#i just saw that there's a new one i haven't seen yet
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hils79 · 22 hours ago
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Hils Watches Matz Travel Vlog - Part 1
It's been a very weird weekend.
I went to Manchester to visit my sister and it's the first time I've been back since I saw Ateez there a couple of weeks ago. Post-concert bues is definitely a thing, but I wasn't prepared for how hard being back would hit me emotionally. As soon as I got off the train the arena was right there. But there were no Atinys giving away freebies and no general buzz of anticipation and excitement.
I hopped on a tram and saw that the lunar new year lanterns that Wooyoung posed with were still up. Then I went past a bunch of the shops and restaurants we visited while we were there and I legit started tearing up.
I'm sure at least part of it was because shark week and general tiredness but I wasn't expecting to get so emotional over the whole experience.
And then while I was away, going back to the topic of this post, the Matz travel vlog dropped but I couldn't watch it because it's over an hour long and I was visiting family.
But I'm home now and ready to watch it. And because I need somewhere to scream about all my feelings I've decided to make this your problem and liveblog it.
I haven't been fussed about avoiding spoilers so I've seen a few screenshots and gifs but nothing major.
So lets accompany Hongjoong and Seonghwa on a trip to the Star Wars wedding location in Italy. I'm sure this won't be romantic and ridiculous at all.
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FFS even the opening credits look like an old married couple's honeymoon home video
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Hongjoong making sure we all know Seonghwa isn't late for their date
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This is just reminding me of when @storkmuffin was doing commentary on the lego live and said Hongjoong kept praising himself. Yes, baby, you are very good at toast.
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Seonghwa hasn't even sat down yet and Hongjoong is making sure he gets his coffee
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Sweetie, you look like you were carved out of marble by Michaelangelo himself
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You can tell from Hongjoong's amused smile that he is used to this nonsense
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Orders coffee for Seonghwa without prompting. I'm fine.
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I'm not going to dwell too much on their relationship with food because it honestly just makes me sad.
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Aww Hongjoong saying he prefers to be around other people and he gets sad when he has to work in his studio alone. I remember him saying something similar on Fromm a few months back. I think they were flying somewhere as a group after some time off during which Hongjoong had done a bunch of solo projects. He was saying it was nice to be at the airport with the others instead of just by himself.
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Oh, good. I thought Seonghwa was going to skip breakfast after saying he ate a lot the night before.
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Haha! Seonghwa accidentally put sugar on his eggs.
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Hongjoong admitting he did some research on where they could go for the day. We all knew!
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This is the opposite of the Lego live where Hongjoong was like 'I didn't wear my glasses because I thought you'd wear yours'
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Hongjoong really isn't a morning person. And it's not even that early. He said they'd arranged to meet at 10am
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Oh we have noticed!
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Hongjoong be like 'I'm happy to just watch you do your thing'
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JFC Seonghwa
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Apparently you're not allowed to say YouTube on a YouTube video
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God, are they like this all the time? Just kidding I know they are.
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Poor Hongjoong is stressed already and they haven't even got to the train station yet
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This is honestly so fascinating. I imagine most of the time their staff arranges everything they want to do for them so they don't have to worry about things like standing on a train for an hour because there's no seats.
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Just like me when I'm travelling, especially in a country where English isn't the main language.
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It's funny because when we did our Ateez trip we had one extrovert who was always 'I'll just ask someone' and two introverts who were like 'we can look it up on our phones/figure it out without speaking to someone'
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And yet you still look great
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Aww! Seonghwa being able to relax because Hongjoong has planned everything. I can relate. Usually I'm the one doing the planning and organising so when I don't have to it's great.
Oops apparently I'm at the image limit already and I've only watched 20 mins of this. Oh well, see you in a bit for part 2!
Part 2
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randomthefox · 3 days ago
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Omfg. Ya know what, I now believe you when you accuse these IDW stans of being cultists.
I was scrolling through some of your posts the other day and found this one talking about this Kotytang dude on YouTube, and I believe you now. Flynn and Stanley are just brainwashing these people to believe that the comics are good and the games are bad.
