserve a reward"

And with that Zayne dives into your glistening pussy, tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, repeating the motion several times as you writhe in pleasure beneath him. One of his strong hands moves to firmly hold down your hips, the other begins to play with your clit as his tongue delves inside your dripping hole.

"You taste so sweet, I may have just found my new favourite desert" he lets out a low moan of satisfaction that vibrates against your pussy, his mouth latching onto you again as he drives his tongue further inside you, lapping up all the juices leaking out of you. The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his tongue inside you has your thighs quivering and locking around his head, back arching off his desk as moans fall freely from your lips. Your hands, still bound together by his tie, reach down and tangle themselves in his hair, tugging slightly causing Zayne to groan into your cunt. He eats you out like a man starved, drinking down every drop of the juices flowing from inside you, his nose bumping against your clit adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching when you feel Zayne's tongue leaving your pussy only to be replaced by two of his long, slender fingers, he slides them inside you easily, making a scissoring motion as his mouth latches onto your clit.

"Zayne... gon- ngh! Gonna cum!" You manage to stutter out between moans, your cunt clenching tighter around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing as he curls them to hit the spot deep inside your cunt that has you seeing stars.

"Go ahead, love, cum for me" he mumbles his encouragement into your cunt, the added vibrations sending you over the edge as your orgasm hits you full force, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as you soak his hand and the lower part of his face. Zayne works you through your high, not stopping his movements until you push his head away, the over sensitivity becoming too much. You lie there catching your breath, looking down shyly you meet Zayne's gaze as he rises from between your legs, and he looks like pure sin. His eyes have darkened with lust, the bottom half of his face glistening with your juices, a smirk rests on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. It's the most erotic sight you've ever witnessed, and it has your cunt throbbing in anticipation.

"Do you wish to continue, love? I need you to tell me now if you've had enough, because once I start I'm not going to stop until I've ruined you for every other man" his voice is steady but there's a hint of tension behind his words, as if he's fighting hard to maintain control of himself, trying to keep his ever stoic demeanor intact. In a sudden burst of courage, you reach down and palm his painfully hard cock as it strains against the front of his dress pants, causing a low moan to resonate from deep in his chest. His hips involuntarily buck into your hand, his eyes fluttering closed as he allows himself indulge in the feeling of your warm hands as they stroke his cock.

"I want this, Zayne, want you" your whisper to him sweetly, hands unbuttoning the front of his pants, pulling down his underwear and freeing his gorgeous cock, letting it slap against his toned abdomen. It's thick and lengthy, pale with a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft, pearly beads of precum leak out from the tip that's a few shades darker then the rest of his cock. You've never thought of using the word 'beautiful' to describe a cock before, but his truly was a sight to behold, enough to make your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. You shuffle forward in an attempt to get off his desk, ready to sink to your knees and worship him the same way he did you, but Zayne's firm grasp on your chin halts your movement. You blink up at him in confusion, worried that you may have done something wrong, but the lust clouding his eyes and desire dripping like honey from his voice tells you otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to indulge in feeling that pretty mouth of yours, I'm afraid I can't wait that long. I need to take you, now. So be a good girl and lay back down for me"

Licking your lips, you do as you're told, resuming your previous position, the cool surface of his desk pleasant against your flushed skin. Zayne stands between your open legs, one hand resting on your thigh, the other takes hold of his thick length, guiding it through your slick folds, coating his shaft in your wetness, the tip nudging your clit with every slow thrust. Once he's satisfied that his cock is lubed up enough with your juices, Zayne positions himself at the entrance to your cunt, the tip prodding at the tight hole causing a near pathetic whimper of need to fall from your lips.

"Apologies in advance, love, I'll try to be gentle" and with that Zayne slowly enters you, his thick shaft stretching out your tight pussy, the steady, shallow thrusts allowing you to feel every delicious inch as he works you open until he's buried to the hilt. A shaky exhalation leaves Zayne's lips followed by a quiet "fuck" whispered under his breath, his eyes closed briefly as he revels in the feeling of finally being inside you, feeling your drenched cunt throbbing and clenching so nicely around his cock. He wants to be gentle, wants to take his time with you and keep true to his words.

But Zayne is only a man, and like all men he has a breaking point, and the sight of you laid beneath him, half-lidded eyes locked onto his, mouth hung open as you moaned his name in ecstasy, soaked cunt throbbing so perfectly around his cock was just too much for him. His self control that was hanging by a thread finally snapped, he began pounding his cock into you like a man possessed, driving his length deeper and deeper inside of your sensitive hole, the fat tip hitting your cervix with every rough thrust. Broken moans flow from you, combining with the rhythmic slapping of skin and wet squelching of your pussy, it creates a sinful melody that's practically pornographic, it would be enough to make your cheeks burn if your brain could actually focus on anything other than the delicious drag of Zayne's cock as he ruts into you. Meanwhile, the man above you has lost all composure, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he drives his length into you, his rough thrusts enough to cause the desk below you to scrape across the floor. Somewhere, deep in your fucked-out brain you register the tightening of the coil in your lower stomach, knowing your orgasm is near, you try to warn Zayne, although it's difficult to form any kind of coherent thought with how good he's drilling into you.

"Z-zayne.... Aghh! gonna....mmh...gonna cum!" You manage to whimper out between moans, your eyes closing as you throw your head back, body arching up off the desk as his cock hits the spongey spot deep inside your pussy, causing you to clench even harder around him. Zayne brings one hand up to tilt you face to look at him, his eyes held an almost predatory glint as they locked onto yours.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love, I want to watch as you fall apart" his words came out breathy and low, a deep groan rumbling up from the back of his throat, his hips never stopping their brutal pace, icy fingers coming up to play with your clit, rubbing figure eights into it as his heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust. It's all too much, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him. His cool fingers on your clit, his piercing eyes boring into yours, his musky scent surrounding you, deep groans and warm breath fanning over your face, and his hard cock moulding your pussy to his shape. Your orgasm is blinding, your body convulsing and cunt spasming erratically around his length, squirting your release all over his toned abdomen as your vision turns white. A high-pitched moan leaving you followed by the chanting of his name, whispered almost like a prayer as he consumed your thoughts. Zayne doesn't stop, his thrusts speeding up as his own is release fast approaching, but he doesn't even realise, too focused on you. Watching intensely as you come undone beneath him, wanting to remember every second, every moan, every facial expression. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's cumming, hips stuttering before burying himself deep inside you, a broken groan of your name falling from his lips, cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your pussy with his thick, creamy seed. He continues to shallowly rock into your spent pussy, feeling how your cunt milks his cock for every last drop of cum.

His strong arms rest on either side of your head, holding him up as he pants heavily, sweat-covered forehead resting against yours as you both bask in the afterglow of your release. Zayne Is the first to move, pulling back slightly he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he takes in your fucked-out form below his. He can't help but be entranced by how beautiful you look, skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath, cheeks flushed as you come down from your high. To him, you look absolutely ethereal, and he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face, because finally, after so many years of wanting and waiting, you're his.

[reshinless]

☆ ❝ 𝐢-𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫. ❞ ⋆ hsr x reader

synopsis. taking your v-card woahh!!!1!!!

warnings. virgin!reader, mirror fucking (or wtv its called, blade's prt), making out (jing yuan's part), nsfw and sex in general idk what else to warn u abt

author's note. bad writing alert barf ew!, also to the people calling me lyn or sea in my inbox i think you guys are funny /pos lol

pairings. blade, jing yuan, luocha, gepard.

blade likes the idea of him being your first. especially about how innocent you are, it turns him on!! corruption kink go crazy, and definitely when he sees you so dumb on his cock. type of guy to tell you that your hole is made for him, because it is! the way you take him so well.. and especially when it's the first cock you'd ever bounce on?! waa please it makes him so horny, makes him just want even more of you!! his long-lasting stamina doesn't help you out at all from endless rounds of your poor overstimulated hole. the pretty little claw marks on his back from fucking you makes him proud when he looks up to see them in the mirror, he's the first person to ever make you do that, why wouldn't he be proud?

jing yuan falls in love all over again when he hears you are a virgin. so incredibly happy and smug to be your first. it's up to you if you want it to be vanilla or rough, just forever proud to be someone as precious as you's first. start out probably with a makeout session! probably real messy with it, and slowly his kisses trace down somewhere else.. gives head so well :33, does it messily on purpose and he gladly show off his cum covered tongue and swallow your load infront of you!! the loudest sounds ever too.. especially when he got you bent over his desk just all wet and ready to take in his cock, and letting his cock, be the first inside you!!

luocha.. hmm.. will make your first the best, will treat you right with his huge cock, probably mostly vanilla, depends when you mentioned to him that you're a virgin, i guess? just takes it slow with you, it's your first time so, he wants to make it at least somewhat romantic, and something you can remember and label it pleasuring. makes sure your pleasure come first. out of everything it's you who matters the most to him, but.. if you really want your first time to be something that you really couldn't walk over, sure. he'll be rough as hell, just if you ask, but when he's really into the moment, you won't be able to slow him down, and will go as rough as he wants to. remembers to sort of apologize after that though.. help

gepard probably is also a virgin, but it isn't uncommon for him to go lowkey rough. still remembers you are his biggest priority, in terms of pleasure, and in general. just wants you to feel good, let his cock be the first to make you feel like that. probably the kind of guy that jerked off to this kind of moment. just you using his cock for your own pleasure, but he knows you wouldn't really be the type of person to do that. probably that kind of guy to put you into a mating press and just vent out his frustration from work all into thrusting his mean cock into your overstimulated hole!

i'll probably make a part 2 of this soon !!

[0dde11eth]

Poor vesemir, he tries to give his pups life lessons beyond being a witcher, but this is the kaer MORONS we are talking about. The following occurs when they are all trying to make dinner one evening.

Papa vesemir: ok boys familiarize yourself with the spices, these can make walking the path a little nicer, as you can look forward to a delicious meal at the end of a rough day

So they go over to the spice rack to read the labels.

Eskel: basil, oregano, cilantro (yuck), coriander, thyme, paprika...

Geralt: hmm, ground pepper, sounds spicy. Hmm, not sure I like the sound of garlic, seems spicier...

Lambert: cinnamon, nutmeg. Cum? DRIED CUM!?!?!

Eskel: what?? Cum?? Is this a prank??

Geralt: did jaskier put you up to this??

Lambert: I'm not fucking eating dried cum!!!

Papa vesemir: Its CUMIN YOU IDIOTS. that's it! Everyone out of my kitchen and go run the walls, everyones getting plain boiled potatoes for the rest of the week!

Geralt: yay! Finally some good food!

Papa Vesemir: OUT!!!

Jaskier (in the background): *dumping a mouthful of the dried "cum" in his mouth and then gagging* that's NOT CUM!

