#i am just not very good at writing the thing

[holdmytesseract]

Mother Knows Best

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N feat. Frigga

Summary: Loki is quite a bit uncertain and afraid of becoming a father - but luckily his mother is here to soothe his worries. After all, mother knows best, right?

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, sweet Loki and Frigga moments, Loki being a mama's boy and very protective, pregnancy things

Word Count: 1,5k

a/n: Finally some Baby Fever again, yaay! 🤗 To write this sweet, lil' story has been on my mind for a long time... I hope y'all enjoy it!

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th <3

"Darling?" Loki opened slowly the door of the meeting room in which you were going to give a lecture in about twenty minutes for a few SHIELD agents.

"Come in!" You called out to your husband; allowing him to enter the small room.

Loki found you currently connecting your laptop to the projector hanging on the ceiling. He smiled watching you work and decided to step closer.

"Hey, babe!" Your beautiful Y/E/C eyes lit up when you met his gaze.

Those irises are shining even more now, Loki noticed; his mind immediately connecting it to the famous pregnancy glow. The mere thought caused his heart to skip a beat. Twelve weeks in and he still quite couldn't believe it.

"Hello, my love." The god reciprocated your radiating smile and passed by the huge table in order to get to you.

Greeting you with a lingering kiss, you welcomed him with open arms; crossing your hands behind his neck.

"And you, babe? Off to visit your parents?" Loki smiled; confirming your suggestion with a nod. "Well, rather my mother, since my father will most likely be busy as always - but indeed. I'm going to Asgard now. Is that alright, my love? Are you getting along... alone?" "Sure. I am almost done preparing and-" "That's not what I meant, Y/N," your husband interrupted you; slight worry reflecting on his face. One of his hands travelled to rest on the tiny baby bump, which became clearly visible mere two days ago. Concerned blue eyes looking from your face to the bump and back.

"Getting ready for your lecture?" He asked; hands landing on your hips; thumbs immediately starting to rub soft circles into your clothed skin.

You nodded and buried your hands in his raven locks. "Mhm. I hope the technology is working properly this time." You let out a small laugh. "Fingers crossed that it will work." Loki chuckled and leaned against the white, wooden table; pulling you softly with him, so that you came to stand between his spread legs.

"I hope it is showing you some mercy today." You nodded, "Would be favourable, yup." and paused for a moment to just admire the stunningly handsome man in front of you. His raven hair was wild and free; falling in gentle waves over his broad shoulders. Loki was wearing a traditional green, gold and black Asgardian tunic. You loved it when he wore the clothes of his home.

Your husband gave you a last look, before he vanished in the familiar rainbow light of the Bifrost.

"I know," You winked at him and stood on your tiptoes to press your lips against his for another kiss. "We're good, I promise. Please, go and visit your parents." "Are you really sure, my love?" You gave him a nod and smile. "To 100 per cent. You wanted to visit them since two months..." He swallowed - and you could see that a bit of guilt flashed in his eyes. "Yes, but... I-I couldn't leave you alone. You know I didn't want to. Not until you passed the first critical twelve weeks-" "Which I did today," you interrupted him; taking his free hand in yours and placing the other on top of his, which was still splayed over your stomach.

"Go, babe. I'm sure Frigga is dying to enfold her youngest son in her arms." Loki nodded; gave you a soft smile and a kiss. "I'll see you later. Call Heimdall if something is wrong. He can send me straight back." You smiled; squeezing his hand, before you let go. "Noted, babe. See you later - and please greet your parents from me." Loki walked to the open space at the back of the room, "Definitely, my love." and looked up to the ceiling. "Heimdall? Please take me home!"

"Thank you, Heimdall. I appreciate this very much." The man in golden armour gave Loki a small bow. "I informed the king and queen of your arrival. You are awaited." He gave him a nod in order to thank him and made his way towards the royal palace.

The first thing Loki did, when his feet touched Asgardian ground, was to straighten his tunic and run a hand through his long curls. He didn't want to look dishevelled when meeting his parents. He was a prince after all...

"Welcome home, my prince." Heimdall greeted Loki; giving him a nod. "Thank you, Heimdall. It's been quite a long time... Great to be back." "Indeed..." Heimdall started to smile. "But you had your reasons. Lady Y/N has probably already conveyed my greetings, but... Congratulations, again, my prince." Loki couldn't help but smile; grateful that he got along with the Gatekeeper so well by now - which certainly had not always been the case.

Once the younger prince of Asgard arrived at the gates of the palace, he already saw his mother waiting for him; a big smile displayed on her face. "Loki..." She welcomed her son with open arms. The god smiled; his heart sloshing over with love. "Mother."

Frigga immediately pulled him into a tight hug - and not letting go again. "Congratulations, my son - from the bottom of my very heart. I'm so, so proud of you. Of the wonderful man you became."

The god had a hard time to hold back his tears - but he couldn't. Neither could Frigga.

"I love you, mother."

"Thank you, mother," he choked out; hot, salty liquid dripping from his chin and soaking the fabric of Frigga's dress.

He felt how the queen started to shake her head, before she backed up a bit, in order to cup her son's cheeks. She wiped his tears away with her thumbs; staring into his matching blue eyes. The Allmother smiled; still seeing the little boy Loki once was standing in front of her.

"No, Loki... You don't have to thank me. You did this. You made all this on your own." The god smiled through his tears and pulled her into another hug.

Frigga buried a hand in his locks; squeezing his tall body. "I love you, too, son."

"How is Y/N doing?" Frigga continued to speak after a few steps. "Everything alright with her and the baby?" Loki nodded quickly. "Yes, yes. She and the baby are doing well." "That is reassuring to hear."

After the heartily reunion of mother and son, Frigga took her son on a little walk through the nature of Asgard.

"Where's father?" Loki asked, while strolling alongside Frigga down the forest path with her arm looped through his. "He's joining us later," Frigga answered and gave her son a little mischievous smile. "I allowed myself to take a selfish moment alone with you." He couldn't help but chuckle.

Another few steps passed in silence, until a small giggle slipped past the Allmother's lips. "I still can't believe that my littlest boy is going to become a father soon." Loki responded with a light-headed chuckle of his own. "Me neither, mother. It... It's still quite overwhelming from time to time. Especially now since Y/N is starting to show. I-"

Once again, he had to fight the tears.

He sighed; knowing that he wasn't able to hide anything from his mother. "I... I am excited, yes. But I am also so afraid. What if I am... A bad father? What if I can't be the person this child needs me to be? What if I fail, mother?" Frigga immediately stopped in her movements; causing Loki to stop, too. "Loki..." She took his hands. "You will not fail." "What makes you think that? Why are you so certain of this? Failing is in my nature, I-" The Allmother smiled; interrupting her child once more. "It's not. You did not fail your probation." Loki blinked. "You did not fail the beautiful relationship you have with your wife." "Y-Yes, but..." Frigga squeezed his hands. "No buts, son. You won't fail. You're going to be the best father. Your heart and the love you will feel for this small creature is going to guide you, believe me."

"I-I'm so incredibly happy." Frigga smiled. "And it shows, son. You have all the right to be happy. You deserve it and yet... I feel something overshadowing your happiness. What is it?"

The god's eyes widened at his mother's words. How in all the nine realms was she able to- "Motherly instinct, sweetheart. You'll know what I'm talking about as soon as you hold your very own child in your arms. Tell me." "M-Mother, I-" "Nuh.Uh," she interrupted him immediately again. "Loki, when are you finally going to understand that lying to me will never work? You may be able to trick all the others around you... But not me."

Loki’s features softened. "Truly?" "Yes. I know this is frightening and a big change, but... Don't let your fears overshadow your happiness. You've grown, sweetheart. You're stronger and wiser - and you have a wonderful lady by your side."

The god smiled; letting his mother's words sink in.

Loki nodded; letting go of Frigga and gestured towards the little path. "After you."

"Thank you. I really hope you're right." Frigga lifted a hand to cup his cheek. "I know I'll be right. I can feel it." Loki turned his head to place a soft kiss on her wrist.

The goddess smiled. "Let's head back to the palace, shall we? I bet your father is already awaiting us."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments)

[notyourjaem]

2:46 AM ★ P. JISUNG

★ PAIRING: boyfriend!jisung x female!reader

★ GENRE: est. relationship, period sex, NSFW

★ SUMMARY: you can’t sleep because of your period cramps, good thing your boyfriend knows of a way to help you feel better.

★ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

★ CONTENT/WARNINGS: period! sex! do not read if you don’t like that!, multiple orgasms, fingering, red hair jisung (grants a warning), jisung is a very sweet boy, nipple sucking, soft sex/somewhat rough sex, creampie. oh and this isn’t really proofread 💀 sorry

★ AUTHORS NOTE: uhhhh I was on my period when I started this and one thing let to another and..yeah. first time writing period sex so lemme know how I did 😎 I will tag my girl @be-my-sunrise because she is my #1 jisung whore. this is for uuuu!! 💞 and happy birthday jisung even though im a day late (never a dollar short)

You stared at the red numbers glowing on the alarm clock the bedside table before rubbing your eyes; almost like the numbers would change when you looked again.

nope, still the same.

Shifting around underneath the comforter, you turned over to see your boyfriend in a deep sleep. You huffed, clearly feeling some kind of envy of Jisung actually feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep.

You turned back over, trying to fix the blankets before Jisung’s voice stopped you.

“What are you doing?” Judging by his tone and volume of his voice, you could tell that you had just woke him up.

You turned to him. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Yes.” Jisung answered before pulling you closer to him, and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Why are you awake?”

“Because, I can’t sleep.” Your voice was slightly whiny in comparison to Jisungs quiet tone.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t sleep at all?” Now there was concern in his voice as he was now fully awake.

“No, I can’t get comfortable.” You tried your best to snuggle against his chest, but couldn’t shake the dull ache in your abdomen. “I’m like in pain.”

“Do you want some medicine? I’ll go get it.” Jisung’s fingers traced along your back as you closed your eyes.

“No, don’t get up. You’re so warm.” You put a hand against his chest as if to hold him still when Jisung never moved.

The two of you laid like that for what felt like a long time; Jisung shifting under the blankets to check what time it was. You were still awake.

“You’re still awake.” Jisung spoke, but you were unsure if it was a question or a statement.

“I’m still uncomfortable.” You winced; no amount of Jisung’s warm embrace could distract you.

“I know something that might help.” Jisung’s fingers traced patterns over your back as he spoke.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. “Ji, that’s going to be so messy.” You could only imagine what a mess all of the bodily fluids would be; nevermind the cleanup.

“Sweetheart, sheets go in the washing machine. I’ll remake the bed while you take a shower. Easy.” Jisung pressed a kiss behind your ear, sending electricity right through you. Damn you, hormones.

“You can make me feel better?” You pouted.

“mhm.” He hummed in response. “Lie on your back for me.”

Jisung gave you space to adjust yourself; hovering over you as you lied on your back. He adjusted the pillows behind your head to make sure you were comfortable.

You lifted your hips slightly as Jisung pulled your underwear off of you, putting them in a safe spot to the side of the bed.

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable; I’ll stop.” Jisung spoke softly to you as he pushed your knees upwards to your chest.

You nodded. “Mhm.” As you braced for Jisungs touch.

Finally, his fingertips were pressing against your clit; moving in slow circles. You could tell he was testing the waters and seeing how you felt.

“Shit. That feels good.” You muttered; any tension you had melting away. “Come closer, I want you closer to me.”

Jisung smirked, doing as you wanted. He changed his position so he was directly over you. “Better?” He asked as a strand of red hair fell in his face.

“Yeah. Better.” You brushed his hair away from his face before kissing him.

Catching you completely off guard, Jisung effortlessly slipped his middle and ring finger inside of your cunt.

Your jaw fell slack as you moaned into his mouth “Oh my fuck, Jisung.”

“Yeah, tell me.” He muttered close to your ear as he was thrusting his fingers into you like his life depended on it. “Tell me how good that feels.”

You let out a choked moan, one of your hands reaching to grab onto your pillow. “So good, Ji. Shit.”

“Good girl, doing so good.” Jisung praised you before slipping another finger into you, making your face contort at the added pressure between your legs.

“Fuck.” You sighed, feeling an orgasm creeping up on you.

“I can tell you’re close.” Jisung spoke mostly to himself as you caught him watching his fingers move in and out of you. “Make a mess out of me; go ahead.”

His words made your stomach tighten, and Jisung let out a moan when he could hear the wet noises coming from your cunt; doing exactly as you were told.

Jisung pushed your shirt up with his free hand, pressing it flat against your stomach.

“Jisung, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.” You pleaded as you put your hand over his.

“Fuck.” Jisung muttered under his breath, relishing in the way that you were begging him to ruin you.

You grabbed onto his wrist, whimpering when he started finger fucking you with vigor this time; your legs practically trembling and threatening to close.

Jisung pulled himself away from you, coming close to you once more to kiss you. “I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

In a fleeting moment, Jisung left you as he stood to remove his clothing. He came back to you, pulling you further down the bed by your hips.

“You’re so pretty.” Jisung spoke as he admired your fucked out expression. “Look at Me.”

He kissed you as soon as you turned to look at him. “How do you feel?” Jisung asked you innocently before you felt his thumb tracing over your right nipple.

You whimpered from the sensitivity of your body already; not giving him a full answer.

“Good?” Jisung dropped his head down, and as you moved underneath him, he caught your nipple in his mouth.

You let out a rather loud whine at the feeling; grabbing a hold of his hair once again as he grunted, sucking and nibbling at the swollen bud.

“Jisung, please!” You pathetically begged him, earning exactly what you wanted.

Jisung finally aligned his cockhead with your core, swiping it along your folds; definitely making a mess now.

Finally he pushed himself inside of you, letting out a sigh of pleasure when he did so.

“Oh my god, you feel so good.” Jisung wasn’t even inside of you all of the way.

You weren’t sure if it was because of your period, or the fact that Jisung already pulled two orgasms out of you, but you were definitely not going to last long.

You gave him so response except a meek whine before he was fucking into you; slow and deep.

“Ji-fuck!” You grabbed onto his bicep with one of your hands before he laced his fingers with yours; tightly holding your hand. “You can’t do that to me.”

“I think I can.” Jisung answered, kissing your jaw a few times before changing his pace.

Eventually he was slamming into you; getting carried away by your moaning and whining.

“Gonna cum in you; make a mess out of you.” Jisung grunted in your ear, making you yelp. “You like that?”

“Please, please.” You couldn’t answer fast enough before you felt him release inside of you; whimpering at how messy you felt.

“Fuck.” Jisung swore, steadying his breathing as he came down from his own high.

He kissed you on the forehead. “Feel better?”

You nodded, eyes feeling heavy. “A lot better…but tired.”

You must have started to doze off, before Jisung stopped you. “No, no, no. Let me clean you up. Don’t fall asleep like this.”

The switch up of him made you chuckle. “Okay, I’ll try not to.”

“Really, let me start a bath, I’ll change the sheets, and then we can get some sleep.”

Sounds like a plan.