I was watching his reviews on the comic issues and let out a long tired sigh when he began to see Surge as his Waifu. but then I saw his posts. One that made me very angry was him saying: "A major problem that I have with Sonic x Shadow Generations is that we have no reason at all to believe that Maria has a genuine connection to Shadow."
Is he fucking serious? The more I scrolled through his comment sections the more I realized that you were right. He has NOTHING good to say about the games.
These people don't like Sonic, so they change Sonic into what THEY want him to BE. And sadly, Flynn and Stanley's asses do the same thing. hence why so many "fans" love these comics.
I fucking PRAY that IDW Sonic will burn and crash and die soon, because I can't take this shit anymore.
Sometimes I do engage in hyperbole. But nothing I ever say about Sonic comics fans is hyperbole or exaggeration.
If you think a single thing that I have ever said about Sonic comic fans is an exaggeration, then that just means you haven't seen what I've seen.
Fans of the Sonic IDW comics would MURDER ME for what I've said about the comic, if they thought they could legally get away with doing so. You think I'm exaggerating? You haven't seen what I've seen. I am being dead serious. And honestly for some of them, it isn't the fear of consequences that's stopping them. It's simply the lack of means.
That's them at their most extreme, their most rabidly cult like. Compared to that, my pointing out the OBJECTIVE FACT that they simply hate the Sonic video game franchise from the bottom of their heart is mild.
The ONLY REASON they like Ian Flynn is because he represents an ideal for them. He is an icon. The "big name fan" who infiltrated the franchise and now he has the keys to the asylum. They GENUINELY AND SINCERELY BELIEVE that Flynn can dictate the canon of the Sonic series, and is slaying the evil dragon of SEGA so that he can turn the franchise into Archie/IDW Sonic The Video Game. Because that's what THEY want to do. They are living vicariously through him.
They sincerely and legitimately resent the video games from the bottom of their heart, they hate everything from them and about them. They have nothing good to say about a single thing that originates from the video games, unless it's something that they claim was "fixed" by the comics and what they enjoy is the comics "version" of it. They derive no joy from the video games. To them, the video games are an albatross. A ball and chain. And yet at the same time, they want to coopt it and turn the video games into what they think the franchise should be i.e. the comics.
It's like they're so insecure and resentful of the fact that their stupid comics owe their existence to the video games that the only way they can cope is by constructing these delusional fantasies of destroying the video games and rebuilding them into interactive representations of the comic books. I don't even know what mental illness you fucking call that. I don't know what else to call that besides pure religious fanaticism.
It's going to be so fucking funny when IDW Publishing finally goes out of business and the comic fucking dies because of that, and everything from them is immediately forgotten about and never even acknowledged again. There'll be some cope for a little bit after it happens, some frothing at the mouth that a new comic publisher can just pick up the license and take over where IDW left off or that SEGA can just self publish the comic themselves, or that it just means the games are going to start adapting the storylines and cast of the comics. They'll deny reality for quite a long time. And it will be insufferable. But it will also be hilarious.