Papa vesemir: *internally* I bet guxart doesn't have this problem with the cat witchers

*** across the continent at the cat caravan***

Aiden: *gagging* that's NOT CUM!

Guxart: *internally* I bet vesemir doesn't have this problem with the wolf witchers

[hiraethwa]

✰ — i want all your midnights 

kageyama x reader; fluff drabble;

"please don’t ever became a stranger"

tobio snakes his arms around your waist while you are attempting to gently fold the souffle pancake batter, resting his chin on your shoulder. a perfectly domestic action that sent your heart fluttering in its ribcage. 

tobio, not kageyama, because somewhere along the lines, they had blurred, and you found yourself falling for the man behind the name. his impossibly soft hair threaded through your fingers as he lays with his head on your chest after fucking you senseless, his own hands playing with your other hand. 

his soulful eyes the color of a navy berry under the night skies when you could call him yours, a cerulean blue in the soft morning rays as you wake up to an arm slung low over your hips. you would notice the light marks left on him, evidence of the previous night, such contrast to his softness as he rubs his eyes awake. 

“y/n?” tobio waves you back to the present, snapping you out of your haze.

“hmm?” you turn around to face him, his hands automatically adjusting themselves to rest on the sides of your hips. 

“hinata and the others are in town tonight. they are going to meet us at the ramen bar a few shops down from your favorite katsu place.” you aren’t quite sure you understand what tobio is asking of you. after all, you’re seeing each other casually, no labels attached to whatever the two of you are. 

“meet us…?” you trail off, a question left in its wake. 

“yeah, they have been bugging me to meet you for weeks, so i thought, why not?”

“why do they want to meet me?” you furrow their eyebrows, confused as to why they even know of your existence. 

“because you’re my girlfriend?”

“i’m your what—?” you almost drop the mixing bowl in your hands from shock. 

“you’re my girlfriend.” he cocks his head at you questioningly. “why do you look so surprised? you’re the one who said yes.”

“i don’t—” your cheeks heat as you remember the dream that wasn’t a dream—so tobio had asked you to be his girlfriend before you fell asleep that night, but you were so exhausted that you thought you hallucinated the whole thing. “oh.”

“idiot,” kageyama mutters, giving you a flick on your forehead before taking over the task of pouring the batter into the greased pan. the action so normal and domestic that tears welled up in the corner of your eyes. 

“my boyfriend is so mean to me,” you hug him from the back, face squished against the expanse of his back. your heart soars with disbelief and delight. finally, you get to call him yours.

"whose laugh i can recognize anywhere"

[itstheghostofmypast]

Nah Bro!

University Student Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No, he wasn't an idiot, he knew what he wanted and he always had, the only problem was he wasn't sure if she wanted the same. He was her friend, her biggest supporter, and her shelter on rainy days- but he was NOT her bro.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 7.6k

Est. Read Time: 37 min

Warnings: language, suggestive content, Woo's a perv and she ain't any better.

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

"Wooyoung?" 

His head whipped in her direction, his signature smile gracing his face as he saw her approach her with her usual expressions filled with scepticism. 

"In the flesh" he smiled down at her, the students around then slowly disappearing into nothing, the world halting at the perfect time when the rays of light seeping through the glass windows, reflecting off her lashes and skin, giving off an ethereal glow, the way the wind was just blowing right, her summer dress swaying like nature itself was flirting with her, asking her for a dance, how the birds began to harmonise, in the joy of her being here and-

"Is calling someone girlie pop considered flirting?"

"Ye- what? Who's flirting with you?" all too quickly the world around him shattered, coming back to its usual hustle and bustle, the frat boys a bit too loud and a bit too annoying, the girls passing by distracting her as one of them called her out, asking her to have lunch with them, and just to top it all off, Choi San just happened to pop by tapping his shoulder, to ruing the mood.

"Get lost, Choi."

"What? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"GO."

"FINE."

The two exchanged a look as the taller male caught the way his friend was eying the girl talking to the other girls, giggling about something- no, someone. Bloody Park Seonghwa.

"You should tell her." he nudged Wooyoung who swatted his hand away and whispered back, "And you should f**k off."

With that he marched away, leaving San standing there in the middle of the hallway. The idiot also forgot that when she turned around to look for him, she couldn't find him, but she saw San making her way to him she smiled, "Did Woo leave?"

"Uh- yeah he had a class."

"Really? Did he take a course I'm not in?"

Never had Choi San in his life felt the urge to murder someone, it would be Wooyoung for leaving him alone with her, knowing fully well he couldn't really lie to her, especially when she was looking around for her Woo like a lost puppy.

Clearing his throat the feline-eyed man nodded towards the exit, "I think he went that way, I'm gonna go there too if you wanna tag along..." he trailed off when he noticed she wasn't listening anymore, in fact, she was too busy staring at someone else, a certain literature major, one who had the face structure of a Greek god but the personality of a pleasant old lady, Park Seonghwa- oh. Seonghwa wasn't a bad person, no, he was great, but his reputation of being a flirt was somewhat of a bother- perhaps because he was a senior and his merry band of friends comprised every handsome man in the lot, music major Kim Hongjoong, IT genius Jeong Yunho and the upcoming model, plus business major Kang Yeosang- truthfully, San doesn't blame her for basking in the attention Seonghwa had started giving her, most girls would throw themselves at them- then often politely get rejected (unless of course, you had the unfortunate luck of confessing to Hongjoong, who'd often have his earphones plugged in, ignoring you and walking all over you heart as he walked away), and if Seonghwa had actually put in the effort of talking to her, then there was something about her that had intrigued the shy extroverted man.

"Hmm?" She looked away, ducking her head to hide the blush that had spread across her face when Seonghwa passed by, giving her an acknowledging smile, damn, Wooyoung really did need to step up his game.

"Wanna go look for Wooyoung?"

"Oh! YEAH! LET'S GO SANNIE! HE HAD TEACH ME HOW TO FLIRT!” She yelled, much like the lunatic who was hopelessly falling for her each day, grabbing San's bag as she dragged him out, or trying to, because she really couldn't move him an inch "Let's go-"

With a soft chuckle, he took her bag from her, watching her glare up at him all confused, "It's the other way, come on, little minx."

.

"Ow-" he hissed, his hand going to the back of his head, as he turned to glare at San- "AYE CHOI, YOU WANNA DIE?" He threatened the taller man who was wearing two backpacks, each slung over one shoulder- wait why is he doing that?

"It was me, idiot." He heard from beside him, as he turned to look at her before pouting, "Teach me how to flirt." His pout morphed into a face of disgust, moving a step back from her, crossing his arms over his chest as he scanned her frame, making sure she would become hyper-aware of his gaze and self-conscious, borderline uncomfortable.

"I'll..." San turned his head to spot a small ice cream stall, man, he loved business week, "Get us some ice cream."

Pulling her jacket closer to her she whined, kicking her feet, "D-dont look at me like that." 

"Why?" He asked moving closer, enough for her to take a step back as she looked up at him, his gaze piercing through her, keeping her rooted at the spot when he took one final step closer to her, making sure to maintain eye contact, a rocky little smirk made its way on his handsome face as he invaded more of her personal space, eyes flicking to her lips, the residue of the shiny gloss teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, though the way her lips quirked into a frown had him scoff, and glance back up at her, feeling her palms flatten against his chest. Still, she didn't push him, of course, giving him unintentional mixed signals was her favourite hobby. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "You wanna learn how to flirt but can't even look me straight in the eye."

"I-I" her hands gripped onto his shirt, twisting it in her sweaty grip as she felt him let out an airy chuckle, when she continued, "I-this isn't..." Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, causing him to smile, following along, enjoying the -

"MOTHER F*CKER- YOU BI- WHAT THE HELL!?" Stumbling back, he yelled like a madman, pressing his palm against his nose before feeling the blood trickle out, "ARE YOU INSANE? THAT'S WHY YOU'RE ALWAYS GOING TO BE SINGLE!" His shrill causing the student passing by to give them strange looks.

"What...the hell guys...I was gone for 10 minutes?" San mumbled, walking over to them with ice lollies in hand, the sight before him annoying, but not new or unexpected- this was a common occurrence, one he had been forced to see since the first semester of starting his not-so-peaceful university life.

"He was harassing me."

"HARASSING- HARASSING YOU? YOU FREAKY GREMLIN YOU SLAMMED YOUR HEAD ON MY NOSE!? FOR WHAT!?" He snatched the cold packaged good from the quiet man, who gave him a look of concern, "Go to the nurse Woo-"

"SHUT UP CHOI." He hissed, pressing the packaged ice good against his nose as he walked over towards a bench, ignoring the whining menace following him behind, calling him out as she sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling him closer, clinging onto him she placed her head on his shoulder, "Come on Woo, I'm not gonna do anything bad or careless, I'll keep you well informed."

Letting out a huff he leaned his head onto hers, of course, he was still angry, but his body would often react on his own around her, a fact he discovered back in middle school, the first time he had seen her, the first time he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

The 10-year-old boy, the 'king' of the playground, was busy ordering his loyal servants around in the sandbox when this little critter popped up, marching over to him with watery eyes and a runny nose, her fists clenched by her side as she stomped into the sandbox shoving away his 'royal guards' and pointing at him, "Are you the king?"

"Who wants to know!?" Smirking he adjusted his robes- towels, the guest towels he stole from home- atop his head that his paper crown, an ugly orange colour might she add.

Sniffing she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before looking at him, "I want to ride the swings!" She yelled at him, before moving closer to shove him- mind you, she only did so because her parents had always told her never to back down when she was in the right- and two mean boys not letting her on the swings because their king said so was not right.

Steadying himself he glared at her, eying her up and down, he was a feminish or fashionist or something like that, his mother told him to be one too, so equal rights it is, which is why he shoved her harder watching her land on her butt, laughing in the process as his loyal servants began to laugh too- that his until he saw the dejected look on her face, he had assumed she would fight back like most kids, but she got up, wiped her eyes and slowly walked away with her head hung in shame, something about the little girl all sad in her floral summer dress had him feel all funny in his stomach- or chest? The point is he initially ignored it, too focused on his victory, happy the king remained all-powerful.

What he did not expect was the peasant girl to come to his house with her parents- what a snitch. That night Wooyoung had to apologise to her, not because he took the swings because as his mother quoted while pinching his ear, "A FEMINIST DOESN'T HIT A WOMAN. HE BEFRIENDS HER." Ah, so it was feminist. Though her parents had not come to complain, they had actually moved in as neighbours and wanted to meet their neighbours, his family, but who knew the youngest (for now) child of the Jung household had left a bad impression on the Lee Family's one and only Princess. Since that day his mother had forced him to befriend her, to go over to her house and play, to drop her off to her class- thankfully they were not in the same section, but that's because she was smart and well...he was good-looking. 