[caracalla-dondus]

Suspicious Minds

Pairing: Emperor Geta/wife!reader

Summary: A senator informs Geta about the rumors surrounding his wife

Author's Note: This fic consists of pieces I took out from a much longer fic I had written. After reading what I originally wrote I didn't really vibe with the whole thing and so I took out parts I liked best to create this fic. Idk if it's better or worse because things feel a bit rushed in this fic now and not as cohesive as before but it's good enough I think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I was partly inspired by Fire & Blood where it says that some in court found Queen Rhaenys Targaryen suspicious because she spent time with bards and singers and they were sure she must be having an affair on Aegon I. Also the title is from the Elvis song of the same name because it popped into my head while writing this because it's similar to the plot lol.

~~~

The late afternoon sun streamed through the marble arches of the palace, casting shadows across the floor of the Emperor’s private chamber. Emperor Geta paced restlessly, his jaw clenched tight, his fingers twitching. The rumors had come to him this morning, carried by a senator whose words had been carefully chosen, yet laced with venom.

“She is often seen in the company of poets and bards, my Emperor. Some say perhaps too often.”

The words echoed in Geta’s mind as he strode to the balcony. Below him, others strolled about, oblivious to the storm brewing in his heart. He had always known that his wife had a fondness for the arts. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. The way her eyes lit up when she heard the verses of a poem she thought was interesting, the soft smile that graced her lips during the final notes of a ballad. She was a woman of intelligence and charm. Perfect qualities to be his empress.

But now those very same qualities and interests had become the source of his unrest.

~

Geta finds his wife out in the garden. “I had hoped to speak with you my wife,” he said, his tone polite but firm. 

“What troubles you, my love?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to him.

Geta studied her, his gaze lingering on her face, searching for some sign of guilt. But she looked as she always did, serene, composed, and beautiful. “There are whispers in the court,” he began slowly, “that your affection for music and poetry has extended beyond mere appreciation.”

His wife’s eyes widened, and then she laughed softly, a sound like the chiming of bells. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”

“I don’t want to,” Geta admitted, his voice low. “But the court is not kind to a woman who spends her days surrounded by other men, no matter how innocent her intentions.”

Her smile faded, and she placed a hand on his arm. “Geta, these men are poets, musicians and artists. They speak to me about the soul, not the flesh. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”

He wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. But the thought of her laughter, her attention, her admiration being bestowed on another man gnawed at him. “Then why do others speak of you so?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why do they say you adore Bacchus so much that you have embraced his indulgences?”

His wife stiffened, her hand falling away. “Do you question my virtue?” she asked, insulted that her husband would believe such nonsense about her.

“I question the company you keep!” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended.

She took a step back, her expression conveying her hurt and frustration. “You have always known who I am Geta. I am not a woman content to sit idly in the palace, just simply gossiping my day away. I find joy in the divine chaos of creation. If that makes me suspicious in the eyes of our court then so be it. But I will not apologize for things I did not do.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Geta clenched his fists, his anger warring with his love for her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer. “I do not wish to stifle you. But I cannot bear the thought of others questioning your loyalty or your love for me.”

His wife stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Then let me reassure you, my emperor. I am as sure of my love for you as I am about Sol bringing us the sun each morning. But if you doubt me, then tell me what must I do to prove myself?”

He sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “Let the poets and bards sing their songs without you for once. Let Bacchus have his revelry elsewhere.”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “If it will ease your mind, my dear husband then I will stay.”

Geta pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the whispers that sought to undermine them. But even as he held her, a shadow of doubt lingered, refusing to be banished entirely.

~

The grand halls of the palace echoed with the click of her delicate sandals against the marble floor. The weight of her husband’s arm on her shoulder was both reassuring and suffocating. For the past three days, Geta had not let her out of his sight. Where she went, he followed. Where he could not follow, he sent his guards to watch her every step. It was unlike him, and though his paranoia was silent, she could feel it in the way his fingers tightened around her arm, in the watchful, almost desperate glint in his eyes.

She had tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him of her loyalty, but it seemed no words could pierce through the suspicion that had taken hold of him.

During a feast, Geta watched his wife like a hawk as she entertained a visiting nobleman whose son had written a collection of poems. His wife listened to the man intently, her soft smile never wavering as the man recited a verse.

But Geta saw something else. He saw how the man’s eyes lingered on her, how her laughter seemed to light up the room. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, his jaw tightening. Was it admiration? Was it mere courtesy? Or was there something more? The thoughts churned in his mind like a storm, dark and unrelenting.

When the man left, Geta wasted no time. He rose abruptly, crossing the room to where his wife stood.

“You enjoyed his company,” he said, his voice low but laced with accusation.

His wife blinked, startled by his tone. “He was reciting his son’s poetry, my dear husband. That’s all it was.”

“You smiled at him,” Geta pressed, his eyes narrowing. “You laughed.”

“Am I not allowed to smile and laugh?” she asked softly, though there was a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Must I always wear a sour expression to please you?”

His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling - not with anger, but with something deeper, something more fragile. “Your smiles, your laughter, they belong to me and no one else.”

Her eyes softened as she saw the flicker of insecurity behind his harsh words. She reached up, covering his hand with her own. “And they are yours, Geta,” she murmured. “Only yours.”

His grip loosened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might vanish. “I will not lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I cannot.”

~

For the next several days, Geta’s wife’s world shrank. Where she once wandered the gardens freely, now her husband walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. When she visited the library, he went with her. Her gatherings with poets and musicians were no more, replaced by dinners where Geta sat her beside him, his eyes never leaving her.

She tried to be understanding, but his constant scrutiny weighed heavily on her. One evening, as they sat together in their chambers, she finally spoke.

“Geta,” she began, her voice tentative. “Do you not trust me?”

He looked up from the goblet of wine in his hand, his expression guarded. “Of course I trust you, you are my wife,” he said after a long pause. “It is everyone else I do not trust.”

“You cannot keep watch over me forever,” she said.

His jaw tightened. “You are my wife,” he said firmly. “My empress. And I will not risk anyone else taking you from me.”

“Even if it means suffocating me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geta flinched, as if her words had struck him. He set the goblet down and rose to his feet, pacing the room. “You do not understand,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I have enemies everywhere. We have enemies everywhere. They would use you against me. They would take you from me. Take your love away from me”

“Who could take me when I am yours in both heart and soul?” she asked, rising to stand before him.

He stopped, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking, his carefully constructed armor of intimidation cracking to reveal the fear beneath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But the thought of losing you terrifies me.”

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Geta,” she said softly, “you will not lose me. I love you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me.”

“I promise,” she said, though her heart ached at the desperation in his voice.

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her as if his life depended on it. She sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. She understood that his possessiveness was not born of cruelty, nor out of a need to stifle her but it was of a fear he could not truly voice, a fear he could not truly reconcile with, and it had consumed him.

And so she stayed, tethered to him by her love for him, hoping that soon his insecurities would ease and he would see that she was his, not because he demanded it, but because she chose it. But she was not sure how much she could take of this suffocating behavior. Of every move of hers and every interaction being heavily watched.

~

She rarely let her frustrations boil to the surface, but this time was different. As she sat across from her husband in their private chambers, the weight of the senator’s venomous words and their impact on her marriage gnawed at her patience. For days and days now, Geta’s suffocating possessiveness had taken over every aspect of her life, and she could no longer bear the thought that this rift between them had been instigated by a man seeking to undermine her, a man seeking to replace her.

She set down her goblet with a sharp clink, her hands trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained annoyance and anger. “I’ve been thinking, my dear husband,” she began, her voice calm but carrying an obvious edge to it.

Geta glanced up from his seat, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. “What is it?”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with uncharacteristic determination. “The senator who came to you with these baseless rumors. I believe he must be punished.”

Geta blinked, clearly surprised. “Punished? For what?”

“For daring to speak against me,” she replied, her voice firm, slightly exasperated that he did not already know what she spoke of. “For poisoning your mind with lies and causing this… this chaos between us. He sought to undermine your confidence in me, to cast doubt on my loyalty, to possibly destroy my reputation. That is not something we should let go unanswered.”

Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. “You surprise me, wife. I thought you were above petty revenge. You have always counseled me against such rash decisions before”

“This is not petty, nor is it rash!” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “He sought to disgrace me, your wife, your empress. By doing so, he has disgraced you as well. How can you tolerate such audacity?”

Her words struck a nerve. Geta’s insecurities flared, his mind racing as he considered her argument. She was right. The senator’s insinuations had not only called his wife’s loyalty into question but had also implied that Geta was a weak ruler, unable to control his own household. The thought made his blood boil.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice low.

“Demote him. Remove him from his position. Let it be known that you will not tolerate slander against your Empress.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. “And if others see this as an act of weakness? A sign that I am blinded by my love for you?”

“Let them see it as a warning,” she countered. “Let them know that your loyalty to your wife is unwavering and that you will not allow anyone to sow baseless discord in your court.”

Her words appealed to Geta’s pride, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. After a long silence, he nodded slowly. “Very well. The senator will be dealt with. I’ll ensure his removal will be public and soon.”

Relief washed over her, though a part of her felt dissatisfied about simply just having the senator removed from his position. The senator had meddled in her marriage, made her husband watch every move she made for days now, and he deserved to face more severe consequences for it. The senator has a daughter around her age, she felt certain the senator was likely hoping to get her pushed aside to potentially make way for his daughter to get close to Geta, for her to be the next Empress of Rome. Geta’s wife seethed silently at the thought of someone replacing her, of someone attempting to steal her position. She thought about paying Caracalla a visit and informing him of the treacherous senator in their midst. He would certainly give her the dramatic reaction she wants.

Geta rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand before her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You are right. I should never have allowed his words to poison my mind. You are my empress, my wife. No one will come between us again”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch and calming for a moment. “And I will always stand by your side Geta. But we must stand together, against anyone who seeks to divide us.”

Geta kissed her then, fierce and possessive, as if to reaffirm their bond. She let herself melt into the embrace, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she should push for more to be done about the senator. 

~~~~

reader can't take out her frustrations on Geta so she will take it out on the senator who started all of this instead lol

[maryellencarter]

There's this little cottage industry of far-right Christian films that are mostly direct to video -- commonly cheap animation for kids, like VeggieTales (one of the least right-wing of the bunch, which probably contributed to its wider popularity), but there's a subset that are live action for adult audiences.

That subset are pretty much always made by frustrated auteurs who would have flunked out of film school if they hadn't been prevented from going by fears of the woke left, and they're... bad. Very bad. Heavy-handed message writing, incomprehensibly artsy cutting and pacing, absolutely no humor to distract from the self-importance -- and occasionally one manages to wrangle a limited theater release, and people of the correct religio-political stripe parrot the advertising about how *this* one will Reach The Unchurched (okay, we were Catholic, we didn't actually say "unchurched", but the attitude was exactly that) and drag their large bundles of kids to sit through the show in a form of activism that's supposed to Show Support and win the film a legitimate wide release.

(I have no idea if you can actually get an art film to wide release by having enough ticket sales. Obviously none of these would have gotten there even if that's how it works. I am... dubious though.)

Anyway! Point is! There was this Catholic-specific one, a life of St Thérèse of Lisieux, and it turned out that its particular auteur was a frustrated *horror* director. It would have been fairly meh direct-to-video horror in a tame way -- ominous, creepy, vignette lighting on the flashbacks. Thérèse was a sickly child and the only interesting thing to do with her childhood is lean on the fever hallucinations. (Even written lives of St Thérèse go heavy on the fever hallucinations.) Which would have been just another crappy movie to sit through and I wouldn't remember it so vividly, but then at the end when she's dying of the tuberculosis -- you're supposed to go a bit inspiration-porn, right? The audience knows she's going to heaven, get some nobility of suffering in there, get the swelling string instruments, a couple of dainty coughs and let her "pass away in the odor of sanctity".

(Look, I didn't make up the phrase. She's legitimately supposed to have been surrounded by the miraculous and unexplained smell of roses when she died. It's a saint thing.)

Noooooope. Time for a graphic scene of coughing herself to death as her lungs fill with blood, like a *real* tuberculosis patient. No string instruments, just uncomfortably extended suffering for suffering's sake.

So the reason it stands out as the worst movie I've ever seen is that it actually changed my stance on assisted suicide. Previously, I was opposed to it in all circumstances, like a good little Catholic. But -- we know she's going to heaven, *God* knows she's going to heaven, her soul doesn't need further purification from getting the absolute last dribs and drabs of suffering available, just let her fucking die already!

Which is not at all what the movie actually wanted people to come away thinking. So it was the worst movie I've seen in the sense of the most abject failure to do anything it was aiming to do.

(A movie that did religious torture-porn on purpose and did it extremely well was "The Passion of the Christ", the movie associated with Mel Gibson in some way I don't remember now. When you actually have professionals, funding, and skilled editors working on a religious piece, it can be well made. Would I call it "good"? You'd need a clear definition of good. I wouldn't call it a movie most people should *watch*. But by god, it did what it was trying to do.)

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

[suzukiblu]

hi, question for you, have you ever experienced prolonged writer’s block before? do you happen to have any advice for getting a writing flow going again, that you’d be willing to share?

bc i don’t want to get too heavy in your asks, but between chronic illness/fatigue and longterm autistic burnout i haven’t been able to write a single word in several years now, and GOD am i tired of it. it’s like all the stories and words are stuck inside me and i can see it all in my head but the faucet is jammed and i just can’t get it OUT! i have been slowly feeling like the creative embers are maybe starting to spark again but it’s so hard not to get impatient with myself because it never seems to actually transfer to paper (or word document or notes app). any ideas or tips?

no pressure to answer this if you don’t want to of course, regardless i really enjoy your writing and i’m so glad that i can at least engage with fandom through other authors even when i can’t write my own stories! 💛

Oh god, yeah, I DEFINITELY have experienced that, hahasob. I have gone through at LEAST a year or two without, like, putting down a single word or even drawing anything, just total creative block/not there-ness. Like I feel u on that one, bud.

Good news: now if I write less than 2k in a day I think "oh that's kinda low, huh", so like . . . definitely "didn't write jack shit for [ INSERT TIME PERIOD HERE ]" has yet to sink me, and therefore fuck if it's gonna sink ANY of us. We persevere!!

So like, in my experience actually helpful writing advice is just SO wildly "you just gotta try shit 'til something works"-based that I'mma just give you a list made up of a bunch of, like, assorted tips and tricks that I use on myself to make my brain put words down when it's being stubborn about it, though different ones work at different times and obvi YMMV here anyway because for obvious reasons these are all approaches that I have tailored to my own needs, hah, and some of them are a bit facetious and some are also a bit heavy, but absolutely and unironically I reguarly use them all and they have all repeatedly worked for me.

Also, they're all gonna be goin' behind a cut because WOW there's actually a lot more of them than I realized I had, hahaha. The psychiatrist who recently used me as a case study told me I was very self-aware, so take from that what you will, friend.

Get up and do a chore/take a shower/eat a snack/literally just walk through a friggin' doorway, more often than not it'll at least make your brain reorient enough for you to realize you were just beating your head against a wall and need to do [ INSERT DAMAGE CONTROL/HARM REDUCTION BEHAVIOR HERE ].

Track your progress. Write to-do lists and cross shit off 'em. Keep track of your word count when you write; put it in a spreadsheet or a notebook or on a graph on your bulletin board.

Get a NEW way to track your progress. I currently use, like, three different "to-do list" apps to varying degrees in varying ways, not counting just my basic calendar app ( for the record: Finch, Structured, and just a generic notes app, but mostly Finch and Structured and seriously I CANNOT recommend Finch enough, go get yourself a bird buddy immediately. do you want a friend code, I will GIVE you a friend code, I think it gives you a bonus mini-pet or something if you use it. ), and also set myself MANY a phone alarm to remind myself of things that I need to do in case I space out or get distracted by somebody/something/the specific phase of the moon.

Did you take your meds? Take your fucking MEDS, self, good LORD.

Leave the house even if for literally, like, thirty seconds to just stand in some actual natural light. Or leave the house to go eat at a cafe or library or fast food place and just put yourself in a new environment for literally any length of time whatsoever.

Switch pens. Switch notebooks. Get a NEW notebook. Use your laptop instead. Use your PHONE instead. Get a nicer notebook. Get a shittier notebook. Use the scratch paper at work. Use the Procreate app on your friggin' iPad if you gotta, whatever, you do what you want!!

Don't write!!

Seriously just don't, go watch an actual scripted TV show or movie or read a book or a comic or some fic. Feed your brain something you didn't have to make up yourself.

Come up with a convoluted way to trick yourself into being accountable to someone else. Join a writing group. Make a Tumblr post about how you're gonna go write now. Ask Tumblr for their opinion on what you should write now. Ask Tumblr to spin this random wheel spinner game you generated and tell you what answer they got, and then write THAT.

HAVE you had a snack? Did you eat breakfast? Did you eat lunch? Did you remember to move around the house at any point whatsoever during the day? Maybe like, do that. Like, at least the snack part. Maybe a stretch or something wouldn't hurt either though.

Meal prep is so fucking useful and saves you SO much annoying time and also, like, makes you eat actual veggies and fruit and shit, genuinely actually works, the gym bros were not wrong, go figure. Also then you don't have to think about what you're gonna eat all the time and then cook it and then clean up and then--yeah anyway meal prep, god bless it. Once a week I make a batch of pasta salad and roast a pan of good-when-roasted veggies with like, garlic and salt and pepper and some olive oil and add bacon after, and then I portion it all into tupperware and in the morning I add spinach or crack an egg into that day's share of veggies for breakfast and maybe make some toast, and just grab one of the pasta salads whenever I want something lunch-like. It saves SO much time and distraction when you are hurting for free time/focus. So, SO much.

Unfortunately the gym bros were also correct about exercise, if that's doable for you. Exercise does in fact make you feel better and more energized and less depressed, fuck those guys for being right about that shit. Assuming you have enough iron in your blood to actually, like, do it, which admittedly I frequently do not, but the point stands.

Dude why are you even trying to write, you're so tired, go to bed and get up early, you write SO much better in the mornings anyway.

Hey, I know that's how you USED to write, but like, is that actually how you write right now? Is that actually even what works for you anymore? Actually maybe outlines COULD be helpful or maybe you don't need all those worldbuilding notes all at once; maybe your inner architect needs to let the building decay and go back to nature or maybe your inner gardener has developed a taste for trellises, metaphorically speaking and all.

Please eat something. Also please DRINK something. Like ideally water but we'll go for anything that involves a liquid, seriously.