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celtrist · 3 months ago
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Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet
#Celtrist#cel rambles#I don't particularly care how abundant the merch is on shark robot#It literally feels like they'll take a scrap of anything and make it a pin#Like the Moxie Antartica pin Really sir and a bunch others where they're just a random frame from the show#I mean they're FUN frames at least but I swear I've seen some real random ones that don't even make sense to be a pin#AND I'M SORRY WHY DO THEY HAVE SO MUCH MERCH OF CHARACTERS THAT I CAN'T IMAGINE BEING THOUGHT TWICE ABOUT#Sallie Mae fine I can see why people like her and want merch#Chaz is pushing it especially seeing as he's pretty dead but fine I suppose he has his fans#Glitz and Glam? Okay you already fucked up not going with their beta designs but who really was looking at them and thinking “I want merch”#But fine. I'm sure they have their fans#BUT FREAKING MUFFY?? THE VET RECEPTIONIST? WHO TF WAS ASKING FOR A PIN OF HER? DID YOU EVEN KNOW HER NAME?#They do that shit all the time and it aggravates me. They seem to go by a “quantity over quality” thing.#Which their quality is great btw but the quantity of things they have for characters that don't even matter and are seen once is rediculous#Also when I was gonna look up when we were gonna meet Vassago I saw he was an overlord in the pilot#Curious if that's gonna stay. What's to say overlords can't be hellborns or goetia#Is he a goetia? Not sure.#P-point is I like their merch and the new batch seems to mostly be uniquely made to be merch and I like that#But the amount of “garbage” (that's mean but best way I can put it) merch that has a character little to no one would care about#Or is essentially JUST a screen grab from the show is annoying and just pointlessly fills the shop pages#And while I see from a business perspective why they'd put Vassago out especially since some already like him#I also just think it's silly for him to already have merch when we haven't seen his character other than in the trailer#Surprised they don't have merch of satan out yet lol#Okay but I would've approved only so they could make a krampus joke with him#Granted I don't care about Helluva as much as Hazbin#But can't help to be more critical of it when it has a lot of problems Hazbin has aside from pacing#But absolutely NO excuse or leeway for the reason of the sloppy writing that's present#Lemme reiterate my good ol' phrase here:#You're not in the Sonic fandom for like 22 yrs and don't learn to be critical of the media you enjoy lol#rant
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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago
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Homecoming
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen x Reader} You haven't seen your husband since your passionate wedding night, leaving you to doubt his love. Now, three months later, you're round with child and missing him more than ever—until he suddenly returns.
♡♡ This is purely just to get all my daddy Daemon feelings out, I 100% believe he has a breeding kink. ♡♡
3.2k words - Warnings: smut, major breeding kink, slow sex, so so so much fluff, a little bit of angst and Daemon apologizing in bed...
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@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer
@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke
@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep
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It was another quiet night, in a bed far too large for one. The wind was gently blowing through the curtains, bringing with it a cool breeze and the smell of the sea. It was late, and everyone was asleep, yet you laid awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
You rolled over onto your side, the silk of the sheets sliding against your bare skin. These days, sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tried. If it wasn't your thoughts keeping you up, it was your changing body and the ever growing life inside of you.
Three months ago you had gotten married to the prince Daemon, a dream of many girls across the kingdom. But your marriage was hardly that. The day after the ceremony you woke up in an empty bed, and hadn't seen your husband since, leaving you to wonder if you had done something wrong.
He had left you no letter, no message. Nothing. Only the memory of your wedding night, the way he touched and kissed you, his sweet whispers of adoration as he made you his. On the loneliest days you would close your eyes and remember it all, his lips on yours, the way his fingers caressed you, the feel of him inside you.
You place your hand on the small bump of your stomach, a smile spreading across your lips. Although it had only been one night, he did his duty and you were pregnant. A piece of him was always with you.
But it wasn't enough.
You longed to see him again, to touch him and be held by him, to tell him of the life growing within you. You wanted so desperately to be with him, but instead you were left with the ghost of his love, a memory that wasn't enough to fill the hole in your heart.
You sighed, trying to push away those thoughts, and attempted to fall asleep, but every time you closed your eyes all you could see was his handsome face. You opened them again and sat up, staring into the darkness.
You could see the light of a torch through the cracks of the door, and the sound of footsteps. You knew exactly who it was, the guard outside your door. His shift was almost over, and soon a new one would be out there, watching over you. There was a muffled conversation, and the sound of someone walking away.
A few moments later the door cracked open, and the torch light poured into the room. Your eyes squinted at the sudden brightness, and as the person entered the room they shut the door.
You were about to give your guard a kindly lecture on waking you up when you noticed that it wasn't the guard who had walked in, but a hooded man. You opened your mouth to call for help, but before you could get a sound out he was at your bedside, his hand covering your mouth.
"Don't scream, my love, it's me." He whispered.
You blinked at the voice, your mind taking a second to process what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you reached for his hand. He took it away from your mouth and intertwined your fingers together, his other hand pulling down his hood.
"Daemon." You breathed, looking up at his face.