Perhaps it was fate that had him slowly understanding her awkward and shy nature, how she was somewhat similar to him when it came to what she wanted, she'd whine and complain but the only difference between the two was that she'd always find a way to get it- want a Lego set? Get good grades and you will- she did. Want to eat ice cream? Eat your veggies, she did, she even ate his.

Wooyoung, nah, he wasn't one to take such big risks, to come out of his comfort zone. In fact, after the arrival of the youngest new addition to the Jung family, Wooyoung wasn't happy, what teenager wants a baby brother? Who does that? The night his brother was born, he wasn't at the hospital like his father or his older brother and the Lee family, including her, no, he had climbed up the rusty pipe she had told him a billion times not to use, plucked open the lock of her window and entered her dark room- yes, her parents knew he would do that, his parents knew too, he was the only one allowed to that, for a king is ever ready to go to his queen, especially at the time of distress. He took a step into her bedroom, taking off his shoes and placing them on the small shoe rack set next to the window for him, and hopped onto her bed, stuffing his face into her pillows, her peach shampoo smothering him with affection, before letting out a strangled cry, which opened the flood gates to a tsunami of everything, he had been bottling up since the news of his mother's pregnancy had surfaced. The way his friends teased him, calling it gross, the way everyone was now busy not paying attention to him, the way he was no longer important. Why were they having another child anyway? Was he not enough? Of course, he wasn't as perfect as his older brother but were they only trying again because they were fed up with him? He was leaving for college soon- were they replacing him?

He really didn't know how long it went on for, but a few too many tears later, his eyes had dried out, but his laboured breathing hadn't ceased, that us until he felt calming fingers sift through his hair, the bed dipping beside him as he heard a gentle, "Woo...I knew I'd find you here- staining my sheets with your snot, you giant baby."

Ah, she never was gentle with her words, perhaps that is what karma was, making him fall for her, probably harder than he had pushed her when they were kids, watching him simmer in her snarky comments and such mixed cues of attention- well perhaps that's what he deserved for being a b*tch all the time- I'd didn't matter, for a king always gives into his queen.

Sighing he tried to move, only to freeze when he realised her entire weight was on him, his eyes meeting San who was frowning at him, though the broad-shouldered man holding a raspberry lolly looked comical, especially when he glared at him like that.

“What?”

“She’s asleep Jung.”

“No way? Really?” He scoffed, gently manoeuvring her to lay her head on his thigh, brushing the hair out of her eyes, before reaching for San’s cap on the wooden table, ignoring the man as he placed it on her eyes, shielding her from the horrid, too bright and ugly sun.

“You’re hopeless.” He huffed before standing up, collecting the trash and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Just…don’t do something you’ll regret, man.”

“What are you? The Magic-Eight ball or something.” He mumbled, before waving him off, “Be gone, now, I’m sure that girl from ‘Philosophy’ is waiting for you at the library to pull out books from the top shelf for her again.” He smirked, watching the way San’s face flushed at the mention of his somewhat secret crush, mumbling some very vulgar words at Wooyoung before stomping away.

.

“Okay, there, all better.”

“Kiss it better.”

She moved back to stare at him, extremely close to smacking him once more but decided not to when he sat there with his eyes closed for her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned closer placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose before quickly hopping off the bed, mumbling about what kind of idiot he was, not catching the way he was smiling like an idiot at her. She was wearing one of his hoodies, he liked that, they were in her dorm room, he liked that, he was surrounded by her, he really liked that- truth be told he had followed her to this university as well, honestly, sometimes he did think of blurting it out to her- but was it worth ruining everything with her, just to satisfy his itty-bitty heart that had begun to beat for nothing but her.

“So, will you help me or not?”

Her question caught her off guard, eying the way she sat down across him, placing a bowl of chips between them, “Woo, will you teach me how to flirt or not?” pushing the bowl towards him as he sighed before shrugging, “Why do you wanna learn anyway-

“Because I like Park Seonghwa!” she whined, “He’s so pretty and sweet and he’s a wonderful senior and-

“If a guy likes you, he likes you for you, not because you learn how to flirt.” He cut her off before picking up a chip and placing (shoving) in her parted mouth, cackling when she choked on it, smacking his hand away as she turned around and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning to glare at him, “Funny how I’ve been doing that since high school and I have never even gone on a date- I am not even remotely likeable.”

“You don’t need to go on a date to deduce if you’re likeable or not.”

“How can you say that!? Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

For a moment his quick sat between them, staring at the two as she looked at him wide-eyed, scanning his face like a curious, scared kitty, only to be met with an intense stare, his eyes staring- no piercing through her soul as if he were trying to say something without saying it, do something without doing it, feel something without feeling it. Ever so slowly he moved closer to her, watching her breath hitch, fingers gripping her sweatpants as he stopped to look at her before giving her a soft smile, trying to read her, yet his signal was not transmitted for once again their frequencies did not match, causing him to move back and look away, scanning her studio apartment, a piece of him was in this room- no, several little pieces of him were present within this canvas, traces of his soul, the scent of his being; from his spare sneakers to his scarf on the kitchen chair, to the coat hanging off the coat hook on the main door, to his ‘special morning Garfield mug on the dishrack.’

“Woo…” she whispered, causing him to slowly turn back to look at her, a small melancholic smile gracing his features, one she noted as she gulped, though her parched throat made swallowing difficult- no, she was reading this wrong, Wooyoung deserved, Wooyoung wanted far more than her, he always had, he always will.

“Let’s do it.” Smiling he stood up before stretching, ignoring how she was staring up at him as he scratched his head before looking around, “It’s getting late, I promised San I’ll cook tonight.”

“Yo-you don’t have to, I can-”

“Classes start tomorrow, after four, there are two conditions.” He cut her off, walking over to the door as he pulled off his coat, staring at it for a moment before hanging it back on her door- why not let his presence be there till it was time to move out- “First, I will accept your payment in meals, after every lesson you will treat me to a home-cooked meal and secondly, you will do whatever I say, do we have a deal?”

Walking over to him she stood in the hallway, staring up at him in awe, the warm light above him hitting just right, accentuating his features in a way that her heart may as well have hopped onto his palm if she were to stare at him for any longer, so all she could do was nod at his deal, all she could do was stand there when he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze before pressing his forehead against hers, mumbling, “See you tomorrow, my little gremlin.”

.

“God, I- I am not wearing this” she huffed throwing the top back at him as he rolled his eyes, holding it up by the strings, “This, is a summer dress, with spaghetti strings, many girls wear it and I think- Seonghwa would like it.”

Sighing in defeat she took it from him, before walking over to the washroom to change, leaving him sitting on the bed as he looked around her room, lying down as he sighed, arms behind his head as he stared up at the cheap 3D glowing stars on the ceiling, one’s they had put stuck up on the ceiling the on the first night she had moved into her dorm, making the zodiac constellation for him and her, then the two had laid there, side by side, staring up at it until they eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“H-how do I look?”

His eyes snapped open at her voice turning his head to inspect her, only to end up feeling like he was punched in the gut, the air knocked right out of him, slowly sat up as he turned to her, eyes roaming every inch of her frame, he had seen her wearing his clothes so much, that he had forgotten that she indeed was much smaller than him- no- she indeed was a girl.

“W-Woo?”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and smiled at her, “You look like you can flirt.” Giving her a thumbs up he grabbed her hand and walked towards the main door, making sure to grab his wallet and phone, ignoring her babbling, “Now, we see what you do on a date- you gotta experience it girlie, a café date is the best of its kind.”

That was exactly how she had found herself stuck to him as the two walked down the pathway to the local café, the setting sun doing her a favour and not burning against her skin, though the wind only had her feeling conscious, especially when the ends of the tied strings would tickle her shoulders or the hem of her dress would tease her, causing her to grip his arm, pulling him closer for some form of support. Wooyoung on the other hand, no he was having the time of his life, never had he felt something so soft and warm press up against him and he thanked that horrid magazine he had found with dating advice for the choice of dress he had picked for her, the pastel pink mid-thigh dress really did do her wonders, really did make him feel like he was in high school again-

“Woo…I feel like everyone is s-staring.” She mumbled, pressing her face into his arm as he sighed, “Babe, it's not like you’ve never worn a dress before, sure this one is a little more on the bolder side but-” his words came to a halt when his eyes met with a glossy pair, one pleading him to save him from the way the boys around them were eying her down, sizing her up.

.

“Thank you, Woo.” She smiled, pulling his denim jacket close to her frame as she sat on the opposite chair, glad that most of her body was covered again, especially from prying eyes, “I knew I could count on you.”

Taking her out was a bad idea, not only was she gaining a lot of attention but she was making it difficult for him to hold himself back, to keep those three words, not the redundant and overused "I like you" but a feeling he had been covering with layers and layers of sarcasm and petty fights, a feeling his heart could never truly accept, could never truly feel, could ever truly float in, even if it were drowning in it, "Love me too".

The cafe trip was cut short when the very nice waitress was kind enough to point out how cute of a couple they were, and instead of letting her correct the waitress, he cut her off with a small thank you, then looked at her. What did that mean? Was he trying to teach her? Was this part of flirting? She did not understand. 

It irked him how she was clueless, how she wanted him to spell it out for her but he wasn't going to, not when the fear of rejections loomed over him, waiting for the right moment to slice the beating pound of flesh in his chest in half. The walk home had been uncomfortable, she was no longer clinging onto him, and the jacket had provided her enough cover, but he'd be lying if he were to say he didn't like it on her. At least there was part of him she was willing to hold onto, even if it was temporary. The walk home was silent, eerie, quiet and perhaps a bit too loud with the sound of anything but them, that is until he finally stopped at the door of her dorm room, staring at her when she unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving it open for him, only for her to turn around in the small, dimly lit corridor of the entrance to look at him, look up at him all confused and doe eyed, in his garment, covering her frame, her eyes swirling with a form of curiosity that had his fingers twitching, his soul begging to be set free from the confines of his useless flesh, "Woo?"

"Next lesson...is...indoors, I'll text the details." With that he had closed the door but did not leave, instead, he waited outside, waiting for her to lock it, his forehead resting against the mahogany, counting till ten, sighing in relief when he heard the gentle click. This was a bad idea. He was so pathetic he told her he would help her, yet he couldn’t even pull through one day properly, some best friend he was.

.

She lay awake the entire night, tossing at turning in bed as every 10 minutes she would check her phone for his text, but there was none. He had not even responded to her goodnight message, prick. That was exactly why she was late to class, and almost thrown out too but the lecturer had not been too busy trying to actually figure out how to use the projector. She had slipped in, trying to find an empty spot, which she did after a couple of minutes, choosing to sit in the only available seat at the corner of the class, she sighed, taking out her book, only to pause when she heard someone groan next to her, turning to the source of noise she let out a small gasp.