Hey did you know actually if you ONLY eat instant ramen and microwave pizza you'll probably get scurvy and die instead of, like, writing your magnum opus? Like probably?? Put a fucking egg in that ramen, man! Slice up a scallion in that bitch!! EAT AN ACTUAL WHOLE FRUIT or at least, like, buy a smoothie with actual fruit involved somewhere in it on occasional. The whole fruit, unfortunately, is better. I like apples. Apples take a REAL long time to rot if I forget they exist for a couple weeks or whatever. But like, mango smoothies are also the shit, can't turn down a mango smoothie or a good strawberry-banana. Hey did you know the grocery store just, like, will let you just buy one single apple and they don't give a fuck? You're free! The cashier won't remember you in five minutes!! Buy your one single apple and work your way up to maybe two apples next time!! Also now I want an apple!!!!

Don't write. Don't write THAT. Write the other thing. No, the OTHER other thing. No, not THAT other other thing.

The rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Fuck it, we ball.

[ INSERT FULL-THROTTLE STIMMING BEHAVIOR HERE ]

Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic.

God, that's the weirdest fucking idea you've ever had, literally NO ONE but you would read it. So you should write 180k of it and also make it even weirder and yes it will absolutely be the one fic that just about everyone in MCU fandom who knows you exist knows you for, don't even worry about it, this isn't based on a true story at all.

Actually you could probably storyboard this scene to figure out wtf is happening here. Or like just draw literally anything related to this story, a bit of that might work some kinks out of the whole process.

Did you get that snack yet?

Hey go pet your dog, she's very soft and wants attention and also her OWN snack. Pet your dog and eat an apple and idk watch some anime or a weird niche documentary or an even more niche reality show, have you seen Deep-Fried Dynasty yet, it's on Hulu and was surprisingly engrossing.

Why are you even following the rules, we've been over this, they are made up and the points do NOT matter, and also you're not even getting graded for this anyway.

Yeah okay that thing you wrote sucked, but it turns out that Dean Koontz somehow has a writing career and also Twilight happened to all of us, so actually even the suckiest thing you ever write is gonna be better than the perfect ideal of the scene in your head, because the suckiest thing you ever write is something OTHER people can READ. And again: Dean Koontz has a career. Colleen HOOVER has a career. And fucking good for them, they're killing it, they are fucking WRITING!! Who gives a damn anyway, fix it in editing if you're that worried about it, they call it a rough draft for a reason.

Hey if that thing doesn't work you can just, like, delete it. Or rewrite it. Or stick it in your back pocket and do something else for a while. The sunk-cost fallacy is bullshit and you don't have to listen to it.

Maybe drink some more caffeine, that'll calm you down. [ DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE OF ADVICE TAILORED TO A PERSON WITH MORE ADHD THAN LITERALLY NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD; THAT PERCENTAGE IS ON THE ACTUAL LEGITIMATE DIAGNOSTIC PAPERWORK ]

Seriously you can just write anything you want, nobody can stop you. Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic enough that that's like, thirty-seventy odds at BEST.

God that idea is so niche and weird and niche, better tone it the fuck down to--oh wait no mass appeal means you're writing popcorn and literally no one will remember it in five minutes anyway, stop reflexively censoring yourself for some imaginary audience that will just chew straight through your one-size-fits-all story for The Content(tm) and then immediately move onto the next one without even bothering to hit "kudos" or remember anything about it later. I have written shit so weird that people still remember how weird I was TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, man, and that is why literally anyone will EVER remember that you exist or wanna read your stuff or follow you to a new fandom where they don't even know the source material, fuck it, they'll wiki some shit. And also who cares anyway, it's YOUR stuff and YOU wanna read it. Your agnostically-possible god did not make you this weird and niche for no reason, don't pussy out now!!

Actually you can just write in the bath/on the bus/while waiting for your roommate to finish up with the guy running this estate sale. You've got your phone, right? Fuck it, pack a notebook. Pack an extra notebook. Pack a smaller notebook. Pack a BIGGER notebook.

It's not stupid if it works. You don't have to do what literally ANYONE else is doing, you just have to do what works.

You can literally just skip to the good part and write that, actually. Nobody's gonna throw you in writer-jail. What are we, cops?? Actually do you even need this lead-up here or do you just need to write this one specific blorbo gettin' laid REAL enthusiastically kinkily and/or maybe having a nervous breakdown sobfest over their perception of their personal self-worth and everything else is kinda just window dressing??

I mentioned the snack thing, right? Also sugar rushes are fake but sugar CRASHES are real so maybe be a little careful on that one, maybe buy some trail mix/jerky/smoked salmon, smoked salmon is SO good, smoked salmon is just objectively delicious.

Go talk somebody's ear off about what you're trying to write about. Bonus points if you can find somebody who matches your freak enough that you write, uhhhhh /checks smudged writing on wrist/ a 60k Overwatch fic in two weeks and also like 280k of Witcher fic in less than a year specifically because they're just a real good cheerleader. Wow. Wow that was a lot more Witcher fic than I was aware I had written. THE POINT IS LOOK FOR A WRITING BUDDY, WRITING BUDDIES ARE THE SHIT.

If the writing buddy doesn't work out though the first time I won NaNoWriMo I did it directly out of spite because someone said they didn't think I actually would. So like, spite is always an option, you can always keep that one on tap if you gotta.

Stephen King did not write "On Writing" because he didn't want you to write. Francesca Lia Block did not introduce you to the weirdest and gayest shit teenage!you had ever read so you'd grow up and be a fucking NORMIE about this shit. SIR TERRY PRATCHETT DID NOT WRITE LIKE SIXTEEN OF YOUR FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT YOU TO WRITE WHAT YOU WERE ACTUALLY FRICKIN' INTO.

Clean your room. No, better than that. Okay fuck it just set a ten-minute timer and do what you can in that time, we work with the spoons we've got.

Random number generator. Random color generator. Random "hey followers here's a very oblique poll, don't even worry about what it's about, just click a button please and thank you".

Did you know the internet will just GIVE you free graphs/trackers/bullet journal page designs and you can just print 'em out and do whatever the heck you want with 'em?? Yes my new little "color in the squares every day you do the thing" tracker IS just six daily writing tasks and two daily "just go pick some stuff up in this specific room" tasks and that is MY BUSINESS, MS. SIR AND MR. MADAM AND MX. [ INSERT BUZZER SOUND ]. And also, like, has done much better at getting me to do chores than anything else has in a minute, go fig.

You can actually just do whatever you want forever.

Literally, like just forever.

Fuck, how many times HAVE you done this? You'll never get better for good, it'll always go bad again, you'll always get sick again, you'll always get SAD again, you'll always fucking forget how to even DO this again and have to start all over.

Well yes, obviously, because you'll always have done it again. So do it again. One more time.

( seriously though did you take your meds-- )

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[olderthannetfic]

As someone who wants to write their first long romance fic, I looked up “romancing the beat” and… is that it?? Is that really how people write romances? Is that fine? I just write 2-3k for each of the 20 or so steps, and sprinkle in some jokes and some smut and at the end of the “giving up” stage some angst too and it’s done?? I am shook.

I read more fanfic romance than published romance and I was dimly aware that romance is pretty formulaic (especially published stuff) but I didn’t know the formula was so… detailed? Fill-in-the-blanks shaped even?

I've written all those things before (smut fluff and angest) although only in oneshots, so that skill is not new to me. But do I really just put Blorbo and Blorbecita in this 20-step formula and get a long fic out of it? That people will read? It can’t be that simple, can it?

(Please don’t tell me romancing the beat is satire. I'll die of embarrassment if it turns out to be satire. Please don’t be satire)

--

I find most of those plot structure books laughable though not satire.

I haven't read Romancing the Beat in years, but I remember it being more or less sound. The issue is that all books in this genre are taking something that good writers understand instinctively and making it a canned formula for those who don't.

This is an excellent way to structure your revisions when you have a draft but something isn't quite working. It's often a good way to analyze someone else's story that you already like and think works. It's a much less good way to write in the first place.

It might work for you, but trying to figure out which bit of your proposed plotline goes in this or that formal category in three act structure or Romancing the Beat's structure or whatever is often difficult and pointless.

How To Structure Your Novel and/or How to Actually Finish A Draft are very popular and lucrative genres of nonfiction writing. Tons of people want to write long things but keep failing to. They will spend plenty of money on products that purport to be the magic bullet that will get them there. That doesn't make the book bad, but just... you know... keep that context in mind.

In my experience, all of the books of this type sound decent and can probably help you grind through a long thing with somewhat less likelihood of giving up, but I usually look at my outline that I instinctively know works and at the canned formula I'm supposed to awkwardly shoehorn my outline into and decide it's more trouble than it's worth.

And no, I don't think that youtube video on the four types of writers is accurate either. These formal structures don't suck because I'm the instinctive type instead of whatever the other one was. They suck because they're simplistic lenses applied after the fact rather than a truly accurate description of why plots in fun books work. To make the structure, they've had to flatten and ignore on the same level as Joseph "the sexist, racist hack" Campbell's hero's journey does.

[normalaboutmediaa]

Hm. Saw a tag about Severance and the oppression of youth and children and like. Oh yeah how the fuck didn't I see that.

The Innies are essentially children in a lot of ways, but the parallels to how they're treated on the severed floor to how real children are often treated in society is. Kinda crazy.

You wake up one day a fully formed thing- you have thoughts, feelings, emotions, and an entire body with which to feel and experience all that. You do not know where you are or why you have been brought here, but you are surrounded by people suddenly telling you what to do, where to go, and how to act. There are several rules - some spoken, some unspoken, and the breaking of these rules results in punishment and shame. You cannot choose what you wear, where you go, or what you do. You are placed in front of an activity and told to do it, but any questions as to 'why' are often ignored or placated with meaningless answers.

When the Break Room was first introduced, it was extremely reminiscent to me of the practice of making children write lines. If you're unfamiliar, a common disciplinary tactic is to have a child write something like 'i will not interrupt the teacher' over and over again, often until the teacher feels that the lesson has gotten through their head satisfactorily. The idea is that repeated exposure to the idea of 'correct' behavior will instill the lesson in the child's mind, along with the task being tedious and boring enough that most kids won't re-offend just to avoid having to write the lines again.

So, we've got rewards systems, punishments, and a general sense of being below the authority figures in the situation and having no power. And then there's Miss Huang. A literal, actual child who is placed in a position of authority. Obviously there's a more literal parallel to be drawn there about child labor and exploitation, but I think there's something to be said about the way we teach children to police each other's behavior as well. She's a hall monitor, essentially, she's been given power over people who are actually technically younger than her and seems to see the job as an honor or at least a promotion from her last one.

Importantly, I don't think the show is TRYING to comment on how we treat children in our society. I don't think that's a primary theme that was on the creators mind, but it's there nonetheless. While very few would ever admit it or think of it in this exact way, the sentiment of 'I am a person, you are not' rings true to how a lot of parents and adults in general view children as less than human or being only 'half' a person, and hold them to impossibly high standards for good behavior as a result. The way the Outies see the Innies as just extensions of themselves that they can force to do or become whatever they want is very toxic parent-child relationship coded.

Anyway- kids are full people and you should treat them nicely. They aren't just here to fulfill your dreams and follow your rules.

[utilitycaster]

Imo (as someone who didn't watch the finale, so I'm happy to be wrong), one of the bigger problems with the ending that isn't being discussed is that religions don't work like that. I'm not talking about cosmology or divinity, which people have already spoken on plenty, but the people who actually believe the beliefs.

There are people who believe their god was in some way mortal (Buddhists, some Christians), but they still practice the belief. I'm Jewish, and if it was definitively proven that God isn't real, I would still be a practicing Jew. The gods of Exandria becoming mortal would definitely cause schisms and theological debates, but the gods as concepts would continue to hold power regardless of their mortality or continued existence. Vasselheim would change, but it wouldn't be rocked to its knees.

Obviously, the cast has their own biases and thoughts on religion. That's understandable, but in a campaign and world that is increasingly about How Religion Amd Gods Shape Things, why is religion treated only as a plot point and not a dynamic of understanding the world, yaknow?

This is a hard question to answer since I think to truly give a good answer I'd need a thesis statement and several weeks of writing, but in short, as myself a practicing Jew and philosophically somewhere between weak and apathetic agnosticism I agree that Exandria as a setting did a good job of exploring individual faith/devotion to divinity, and a very bad job of exploring the concept of religion on an anthropological level.

I do think the fact that most of the people with whom I can have a conversation about this are either fellow non-Christians existing in a Christian dominated society; left-leaning Catholics from a rigorous intellectual tradition in the Protestant-dominated US; or people who left a more conservative Christian sect for a more progressive one and in doing so interrogated the nature of religion and faith is telling. I think if you were raised strictly Christian and either swore off religion entirely (the ex-Evangelicals who never unlearned lack of empathy/self-centeredness and simply applied it in a different direction) or were raised Christian but not particularly religious and live in a culturally Christian society in which that is the norm and thus you never had to see yourself as a person with an identity and a practice outside said norm, you are far more likely fail to adequately notice this as a problem with Exandrian worldbuilding.

Something that struck me as I thought about this (on my solo walks to and from synagogue today, no less) is that I am someone who for various reasons, academic, religious, and otherwise, has spent a lot of time thinking about the role of ritual in daily life. And the thing is, "ritual" has in many cases been coopted into a thing you do very much for yourself, often with a capitalist slant - self-care as consumption as ritual. (If you look up companies named Ritual, it's zero proof spirits and vitamins/supplements and takeout). It is individualist and is intended to soothe one's self.

Ritual is far more than that. Ritual is a sign of community. It is a means of remembrance. It is a reminder to look outside of yourself. We light candles on Friday night not for ourselves - indeed, we are prohibited from using them as a light source - but to welcome someone of something else. We blow the shofar to wake ourselves and our community up to what we can can change and do better.

Jester and Caduceus are in my opinion the strongest practitioners of ritual across campaigns, but both are from very small groups of practitioners. We meet many clerics and adherents, but their stories or their experiences with religion as part of daily life are largely untold.

And this is just about ritual, which is in many cases neutral or even positive, but as discussed there is no real hegemony - Vasselheim holds respect and serves as a vault for divine secrets, but outside of that has little political sway. Caduceus and Fjord do not answer to Hierophant Ophera. We also see very little of those theological questions or debates - one must imagine they occur, but it, like the world of ritual or religious service, feels oddly empty. There are temples, and there are keepers of those temples, but the temples always feel like they pop into existence for the PCs and vanish when they're not present. I remember during Campaign 2 there was a great discussion of how D&D offers a concept of religion without the need for faith in the unseen - the gods exist definitively - and it just feels like that's never been reflected meaningfully in the world of Exandria, and that wasn't really a problem with Campaigns 1 or 2 and it very much was with the concepts C3 attempted to tackle.

[malevoreenthusiast]

Freddie's Feat pt. 2

Hey all! Here it is--the second installment of Freddie's Feat. I hope you enjoy, as I certainly enjoyed writing this! As always, please feel free to flood my inbox and dms with anything your heart desires. I love hearing feedback and am always open to new ideas. Enjoy!

In case you missed it, here is part 1^

“Dude,” Will gaped, “what the fuck happened?”

Freddie’s belly was actively wobbling about. He couldn’t feasibly deny what had happened, especially because Brayden’s discarded clothes were in one hand while his other was methodically rubbing the swell of his bulging belly. Freddie felt somewhat ashamed, but only because he had gotten caught. These were his friends, so surely if he explained what had happened, they would be understanding, right? The college sophomore dared a look at Alex, whose jaw was on the floor. Fred’s belly let out a low, cacophonous groan between the remaining three friends. They stared in awe.

“Well,” Freddie explained, trying to form a rational story that his friends would accept, “Brayden and I…wanted to see how much I could fit…in here?” Even to Freddie, the story sounded false. The truth—that Brayden forced himself down Freddie’s gullet—was even more absurd, and neither Will nor Alex would’ve believed him. Freddie continued, “Do you—BBBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP—mind if we go to the living room? I think I need to sit down.”

In a deafening silence, Freddie led the way towards Alex’s living room, never taking a hand off of his belly. Brayden, of all times, had chosen to stop speaking, letting Freddie deal with the consequences of his actions alone. Still, he could feel jerky movements inside of his stomach chamber. Presumably, Brayden was pleasuring himself to the feeling of being in Freddie’s gut, which was just perfect, as now Freddie had to deal with the fallout alone. Plopping in the center of the plush couch, Fred had to spread his legs far apart to make room for his belly. Alex and Will sat on either side of him, waiting for Freddie to explain himself further.