“What the hell happened to you?” she whispered, leaning closer to the hunched-over figure in black, as she yanked back the hood of his hoodie, earning another small whine.

“Stop…yelling.” He mumbled, pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’m not, Woo.” With a sigh she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what on earth he had done this time. It was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this battered and bruised, it was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this tired, just blatantly showing all his bits that he wasn’t proud of, to her or the world, “Were you drinking last night…I thought you were going to text me the details.”

‘I was drinking to get you off my damn mind’, is what he wanted to say, but when he snapped his head in her direction, he was met by a gaze so endearing, a gaze that held a certain affectionate warmth to it, one that made him wonder if he were ready to let this very being that frustrated him and infatuated him with an unimaginable amount of love slip through his fingers. So, after a moment of thinking, he turned back to the board and slowly nodded, “I…Let’s go after class…next lesson…wake me up at the end?”

“Why were you drinking mid-week anyway?” she asked, though he never answered, instead he slowly pushed her upper body away from the table, only to lean down onto her lap, his head resting on her thighs as he closed his eyes, mumbling an, “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”

What did that even mean? Honestly, he had become very difficult for her to read, sometimes she assumed it was because he had no interest in her, other times she just thought it was not difficult because of the crush she had developed on him- one that was pointless since he never really noticed the hints she’d drop, she knew for him, she’d always be the goody-two-shoes that lived next door. But then again, she was never his type, she was not like any of his exes, in both physical presence and mentally- well, she didn’t want to be like them in terms of mental state- most were more interested in his physical presence than who he was as a person- then he’d come running back to her, and every time he would she’d tell him the same thing, “That’s what you get for someone dating someone who doesn’t like animals.” Though he’d argue with the ‘Yah! Do I look like a dog to you?’, that wasn’t it though- or maybe she was calling him a dog, who was to say? The fact of the matter was, at the end of the day, she would always be his just best friend, and this is why Seonghwa had happened to slip into the picture, she needed to move on, and maybe someone as sweet, smart and smokin’ hot (she should stop spending so much time with Wooyoung) would be good for her.

.

“Wakey, wakey, you successfully slept through an hour-long lecture.” Carding her finger through his hair she frowned when he clenched his eyes shut, why was he being so difficult? Was he trying to avoid her or something else? Was he tired of her being around him all the time? Did he not text her last night because he wanted her to drop it? The whole Seonghwa thing because maybe he knew she was hopeless, if him knowing her for years led to nothing, how would a stranger, a handsome, well-mannered, angel-like stranger like her and-

“Are you constipated?”

“Huh?” Casting her eyes down at him, she met a curious, droopy gaze, it was only then that she realised that she had been absentmindedly caressing his cheek, drawing intricate patterns on his soft skin, though even at the realisation she did not stop- how could she? Perhaps this was the last time she’d ever touch him, ever be this intimate with him. Sighing she shook her head, mumbling, “No…why?”

“Then why are you frowning like that?” he groaned, sitting up, stretching his arms over his head before letting out a loud, ungraceful yawn and scratching his head, looking around the empty class- if he were to make out with her right now, they would never even be caught- Wooyoung, you’re not even dating her- true, but the way she had been pouting just made him want to- “Where are you going?”  he turned to her when he heard her shuffle, standing up and collecting her stuff, pausing to look at him, “Going back to my dorm… I’m tired.”

With that she walked away, not sure if she was mad at him, or upset at the thought of the hemlock of reality she was to swallow eventually, maybe she just wanted him to somehow disappear- rather if he was out of sight, he’d be out of mind- right? It’s not like she had spent all night staying up waiting for his text. It’s not like she rolled around in bed before devouring an entire pastry (she had been saving for the weekend) in tension and anticipation. It’s not like she had cried herself to sleep knowing that tomorrow she’d have to wake up and pretend her heart did not beat for a man who had carelessly dropped it years ago.

“W-wait!” running after her he jogged up to her until he was walking beside her, glancing down to note how she was not even trying to look up at him with her usual smile- shit. He really messed up, he didn’t know she was so determined for Seonghwa- this thought just added more salt to the nasty green that brewed within him, the ugly, vomit-like green that had him ranting to San all night, chugging down one too many beers, enough for him to wake up with a horrible hangover that even San’s hangover juice couldn’t fix- what did that f*cker know anyway, he didn’t drink and the girl he had been pinning over had been secretly pinning over him- not that he’d help San figure out, he had his own issues, honestly liking your academic rival isn’t the smartest thing anyway.

“Well, see you later.”

With that she walked into the building, only to have him follow her, she turned to look at him as he looked down at her with a sheepish smile, a nervous chuckle breaking the silence when she raised a brow, only to die down when she turned back around and started climbing up the stairs again, only for him to follow hot on her trail. Once again stopping right behind her when she stopped to open the door-incorrect, he had bumped into her, only for her to turn around and glare at him for a good minute, only turning when he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her around to the door, mumbling, “We still have one lesson left- I’ll combine two in one, special deal for my special girl.”

Cringing at the words, that stung her heart harder than imaginable, opening the door for and entering, not really waiting for him to enter or not, as she kicked off her shoes and flopped face first on the bed.

For a moment she could hear only the clattering of pots and pans, and the sound of a microwave and then the usual, gentle, unforgettable humming began to float in the air, dancing around her being, at this point, she didn’t even know what he was singing but that it was smoothening enough to lull her to sleep.

She didn’t know how long she was asleep, but she woke up when he gently shook her, whispering nonsense in her ear- oh wait no he’s talking about food. Soon enough she was sitting on the floor, sitting in front of her was the idiot, platting for her and himself, yapping about how he spent the entire afternoon sleeping and all she did was sleep, but that’s okay because she needed the rest, the list continued; Yangnyeom Chicken, Tteok-bokki and even ordered something sweet just for her-

“Why are you being so nice?”

Her words caused him to stop, as he looked at her, eyes narrowing at her for a split second before he took a deep breath, thinking about his words then speaking, “For ghosting you last night-”

“No, that’s not what I asked, and you know it- first you said no to even helping me, then you suddenly decided to help, you made me dress differently than I do, you didn’t even let me correct the waitress when she called you my boyfriend and- and then you just let her!” she didn't know when she started yelling, but when she stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes caught the whirlpool of emotions, she probably should’ve stopped, but she didn’t, years of it boiling and bubbling within her- she felt exploited, she felt cheated and misguided- hell she was even mad at herself, she was his best friend but was that enough of a reason for her to keep hurting? Perhaps she was hurting, but she wanted him to hurt too, even if that meant she would never see him again, “Then you ghost me like I don’t even exist! What is your problem!? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? How can you do this!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The next couple of seconds were probably the worst he had ever spent in silence, his chest burning with every breath he heaved in, staring at her, the grip on his glass tightening, feeling the world around them constrict, squeezing in around them- or so he thought, he had yet to face the worst and when that moment arrived, it felt like he was slapped in the face, enough to have it stinging for days, especially when the words settled around them, the two words that she had, oh so casually, thrown at him like it didn’t matter at all like he didn’t matter at all like they never mattered at all. Instantly his brain had switched off, tuning out anything and everything that he could sense, wanting the earth to swallow him whole, wanting nothing more but to take a cold shower, to possibly feel something again, to possibly let out all he was feeling, to possibly forget her- forget them.

“Nah, bro.”

.

Did she f*ck up? Yes. Was she aware she f*cked up? Again, yes. She had realised what she had done as soon as the words had slipped past her lips- mind you, in her many years of being friends with this moron she had picked up a few bad habits from him, like staying up late at night, reading the end of a book first (just in case it had a sad end so she could throw it away) and perhaps losing the ability to think before she spoke- this one was a new trait she had acquired, one she had discovered just last night, as soon as he had slammed the door in her face, running away, ignoring her as she yelled out his name, waking up almost every other girl in the building. And no, he chose not to answer her calls or her texts- hell she even woke up poor San, who wasn’t at the dorm, weird, where exactly was he sleeping on a Thursday night if not at the dorm, she should ask Wooyo- oh wait, she can't! Because she F*CKED UP AND HE WAS IGNORING HER! Like hell!? She didn’t even mean the ‘Nah, bro.’ as an insult or a rejection, but for some reason after he dropped the ‘L’ bomb on her, that was all her brain could process at that given moment, perhaps because she was so stunned by the fact that he didn’t just like her back, he loved her! And she loved him. So, the nah bro was more like an ‘oh damn’, or an ‘oh god’ or an ‘oh wow’- okay, none of those seem like good responses when someone confesses to you, but see! That’s the point, it was so spontaneous- maybe she should’ve just kissed him- nah, she wouldn’t trespass his physical being like that- maybe she should’ve patted his shoulder? - wait, what if he hated her now? Realised it was a mistake and he was glad she messed up so he’d never have to see her again- oh no.

Slamming her hands on his door she let out a shaky breath, the intensity of her knocks increasing, this was not how she had expected her Sunday morning to go, breaking into the boy's dorms at university, slamming her fists so loud that the whole block may as well be awake. Was she risking expulsion, probably, but was he worth it- oh for sure.

"WOOYOUNG!"

"WHAT!"

The door slammed open, revealing a dishevelled Wooyoung, in nothing but his underwear, eyes widening at the realisation that it was in fact not Yunho who was bothering him in his early hours of brooding, but the source of his heartbreak had come to him. Now, mind you, the man lived with other men and never in his life did he imagine the girl he had been simping for, his own best friend, would come up to him in his domain like this, the same girl he had confessed to the night before, laid his heart bear and open for her to trample over like a wench- "Is that my hoodie?"

She stared at him, no, she shamelessly ogled at the boy-man- she had spent bullying and playing around with in her younger days. In front of her was not her annoying, stupid, dumb, irritating best friend but a who the fk, what the fk, why the fk- her chain of thought broke at his question.

"Wh-what?" breathing out, still trying to catch her breath from the extensive running she had done up the flight of stairs- curse him for living in a building with no elevator- that and the sight before her had her all hot and bothered even more. Note to self, this was- no wonder he was the king of the playground, she’d be his queen any day- well he did want her to be one until she managed to ‘wooyoung’ herself.

"Why-" shaking his head, he rubbed his face before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame, did she look all adorable, flushed pink, hair a mess and in his hoodie? Yes, was he still mad at her, definitely- so he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a quick reaction this time. He had spent all night crying, all night wondering and thinking of all the possibilities and incidences that could have her give this kind of response, this king of rejection, for her to just…just say something like that. He tried calling San but that useless butt was sleeping at someone’s (of course it was that girl from Philosophy 101- he’d seen them giggling like teens way back in the library- see, even he had someone, public or not- so no, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of him giving into her so easily, “What do you want?"

"I- you- I mean- oh my god- we like- f*cked." the words jumbled up, tumbling out of her mouth before her brain could from the sentence, "I f*cked up, my god, I do like you."

He knew what she meant, but he wouldn't be Wooyoung if he said so, hence the crooked smile that adorned his slightly puffy face, eyes heavy and droopy with sleep, "Unfortunately we haven't, but we could if you'd like”.

She stared at him for a good second, trying to process his response before raising her hand and slapping him across the face, enough for it to echo across the corridor and him to let out a mixture of a whimper and growl, hand on his burning cheek as he glared at her through bleary eyes, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“ME? YOU CAN’T YELL I LOVE YOU AND THEN RUN AWAY-”

“YOU REJECTED ME! YOU CALLED ME BRO?!”

“IT WAS JUST AN EXPRESSION- I WAS SHOCKED OKAY! I DIDN’T THINK YOU LIKED ME BACK I-”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU BACK! I LOVE YOU!”

“And I’d love to report you two, but considering how I know she’s usually triggered by your stupidity, I’ll let you off with a warning.” The two turned around (well she did, he just frowned and scoffed before mumbling something and going inside the apartment), quickly bowing and apologising she stood up straight, face flushed with embarrassment, only to receive a gentle smile.

“Didn’t know you two were so dense, most of us thought you two were already dating…. anyway, please take this inside, we can’t have others know there's a girl here, as the Prefect I’ll keep it a secret since you’re my junior.” He winked before walking away- Park Seonghwa was so cool- OH WAIT WOOYOUNG.

Closing the door behind her she ran to his room only to find him putting on a shirt- dang- before he sat down on the bed and stared at her, raising an eyebrow at her pout, especially when she walked over to him and whined, flopping onto him- falling onto him- only to hiss when their heads collided as he threw her off her (next to him on the bed), whining “Are you stupid?”

“Yeah…” she whimpered, rubbing her forehead as she lay on her side, looking at his side profile, admiring his side profile, could she do this openly, since they were now a couple- or at least were going to become one? “Stupid for you.”

Turning his head to her, grimacing at the choice of her words, well, he needed to get used to the poor pick-up lines, not that he would mind of course- “I love you too.”

Her words brought him back to them, sighing when he felt her press her hand against his pink cheek, feeling her thumb caress the stinging skin, scooting closer to her as he carelessly draped an arm around her waist pulling her even closer- he wanted more, the proximity between them to completely finish, but he couldn’t push her, he could never- he knew she took things slow and he’d let her no matter how long he had to wait- his eyes widened at the sudden pressure he felt on his lips, though it was gone as soon as it came, causing him to whine, looking back at her as she covered her face with her hands, mumbling an, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Same, sis.”

“Hey!” sitting up she glared down at him only for him to shrug, “Now you know how it felt.” He smirked all smug before moving further up the bed until his back was pressed against the padded headboard, opening his arms wide for her, a gesture the two understood all too well, a small smile gracing his lips when she instantly snuggled up in his arms, melting into his embrace when he kissed the top of her head, only for him to giggle when she returned the gesture by pressing her lips against his pulse point, feeling her warm breath against him as he sighed, “So…no more Seonghwa?”

“Only needed him to move on from you.”

“Damn…”  he sighed, squeezing her closer, not that she minded, she was finally getting the attention she deserved, the love she deserved, the love they deserved. It was a moment of purity, a moment of joy, a moment of sincerity that nothing and no one could ruin- “I was my own c*ckblock.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A/N: Well that was a long wait- not like I have a project due on Monday but damn- I'm glad I finally finished this- I really hope it is worth the read.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

[visionandthebeast]

Honey, Honey (How he thrills me)

@bucktommypositivityweek round 2, day 1: make your own season 8 opening disaster. Read on ao3.

“How are you still so chipper?” Tommy groaned, trying not to rub any of his bee stings as Evan paused his chatter about every bee fact he had ever memorized in his life to unlock the door to his loft.

“Well, it’s not every day you find yourself facing off against a Bee-nado,” Evan tossed a grin over his shoulder as the door swung open. Lucky bastard only got stung once: on the chin.

"That was not a 'Bee-nado', Evan," Tommy griped as he dropped his bad next to the stairs, "It was a giant swarm. You would need an actual tornado for a bee-nado, and I'm pretty sure the winds would have killed the poor things".

Evan pulled a pair of beers out of the fridge, handing one to Tommy as they settled onto the stools by the island.

"Bee's are pretty good at surviving natural disasters. Though I think a lot of that is how they build their hives." Evan picked at the label on his bottle for a moment, thinking. "I wonder how protected artificial hives are. They're out in the open, right? if a heavy storm or tornado hits…"

"Maybe they have their own storm shelter. Beekeepers are pretty protective of their swarms." Tommy traded an amused grin with Evan, remembering the apiarist practically screaming at them when they recommended more permanent solutions to the giant swarm. Like flamethrowers.

"More likely they just don't have a lot of beekeepers in tornado alley."

"Oh, but imagine if they did. They could get some real bee-nados going," The playful glare Evan shot him at that looked so much like a disgruntled puppy Tommy just had to kiss him. No choice. Would have been a crime not to.

Unfortunately it had been a pretty long day, and the kiss was interrupted by Evan yawning.

"Mmmm. Maybe we should lie down." Evan murmured, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy held Evan for a few moments more, before pulling back, giving him one last peck on the lips.

"Go on, get yourself ready for bed. I'll be right up."

Evan made his way slowly up the stars to his bed. Exhaustion visible in the way he moved, the long day catching up to him now they were home safe. Picking up the beer bottles Tommy quickly dropped them in the recycling before grabbing his sleep shorts and a singlet out of his bag to change into.

Carefully folding his shirts and jeans, leaving them and his shoes downstairs, Tommy following his boyfriend to bed. Climbing underneath the covers he pulled Evan flush against himself, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

"Did you know bees actually have four wings? and five eyes." It took Tommy a moment to register the claim, the image conjured in his mind by Evan's words was pretty ridiculous.

"I'm going to need some details on that one, Evan. because what I'm picturing right now does not look like a bee."

"Well, the wings on each side hook together, so they look like one big wing. And the three middle eyes are a lot smaller than the compound eyes. I guess they're for depth perception? I didn't actually look that up."

"I can't believe you know so much about bees. I can't believe there's so much to know about bees." Tommy wondered in amazement.

"I think I'm all out now," Evan chuckled, wrapping his legs around Tommy's. "Apparently repeated bee stings can give you an allergy, even if you didn't have one before. We should probably avoid bees as much as possible from now on."

"Evan, If I see a bee again I'm running in the opposite direction. Allergy or no." Tommy snaked his arms beneath Evan's shirt, gently squeezing his belly. A sly grin bloomed on his face as Tommy thought of something. "I don't think I heard any facts about honey, just the bees themselves."

"Honey is an antibacterial," Evan shot off immediately, "Its used to treat minor burns even today."

"Hmm, I know my Honey is good for stopping burns," Tommy pressed another kiss to Evan's neck.

"Are you going to give me a compliment with every fun fact?" Evan asked.

"Until we fall asleep. Yeah." Curled up against his Evan's warm back, legs entwined and arms wrapped around his boyfriend's tummy, listening to him talk about bees and honey. Tommy couldn't think of a more peaceful place to be.

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[eds6ngel]

self care night ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

eddie munson x gn!reader

summary: you notice eddie's skin is a little neglected, so you give him a pamper!

warnings: gn!reader. pet names (sweets, sweetheart, angel). established relationship. swearing. no use of y/n. tooth-rotting fluff. mentions of eddie's tough school life. alcohol mentions. weed mentions. talks on legalising weed (bc i am passionate about it). love bombs bc eddie is a sweetheart. lots of kisses [2.4k].

“Eds, stay still!”

You currently had his head bent over the bathtub, massaging in the leave-in conditioner, giving your boyfriend the well-earned hair treatment he needed. But, the longer you pamper him, the more you come to realise why he’d never gotten this treatment in the past.

“My knees are uncomfy,” he whines, the only words leaving his mouth for the past fifteen minutes being constant complaints.

“I’m almost done honey, okay? It’s easier to get to your roots from this angle.”

After a few more minutes of massaging, you place a kiss on his cheek, “Okay, all done now.”

He groans, mumbling, “Thank God for that,” as he stands up, flicking his hair backwards so it lay correctly on his head. You turn your head to the side, hands behind your back as you give him a warm smile, looking like a lost puppy. Eddie furrows his eyebrows, smiling himself as he chuckles, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you cheerily reply, “You just look cute with your hair messy,” placing a quick kiss on his nose and grabbing his hand, dragging him back into the bedroom. You plop him down on his bed, him letting out an exaggerated “Oof!” as you grab the comb on his dresser.

Eddie notices how the handle appears much more shiny that the other times he had used it, the teeth rid of the clumps of curls. “Looks rather clean.”

You sit behind him on his bed, beginning to tackle the knots, them a lot more easier to comb through with the leave-in conditioner massaged into his scalp. “Mhm,” you hum in response, “Poor thing was covered in hair. Needed its own pamper.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong sweetheart. Just like me, the comb and I are extremely against pampering. We’d rather stay messy and gross.”

You scrunch up your nose, although he can’t see it, “Thought you were meant to be defying the stereotypes baby? Isn’t being messy adding to the ‘Trailer Trash’ label?”

You pat him on the shoulder, him knowing from routine that was a signal for him to turn around. He faces you, holding up a finger in detest, “Nope! I own my labels angel! So, if anything, I should conform to it.”

“Hmm,” you hum, “Pretty with your hair washed though…”

You purse your lips at him, to which he copies, squinting his eyes as you do the same. You had these little moments where you simply made faces at each other. It wasn’t mocking or insulting in any way, it was more endearing than anything. It was little moments like these that you loved oh so much.

Eddie lunges forward, grabbing your left cheek and littering kisses all up the right side of your face. You scream at the random gesture, although used to it. “Eddie!”

However, what he does next is the real annoyer. He leans back, shaking his head like a wet dog, your neat combing job now even messier than before. He knows what he did, giving you a toothy grin as you purse your lips, trying not to laugh at him. You sigh, shaking your head, “I hate you.”

He lets out the biggest gasp, putting a hand to his heart, “Hate me? I thought we had a love that would last forever.”

The giggle escapes your mouth as you reply, “You’re such a dork,” him leaning forward once again and mumbling, “I know,” lifting your chin up with his index finger, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

“Are you gonna sit still for me now?” you ask, smiling brightly as he playfully rolls his eyes, “Yes, my liege.”

You quirk an eyebrow up, combing through the curls that frame his face, “I’m your liege now, huh?”

“Always have been. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he softly speaks, you mumbling out, “Sap,” in response. He wraps his arms around your waist, putting his head down in the crook of your shoulder so you can tackle the back of his head. He places a soft kiss there, whispering, “And proud.”