“Look, guys…” he started, unsure how to talk about the massive belly in the room, “Brayden kept on asking about my stomach: how much I could fit, if he tasted good, how good it felt swallowi—”

“Dude!” Will snipped, just below a yell. “You ate Brayden!”

“How did you even…” Alex trailed off, starting to move his hand onto Freddie’s bloated abdomen before Will slapped his hand away and shook his head like a disappointed parent.

Freddie prodded his Brayden-filled belly like it was a bomb about to explode, “Yeah… but look, he wanted it, too.” A massive gurgle escaped from Freddie’s gut.

“How can you say that?” Will spat, incredulous.

“Brayden was jacked, and I’m not small,” Freddie’s ego got in the way here, “I mean, I could probably take him in a fight, if I got in close and—”

“Dude!” Will yelled at his gluttonous friend.

“Right, sorry, not the point. Brayden was much bigger than me in height and muscle, Will. Do you really think I would’ve been able to—UUUURRRRRPPPPP—’scuse me. Do you think I would’ve been able to do this if he didn’t want it?”

Freddie’s belly growled, telling Freddie that his belly could handle even more. Alex looked awestruck, while Will was a mixture of disbelief and personally affronted. Freddie tried another method, as he wasn’t really getting anywhere with just explaining it with words. Wrapping his muscled arms around both of his friends’ shoulders, he brought them in close. The heat radiating from Freddie’s gut was alarming, yet it felt really comforting to all three guys, whether they liked to admit it or not. The air had turned colder because of Freddie’s insatiable stomach, but here, it seemed like the very thing that would warm all of them up.

“Here, feel him in there,” Freddie grabbed his friends’ hands in his and moved to place them on his belly. Will jerked away, standing up off the couch, but Alex let it happen.

“I’m not going to give you a belly rub after you ate Brayden,” Will spat out the last two words with vitriol.

Fred scoffed, feeling a little awkward. He did understand Will’s perspective, but also, couldn’t he just listen to reason? On the other hand, Alex started rubbing Freddie’s belly, leaning in to his big-bellied friend and intently fixated on Freddie’s stomach. Freddie looked down at Alex and hummed, rubbing his back in an intimate gesture between long-time friends. If Will wasn’t in his corner, he was glad he had Alex at least. Alex continued rubbing and doting on Fred’s gut, massaging it gently and listening to the loud noises it produced every few seconds. With each gurgle and churn, Alex snuggled up a little closer to Freddie, getting a better angle to rub his belly. Smitten with Alex, Freddie didn’t notice Will left the room and returned with a bedsheet and a determined look. Will cleared his throat, wrenching Freddie from sweetly rubbing Alex’s back and head whilst he massaged the behemoth of a belly beneath him.

“Right, you two are insane, but I’m not. We’re gonna fix this, okay?” Will knelt down before Freddie, getting eye level with his navel. “Hear that, Bray? We’re gonna get you out of there!” Will placed his flat palm on Fred’s belly, sending shivers of pleasure through the voracious college student.

“What are you doing…?” Freddie asked, feeling somewhat uncertain about Will’s approach to “getting Brayden out of there.”

“Well,” Will sounded annoyed, “you know he can’t stay in there.” Will glanced down at the wobbling mass attached to his best friend. “So, we’re gonna get him out, right Alex?”

Alex squeaked and nodded, standing up to show that he ultimately knew that Freddie was in the wrong, despite not being able to pry his gaze away from his gut.

“You’ll let us do this, right, Fred? You agree that Brayden needs to get let out, right?”

This felt like gentle parenting. Of course Freddie knew that Brayden shouldn’t stay in his belly…but, it felt really nice to have his muscular body massaging him from the inside. Hesitating for a moment, Freddie gave in, “Yes, Will. You’re… right. Okay.” His response sounded far too robotic to be convincing, and he himself wasn’t convinced about letting Brayden go. His belly, for the first time in so long, felt full and satiated. Why couldn’t he enjoy this for just a little while longer? Freddie, saddened by their soon-to-be separation, rubbed his belly fondly and patted his stomach where he thought Brayden’s head would be. Then, the thought hit him, “Wait, how are we going to get him out?”

Will answered, matter of factly, “Easy, the same way he went in.” Will stripped his shirt, revealing his own chiseled torso. While not as toned and jacked as Brayden, Will had been hitting the gym alongside Freddie, and he managed to build up a nice amount of bulk over the years. Why exactly he needed to take his shirt off, Freddie was unsure, but he explained his plan. He took a deep breath, as if to say “why am I friends with these lunatics,” but he spoke with a cool head, “Alright, we’re gonna tie this bed sheet around my waist and Alex will hold on to it for dear life. Freddie, do I have your word you won’t…do the same thing to me that you did to Brayden?”

Freddie was unfailingly loyal, and he would never betray a friend. In essence, that was how he swallowed Brayden in the first place—he was just fulfilling Brayden’s wishes to be in his belly. To that end, he responded, “You do.”

Will still knew Freddie like the back of his hand, so he truly wasn’t worried about Freddie’s gluttony getting in the way. Plus, with his promise, Will’s determination was cemented into fruition. “Good, what we’re gonna do is have Freddie…take me in…then I’m gonna hold on tight to Brayden. You two will pull the both of us out together, understand?”

The two nodded in unison, giving way to their group-leader. Freddie’s stomach growled, which he silently cursed for being excited to have Will down his throat. Now that he knew he could swallow someone as big as Brayden, he wanted to test the waters more. Still, he made a promise, and he intended to keep it. The nagging thought plagued him, however: what about what Brayden wanted? The reality, something Will and seemingly Alex refused to believe, was that Brayden wanted to be swallowed up by Freddie. Regardless, the plan was almost in motion. Like a high-stakes bank heist, Freddie and Will and Alex all steeled themselves for what was to come.

“I can’t believe you, man. How did you even…” Will sighed and shook his head before tying the final knot around his waist. He awkwardly approached Freddie, unsure of how to begin this strangely erotic process. He participated earlier in the banter about Freddie’s belly, but he never imagined it would get this…peculiar. Turning back to Alex, the two exchanged a look, regarding each other about their ravenous friend and the trouble he’s caused. Alex’s knuckles whitened around the bed sheet, and Freddie started feeling guilty only because of the gravity Will was treating this situation with. With a stern look, Will demanded of his big-bellied friend, “Don’t swallow. Let me do the moving, okay? I swear, Freddie, if you gulp me down like Brayden,” he dared a look at Freddie’s wobbling gut, “...just, don’t.”

Freddie nodded profusely, obeying without hesitation. Despite that, his belly growled. “Do I open wide, or…”

“Don’t make it weird, bro.”

Freddie didn’t know how to make this situation any less odd, but he opened his maw once again that night, ready to take Will into his stomach. Will jumped up and down a few times and shook himself out, as if he was preparing for a sporting event. Freddie just sat there, wrapping his hands around the obscene dome of his gut. After several long, tense moments, Will approached Freddie, eyes narrowed. Freddie tried to relax, spreading his legs out and resting his arms on the back of the couch. He figured having his arms away from Will would make it harder for him to want to take control and start pushing Will deeper down his velvety gullet. However, in Will’s perspective, he only saw Freddie getting ready for another taste of friend. He shook it off. This was Freddie—one of his best friends—and Freddie would never break a promise.

Will leaned down and put a finger in Freddie’s open, awaiting, and salivating mouth. The group leader shuddered like a withering plant. The hot, slimy texture from his friend’s tongue wrapped around his finger like a snake enveloping its prey. Fred stared deep into Will’s hazel eyes, waiting in anxious anticipation for another taste of his friend. His leg started bouncing in an attempt to stop himself from swallowing more of his friend down his throat. Every impulse in Freddie’s body was screaming for him to add Will to the bulge in his belly—to reunite him and Brayden. But, he resisted. He made a promise, and he was going to keep it.

After what felt like years, Will pushed his other hand into Fred’s mouth and began to dive deeper into the hot, wet confines of Freddie’s throat. It smelled rancid: a half digested mixture of the sushi Freddie devoured earlier and Brayden’s cologne burned the nostrils like a chemical accident. Freddie eagerly accepted Will’s arms down his throat, feeling the familliar bulge in his diaphragm that Brayden made in his similar descent. With an iron will, Freddie didn’t swallow, almost choking himself just to appease Will’s request. His friend was clearly uncomfortable as his head and shoulders slid into Fred’s unhinged gullet, but he was doing this for Brayden. Freddie looked down at Alex, who was still eyeing his gut with a trance-like stare. Alex was so encapsulated by watching Freddie open up wide enough for Will to fit inside that he began to lose his grip on the bed sheet that tethered the group leader to the outside world. Then, an unfortunate series of events took place.

Freddie moaned, trying to get Alex’s attention. He pointed to the bedsheet loose in Alex’s hands, but in doing so, Freddie’s moan turned into a cough, then a gag, then a deep, guttural, slow swallow. The two boys heard Will yelling from inside. Freddie had done the one thing Will had asked him not to. Freddie could feel Will’s head and arms enter his stomach chamber with a wet, slimy squelch. Freddie bucked his hips, fraught with desperation to fit the rest of his friend down his gullet. Rivers of drool pooled out of Fred’s mouth, lubricating his friend and dropping onto the couch with loud, rhythmic plopping noises. To try and quell his urges, Freddie thrummed his belly roughly, hoping that Brayden alone would satiate his desires. Unfortunately, his friend seemed to have other plans that would make that difficult.

Deep breaths through the nose eventually let Freddie calm down and excruciatingly, painfully, finally let him resist the overbearing urge to belly the rest of Will. Nodding his head at Alex, Freddie patted his monstrous gut, telling Will and Brayden that it was okay to come up. They waited for a moment, then two, then for about thirty seconds, nothing happened. Freddie’s two friends inside his digestive tract seemed to be arguing about something. Faint, muffled voices could be heard that carried the tone of urgency and intensity. Then, all of a sudden, Will was yanked deeper into Freddie’s throat. Eyes wide, Freddie looked at Alex bewildered. Freddie didn’t swallow, and Will certainly didn’t want to go any deeper into his friend’s belly, so what was going on? Another yank pulled Will’s thighs down Fred’s drooling maw, happily accepting more food whether Freddie’s mind wanted it or not. The two outside started panicking, not knowing how Will was getting pulled deeper.

“What the hell do I do?” Alex practically shrieked, watching Will get pulled deeper into Freddie, ballooning out his gut even more.

Freddie flew his arms out to the side in an “I don’t know” gesture. Feeling Will started kicking his legs in a frenetic passion, he signaling to both guys to pull him out. Through all the shock and confusion, both guys took a hold of Will by the legs, getting ready to wrench him out. They pulled and pulled to no avail. Something was keeping Will stuck inside Freddie’s throat, pulling him deeper…

“Come on, Will, just give in!” Brayden yanked Will’s slippery torso deeper into Freddie’s stomach chamber. He had been quietly pleasuring himself since arriving in the pit of Fred’s belly, listening intently to the commotion going on outside. Will’s plan was to excavate him from Fred’s belly, but he knew that this was exactly where he was meant to be. He did force-feed himself to Freddie, after all, so he was here purely because he wanted to be in here. Will didn’t seem to grasp that. What’s worse, he didn’t understand like Brayden did how amazing it was to be inside of Freddie’s gut. So, in an attempt to get Freddie’s belly stretched even further, and to allow Brayden to stay inside the hot, wet, gurgly confines of his friend’s gut, Brayden used his overt strength to pull Will in alongside him.

“Let go of me man! Are you insane?” Will wriggled from Brayden’s grasp only to be clung onto again. Will’s psychopath of a friend was trying to get them both stuck in Freddie’s belly, even though Will was trying to rescue Brayden.

Slippery as it was, Brayden was by far the strongest and largest in the friend group. Will had no purchase to cling to, and Freddie and Alex on the outside couldn’t contest Brayden's strength and devotion to Freddie’s gut at once. Grasping Will’s moist skin by the armpits, Brayden tugged hard, feeling something come loose. With a great strain, Brayden’s constant back days came in great use as he pulled Will all the way inside Freddie’s stomach chamber, feeling the cramped confines of Fred’s belly expand two-fold to fit in two of his best friends now as opposed to the one.

“There you go,” Brayden panted, “see how nice it is in here? Come on bro, admit it, you know you want to…” Brayden rubbed over his friend's naked torso and legs, covering him with Freddie’s stomach juices. In here, the noise was deafening. Their glutton of a friend’s belly truly never knew a limit, seeing as how Fred’s belly easily contained both Brayden and Will now. His shorts had inexplicably excused themselves from Will’s legs, leaving him completely naked alongside Brayden. Will hated that his body was accepting this, as his cock was rock hard alongside his other belly-filler that he used to call a friend. Very proud of himself, Brayden nudged the stomach walls of his friend, signaling to the young predator that he had fulfilled his belly even more.

Outside, a shocked silence filled the room, broken up by Freddie’s belly, which was a harbinger for stomach gurgles and groans. Freddie smacked his lips and limply played with the bedsheet that was once anchoring Will to the outside and was now attached to nothing. With an immense amount of guilt, his primary thought was that he wished he had gotten to savor Will a bit more before feeling him grow his belly out twice as big. He patted his disproportionately rounded gut and looked up to Alex.

“So, uh…” Freddie patted his belly, “what now?”

A huge burp erupted from Fred’s mouth, caused by the fighting that seemed to be happening inside his belly. As a consequence, Will’s gym shorts came flying out of Freddie’s mouth and slapped Alex directly in the face. The saliva-covered fabric seemed to be all that was left of their friend, if you discounted the titanic belly Freddie now sported and rubbed over possessively. Looking down, Freddie saw the bulges of Brayden’s hands, and he began to piece together what had happened.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP — BBBBBBBWWWWAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPP — BBBBUUURRRRPPPPP – “Fuck!”

“I think, uhh,” Freddie rubbed his chin, unsure how to say this in a way that sounded digestible, “I think that Brayden pulled Will down into my belly. I mean…You saw me. I didn’t swallow him once. I kept my promise, and yet, he’s…” Freddie trailed off and looked down at the squirming bulges that comprised his stretched abdomen.

“Huh… Will’s in there, too.” Alex spoke like he was hypnotized. Without warning, he kneeled down and began rubbing the crest of Freddie’s belly with a sensual spark of desire. Eye to eye with Freddie’s navel, Alex gave his friend’s belly button a light kiss.

Exasperated, Freddie belched and put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his stomach. Now he had two friends in here, and it felt so, so good. But, Will definitely wasn’t happy in there, and Alex wasn’t going to be of any help getting him out. Brayden couldn’t be more overjoyed, having added not only himself but Will in there, too. Leaning back, Freddie took a look at his engorged stomach with a little bit of awe. As ashamed he was to admit it, he was really proud of how he could fit two whole guys in there at once. The curve, the spherical shape, the noises his gut made as it sloshes around his food—Freddie was pretty much in heaven. Plus, Alex rubbing his belly, hypnotically fixated on his aptitude for swallowing his friends whole, which really helped make the college student feel great.

Inside, the belly-captives were essentially oil-wrestling, with Brayden favored as the clear victor. Freddie’s jam-packed gut kneaded them together, constantly rubbing cocks in the midst of their violence.

“Fuck you!” Will panted, finding difficulty in finding oxygen within the moist, squishy belly. His cock was at full mast, constantly getting stimulated by the wet, enveloping organ that contained him as well as Brayden’s brash movements.

“We belong in here, bro! Don’t you like how it feels?” Brayden pushed Will to the bottom of the belly, soaking his body in the mush that Freddie devoured at dinner. Pinning Will’s wrists next to his head, Brayden slowly lowered his torso to sit on Will, letting his wet, hard cock slide up into Brayden’s lubricated hole. Both boys moaned in unison, quickly shifting the vibe inside Freddie’s belly. What once was a sweaty mess of hatred and violence quickly turned into a sloppy, sweltering fuck session. Both guys dropped their hands and immediately clung to the other, kissing each other with so much passion that any romance movie would be jealous. The soft, wet folds of Freddie’s belly really did a number on both guys’ sex drive. Brayden began bouncing on Will’s leaking cock, whilst Will groped Brayden’s pecs for dear life as he was ridden within an inch of his life. 

“Fuck, me, you take that cock so well,” Will breathed, completely forgetting how angry he was at the meathead.

“Yeah, you like that, Will? You like how your big cock feels in my ass?” Brayden spat, cupping Will’s head and quickening his pace, grinding his bubble butt harder onto his friend. Will’s thick meat slid easily in and out of Brayden’s plump cheeks, wet slapping sounds accompanying each bounce on his cock. On the outside, this sloppy sex was stirring up a great deal of gas for Freddie.

BBBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP — BBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

“Ugh, what the hell are they doing in there?” Freddie touched his belly delicately as if it were about to explode. After a prolonged lack of movement, his gut started shifting back and forth in a rhythmic kind of motion. He seriously didn’t know what the guys were up to, but it really made his belly feel good with all of the movement inside. 

BBBUUUURRRRPPPPP UUURRPPP

“Jesus, they’re really moving around in there,” Alex looked up for the first time in a long while. His own aching cock was visible through his shorts, yet Freddie tried not to pay attention to his friend’s throbbing member.

This night couldn’t have been more strange, so Freddie decided to throw the towel in and go crazy with his ambitions. He had already swallowed two thirds of his friend group. He might as well finish the last guy off. His belly still had room for more, and he knew that Alex would taste delicious. Freddie, ever rubbing his belly, casually spoke, “So how do you want to go down?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah. So how do you want to go down? Feet or head first?” Freddie seemed transfixed on a spot on his stomach as he rubbed it without making eye contact. He belched out the side of his mouth, a casual display of his immense greed.

“Freddie…no…” Alex wanted to back away, but Freddie quickly seized him by the wrist. His stomach made a cacophonous sloshing sound with the other guys inside.

“Don’t worry, bro. It’ll be fine. Just tell me how you wanna — BBBBUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPP — go in.” Freddie’s casual tone for speaking about swallowing up his last friend was chilling. For the first time this night, Freddie was taking charge of the situation and doing exactly what he wanted to do. No more meals would shove themselves down his gullet; he was gonna gulp down someone for himself. And, as it happens, Alex was going to be that someone. “Which way will it be?”

Alex was tugged down onto the couch to meet Freddie eye-to-eye. He couldn’t help but stare further at his friend’s massive belly that held two of his friends within it. Gulping nervously, he suddenly felt like he was trapped in this situation. Will wasn’t here to save him. In fact, Will had also fallen victim to Fred’s belly. Brayden wasn’t here, either, to try and knock some sense into the predator. Brayden also ended up inside Freddie’s hungry tummy. These thoughts sent Alex reeling. How did Freddie do this? How could he do this? Why was he so casual about gulping down his entire friend group that he's been with for years? As he pondered this question, Freddie gave up on waiting for an answer. He clicked his tongue, chuckled, and licked Alex’s neck, tasting his final meal for the night.

“God, you taste so fucking delicious. Just as meaty as Brayden, and almost as salty as Will. You’re gonna feel so good going down, Alex.”

“F-Freddie, please,” Alex whimpered, cowering at his friend’s curious tongue. This sudden change in attitude was like a piercing bullet to the heart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Shhh,” Freddie whispered, “hear that…?” The predator’s stomach let out a long, deep rumble, sounding like a brutal threat to anyone that wasn’t Freddie. “I'm still hungry for more, Alex. You know what that means,” Fred licked hip lips.

“No. No, please! Feddie, I’m your friend, I’m not—”

Alex was cut off by Freddie wolfing down his head, forcing him in like he was meant to be dessert for his hungry friend. The salacious, formidable predator bunched up Alex’s shoulders and pulled his delectable body deeper into his throat. Inside his belly, the other two were still brutally fucking, so poor Alex would be having the shock of his life once he was swallowed down further. Freddie, in a euphoric fervor, did not seem to care about Alex’s well-being at the moment. His only concern was filling up his avaricious belly, which he was beginning to love and cherish more and more now. Alex’s flavor was a symphonic mix of his other two friends, which cascaded down his throat and kindled a warm, pure glow of pleasure in the pit of Freddie’s being. He moaned out, loudly signalling to Alex how good he tasted.

Freddie’s meal began struggling desperately for escape; however, he would find no solace besides the warm-wet embrace of Fred’s esophagus and digestive tract. Still, Alex began kicking his legs out, shouting for help. Unfortunately, all he looked like was a fish out of water, and Freddie was bringing him back into the sea. His severe gluttony propelled him to swallow more of Alex down, completely consuming his torso in a rapacious swallow. His throat muscles contracted against his friend, tightening then opening wide to allow his journey deeper into the yearning belly. For the third time that night, Freddie’s esophageal sphincter opened up, welcoming Alex’s head into his chamber, rife with activity.

Freddie pondered for a moment if what he was doing was right, but his head was far too clouded with how big his belly was going to be once Alex was safely tucked inside. A man’s gotta eat, right? Sometimes, if you’re hungry enough, you just need to make do with what’s around you, right? Freddie patted himself on the back for being resourceful and tilted his head back, letting Alex’s lower half slowly slide down into his belly. Like this, Fred could feel his stomach actively bloating out, which felt like a constant stimulation of satisfying pleasure, and he could also watch as Alex’s legs disappeared behind his plush lips, which was equally as fulfilling. A low, wet, sliding noise sounded as his tortured friend thrashed wildly but ultimately slipped deeper and deeper into his friend’s throat. In his mouth, a pool of saliva had formed, making Alex nice and wet to facilitate his travels. If Freddie could be honest with himself, this was amazing. It felt so good to be able to swallow his friends whole, and as time passed, he was convincing himself that this is where they belonged—inside his belly, gurgling and churning away.

After an agonizingly long time for Alex but a tragically brief time for Freddie, gravity had done its job. Alex was safely past Freddie’s open maw. He gulped one time, sending Alex’s feet barrelling into his rapidly growing gut. When his gargantuan stomach rounded out, he felt relieved to have finally finished his dinner for the night. He leaned down and kissed his squirming belly: a monument to his insatiable hunger.

“Fuck me, you guys were good,” he moaned. “Just look at this thing! You made me huge, but it feels so good– UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP–settle down in there, okay you guys?”

Fred jostled his belly, hearing the roaring sloshes and feeling the frenetic movements inside of it. If he could reach his aching cock around his behemoth of a belly, he would have ejaculated twenty times by now. Who knew the process of swallowing your entire friend group whole could be so erotic? With a herculean effort, Freddie used the momentum of his belly to stand himself up and begin something of a penguin waddle over to Alex’s bedroom where he would sleep these guys off for the night. His hands were magnetic to his belly—Freddie was addicted to feeling his stomach gurgle around his friends, coating them in his juices and massaging their meat until they were tender. He had to pause in the hallway to take deep breaths because walking around while carrying your best friends in your stomach was tiring work. Plus, his friends were still definitely moving around in there. It seemed like they didn’t want to give up just yet.

As Fred finally made his way to Alex’s soft, queen-sized bed, Brayden, Will, and now Alex were all about to reach their climax. Somehow, Will had maneuvered Brayden to the middle of Freddie’s gut so he could fuck his mouth. As he was doing so, Alex spilled into the stomach chamber with them, and Brayden taunted Alex with his perky bubble butt. Alex figured he might as well because there was nothing else to do, so he joined in on the fun, ravaging Brayden’s used hole with his rock-hard dick. The boys, now engaged in a passionate threesome, were kicking up a lot of gas for poor Freddie, who was belching up a storm on the outside. The air gradually became more stale as time passed. To Freddie, this was just a food coma after a big meal, but to his friends, this was their last night to truly live, so they had to make everything worth it. As Alex and Will Eiffel Towered Brayden, they kissed deeply whilst pumping in and out of their muscular friend. The oxygen supply was slowly running out, so their movements quickened, knowing they had little time left. With a rough pounding, all three guys came gallons at the same time, letting their cum paint Brayden and the stomach walls that kneaded them like dough.

“Fuck..!” Brayden, exclaimed, short of breath. “I love you guys…Fuck you Brayden,” he said, kissing him angrily on the lips.

“You were the best friends I’ve ever had,” Alex rubbed his cock between Brayden’s ass cheeks and collapsed onto his back.

“I’m glad we’re all here to experience this together,” Brayden moaned, grinding against Alex and kissing Will deeply.

With that, the sweltering confines of Freddie’s belly took control, siphoning any oxygen the boys might’ve had left over and replacing it with digestive enzymes and stomach juices. It was unfortunate, but it’s not like anyone there didn’t know what happens inside a hungry belly. In a hazy fervor of passion and lust, the guys all fell asleep on top of each other, letting Freddie’s belly get to work on them.

Freddie, still dozing, woke up in the middle of the night to rub his belly and feel his friends stop moving. He groaned in dissatisfaction, as their movements felt really good, but he rubbed his belly once more and smiled, cooing softly to them, “You guys tasted so good. Thank you for filling me up, bros.”

The morning sun-rays filtered through Alex’s blinds like beams of heaven themselves illuminating Alex’s bedroom. Brayden woke up first, just in time to see Freddie entering the room, four coffee mugs in hand. He himself looked like an angel with his short, curly hair, striped boxers, and muscular frame. And, curiously, his flat six-pack had returned to its shredded state. His predatory friend beamed at Brayden lovingly before handing him a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Freddie fluttered his eyelashes in a mock-girlfriend type of manner to Brayden, who looked down at his coffee with a confused expression, like it was drugged.

“What…? But didn’t you…?” Brayden trailed off, still feeling somewhat sticky. He was naked, which was bizarre, given that Freddie didn’t seem off-put by it in the slightest. Looking over, he saw two other naked, sleeping figures—Alex and Will—cuddled up against each other tightly and snoring softly. They looked cute together, but that didn’t shake the confusion Brayden felt stirring in him.

“I did,” Freddie admitted, nodding his head and taking a sip of coffee casually. “But, Bray, you know me enough by now, don’t you? You knew you guys were never actually on the menu…”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Brayden slumped, somewhat disappointed, and Freddie climbed into bed next to his larger friend to comfort him about not being digested.

Rubbing Bray’s back in slow circles, Freddie squeezed next to him and whispered, “And, plus, I want…” Freddie murmured something into his coffee mug that Brayden couldn’t hear.

“Huh?”

“I wanted…”

“Freddie, speak up bro.”

“I want to do it again with you guys. Here, listen,” Freddie’s stomach was growling with a deep primal hunger. Last night had unlocked something in him that needed satisfying.

Brayden looked at Freddie in his charming, handsome face, taking a moment to analyze and scan his friend’s handsome features. The, Brayden leaned in slowly and kissed Freddie passionately on the lips. Freddie was taken aback, but he put his coffee mug on a bedside table and kissed Bradyen back with equal amounts of lust.

The two boys went on like that for quite some time, fooling around with each other and listening to Freddie’s stomach growl. Eventually, Will woke up to the sight of Brayden’s hand wrapped around Freddie’s massive cock and he jumped back in shock. The two laughed and decided to wake Alex up to explain everything that had happened last night. After a great deal of apologizing from Freddie for making it seem like they were his food (Surprisingly, Will forgave him almost instantly, but Alex needed more convincing), and after a lot of…previously unsurfaced feelings were hashed out in the folds of Freddie’s belly, the guys all took turns washing up in Alex’s shower, making sure Freddie’s digestive juices weren’t anywhere on their person, they all got together to walk down to a breakfast place down the street (Freddie’s idea, of course).

Brayden grabbed Freddie by the elbow before he went out the door to follow Will and Alex, who were already down onto the street. Sheepishly, Brayden asked, “Hey, Freddie?”

“Yeah Bray?”

“One day, will you let me stay in there,” Brayden nodded down at Fred’s stomach. “Like, permanently.”

Freddie smiled warmly, kissing Brayden on the cheek, “Sure thing, bro. One day. But for now, let’s just go get breakfast.” Freddie’s belly rumbled softly, telling them it was time to go.

In elation, Brayden picked up Freddie with ease, spinning him around several times and kissing Freddie everywhere he could think of, stopping for a moment at his abdomen, giving a slower, more meaningful kiss there, which earned him a deep growl. Freddie blushed a crimson scarlet, barely able to hold himself back from swallowing his friend right then and there. “Alright, Bray, you’ve had your fun. Let’s go catch up with the others. I’m starving.”

[maplegyu]

I wanna start off by saying: Kae i love uuu and a million thank you's will never be enough for the way you indulge me!

I always feel so seen in all the requests of mine that you accept and bring to life. This was no exception!

First: THE TITLE BEING HARD CARRY??? HELLO THE LITTLE SPRINKLE OF GOT7!!! its the perfect title and i loved it a little too much!!!

Second, let me yap about our love for math genius/math tutor!Mingyu 🤩 one of my favorite things about Mingyu is that he's such a smart boy!!! I love when fics incorporate this detail about him! I've told Kae about personal headcanons i have for a version of math tutor!gyu and they fully supported me and my delusions so when an opportunity came to have Kae write their own math genius!gyu, i took it! We cheered when i landed on this specific soulmate request HAAHAHAH

I love this particular take on the soulmate connection because it's not a forced proximity type thing! They just have a connection and somehow know each other whether they like it or not.

Being able to choose your soulmate's font subtitles was such a cute touch!!!

There you go, he answers.

I screamed and my knees went weak so quickly. It's insane actu how down bad i am for Mingyu! The way i pictured him saying this LIKE OKAY MR SMARTIE PANTS BUT ON THE INSIDE IM LIKE DAMN YES UR SO ATTRACTIVE KNOWING ALL THAT AND VALIDATING ME TOO

Don’t tempt me with a good time.

I SCREAMED AT THIS TOO WHAT ARE YOU SO SMOOTH AND WITTY FOR

I also live for reader calling him a nerd! Yes that's your nerd!!!

All the paragraphs describing Mingyu's inner turmoil of missing reader asking him for help... my chest it felt things!!!!!!! I also loved the switch in pov rraaaahhhh

But this whole scene was everything to me!!!

It reveals so much about their personalities/character! Reader being a little sassy and fiesty but also at the end of the day can swallow her pride and ask for her soulmate's help.

Mingyu being smug that it did not have to be him to connect with her first. And the admittance to like being needed. Please that's so canon Kim Mingyu my acts of service king!!!

The little detail of the heart sketch? My boy you are in love 💘

Okay so the Somi cameo was crazy??? I recently revealed to Kae that Somi is the love of my life 🙈 (ok i have like 4 or 5 lomls and ults dont come for meee) I DID NOT IN MY WILDEST DREAMS EXPECT HER TO MAKE A CAMEO 😭💖 its details like this that really make me feel seen and loved and know im not just yapping into the void. Kae really listens and remembers little details and thats truly a special love language!!!

You can’t miss somebody you’ve never met. 

BUT YOU CAN MISS SOMEONE YOU KNOW 🥺 not having met Mingyu doesn't mean you haven't gone through things with him! Missing your soulmate in your thoughts is valid 🥰 that's what I imagine Somi would've told reader if reader opened up to Somi like that hahaha

The conclusion was honestly perfect 🥰

Kae somehow conjured up the perfect soulmates meet cute.

It was never up to them when they would meet because what are the odds that they decide for the very first time, they learn and order each others' coffee orders! It's so different it feels like they ordered it for each other 🥰 i imagine a sip from each others' drinks and they switch orders soon after hahahaha

And the way they both heard saw "cute" in their heads?! When we know the connection is something they can turn on and off?! I so believe it's the universe telling them it's time!

Thank you for this addition to our ever growing Mingyu multiverse! Which i lovingly started calling our gyuniverse 🥰 thank you for your writing and your stories you so generously share with us! I feel so lucky to not only know your work but have you as a gyuldaengie-in-law friend too!!! I love you most ardently!!! 💖

hard carry 🧮 mingyu x reader.

your math major soulmate is the only reason you’re surviving college, but how long can you rely on him for help?

★ math major!mingyu x art major!reader.  ★ word count: 2k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: college/university, alternate universe: soulmates (you and your soulmate can communicate with thoughts), romance, fluff, humor. a math term/solution i am not 100% sure about. reader’s thoughts are in pink while mingyu’s are in blue.   ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. when are @maplegyu and i not self-indulgent? alas, brainiac!kmg is one of my favorite versions of gyu— so i’m glad to finally have an excuse to play with it. ily, maple! 

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ hard carry by got7. no song without you by honne. in the same place by girls on top. let’s love by suho. lilac by iu. mariposa by peach tree rascals. love equation by vixx. common denominator by justin bieber.

Barnett Newman. Helen Frankenthaler. Mark Rothko. 

All fantastic abstract expressionist painters, known for their vibrant compositions and color-saturated canvases. Some of your peers turned their noses up at the movement, presumably because it always took a little more of a critical eye to understand it. 

You didn’t share the same distaste. Most of the time, you enjoyed the colors, lines, and shapes that all served to be a bigger part of a whole. 

If anything, the math problem in front of you was the most abstract thing you’d ever faced. 

You stare at the test paper, your pencil hovering uselessly above the page. The numbers have all blurred together— a mess of equations and symbols that could rival the work of Jackson Pollock. 

It’s almost comical, how you slot so easily into the stereotype of art-major-who’s-ass-at-math. Some people are an exception to the norm. You are not one of them. 

“Fifteen minutes left,” your hard-pressed professor drawls from the front of the classroom, and you snap out of your woe-is-me reverie.

Question five taunts you. If f(x) = 3x² - 4x + 7, find f'(x) and evaluate f'(2).