The rest of your combing job is spent in silence, the two of you basking in the simple domesticity. You loved it when Eddie went all out, taking you to the drive-in movie theatre, blasting out songs in his van at 3am, but something about this was special. It was mundane, but loving. That’s what a relationship is all about, right?”

“Okay,” you say, tackling the last knot situated at the bottom of his hair, “And we’re done.” However, Eddie doesn’t move, still laying against your shoulder. You move his damp hair, placing a few kisses behind his ear, whispering, “You okay there, baby?”

He kisses your neck in response, humming and mumbling, “Yeah… Just love you.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, even though he had said it a thousand times before. It was just something about him. You were proud to call him yours.

“I love you too. Need to get on with the face mask though. S’getting late.”

He groans, lifting himself up, taking an overdramatic deep breath as he opens his eyes, beautiful brown orbs, the colour of a small square of chocolate, staring back at you. His hair is now neatly styled, laying more flat on his head than usual, the curls not as bouncy as they once were. Less Kirk Hammett, like he aspires to be, and more Eddie Van Halen.

You get up off the bed, grabbing the green face mask and brush from your bag, the little luggage you brought with you for your night over laying on the floor by one of his many guitar amps.

You cross your legs, getting comfy in front of him as you screw off the lid. You place it to the side, whispering, “Close your eyes,” as you push his hair back with your white headband, the fluffy accessory sitting neatly atop his head. You attend to the face mask, dipping in the brush, the white bristles being overcoated with a sage green colour.

You swipe the liquid across his face, covering all of his pores and zits. You repeat your action: dip, brush, dip, brush, dip, brush. Eddie hums in content, “Smells nice. What’s in it?”

“It’s tea tree bubba. Helps clear up your pores. S’good for acne.”

You swipe once more across his forehead, leaning back and examining your work. You smile at him, soft eyes gazing into his soul as he admires your pureness, “Okay, all done. Now we have to wait ten minutes for it to dry.”

You screw the lid back on, heading to the bathroom to clean the brush. Meanwhile, Eddie has already picked up his acoustic guitar, strumming down the strings to make sure it was in tune.

You lean down to place your skincare belongings back in your bag, asking him, “Been working on anything sweets?”

“Just a ‘lil somethin’…” he replies, clipping the capo onto the second fret, “Still working on it though.”

You lie down on your front, heading leaning against the soft sheets as you legs swing back and forth. “Sure it sounds great.”

He plays you his tune, a more softer sound to what he normally forms, reminding you of ‘Fade to Black,’ a song which Eddie introduced you to. You simply lay there, basking in the way that his fingers pluck at the strings, his left hand moving up and down the fret board in a smooth motion. You loved how dedicated he was to his music, to the band. He even talked to you about pursing it full-time after high school, something you were very supportive of. You loved how passionate he was about it all.

He breathes out, “That’s what I’ve got so far… What do you think?”

You smile at him, “You know I always love what you create Eds. The real question is: do you think it sounds good?”

He drums his fingers against the underside of the guitar, “That’s what I can’t figure out sweets, I like the key, but the fingerpicking sounds off.”

“So it’s not a chord problem?”

He shakes his head, mumbling, “No… I don’t think so anyway.”

“Hmm…” you wonder, trying to think of suggestions with your limited musical knowledge, “How about this?” You hum him a tune, taking different turns that the ones his fingers took, him beginning to copy your humming on his guitar.

Once you stop, he picks up, playing the tune you had created. He puts his fingers over the fret, stopping his movements. He huffs, a slight frustration laced in his tone, “How are you better than me? I should’ve been the one to figure that out…”

He wasn’t jealous of you by any means, not at all. No, he was just annoyed in himself. Your boyfriend was very self-critical, no matter how much he tried to hide it behind the facade of owning his labels. He may have been comfortable in his freak identity, but he never overcame the self-doubt of being less smart than other people.

You maneuver yourself so you are sitting up to face him. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks and saying, “Sometimes you just need a little push. It’s okay to ask for help, you know.”

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing out, “I know, it’s just… Apart from Wayne, you’re one of the first people to ever actually help me. You know how the teachers are… I’m not a third time super-senior for nothin’…”

“S’because I care about you and the teachers don’t. You’re smarter than they think. Don’t ever think otherwise, m’kay?”

He purses his lips, pausing a little before eventually nodding. You tap his nose, looking at your index finger to see it come off clean. “It’s dry now,” you say with a smile, pecking his lips. “Sit on the bed for me. Let me bring in a pot of water. No need for you to move.”

He has no time to answer, your request practically a soft demand as he lays his guitar back down gently, shifting himself from the chair over to the bed.

You return with water in a small, grey pot, a similar-coloured flannel to support as you delicately place it on Eddie’s bed, careful not to spill any on his sheets. Although, you’d seen his mattress, it was ruined anyway from various different things, some you don’t even want to think about.

You soak the flannel in the water, letting it absorb the warmth before wringing it out, telling Eddie, “Close your eyes please.”

He follows your request, eyelids fluttering closed as you press the damp flannel to his skin, caringly wiping away the dried, green face mask. You hum once it’s all off, running back to the bathroom to tip away the water, Eddie barely getting chance to recognise your departure as he sees you shifting through your bag again.

Eddie blinks rapidly as you brings over many different bottles and tubs of products. “I need all of this?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “I use all of these every night.”

“Seems like a lot of fuss.”

You shrug, “Suppose. But, it makes my skin smooth, so I’m not complaining.”

You take the cap off of the first product, “Okay, this is a toner. It gets rid of any last dirt you may have on your face.” You spritz it over, fanning it so it settles on his pale skin. “Also, it makes you stay younger for longer. But… you know me. I say embrace aging, you know?”

“I know you do,” he says, “Because you see beauty in everyone, and I love that about you.”

“Can’t help that humans are beautiful,” you giggle, Eddie’s heart melting at your words. You were just so pure.

“Okay, this is an eye cream. You apply it with your ring finger,” you demonstrate, scooping some of the cream up, “Prevents dryness. Makes your skin smooth.”

Eddie closes his eyes as you gently pat it under his eyes, rubbing it across as it absorbs into his skin.

You smile widely, “You look glowy already. Okay, night serum! This helps with your blemishes, calms them down a little.” You press the top of the pipette, letting the liquid flow down his cheeks, placing more on his forehead and chin. Using the ends of your fingers, you delicately massage it into his skin.

Eddie taps his own skin, grimacing, “Feels sticky.”

“Because you haven’t let it fully absorb yet!” you laugh, “Just one more thing. And I’m sure you’re gonna love it a lot.”

You reach behind you, dramatically holding the pot of cream in front of him. He takes it out of his hands, reading the label, “Weed cream?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle, “They label it ‘Hemp Cream,’ but we all know it comes from the same plant. So yes… weed cream.”

“Fuckin’ knew weed was good for you. The government sitting there telling everyone it’s bad for you, and they’re shoving it into skincare products.”

You scoop the cream up onto your fingers, rubbing it into Eddie’s skin as you explain, “They allow this because it’s non-psychoactive. Although, I have seen THC oil kicking around Hawkins stores for a long time. Stupid regulations.”

“Exactly sweetheart. Only allow it when it’s used by the conforming population…”

“Like alcohol,” you reply, Eddie nodding along with you. You’d had many conversations about how weed and alcohol had the same short-term and long-term effects, even arguing that weed had less of the two. The only difference you concluded was that everyone ‘normal’ consumed alcohol. Funny that the main group that smoked weed were Mexicans. You and Eddie knew they were hiding their racism.

“Okay, and… we are done!” you smile brightly, screwing the lid back on your pot of cream, “Go over to the mirror baby. Judge my craft.”

Eddie heads over to the mirror as you place your skincare items neatly back in your overnight bag. You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “How did I do?”

“Amazing, thank you,” he replies sweetly, lifting your hand up and giving it a tender kiss.

“S’getting late,” you remind him with a yawn, “Have school tomorrow.”

“Indeed we do. You ready to head to bed?”

You hum, getting into Eddie’s bed, snuggling under the silken sheets as he flicks off his bedroom light. Although you don’t see him, you feel the bed dip under his weight, his arm draping over your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “G’night.”

“Night baby.”

And as the two of you fall asleep, you drift off knowing both of your skins were well-cleansed and softly pampered. The perfect way to end a night.

hope you enjoyed! ♡

eddie masterlist.

[eightisviii]

Happy Birthday Kakashi!!!

My first ever contribution my all-time favorite husband hehe

First up, we've got a bday picmix:

Birthday crown for the birthday boy!!!!!!!

Second, I also made a video edit:

I love Sabrina Carpenter and Kakashi, it's a great combo fr

Then lastly, I made my first ever y/n x Kakashi (and first ever Y/N fic in general):

You've just gotten off work with just enough time to spare for some good alone time, your introverted inner self really yelling at you for using up all of your social battery for that whole week. You just can't help it; busy days, given your work, meant socializing. And socializing meant dread. But that's all over now. You've got your pay check, a little less patience, and you're on your way to the quaint little bookstore you often go to. Getting a book shouldn't take you too long since the bookstore visibly barely has any other customers. Feeling daring, you treat yourself to the erotica aisle, thinking you can read it to yourself later and get a much needed release after all that work tensing your muscles. As you look over the shelves of books with varying degrees of spice, you hear someone's footsteps approaching. Maybe they like erotica too? You hope whatever force of luck is out there that they aren't judging you for being there. After all, you're both browsing the same aisle, so what right would they have? You pretend to occupy yourself with the titles on the spines, fluttering your fingers past them. "Excuse me," a deep, masculine voice graced your right ear, thickened with what sounds like a Japanese accent. Soon, you felt just a bit of force making you abruptly step forward to let the person rush past you. Your attention was pulled, and you end up looking just a little bit to your left to find a man readily kneeling on one knee to browse a specific row of the erotica specific. He looks so focused, so determined. With the book pulled from its row, you got a good look at the cover of a man chasing after a sultry woman in the cover. And that's when it clicked: you know that shelf's title! "Makeout Tactics?" You blurt out. The man turned to look at you from that distance—bless this man's hearing—and his eyes gleamed a dark grey. "You know this one?" Again, that thick accent, though it actually doesn't sound bad when it's paired with his deep voice. More like heavenly. After a brief moment of fawning over the man's voice and internally mulling over your embarrassment in that situation, you answered, "Y-Yeah," albeit with a bit of a fumble, "who doesn't?" You recall that the book was a nationwide sensation, and there are rumors of an upcoming movie adaptation. Why would this man be so surprised that someone else also knows of it? "Ah, yes…" The man mumbled under his breath, the gleam in his eyes from before gone in an instant. And all of a sudden now you feel bad. He looked so enthusiastic just now… Maybe most of the readers who made the novel sensational in the first place aren't exactly up for chatting about it? You purse your lips and look around for an answer, as if it would magically appear and write itself on the floor tiles. "New edition," he followed through and tapped the cover for emphasis. "Most only read the first book." You blinked and figured that makes sense. Looking up, you find that the man is now a few distances closer than you swear he was earlier and your eyes widen slightly as your cheeks flush. The man sported a white hoodie over his head but it did nothing to hide his handsome features at this angle. The strong jaw, bedroom eyes, and strong physique. Why is this man even in the erotica section when he can get 'it' anywhere?! "Hmm… Do you recommend it?" You step forward, joining him in that section, and you can smell the fresh scent of cologne from him in this proximity.

"I know!" He proceeded to give you a readily made piece of paper with two numbers labeled Guy and Kakashi respectively. "We make friends here in America! You can text us on that." Your eyes glanced at Kakashi every now and then. What a strange day. You take the piece of paper regardless and open your mouth to speak. "And we're off!" But Guy was already dragging Kakashi by the arm somewhere else before you got a word in. You shut your mouth and wonder... You grip the paper a little tighter. You can contact that cute guy with this.

so will you? cus i def will. anws that's all for my contributions today, thanks for viewingg

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

He’s not a NRC student but…

Rollo: “What are YOU doing here?” (Assuming that pre Playful Land piece you wrote happened and Rollo just happened to be at NRC for whatever reason.)

[Referencing this fic!]

This interaction is fr the "wow, these people are so weird; thank god I'm the normal one" meme 🤡 Pretend Gidel's off chasing butterflies or something--

So tell me, do you wanna go?

“What are YOU doing here?!”

The words had been taken right out of his mouth. They were spoken simultaneously, two accusatory fingers pointing in the opposite directions. One away from him, one toward…

A young man with a silvery bowl cut, bangs short, dark circles under his even darker eyes shaded by a tricone hat. His robes were elaborate in their stitching, golden thread spinning into flowers that hugged his waist and circles his arms. The aura he radiated was quiet but intense, all the heat and power of a devastating wildfire contained in a single human being.

“I remember you!” Fellow cried, brusque with his declaration. “You’re that shitty brat with the awful personality! The one that brushed us off at the docks and threatened to set me on fire!"

"And you are the incredibly shifty, invasive conman who sought to lure innocent children into the claws of magic." Rollo grimaced, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. "... It seems you've dropped the polite pretenses since our last encounter."

"Yeah, well, no point in puttin' on those airs anymore. I left my last job, so I'm not obligated to kiss ass."

"How... good for you."

Rollo’s reply, while curt, was phrased politely enough—but the pause stuck out. His eyes burned with disdain, as though he were regarding something offensive. A piece of trash, maybe. No, dirt. Perhaps something even lower than dirt.

Rollo averted his gaze, as if to end the conversation then and there. The dismissive motion grinded Fellow’s gears, sandpaper rubbing on his skin.

What, am I not worth his time to talk to? Who does he think he is?!

Fellow clenched his jaw and forced a smile. “So, my good man! What have you been up to since we last met, hmm?”

“… Official business.” Rollo glanced at the documents tucked under one of his arms. “As Student Council President of Noble Bell College, it falls to me to act as our representative and to engage with other magic schools.”

Fellow blew out air through his teeth. “You’re a real hotshot, huh?”

One of the lucky ones, polished and put on a pedestal. Envy tugged at Fellow’s heartstrings. What he would give to be a part of that glittering world, not a worry to his name.

“One could say that, yes.” Rollo seemed to be frowning with his entire body. His expression, his posture. “Hmph. It is a burden I did not ask for. How troublesome.”

Fellow straightened—irked. “What are you talking about? You have any idea how many people would kill to be where you are? Be a little more grateful, wouldja?”

“Excuse me?” Rollo’s brows twitched. “Who are you to judge others and determine how they ought to behave?”

“You don’t have to be a somebody with a fancy title to know when there’s a bad seed around.”

“You do not know me,” Rollo said icily. “Do not presume that you do.”

You could never understand what I’ve been through!!

He looked the beastman up and down, noting the patchwork in his attire, the holes in his façade. “… Pray forgive that I do not place much stock in your word. You do not present as a scholar, nor an upstanding adult of any sort.”

The comment cut deep, striking at his core. Fellow lashed out in defense.

“S-So what?! I don’t need a hoity toity kid like you labelling me. You’re bound to school and its rules. Me? I’m free to go wherever I like, whenever I please.”

Rollo sniffed, unimpressed. “So you claim—yet you linger at the feet of this institution of those who worship sin. It’s perfectly clear what your motive is, Mr. Honest. Like an parasite drawn to rotting fruit, you seek to be in the vicinity of that power, hoping to leech some of it for yourself. You too are one of the mindless sheep clamoring for a crumb of magic, not recognizing that pursuit will inevitably lead to your demise.”

Fellow blinked. His anger wavered, mixing with confusion. “Wh-What the hell, kid! You always gotta talk like a doomer?! Unclench your face for a second and take a breather, sheesh! I’m getting depressed just standing here listening to you mouth off.”

Rollo scoffed. “If you ask me, you do not take life seriously enough.”

“Life’s meant to be fun. Not all work, no play. You’ll become a dull and jaded grown-up if you keep going down this path.”

“I would rather be that than a fool who holds fast to his childish delusions.”

"Psssh. Least I'm not a hardass. All the privilege in the world and you still gotta act all sour."

Rollo stared at him, his gaze cold and steely. Fellow returned it. The same thought filled both of their heads.

He isn't satisfied with what he has now. He wants something more for himself than this. He's...

Deplorable, Rollo thought.

A greedy bastard, Fellow thought.

And when, at last, the staring became too much for either to bare, Rollo coughed into a fist. "If you will excuse me. I mustn't dawdle. These documents have to be delivered to Headmaster Crowley in a timely manner."

He paused deliberately.

"... I will pray for you," Rollo murmured as he walked off, his steps brisk and snappy.

Fellow gawked after him, appalled.

"Yeah, good riddance!" he hollered. "Hope the door hits ya on the way out!!"

[spockandstars]

I was thinking about how Spock is intentionally paralleled with Sydney Carton from A Tale of Two Cities in The Wrath of Khan, and now I am unwell!

At the beginning of the movie, Spock famously gives Kirk A Tale of Two Cities as a birthday present. This book was specifically included for its themes of sacrifice and resurrection, which obviously mirror Spock’s decision to give up his life to save the crew. Notably, Kirk’s final lines reference the famous closing of the novel.

Kirk: It is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done before... a far better resting in place I go to than I have ever known...

Carol: is that a poem?

Kirk: Something Spock was trying to tell me. On my birthday.

So what’s the importance of this line? The famous “far better thing” quote is from the book’s ending when Carton has just sacrificed himself for his beloved Lucie, giving himself up to be executed in place of her husband so that she may find happiness. (Live long and prosper, anyone?)

Interestingly, both Spock and Carton are emotionally repressed characters, and anguish over the depth of their love for the people who uniquely see them for who they are — in this case, Jim and Lucie. While I’d argue that Spock is more at peace with himself and his feelings for Jim after the events of the first movie, the point still stands that Jim is the one to truly understand him in a world that labels him as a cold and calculating being.

I believe that this is what Kirk’s line calling Spock’s soul “the most human I have ever encountered,” is supposed to represent. (Even though I agree with the criticism that it could have been worded better!) Similarly, Lucie is the one to recognize Carton’s inner nature in spite of his aloof facade, begging “I would ask you to believe that [Carton] has a heart he very, very seldom reveals, and that there are deep wounds in it.” (Book 2, Chapter 20.)

When Carton finally admits his love to Lucie, it’s hard not to see the resemblance to Spock’s dilemma in the first movie. You know, that time when Spock, in his heartbreak over something related to Jim (that were not given an explanation for), cries out “Jim! Good-bye my . . . my t’hy’la. This is the last time I will permit myself to think of you or even your name again!” before attempting to purge himself of all feelings in an ancient ritual, and failing because the Vulcan priestess can totally sense that he’s still thinking about Kirk. (Yup, that totally straight time!)

Well, Carton is in a similarly agonizing predicament, because he can’t get his feelings for Lucie to go away. He tells her, “I break down before the knowledge of what I want to say to you” and “I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire—a fire, however, inseparable in its nature from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no service, idly burning away.” (Book 2, Chapter 13)

He also expresses that he could never separate his love for her from himself, saying that “Within myself, I shall always be, towards you, what I am now.” (Book 2, Chapter 13) Yeah, I know the fact this mirrors Spock’s famous “I have been and always shall be yours” is probably a coincidence, but I’ll be damned if I don’t mention it.

Finally, Carton expresses his love for her in his willingness to sacrifice himself for her sake: “For you, and for any dear to you, I would do anything. If my career were of that better kind that there was any opportunity or capacity of sacrifice in it, I would embrace any sacrifice for you and for those dear to you… there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!” (Book 2, Chapter 13.) Of course, Carton’s story ends when he sacrifices himself for her, fulfilling this promise. Hmm, now who else does that sound like?

This is definitely not a perfect parallel: Spock doesn’t start out as a lazy alcoholic, although there is an argument to be made that Carton’s low self-worth reflects Spock’s before he went on his conversion therapy fueled journey of self discovery. Additionally, I wouldn’t say that Spock’s love for Kirk is unrequited like Carton’s for Lucie, (as evidenced by many things, but I’ll primarily point to the events of The Motion Picture and The Search for Spock), but you could potentially cast Carol in the role of Darnay, Lucie’s husband.

The most important thing to glean from this is that Spock was very deliberately set up to be the Carton figure, which is interesting given that Carton’s actions are driven by his willingness to do anything to see his beloved be happy and prosper.

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

i need a mark lee drabble so bad like hes soo attractive 🫡🫡

I highkey owe yall a mark fic so even though this was submitted after closing i'll indulge lol.

Hes a little drabble from a WIP im supposed to be working on lmaoooo. I have no idea when it will be done, but nothings set in stone so if you wanna see certain elements in this fic lmk and ill put em to the side once i get to writing this.

Baby, I'm a rockstar Mark x reader sneak peak

“You only joined to get back at me!” Mark insists, his tone a mix of frustration and accusation.

“Hmm, not quite. I also joined to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Mark’s band, Limitless, had recently lost its lead singer, Yuta, who had been signed to a major label, effectively sidelining the rest of the group. The sudden vacancy left the members feeling tense and unsure of their future as a band.

Mark posted about the opening along with the audition details, you felt an irresistible pull to be there. It was a chance to reclaim some of the passion you once shared with music—just as much as it was an opportunity to confront Mark again.

Your relationship with him had ended on shaky terms; he had chosen the band over you, pouring himself into rehearsals and gigs, and leaving little room for anything else. You often wondered if he had ever truly cared, or if you had just been a distraction from his ambitions. Now, it was hard to resist throwing barbs his way whenever possible, letting him know exactly how you felt about his choices.