Derivatives. Okay. You know this. You should know this. 

Except, right now, your brain is a blank canvas.

You purse your lips. This isn’t going to bode well for you, but you’d held out this long. You’ll be lucky to get a C on this test— to pass by the skin of your teeth— and so you deserve to get at least one question indisputably correct. Right? 

Mingyu. You reach out through the bond, desperate. You there? 

Some have said that once you’ve met your soulmate, once you know how they sound like, it’s their voice that rings in your thoughts. If you haven’t, though, you’re left with something more akin to subtitles. Text flashing in your head in a font of your choosing. 

(Your poison is Courier New. You asked Mingyu once, what his font for you was, but he never really ‘got back’ to you on it.) 

There’s a pause— just long enough for you to feel guilty— before a response flashes in your mind. Aren’t you in the middle of a test? 

You can almost imagine his tone. You anticipate it’d be something sharp and warm all at once, which is just your way of coping with how desperate you feel right now. 

I’m seriously failing in the middle of my test, you respond. Hopefully, he can read how frantic and desperate you are. I just need a little nudge. 

A beat. 

You tack on, Please? 

If Mingyu could sigh, he probably would have by now. He’s a man carrying the weight of your academic shortcomings, after all. There’s just enough exasperation in his ‘tone’ when he shoots back, Fine. What is it? 

Your eyes dart over the problem plaguing you. Once you’ve mentally relayed it to your soulmate, he responds without missing a beat. 

Power rule. If you have something like axⁿ, the derivative is naxⁿ⁻¹. 

You blink. Say that like I’m five. 

So help me, God, Mingyu says, forcing you to tamp down a laugh. Okay. What’s 3x²? 

Uh… 6x? 

Good. And -4x? 

-4? 

And a constant? 

Zero— 

You sit up a little straighter, faltering mid-mental correspondence. So f’(x) is 6x - 4.

Mingyu can’t really sound amused— or proud— but you picture it all the same when he urges you to go on. And f’(2)? 

Your pencil is already scribbling furiously across your test paper. Eight, you triumphantly declare. The answer is eight. 

There you go, he answers. 

For not the first time, you wish you’d already met him. It must be nice to have a smile in your mind, a cadence instead of sentences. But you and Mingyu had agreed that neither of you were in a rush. You were both uni students wanting to explore your individual lives at your own pace before attempting a happily ever after. 

It’s only through your ironclad will that you’ve resisted the urge to look him up, to find out if there was a math major named Mingyu within your area.

This is the last time I’m going to help you cheat, he says as you move on to correct your answers for some of the other questions.

A corner of your mouth twitches upward. That’s what you said last time. 

Yeah, well, I mean it this time. Get a tutor or something, woman. 

Are you presenting yourself? 

Don’t tempt me with a good time. 

Your professor keeps you from responding immediately. “Five minutes,” she calls out. 

Your fingers tighten around your pencil. It wouldn’t be the first or last instance where academic integrity might be compromised because of the whole soulmate bond, but Mingyu is right. You can’t keep summoning him like your personal math genie. 

Fine, you concede. I’ll stop bothering you with my [math] problems. Nerd. 

Mingyu asked for it, so, really— he’s to blame for missing it. 

It’s an odd feeling, this restlessness that comes in the absence of your out-of-the-blue inquiries. The two of you still occasionally reach through the bond to exchange an amicable word or two, maybe recommend a song, but gone are the times you’d come running to him for help. 

He’s sitting in the library, his notebook opened to a half-finished proof. His pencil twirls idly between his fingers as he attempts to focus. Instead, his mind keeps drifting to what was once a daily occurrence. 

Panicked whispers of Mingyu, help. Last-minute pleas for salvation. Complaints about how math is ruining your life, how this would most definitely not be useful in the real world. 

(He would never admit it, but he had always liked when you tangented into the last one. It felt a bit like a betrayal to his field, the endearment he felt whenever you’d flood his mind with paragraph after paragraph cussing out Newton and Leibniz for inventing calculus.) 

With a sharp sigh, he stabs his pencil into the spiral binding of his notebook and leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. His fingers drum against the desk. His leg bounces. He debates reaching out first— just to check, just to make sure you haven’t actually given up on math altogether. But what would he even say?

Hey, fail another test yet? Are you alive, or did calculus finally take you out? I kind of miss you annoying me. Don’t let it go to your head.

No, no, and definitely not. 

He doesn’t even know you like that. You’re soulmates and that’s pretty much it. He’s lucky that you’ve been rather chill about the whole affair, not hurrying to meet him and lock him down like other soulmate horror stories he’s heard. 

He knows bits and pieces. Your major, your love for survival reality shows, your utter distaste for anything beyond multiplication. 

Mingyu mumbles something like “for fuck’s sake” to himself. He tries to refocus, and he manages to make it halfway into his homework when it comes. 

Mingyu. 

When you wanted to tell him something inconsequential, like The new Fantastic Four movie sucked or I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now, you went straight into it. You only ever ‘said’ his name when it was related to numbers. 

Took you long enough, he says, his lips twitching. 

Shut up. I was trying to figure it out on my own this time. 

And? 

Your brief moment of hesitation has Mingyu wondering if he’s too cruel. His mother had always advised him to be nice to his soulmate, to not overwhelm you, and he contemplates throwing in an apology. Before he can, though, you’re back in his head. 

I need you. 

Something in his chest tightens. He tells himself it’s just relief. 

(The truth of the matter is this: Mingyu liked being needed by you. He wasn’t sure yet why, but he did.) 

Yeah, yeah, he responds as he absentmindedly sketches a heart into the corner of his notebook. What’s the problem? 

You’re starting to think that a tutor might not be that bad of an idea. 

While Mingyu is always obliging, the guilt of relying on your connection was beginning to weigh on you. You scoured the university boards until you found a girl named Somi willing to meet with you twice a week, and it was going pretty well. 

Still— is it weird to admit that you kind of miss running to Mingyu? 

You try your darndest to keep those thoughts catalogued. A couple of your friends have talked about accidentally slipping some of their innermost thoughts to their soulmates, and God forbid Mingyu find out that you crave his dry wit. 

You can’t miss somebody you’ve never met. 

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you go to Mingyu less and less, instead filling in the gaps of your conversation with menial, everyday things. 

What coffee do you usually drink?, you ask him one afternoon. 

You’re in the world’s slowest-moving line, at the cafe you and Somi frequented for your tutoring sessions. Your phone is dead, you’ve analyzed the art on the walls at least seven different ways, and there’s no one around for you to talk to. Might as well abuse the soulmate connection. 

His response comes in by the time you’re nearly at the front of the line. Iced Americano, he responds. Why? 

No reason. 

“Next.” 

You offer a sympathetic smile to the dead-eyed barista at the counter. “Once large iced Americano, please,” you say. 

You go to stand off to the side. As you’re waiting for your order, Mingyu asks a question of his own. 

What about you? 

What about me? 

What’s your go-to order? 

You contemplate it for a moment. Salted caramel cream cold brew. 

The barista hands you your drink. A corner of your lip twitches upward as you accept it, Mingyu’s response coming in at the same time. 

That sounds obscene, he taunts. A toothache in the making. 

Hey. You’re mentally britsling, readying to defend your coffee of choice. I’ll have you know— 

“Oomf!” 

This was sometimes the problem about getting lost in your thoughts. You tend to get dragged out of the real world, stuck in your conversation. You exchange a quick apology with the person you bumped into, the tips of your ears flaming red. 

With your drink in hand, you make a beeline for the table that you and Somi always sit at. You’re distracted enough to forget that you were mid-‘conversation’ with Mingyu, and so you barely register that your usually punctual tutor has yet to arrive— or that someone else is coming up to your table once you’ve settled in. 

Later, you will get a text from Somi telling you something came up, but not to fret; she called in a friend to help. Someone who was more than willing to pick up Somi’s slack after joking that he’d already been doing it for the soon-to-be-love-of-his-life. 

Your gaze flicks up to the boy standing in front of you. 

‘Cute.’ ‘Cute.’ 

It’s a two-way record scratch. 

The stranger hovering by your table seems to freeze, too, and the pieces fall together in your head like a puzzle— no. It’s like when you squint at an abstract painting and the whole thing comes together.

You had said sorry earlier, hadn’t you? To the person you bumped into. He had apologized as well. 

Now, there was a voice to the words in your head. A face to the soulmate you’d been missing.

“Hey,” your soulmate says, he says out loud. 

He plops down into the seat across from you, trying and failing to fight off the biggest smile on his face. There’s no need to exchange introductions. He says your name, and it’s so much better than anything you could have ever imagined. 

When Mingyu sets down his drink, you actually laugh. 

It’s a salted caramel cream cold brew. 

[forgeofthenine]

I’m so sad there isn’t much solo Rolan request yet, but I am more than happy to submit one thing that hasn’t left my brain!:

We all know Rolan is a hard worker but I think that after so many years of him only worrying about Cal and Lia he sometimes forgets he has to take care of himself. Maybe some head cannons about how his significant other could help him not be so focused on his work and his reaction to someone else taking care of him for once?

Taking care of Rolan headcanons

First off, this man absolutely will not make things easy for you

We all know he's headstrong and stubborn af, even Cal and Lia can't convince him to relax

So, you need to start things off easy and be gentle with him

Small things like making tea for the both of you and bringing it to his study, or cleaning shared spaces before he gets the chance

Things you can brush off so he doesn't make a big deal out of it

Once you're done being all sneaky and working in some extra affection into his everyday life, he'll start to question other things less

He won't be as uptight about you interrupting his studies to give him a shoulder massage and coax him into bed, or insisting he eat a meal with you away from his desk

Despite that, sometimes he still needs you to be a bit stern with him

Take him by the hands and haul him away from his desk for a walk through Baldurs Gate, he needs the sunshine

Or trap him in bed with you for a little longer than he normally is

Guilt tripping him in the morning is oddly effective

He starts off huffing and puffing over it all, but deep down he knows it's good to have someone looking after him

You'll never stop him from returning the favour, though

You're in Cal and Lias boat, he'll look after the three of you whether you like it or not

Can't reach something? He'll handle it. Want food but can't be bothered cooking? Let him, he insists it's not too much trouble

I don't see tieflings getting sick often, but when he's sick it is so much more easy to look after him

A bed bound Rolan is a less argumentative Rolan

It takes him some time to get used to, but eventually, he's quite happy with the little system you both work out

Soon, when you step inside with tea he's already clearing away tomes and papers

And when you're insisting he leaves the tower with you, he quick to wrap and arm around your waist or take your hand in his

He'll never say out loud that he enjoys it, but you can tell

He's a big softy under that prickly demeanour

Man, it's been forever since I've done any writing on anything other than Character.AI. I'm going through some very serious family issues right now, and with that I wanted a little distraction so I turned back to this. If anyone wants to send in some sweet fluffy requests or something, I'd appreciate it. All of my old requests are almost entirely smut and I just need something SFW rn lol.

[abyssalwavezz]

ok since caleb is back i NEEDDDD to see him and zayne interact and they have like a rivalry since they’re all childhood friends in case infold doesn’t give it to me idk how it would work tho but i trust you

Fire and Ice

Author's note: I really almost went a very dark romance direction with this, but it would've needed to be multiple parts and Caleb would've been like a villain, so I did my best to condense it into a single chapter uwu plus, this is my first LADS fic, so I am really getting a feel for the characterization and what kind of storylines I want to write after so long of not writing fics.

Contains: College AU! Zayne x MC/YN x Caleb love triangle (except MC doesn't really like Caleb back) where Zayne ultimately wins over MC teehee, shameless cameos of the other boys because I can, and several time skips because yeah <3

Warnings: cursing I guess? and Caleb being kind of a creep lol but we all know he is one canonically anyway, and also this wasn't proofread because who has time for that

Word Count: 3,743

Class started at 9:00 today just like it did every other day. Today though, you were late. And of course, it was an exam day.

You jumped out of bed as soon as you realized it was 8:41. Could you get ready and make it across campus in 20 minutes?

Only one way to find out.

Had you looked at your phone, you would've realized that a certain someone had been trying to message you. But he was unable to since your phone was on DND. You were too busy throwing on clothes and making yourself look presentable to think about anything else, anyway.

Once you had an outfit on and had somewhat cleaned yourself up, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

8:53...shit.

On a good day, it took about 10 minutes to walk to this class. Today, you would have to run there in 7. If only you hadn't skipped running the mile for gym...

You grabbed your bag, keys, and phone (that you still hadn't looked at) before running out the door.

However, something very sturdy and tall stopped you halfway down the hallway.

"Oof," you grunted as you came into contact with this tall, sturdy thing.

Turns out, it was a person. The person who had been trying to text you all morning.

"Caleb! What the hell?"

You looked up at him in frustration.

"I'm trying to get to class! The one you should be in too? We have an exam!"

Caleb, who still hadn't actually spoken, only laughed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He clicked a few things on the screen before turning it towards you.

It showed an email from your professor to your class, letting you all know that he was sick and that both class and the exam was cancelled.

It took you a few seconds to decide if you were happy or upset about the situation. Ultimately, you decided you were happy.

"If your phone hadn't been on 'Ignore Caleb Mode,' this could've been avoided," he chuckled out, putting his own phone back in his pocket.

You finally got yours out and noticed that you had, in fact, missed three texts and four calls from Caleb.

The most recent one though, wasn't from Caleb. It was from Zayne. Just reading his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat.

"You wanna go get breakfast or something?" Caleb asked, snapping you away from your Zayne-themed thoughts.

Your eyes met his excited ones, but it only took him a second to realize what your answer would be.

"Come onnnn," he groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "Your next class isn't until 12 and mine is at 12:30. You got some big plans or something?"

You hesitated. You weren't sure how much you should tell Caleb. He could be a bit funny about things sometimes.

"I...I told Zayne I would meet him for coffee after our class. Which has now been cancelled, so he texted me asking if I wanted to meet him earlier instead."

Caleb grew silent, whatever was left of his initial hopeful expression now nonexistent.

"Oh...I see. Forgot he was in our class too."

"Caleb, come on. How about I have dinner with you to make up for it? Whatever happened with you two anyway? We all used to be great friends."

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking at the floor halfheartedly.

"Don't worry about it. Go have fun, I won't get in the way."

With that, Caleb walked away.

~

You sighed as you swirled the last bit of your now cold coffee around the bottom of the mug.

"And so then he just walked away," you said quietly, still not sure what you did to deserve that from Caleb.

You looked up at the dark-haired man in front of you.

Zayne hadn't said much yet, he was just listening to you go on and on. But this really wasn't out of the ordinary for you two.

"Never mind that! Tell me about your day so far Zayne. I have really been yapping since we sat down."

Zayne lifted the corner of his mouth in a small smile, breathing slightly through his nose before raising his mug to his lips for a drink, and then setting it back down.

"I wouldn't call it yapping. I enjoy listening to you speak, and it sounds like you had an eventful day right from the start."

Your face burned slightly from Zayne's words, and you prayed he didn't notice.

"But my day before now really only consisted of some early morning studying, if you really wanted to know."

You chuckled a bit and raised your eyebrow playfully at Zayne.

"Future Dr. Zayne needs to study? We should all feel a little better about ourselves then!"

Zayne shook his head at your comment, in the way he always does when he thinks something is funny but doesn't want to show it and give you the satisfaction.

"Everyone would benefit from studying. Some of us...more than others," he said so only you could hear, glancing at the farthest corner of the cafe.

You followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at.

At the table in the corner was the well-known quiet kid, Xavier. His head was down on the top of the table in its usual position, and even from where you were sitting you could hear his signature snores.

What was really funny though, was not Xavier, but something else.

There were three people sitting across from him at another table with their phones out, taking pictures of him sleeping. Their stifled laughs and giggles were infectious, and you realized it was the class clown group of Sylus and his two sidekicks, Luke and Kieran. They truly were always getting into trouble or causing it.

You snorted and quickly covered your mouth and nose with both hands, hoping no one heard it. But of course Zayne did, and even he had to laugh quietly.

After the moment passed and it got quiet again, you decided to ask Zayne the real question that had been on your mind. The same one you asked Caleb a couple of hours ago.

"So... what did happen between you two? There must have been something."

Zayne stared into his dry coffee mug, pushing his glasses up slightly with the tip of his index finger.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to, (Y/N)."

"You know what I'm talking about. Caleb? The three of us used to have so much fun together as kids. Then when we started college together, everything got so tense a few weeks into the first semester."

"There are some things that you don't know, and it would be better if it remained that way. At least...for now."

You knew not to push Zayne. And you did trust him, so you decided to leave it alone for the moment.

Hopefully you would get to the bottom of it, sooner or later.

~

The two of you had stayed at the cafe much longer than you meant to. So you decided to go through the to-go lunch line before Zayne walked you to your next class.