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus, too. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists in annoyance, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on without him. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish! You're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “Your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out of the practice room.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Hmmmm.... Sephiroth gets sent out on a LONG ass mission on a Tuesday by himself. (a segment of one of your asks)

The Wild Goose Chase Prank On Sephiroth

• Zack's most elaborate prank yet has Sephiroth as its victim. He has Kunsel hack into the mission roster's system and give Sephiroth a solo mission to the middle of nowhere in the western continent.

• It's summer, it's humid, and Sephiroth's assignment is to find an escaped creature from R&D labeled a "Triserpoco"

• Zack photoshopped an extra leg and a zolom head on a chocobo.

• Sephiroth takes the mission, seething with rage as he thinks about the poor creature having been subjected to Hojo's experimentation—it's the main reason Sephiroth doesn't question the mission. Knowing Hojo, a chocobo-zolom hybrid is something he would pull.

• He's flown out to a quiet little village near the coast, where the mission detailed that it had last been seen.

• The villagers are absolutely perplexed to see a Shinra helicopter touch down on their quaint village, and even more so when the Sephiroth appears. But nothing could've prepared the poor mayor for the "Triserpoco."

*Sephiroth holds up the clearly photoshopped picture*

Sephiroth: I'm looking for this creature.

Mayor:

Sephiroth: Don't laugh.

Mayor: I'm sorry.

Sephiroth: This is a serious matter. It's classified as a highly dangerous and invasive creature that could—sir please stop laughing, your village is in danger.

• After the mayor asks the other officials who confirm that there has never been a sighting of that creature in the village, Sephiroth takes matters into his own hands. He figures that since chocobos flock to grass lands and Zoloms to marshes, he'll have better luck on the outskirts of the village where there's nature.

• He asks a curious and starry-eyed group of kids near the town hall where he can locate the local chocobo-keeper, or perhaps the farmer. Once the kids finally finish asking him for his autograph and waxing poetic about how awesome he is, they point him in the right direction.

• He decides to try his luck and ask the kids if they've seen the Triserpoco, since children are naturally adventurous and would be the first to find some mythical creature when playing in nature.

Child #1: I never saw that in my life, Mister Sephiroth!

Child #2: Me neither! It looks fake. Are you sure that's not a photoshopped picture?

Sephiroth: No, children. This is a Triserpoco. It is a very real and very dangerous creature that I must catch before it harms the townspeople.

Child #3: Hmm I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.

Sephiroth: It does too.

Child #3: Does not.

Sephiroth: Does too.

Child #3: Does not.

Child #4: I know where it is! I saw it that creature by down the river!

Sephiroth: Ah, thank you.

*He turns to child #3, lowers himself to his eye level, and leans in to whisper in his ear*

Sephiroth: It does too.

• He finds the local chocobo-keeper at his farm—after traversing a field full of clingy chocobos who want to cuddle him.

Sephiroth: I'm looking for this creature. Have you seen it?

Farmer: Son that's photoshopped.

Sephiroth: I appreciate the concern, but this is Shinra's official image of the Triserpoco, a hybrid who escaped captivity and was last sighted in this village.

Farmer:

Sephiroth:

Farmer: Do you want us to contact Shinra and tell them that you're here?

Sephiroth: I assure you I'm of sane mind. I'm just trying to locate this creature and get it back to Midgar before it harms someone.

• The farmer tells Sephiroth he'll have better luck looking it in thing in the woods, since that's the best place something could hide.

• Sephiroth declined the farmer's wife's offer to join them for lunch, but accepts the borrowed chocobo for his journey.

• Sephiroth rides to the woods on the chocobo and begins his search for the Triserpoco. One hour in, he hears some ruffling in the trees and stops.

• Bandits. As if he didn't have enough to deal with.

• They try to ambush him unsuccessfully. Sephiroth manages to protect the chocobo and fight the group of men off, tying them to a nearby tree.

Bandit #1: Let us go! You defeated us already!

Sephiroth: Absolutely not. While I've got you, have you seen this creature?

*Sephiroth pulls out the Triserpoco picture and shows it to them*

Bandit #1:

Sephiroth: Well?

Bandit #2: Is this a joke?

Sephiroth: Do I look like a comedian to you?

Bandit #1: That's photoshop.

Sephiroth: It's a Triserpoco, a dangerous hybrid bred in captivity that went missing around this area.

Bandit #3: That's bad photoshop too.

Bandit #2: Dude are you high? Guys maybe he's lost or something.

Sephiroth: I am not inebriated nor am I insane.

Bandit #1: Are you sure Shinra sent you here to look for that?

Sephiroth: Yes. If you are able to provide information I might be inclined to let you go.

Bandit #2: My cousin photoshopped a picture of herself marrying Genesis Rhapsodos once and told everyone it was real.

Sephiroth:

Bandit #2: She's in jail now for setting her house on fire.

Sephiroth: What on earth does this story have to do with my question?

Bandit #2: She legally changed her name to Sephiroth when she was 18.

Sephiroth: I'm leaving.

• Sephiroth ventures further into the woods, stopping twice to pause, rest and consider retirement a total of 58 times. He keeps his eyes peeled for the creature, but even he's starting to doubt why Shinra would send him out here alone with no additional information about the sightings.

• He doesn't dwell too much on it though. Hojo's involvement and R&D's penchant for secrecy makes the mission sound normal.

• Sephiroth finally comes across a river and ascertains that it's the same river the enthusiastic three-year-old claimed to have seen the Triserpoco. He sees a old woman fishing by the river bank and decides to ask her for information.

*34 minutes later*

Sephiroth: Ma'am, for the last time. While I'm flattered, I have no interest in marrying your granddaughter. I'm sure she's lovely but—

Old Woman: You're gay.

Sephiroth: Excuse me?

Old Woman: That's perfectly fine! I have a nephew who's gay. Oh, I should've known. You look very gay, did you know that?

Sephiroth: I wish to speak to you about a creature that escaped Shinra's captivity a few weeks ago—

Old Woman: What about Genesis Rhapsodos? Do you think you could introduce him to my granddaughter?

Sephiroth: Ma'am if I look gay, he looks like he's been inhaling the rainbow since birth.

Old Woman:

*Sephiroth pulls out the picture*

Sephiroth: Have you seen the Triserpoco?

Old Woman: Oh, I know what that is. The kids these days call it photoshop.

Sephiroth, through clenched teeth: It's not an edited image. It's a real creature. Have you seen it or not?

Old Woman: You'll have better luck looking for that thing in the mountains.

Sephiroth: Why the mountains?

Old Woman: Have you checked the mountains?

Sephiroth: No.

Old Woman: There you go.

• Sephiroth thanks her and leaves for the mountains. On his way there, he stumbles across a path near the lake that leads to some wet lands. He figures he should try his luck there before going up the mountain.

• There he finds a group of teenagers hunting and decides to avoid them entirely and instead try his luck with the man collecting crabs in the marsh.

Sephiroth: Hello. I'm looking for this creature, the Triserpoco. Have you seen it, perhaps?

*Sephiroth holds up the image*

Man: That's photoshop.

Sephiroth: It's a Triserpoco.

Man: That doesn't exist.

Sephiroth: It's a hybrid bred in captivity. Only one of its kind exists.

Man: I think someone's playing a joke on you, boy. That looks like something straight out of a horror movie.

Sephiroth: So you have not seen the Triserpoco?

Man: No one in the world has seen the Tripsipico.

Sephiroth: Do you have any idea where I could find more information about the Triserpoco?

Man: You could try a psychiatrist.

Sephiroth:

Man: Have you spoken to that group of teenagers over there?

Sephiroth: No.

Man: Do you intend to?

Sephiroth: Please don't make me.

Man: .....?

Sephiroth: Fine. I'll talk to them. Thank you for your time and help.

• Sephiroth turns around and begrudgingly makes his way towards the group of noisy teens. Just as he had feared, one of them is wearing a Silver Elite T-shirt. After the initial fanfare, groveling and autographs, Sephiroth calms them down enough.

*He shows them the picture*

Teen #1: What is that, satan??

Sephiroth: IT'S A TRISERPOCO.

Teen #2: That looks like bad—

Sephiroth: I KNOW I KNOW BAD PHOTOSHOP.

Teen #3: Uh..Are you oka—

Sephiroth: I'M FINE.

Teen #4: Really? Because you look—

Sephiroth: GAY, YES, WE'VE ESTABLISHED THAT.

• For the first time in his life Sephiroth manages to scare away a group of people without needing to take his sword out. He sighs, turns around, and begins his trek up the mountain. He wonders wether those therapy vouchers Angeal gave him for his birthday are still valid.

• He decides that if the Triserpoco isn't anywhere on the mountain, he'll declare this as a mission failed and go home. It's a foreign concept to him. He hasn't failed a mission since he was a child.

• Back at the headquarters, Zack can't sit still and finish his overdue mission reports. He keeps giggling and thinking of the wild goose chase he sent Sephiroth on. This distracts Genesis, who's on the SOLDIER lounge trying to read.

Genesis: What's so funny?

Zack: I'm playing a prank on Sephiroth. I had the mission roster send him out to the western continent to look for a monster that doesn't exist.

Genesis: That's brilliant. Why didn't I think of that?

*Angeal walks in*

Angeal: Has anyone seen Sephiroth? Director Lazard's sent for him but no one can find him.

Zack: He's out on a mission looking for the Triserpoco.

Angeal: The what?

*Zack holds up an image of the photoshopped creature, unable to contain his laugh*

Genesis: That's what you sent Sephiroth on a wild goose chase for?? That photoshop is horrendous! He's never going to buy that!

Zack: He already did! He left on his mission nine hours ago. He should be back any moment now empty handed.

Angeal: He's going to murder you. He's going to shove your head in an oven and make you suffocate on the fumes from your hair gel.

Zack: No he's not! Sephiroth will think it's hilarious. He hasn't failed a mission since he was a runt. This is refreshing for him!

*And then the elevator doors open. Sephiroth steps out, looking exhausted as he pulls a Three-Legged-Chocobo-Zolom hybrid on a leash*

Sephiroth: Good evening, gentlemen.

Zack:

Sephiroth: I found the Triserpoco.

Zack:

Sephiroth: It's appalling what atrocities Hojo uses R&D's resources for.

Zack:

Sephiroth: Anyway, I must take it back up to the labs.

Zack: But this is impossible...The Triserpoco doesn't exist....It's photoshop....

*Sephiroth turns to Angeal and hands the leash to him*

Sephiroth: Hold this for me.

*Sephiroth unsheathes The Masamune*

Sephiroth: COME HERE.

Zack: WAIT WAIT I'M SORRY I'M SORRY OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW ANGEAL HELP.

*Zack runs away as Sephiroth chases him, hurling balls of firaga at his feet*