You wondered if Zayne knew how you felt at times like these. Of course he was smart, but was he able to tell how you truly felt about him? What would he think? What would he say, if he knew? There's no way he would feel the same, so would he at least still want to be your friend?

Stupid.

Once Zayne had gotten his food as well, he turned towards you but stopped before he moved any closer.

"(Y/N), don't move."

You clicked your tongue in fake annoyance and put your hands on your hips, putting all your weight onto one side as you glared at Zayne.

"Why? Is there a big spider on me or something?"

"Yes."

"What?"

You immediately froze, your bag of food falling to the ground with a slight plop noise. Then you screamed and flailed your hands around, trying to brush off whatever spawn of Satan was on you.

In the commotion, you lost your balance, and fell backwards, colliding with another person. Whoever it was broke your fall, at least.

"Ouch, my hand!" the person whined underneath you.

As quickly as you could, you got up onto your feet and saw a big brown spider on the floor, scurrying away from the scene.

Huh, so Zayne really was telling the truth.

Snapping back to reality, you bent down with your hand outstretched to help the purple haired boy up.

"I am so sorry. It's Rafayel, right? Is your hand okay?"

Rafayel groaned and rubbed his right hand with his left before making eye contact with you.

"No thanks to you. I need my hands for painting, you know."

Rafayel bent over to pick up his bookbag that had fallen down, and then shot you another look.

"But I suppose that spider was a fearsome creature. You're forgiven."

Before you could apologize again, he turned on his heel and marched away.

Blinking rapidly, you stood up straight and scanned the cafeteria. As you made eye contact with people, they looked away away in a hurry. All except Zayne, who stood holding your forgotten bag of food.

"Shut up, Zayne."

"But I didn't say anything."

~

Classes were now over for the day, and you thought it was strange that you hadn't seen Caleb anymore. Usually, he was waiting outside your classrooms whenever he could, almost like he had your schedule memorized and watched you from a distance somehow. To be honest, you wouldn't put it past him. He had always been super protective of you, which you appreciated. But sometimes, it could be a bit much. Especially as you have gotten older, and are starting to feel differently and do more things on your own.

Did Caleb...like you? Is that why he has been like that? Or was he just being the best friend he could be for you?

Nah, no way he liked you. You guys were just really good friends, and had been for years. That was enough for you.

Zayne, on the other hand, often had your emotions and thoughts in a knot. You couldn't put your finger on when exactly, but you had fallen for him as more than just a friend, and you thought about him often.

Would his lips be as cold as his hands usually were?

You shook your head, trying to shake the thought itself from your brain. No sense in getting too deep. Zayne was here for school and to become a doctor. And he could have anyone he wanted, so why on Earth would that person be you?

You decided to take a walk before it got too dark. After all, it would be nice to be by yourself for a bit since the day had been so chaotic so far.

Glancing out the window of your room, you tried to plan the route you would walk. But when you did, you noticed someone duck behind the bushes nearby.

What the hell?

Now curious about who was watching you in your own room, you decided to go around the back of your dorm building to try and catch whoever it was.

Once you were outside, you crouched a bit and tried to come around the corner of the building as quietly as possible. You took each step with a sense of purpose, willing the person to still be there. The bushes were now only a few steps away.

In a flash, you lunged, separating the bushes with your hands to find out who the creep was. But there was no one there.

Defeated, you plopped down onto the grass, trying to decide if you even wanted to go for a walk anymore.

"Whatcha doing down there on the ground?" a familiar voice behind you asked.

"Caleb!"

You stood up excitedly and clasped your hands together.

Caleb bent down to your eye-level and smiled, his usual sparkle back in his gaze.

"Were you lookin' for something?"

You shook your head, looking back over at the disheveled bush.

"No, it was really weird. I thought someone was watching me from the bushes right there. It's right underneath my window. I was gonna punch them in the mouth!"

Caleb coughed.

"Yeah, that is really weird. Anyway, wanna grab dinner soon? You offered, after all."

"Oh, sure! It's gonna get dark soon anyway, so no time for a walk after all."

You walked with Caleb to the cafeteria in silence. Usually the two of you would be talking about random things, whether that be you trying to decide on a major or Caleb's newest model airplane he built. But today, it was nothing. And you didn't really like that.

"Caleb, do you care about me?"

Your sudden question startled him, the silence around you quickly dissipating. But he didn't miss a beat.

"Well, of course I do. It's about time you noticed! But why are you asking?"

"Because I feel like you're hiding something from me. And so is Zayne, and it really bothers me. Today was especially bothersome."

Caleb sighed, opening the door to the cafeteria for you.

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes! I miss the two of you getting along. We had some great times."

Caleb grabbed two empty lunch trays and handed you one. You mumbled a quick thanks as you watched his conflicted facial expression manifest.

"We just had a fight, okay? That's all. Sometimes that happens and people aren't friends anymore."

You weren't satisfied. You knew there was more to it after the way he reacted earlier when you told him you were meeting Zayne for coffee.

"You're still leaving something out."

"What, you wanna know what we fought about?"

"Yes! Maybe I can help."

Caleb shook his head, reaching for a serving spoon to get some rice.

"Hmm, I don't think so, (Y/N). Not this time. This isn't like when we argued over the last Popsicle in Grandma's freezer."

"Oh, come on. I'm not a little girl anymore. You don't have to hide things from me."

He gripped the next serving spoon tightly, causing the food on it to wobble slightly.

"I know you aren't a little girl anymore, and that's part of the problem. You don't need me as much anymore."

"Caleb," you groaned, "You know I still want you around, no matter what. I love you, you know?"

Caleb's head seemed to be on a swivel, as fast as he turned towards you.

"You do?"

"Well yeah! You're my best friend."

Caleb's face fell slowly, starting with his eyebrows and ending with his lips.

"Yeah, best friends love each other, I guess..."

You followed him out of line to the closest table where he flopped onto one of the seats.

"I don't understand, Caleb. You don't want me to love you?"

"He does, but not in the way you are referring to, (Y/N)," a male voice said from behind where you were sitting. A voice you knew very well.

"Zayne?" you gasped. "How did you know I was here?"

You turned away from Caleb to look at him fully. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the expression on his face was completely unreadable.

"This is usually the time you eat dinner, and I was hoping I would find you here. I did some thinking after our conversation earlier and wanted to talk to you."

A sudden loud noise caused you to jump. Looking towards the sound, you saw Caleb's tight fist against the table, surrounded by stray grains of rice.

"You've got a lot of nerve comin' up to our table right now, Zayne."

"I suppose I have just as much nerve as someone who enjoys stalking women due to their own insecurities."

Caleb stood up from the table, attracting the eyes of other students sitting down for dinner.

"Um, guys. Maybe we should all go talk outside?"

You felt something cold against your hand, and then another on your cheek.

They were snowflakes from Zayne's Evol, melting against the heat of your flushed skin.

You quickly glanced at Zayne, who was completely focused on Caleb. He hadn't even realized that he was causing them to appear in his emotional state.

A few of them stuck to your eyelashes, but you quickly blinked them away, risking a look at Caleb.

He was just as focused on Zayne, his jaw set in place and his hands now gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles.

"I think that's a great idea," Caleb spat, still not breaking eye contact with Zayne.

Without another word, he stomped towards the door, bumping Zayne's shoulder on the way by.

Though you hadn't moved, you felt out of breath as you finally met Zayne's eyes.

He was stoic, the anger he felt inside radiating off of him like a heatwave.

"Sorry about the snow," he said quietly.

You shook your head.

"What is going on? This is the first time the two of you have interacted in a long time, and it's already going to shit."

"He wants you all to himself, (Y/N). And that is just something I cannot abide."

"He what? Zayne, what-."

Before you could finish, he left to walk outside as well, taking the remaining snowflakes with him.

You ignored the onlookers and the mess left on your table before following after them.

Once you had them in your sights, you realized Caleb was getting in Zayne's face, challenging him to make a move.

Your walk turned into a run so you could catch up to them in the clearing that they were in behind the cafeteria. It seemed that they were in the middle of a new argument.

"...doesn't know what she wants. How would you know, nerd?"

"You aren't right for her, and you act strangely when it comes to her. What would any sane person think?"

Caleb was getting loud, but Zayne was speaking in his usual measured tone.

"What is going on?"

The boys froze, seeing that you had followed them outside. Caleb started to back away, and Zayne cleared his throat, moving to push up his glasses before realizing they weren't there.

"Explain yourselves. Now."

They didn't start talking right away. Instead, they took a step farther away from each other and stood silently.

"I mean it. You two are acting so damn weird. I don't deserve this."

Zayne sighed.

"She's right, Caleb."

Caleb crossed his arms.

"Yeah, I know."

Zayne started speaking first.

"When we first came here, Caleb and I had a conversation. About you."

You didn't say anything, in fear of causing them to change their minds about telling you.

"(Y/N), I was going to let you know that...that I felt a different way about you now than you might've expected. And I told Zayne about it, thinking he would support me."

"Except I found out about the...peculiar ways he chooses to look out for you and protect you. And I let him know that I strongly disapprove of his intentions."

Caleb glared at Zayne once more, and you shushed him when you saw that he was opening his mouth to fuss at Zayne.

"You follow me around to classes and stuff right? I figured. And I'm now guessing that was you in the bushes earlier?"

Zayne raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need you to watch over me like a hawk, Caleb. I am a grown up, a grown woman. And I can take care of myself."

His head lowered slightly, a hand meeting his neck to rub it awkwardly.

"I know it comes from an honest place in your heart, but I need you to stop. And..."

You hesitantly reached out to touch his arm.

"I'm sorry, but you're like my brother. I love you...in that way. Do you still want to be around me?"

Caleb sighed, laying a hand over top of yours.

"You can't get rid of me that easily. I will always be around. In whatever way you want, pipsqueak." Caleb flashed you a sad smile.

You let out a nervous chuckle, glad to see that he took it at least somewhat well. Never in your life would you have expected Caleb to have a crush on you. But you knew you didn't want to lose him, no matter what.

"Zayne..." Caleb said, turning away from you and letting his hand fall away, "I'm sorry, man."

"It's alright. I look forward to moving past this with you."

Caleb nodded without speaking, and then he walked away. You decided you wouldn't call out for him since he seemed like he needed some time alone.

That just left you with Zayne and the awkward space between you.

"Zayne..." you began.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something now?"

A glimmer of hope could be felt, deep within the pit of your stomach. You couldn't stop thinking about something Zayne had said a few moments ago, and though this might not be the best time, you figured it was as good a time as any. If Caleb could do it, so could you.

"Anything. And for what it's worth, I am sorry too. Our behavior was inexcusable."

"What exactly did you mean earlier? When you said he wanted me all to himself? I thought you were upset with him because he chose to look out for me in unique ways."

The edges of Zayne's ears turned red, and he placed a hand against his chin, refusing to look directly at you.

"Were you...jealous, too?"

Zayne remained still and quiet, not sure what to say next.

"Because I really like you. I have for a long time. And no, I know what you're thinking...I am not just saying that because of what happened tonight. Actually it kind of inspired me to tell you."

Something suddenly caused your eye to water. You rubbed it hurriedly, then pulled your hand away to see a trail of moisture run down your thumb. But not long passed before you figured out what it was, a white speck falling in front of your field of vision giving it away as it landed on your outstretched hand.

"I wouldn't call it jealousy but..."

You shivered slightly as the snowflakes turned into a small flurry.

"I knew he wasn't right for you. And...one can have hopes."

~

[sturniololuvz]

I literally love your writing sm!! Can you do one where it takes place in their Italy vlog and reader and Nate are dating and just a day in their life, and paparazzi spots them outside of the hotel? No rush!!!

Yesss!!! i love this !

“Love & Laughs in Milan”

Sturniolos + nate x sister

warnings : none

Introduction:

The Sturniolo Triplets, their younger sister Y/N, and their best friend Nate were in Milan, Italy, for one of the biggest trips of their lives. Prada had invited them to attend a fashion show, and they were documenting every moment of their adventure for a vlog. But between the breathtaking sights, the chaos of traveling, and unexpected paparazzi, things were about to get very interesting—especially for Y/N and Nate.

8:30 AM – Hotel Room Chaos

The camera turned on, shaking slightly before focusing on Matt, who was still lying in bed, his eyes half-open.

“Good morning, vlog,” Matt mumbled, voice raspy from sleep. “It’s way too early, and I don’t know why we agreed to wake up at this time.”

Chris groaned from across the room. “We’re in Italy, bro. You gotta get up and appreciate the culture or whatever.”

Nick, holding the camera, turned it towards Y/N, who was sitting at the small hotel vanity, fixing her hair. “And here we have Y/N, our lovely little sister, who is definitely not a morning person.”

Y/N shot him a glare through the mirror. “I swear to God, Nick, if you shove that camera in my face one more time before I finish getting ready—”

“ANYWAY!” Nick laughed, cutting her off. “We have a busy day ahead of us. Fashion show later, sightseeing now, and—oh—Nate’s finally awake!”

The camera panned to Nate, who had just walked out of his room, hair a mess, rubbing his eyes. “Dude, what time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch,” Chris joked, throwing a pillow at him.

Y/N chuckled, walking over and handing Nate a coffee. “Here, before you get bullied into oblivion.”

“My savior,” Nate sighed dramatically, taking a sip. He shot her a grateful smile, which she returned—totally unaware that Matt, Nick, and Chris had all exchanged knowing looks.

11:00 AM – Exploring Milan

The group wandered the bustling streets of Milan, their laughter filling the air as they passed by cafes and boutique stores. Y/N was holding Nate’s hand as they strolled together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They were surrounded by the city’s rich culture, but despite all the beauty, there was only one person she wanted to focus on—Nate.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Y/N said, looking at Nate with a playful grin. “It feels like a dream.”

Nate leaned in closer, dropping his voice. “Well, lucky for you, I’m your personal tour guide.”

“Ha! Sure you are,” Y/N teased, rolling her eyes. “Let’s see how good your ‘guiding’ is when we get lost.”

Chris and Matt, walking behind them, exchanged smirks. “They’re so obvious,” Chris muttered under his breath.

“Dude, they’re practically glued together,” Matt added, chuckling.

Nick, who was filming everything, turned the camera to the triplets and whispered loudly, “You guys do realize Y/N and Nate are way past the “just friends” stage, right?”

The brothers laughed, but Y/N heard the comment and shot them a look over her shoulder. “Shut up, Nick,” she called, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed,” Nick smirked, zooming in on her face. “The world’s gonna know soon enough.”

Before Y/N could respond, Nate wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close with a laugh. “Ignore them,” he whispered in her ear.

Y/N smiled up at him, feeling her cheeks warm. “I am. But I’m not going to let them mess with me.”

1:30 PM – Outside the Hotel

After a fun day of sightseeing, the group made their way back to the hotel, where the vlog continued.

As they stepped outside the lobby, the noise of the city hit them—honking cars, chatter from the crowd, and the distant rumble of trains. But suddenly, the sounds of clicking cameras cut through it all.

Y/N froze, eyes widening. Nate’s hand instinctively found hers, squeezing it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Matt muttered, his eyes darting around.

Out of nowhere, a few paparazzi cameras flashed in their direction, catching the group off guard.

“Y/N! Are you and Nate dating?” one of the photographers called out, snapping pictures rapidly.

Y/N’s heart raced as she instinctively moved closer to Nate, the flashes overwhelming her for a second. She could feel Nate’s protective presence beside her. He looked unfazed, but Y/N could see the slight tension in his jaw.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” another photographer shouted.

“Are the triplets okay with this?”

Y/N turned her head sharply toward her brothers, her eyes wide. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Can we just go inside?”

“We might have to deal with this for a bit,” Nate said, his voice calm but firm. He turned to the triplets, who were already standing guard in front of Y/N.

“Yeah,” Nick said, grinning. “We’re used to it by now, but you’re right—this is next level.”

Chris smirked. “But, hey, at least they finally noticed you guys. You two have been lowkey dating for months, and now the world knows.”

Y/N shot him a glare, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said, trying to laugh it off, but her nerves were clearly showing. “This isn’t how I wanted people to find out.”

Nate squeezed her hand, his voice gentle. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think this would happen today.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I mean, you’re right—it’s just… a lot.”

Suddenly, the paparazzi’s questions got louder, the flashes more frequent. “Is Nate the reason you’re here in Milan, Y/N?”

“What’s your relationship with the Sturniolo triplets like?”

Feeling the heat of the spotlight, Y/N took a deep breath, looking at her brothers. Then, she turned to Nate, giving him a soft but confident smile. “I’m not hiding anything,” she said, louder now, so the photographers could hear. “Yes, I’m dating Nate. And yes, my brothers know. And if you really want to know about us, just ask us directly.”

For a moment, the flash of cameras stopped, and the photographers quieted down. It was rare to see someone in the spotlight speak up like that. Nate smiled proudly at her, giving her hand another squeeze.

Matt, Nick, and Chris stepped forward protectively, their usual playful demeanor gone. “She’s right,” Matt said with a shrug. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Yeah,” Nick added, flashing a grin. “So keep your questions respectful, alright?”

After a few more minutes of flashing cameras and reporters shouting questions, the paparazzi slowly backed off, realizing that Y/N and Nate weren’t going to give them any juicy gossip.

As they finally entered the hotel, Y/N sighed in relief, turning to Nate. “That was… wild.”

Nate chuckled, pulling her closer. “I’ll protect you from the chaos, babe. But you handled that like a pro.”

Y/N smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. I guess we’ll just have to get used to this.”

“Looks like it,” Chris said with a wink. “But hey, at least it makes for good content.”

Everyone laughed, the tension finally breaking as the elevator doors closed behind them. The group made their way back to their rooms, ready for more adventures in Milan—but now, with the paparazzi and their secrets out in the open.

End of Vlog Day

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Sweetheart

Steve Rogers x Reader feat. Avengers

Summary: A simple game slowly leads to a lifetime.

Warnings: a few swear words, some very hot scenes, fluffity fluff, mutual pining, mentions of nomad Steve specifically his hair and beard (yes! that's a warning), reader wearing Steve's hoodie (also a warning, gets me every time, and yes I did write a whole fic about it Hoodie)

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I wrote this with a female reader in mind but I think it works for any gender, there are no pronouns used and no use of Y/n, Steve calls reader sweetheart.

Everyone was drinking and having a good time. Tony remembered something he had seen earlier in the day and decided now was the best time to bring it up.

"Y-You know it's weird how fasc-cinated the public is with us" He slurred, waving his scotch around and spilling it slightly.

"How's that, Tones?" You questioned while blinking abnormally fast.

"I saw a-a thhhing on my phone, said vote on each 'venger's best look"

"Like Nat's 'I'm gonna kill you so bad' look?"

"No, ap-pearanceses"

"Ooooh, that's kinda strange, isn't it?"

"What?" Stephen asked as he flung his head up, only hearing the word 'strange'.

"Not you, Dr Otter" You and Tony replied at the same time followed by a small exclamation of acknowledgement.

"It's like a quiz" Tony continued.

"What?" Clint asked.

"The thing I was just talking about"

"Oh, right. A quiz?"

"Yeah, wanna do it?"

"I don't know, I'm not good on tests"

"It's not- It's opinions, not right or wrong"

"Okay, shoot"

Tony cast his phone to the large TV in front of everyone and started the quiz.

"What is the le-legendary genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark himself, 's best look?" He read off the screen.

"You always look pretty much the same" Nat stated.

"First one, little scruffy" Steve said simply.

"Yeah, his hair's cute when it's floppy, like you could run a hand through it and it'd still look adorable" You agreed.

"Adorable? Drunk you is pretty honest, this is gonna be fun" Tony smirked "Natasha Romanoff, the fierce woman of the avengers"

"Oh God" She sighed.

"The half red half blonde, super cute, especially in a braid" You smiled at her.

"I'd have to agree" Bruce added.

"Next, The God of Thunder and long hair, what's Thor's best look?"

"Ooh, the short one!" You exclaimed.

"How dare you?! That was not consensual!" Thor boomed.

"Sorry sweetie, but you've got to admit, it was hot"

"Pfft!" Loki laughed out.

"Did you just go pfft? You don't pfft" Bruce turned to him.

"My brother is not that hot"

"I think Happy's shirt would beg to differ" You counter.

"What about your mug?"

"I don't know what you are referring to"

"The mug that has 'This meeting would be a lot better if one of you were Loki' written across it"

"Oh, that mug. That and Happy's shirt were gag gifts from Tony, like Cap's Cap cap"

"Pardon?"

"Tony got Steve a cap with his Captain America logo on it, so it's Cap's Cap cap"

"You mortals are pointlessly confusing"

"Alright next question, speaking of Gods, Loki the God of Mischief and sexiness has great hair as everyone knows but what look suits him best?"

"I am beginning to like this quiz after all"

"Christmas tree" Nat states blankly.

"I am not beginning to like this. What do you mean Christmas tree?!"

"In New York, your hair had the outline of a Christmas tree. Don't look at me like that, they put tinsel in it" She points to you and Sam.

"ThAt WaS yOu?!"

"He dared me!"

"You said dare me to put tinsel in Loki's hair, I didn't do shit"

"Until I had the tinsel"

"Well it was already there"

"By the great heavenly kingdom of Valhalla I swear I will-"

"Tony, why don't we just move onto the next question?" Steve tried to diffuse the situation before Loki turned everyone into frogs, again.

"The question we've all been waiting for, the most gorgeous avenger, Bucky Barnes!"

"He's the most gorgeous?" Nat asked, a twinge of jealously in her tone.

"You're way prettier than Bucky" You reassured her.

"Hey?" Bucky lightly hit your arm.

"She is" You shrugged.

"Stevie, who's prettier?" Bucky looked to his friend.

"I don't want to choose between my friends"

"Come on, Captain"

"Uh, um.....neither"

"What?" They both blurted out in shock.

"You are" He said softly as he looked into your eyes.

"Th-thank you" You blushed.

"Of course he picked you" Bucky grumbled.

"And last but certainly not least, the very handsome face of the Avengers, Steve Rogers"

"Nomad Steve" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Really?" He asked you.

"Uh-yeah"

"Oh I toootally agree" Sam responded "That slightly long hair, a little unkept"

"And that beard" Bucky agreed.

"And the way he looks like he could just pin you up against a wall and-" You saw everyone looking at you and Steve's face covered in a bright red blush "I'm oversharring again, aren't I?"

"Yes" Bruce said, sitting in the corner, just a little mortified.

"I think that's enough for the night, I'm going to bed" You almost beckon from halfway down the hall already.

You thought that would be the end of the topic, after a while you didn't really think of it at all. Not long after, Steve had to go on a mission and boy did he have a surprise for you when he got back. The mission lasted about a month and you were really beginning to miss him. One evening you opened the door to your room and felt something behind you, someone. They pushed you into your room and slammed the door shut, they spun you around and you saw that it was Steve. You lit up instantly by just seeing his face, he had grown his beard back and his hair was a little messy and longer. Just as you were about to open your mouth to compliment him on the new-old look he pushed you against the wall, no, he pinned you against the wall. He held your wrists tight by your sides, you saw the look of desire in his dark clouded eyes. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, moving fiercely and hastily, full of passion and lust. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip lightly, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The sound almost making him drop his tough exterior.

"This what you wanted?" His voice was deep and rough, making your body quiver.

"God yes" You breathed out shakily.

He transferred his grip on your wrists to your waist. He lifted you like you were nothing, like you weighed less than a feather. You wrapped your legs around his hips and grasped his neck in your hands, clinging on and keeping him close. He held you up against the wall as he continued kissing you roughly, deeply. You could feel your stomach aching, your whole body was aching, for him. He could feel the heat radiating off you as he trail open mouthed kisses down your jaw and it was addictive. You tilted your head back and to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He found that soft spot under your ear that made you moan so sweetly and his lips latched on. He sucked and bit marks that were sure to turn bright purple and he ran his tongue back over the spot gently, soothing your inflamed skin.

He kept up this pace, kissing and sucking and biting and licking all over your neck and upper chest. You tugged on his hair, rough enough that it made him bite your shoulder, hard. The sensation of his teeth sinking that far into you made you throw your head back even further and let out an almost primal, animalistic moan that just spurred him on all the more.

His fingers dug into your hips, certain to leave bruises you would admire for days. He pulled you off the wall and sat you on your dresser.

"Y-you know" You began, your words near breathy moans at this point "The bed's over there"

"Soon. First I want you on every surface possible"

His tone mixed with his words made your breath hitch, you could've sworn your heart stopped for just a moment. One of his hands came up and ripped your shirt off. He tossed it to the side and you toyed with the hem of his. You pulled it up slowly, running your fingers over the taught muscles of his body. You pulled the shirt over his head and when his hands returned to you they were on your thighs. His lips flew down your neck and to your chest. He kissed every inch of you within his reach, the feel of him all over you, hot and wet. He undid the top button of your pants and lifted you again. Your hands moved from his neck and discarded your pants on the floor. He carried you to the couch and laid you down. He hovered over you and you scrambled for his belt.

"Uh uh, not yet" The teasing in his tone made you squirm under him.

"Well that's not very fair is it?"

"Life's not fair sweetheart"

He continued his mission, his mouth was all over you. He moved down the couch, sitting between your legs. It was quite a sight, Steve Rogers, Captain America, America's golden boy, situated between your legs, looking up at you with the gaze of a starved animal. He took one of your legs, started at your ankle and kissed his way down. The contrast between your silky smooth skin and his rough scratchy beard made you grateful to be alive. He moved tantalisingly slow, never breaking eye contact for a second. It was like your eyes were tethered to stare at each other forever and you wouldn't have it any other way. You looked down past your heaving chest to see your knee slung over his shoulder. His chest was pressed up into the back of your thigh, pushing your muscles just right. His lips went so low, so close, so far down your inner thigh and he pulled away. The bastard pulled away. You never would have thought he'd be a tease. He did the same to your other leg, starting at the ankle and working his way almost all the way down. He laid down, his shoulders under both of your legs and he got so close. He kissed your lower stomach and he moved down. Finally, you thought. He kissed over the top of your underwear, taking the waist band in his teeth, pulling just a few inches away and releasing it, flicking against your body. He pulled even further away, devastating you.

"Steve" You whined "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Watch out or I'll have to put that dirty mouth of yours to good use"

"Please do"

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating through you and sending shivers down your spine. You kissed him again, this time soft and sweet, full of the love you had been hiding for so long.

He pulled away and stared down at you, at your beautiful face. He meant what he said that day, he thought you were beautiful, so beautiful it hurt. It hurt when he saw you get all dressed up for galas and charity events in those fancy clothes that fit your body so well. Or when you'd go out to clubs with Nat and Sam, those two always dragged you out, trying to get you to meet someone but you were never interested. For so long it had only been Steve. Wearing something outrageously short for the '40s like Steve was used to, but you looked amazing, you looked amazing in anything. He remembered the first time you trained together and you wore skin tight workout gear, he barely made it through the hour. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was when you had just woken up. When your hair was all messy and your eyes were only half open. You'd say good morning in a raspy voice full of sleep and you'd smile at him so softly he thought he'd melt. All he wanted was to see that smile and hear that voice every morning for the rest of his life. One day was just, he didn't know quite what. It was an oddly chilly morning for that time of year and all of your winter clothes were packed away. You looked through the freshly washed laundry you had done the day before and you found a blue hoodie, it looked so comfortable and soft and most importantly warm. You pulled it on over your head and it fell halfway down your thighs, just covering the pyjama shorts you were wearing. You walked down the hall and into the kitchen like you did every morning. You greeted Steve and he greeted you back before noticing what you were wearing. It looked like you were wearing his hoodie, only his hoodie, nothing else. He blinked for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak but not knowing what to say. You reached up to grab a mug off the top shelf and the hoodie rose up. He didn't want to look, no that was a lie, he thought he shouldn't look but he couldn't help himself. When he was met with the sight of your shorts you could say he was more than a little disappointed. You turned around and saw him staring at you.

"What?" You laughed "I can't have something in my teeth, I haven't eaten yet"

"I-is that my hoodie?"

"Oh, that's who. I'm sorry, it was in my laundry and I was cold. I can give it back"

"No you look nice. Nice and warm" He only just caught and corrected himself.

"Thanks"

He didn't know it yet but ever since that day, whenever you were feeling sad you wore his hoodie and it comforted you more than anything else.

He brought himself out of his memory haze and back to now, to you. He saw you looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Sweetheart, you've been so good, it's time for your reward"

He picked you up and you latched onto him once again. This time he finally took you to the bed. He laid you down so soft and gentle like he was handling something so precious, he was. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and his finger trailed down your cheekbone. His hand moved back to cradle your head and his thumb caressed your cheek so lovingly. His usually innocent blue eyes stared into yours, boring into your soul. The two of you truly connected, in a way neither of you had with anyone else, only each other.

You woke up the next morning, in his arms. You couldn't believe you were finally where you had dreamed of being for so long. In fact you actually pinched yourself, just to be sure. You couldn't help but smile even brighter when you looked back up to see him looking down at you. This was one of those moments you'd experienced so many times before. It took you completely out of the moment and you noticed just how pretty he really was. His eyes, full of so much hope and joy matched with pain and sadness. His eyes, full of time, years of time and he wanted to spent the rest of it with you. He laid on his back, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. His right hand was snaked around your waist, even in his sleep his grip never faltered. You laid on your left side, your cheek on his chest, snuggled up to him. Your right hand was laying across his body, tracing random patterns slowly.

"Morning" There it was, there was that sweet, soft, raspy voice he had longed for.

"Morning sweetheart"

You giggled slightly at the pet name, your pet name. He called you that because to him, that's what you were. You were so sweet he thought he'd get a cavity. You always did whatever you could for others, sometimes they knew and sometimes they didn't. Like the way you helped Bucky. When he first came to the tower he only had Steve, Tony was still upset with him and after hearing what had just transpired the rest of the team weren't very welcoming. But you were different. You trusted Steve's judgement and you welcomed Bucky. He stayed in Steve's room for a while, still too scared to be alone in a tower full of people who didn't much care for him. You decided the best way to get to know Bucky and hopefully help him was to get to know him in a setting he felt comfortable in. You brought a sleeping bag to Steve's room and explained your thinking. Bucky was offered the bed and the couch but he still chose the floor, so you joined him. Steve was in his room with the door open and you and Bucky were in the small living room attached. He was by Steve's door and you kept you distance, trying not to crowd him by sleeping on the other side of the room. He curled up and faced away from you. You heard him gasp for air as he came out of a nightmare. You slowly approached him and took his flesh hand in both of yours. You were gentle but your grasp was firm, reassuring him that he wasn't in his nightmare. Steve got up and came to the door but you shook your head and he stepped back. He trusted you too and he knew that you had a lot of experience with nightmares, you helped him after all. You slept with Bucky on Steve's floor for a month, until Bucky was ready to go to his own room. You slept on his floor for the first night, then you returned to your own room, next door. Sharing a wall, you were able to hear when he had a nightmare and you always came and sat with him like you did that first night. Thankfully, after some time, the nightmares were a rare occasion for him.

Steve loved how you cared for his friend, for everyone. He was the only one who noticed the small things you did. One of the simplest but kindest being whenever you would go to the grocery store you would buy a box of pop-tarts, a dozen plums, a bag of decaf coffee and a punnet of blueberries. Pop-tarts for Thor because he ate them at an alarming rate, plums for Bucky of course, decaf coffee because it always worried you how much coffee Tony drank, so you would replace it with decaf whenever you had the chance, and blueberries also for Tony, he liked having a snack while he worked and they distracted from the coffee.

There were other little things you'd do that just made Steve fall for you even more. If someone had a tough mission you'd cook their favourite meal for dinner, perfectly, and if their suit was torn you'd sew it up. They didn't ask you to or expect you to but you'd just take it and return it to them, fully mended and cleaned. Whenever you noticed his pencils were getting short or his sketchbook was getting full you'd go to the little store that had the supplies he liked. You wouldn't make a fuss about it, you usually just left a book and a box of pencils on his bedside table. And God, did he love to draw you. The first time he tried he obsessed over it, wanting the sketch to be as perfect as you. After a while it became almost mindless, if he didn't know what to draw he'd find himself drawing you.

He looked down at you now, lying in his arms with a huge smile on your face.

"I love you" It just slipped out, he meant it, he did love you but he didn't want to scare you off. He panicked for a moment when you didn't respond.

"I love you too"

He sighed a huge breath of relief "You know you're everything to me, right?"

"I do now"

You brought your hand up to his cheek, you thumb ghosted over his lips.

"You call me sweetheart"

"I do"

"Why?"

"Because you're so kind and giving, you always put the team first and you're well, sweet. Like with the pop-tarts and plums"

"You're the reason"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your face when I got you a sketchbook or when I got Bucky plums, you know, small things. I saw the way you looked at me or at least the way I hoped you looked at me and I wanted to see that look again"

"Really?"

"Why else do you think we have plum pies every other week? Or enough Pop-tarts to feed an army, or I guess Thor for a couple weeks"

"You did that just to see me happy when I was watching you?"

"Yeah" You said nervously, hoping he wouldn't think you were quite as pathetic as you felt.

"God, I love you"

He pulled you into a kiss and you could feel his smile against your lips.

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