The torchlight casted a warm glow on his handsome features, highlighting his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, hanging past his shoulders, his eyes were dark and clever, looking you over with admiration.
You pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. He let out a sigh, a sound that sounded almost pained, and returned your kiss. Then you harshly pushed him away, hitting his chest.
"Where have you been?" You demanded.
"I had matters to attend to." He told you.
"Three months!" You cried. "Three months I waited for you, and you were doing what?"
He smiled and pulled off his cloak, his eyes raking over your form. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.
You wanted to be angry with him, you really did, but the look he was giving you, like he was starved, melted away your resolve. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.
"Asshole," You whispered.
"My love." He whispered back, leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. You were angry, yes, but seeing him now made all of that fade away. Your ire could wait until the morning.
His lips were gentle and loving, and you were so happy that you had almost forgotten that he had been gone. He kneeled on the bed and pulled you close, his hands cupping your cheeks.
When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling and breathing hard.
"I thought you left me," You admitted, your hands gripping his wrists, as though you could keep him there forever by holding on to him.
He hummed, his nose nuzzling against yours and you pressed yourself closer to him, trying to get as much contact as possible.
His large, warm hands moved down to the swell of your stomach. He placed his palms flat against the bump and leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Did the maesters tell you?" You asked, placing your hands over his.
He nodded, his eyes lifting up to meet yours. "How are you feeling?" He asked, with such gentle kindness that it made your heart melt.
"Big." You answered, laughing slightly. "I can't wear any of my old clothes, and I have to have new ones made all the time. And the way the ladies look at me when I go out..."
He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him, his thumbs caressing your skin. It was true that you had changed since the wedding, your body swelling with his child. You were nervous about how he would react, but the softness in his eyes and the way he touched you told you otherwise.
"I wish I could have told you the news myself, it's a shame you had to hear it from some crusty old maester," you said.
"It is a wonderful thing to return home too," he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.
He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, your fingers weaving through his long, silver hair. You could feel his lips turn up against yours, and you both pulled away.
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your features, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands trailed down your sides, sending a wave of heat through you.
"My prince," you said softly, your fingers brushing along his cheekbone. "We've already made a baby. You don't have to do this."
He laughed, and shook his head, a look in his eyes you couldn't decipher. "I forget just how innocent you are," he said, his hands trailing down to your thighs.
“Well, whose fault is that?” You teased, smiling up at your handsome husband.
You sucked in a breath as he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin.
"It's true, I've been away for too long, my lady wife has forgotten what it is I crave," he breathed against your skin, his lips finding yours once more.
Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, feeling his muscles. He pulled back slightly and tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.
"You have gotten bigger as well," you said, running your hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles.
He smirked, a cocky gleam in his eyes. "Oh?"
"It suits you," you said, a playful smile on your lips.
His hand came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingers caressing your jaw. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.
"And you are more beautiful than the day we wed," he said, his voice husky.
"My prince flatters me." You breathed, a blush rising on your cheeks.
His eyes went to the ties on your nightdress, a row of pretty little bows that went down to the valley of your breasts. He tugged at one of the ribbons, the fabric becoming loose.
He pushed it aside and his hand moved up to caress your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple, causing you to gasp.
"Still as sensitive." He said, a smirk on his lips.
He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before gently biting down. You tugged hard on his hair, your legs kicking and squirming as he continued to play with you.
"Daemon," you moaned.
He hummed, the vibration causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. He let go of your nipple, and his mouth moved lower, placing hot kisses along your skin, his hand pushing up your night dress.
"Perhaps a bit more sensitive." He commented, his hand brushing along your thigh.
He hooked a finger into the waistband of your small clothes and pulled them off. You were now naked, your body on full display for him, and he leaned back and admired his work. His hand on the swell of your belly, his thumb tracing over a stretch mark.
"Beautiful." He said, a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.
You looked away, suddenly shy. You had only spent one night with him, and now he was here again. His touch, his words, they all still had an affect on you, making your stomach flutter and heart race.
He leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your bump, his hand resting on the side of it, his lips trailing lower. You smiled softly, and ran your fingers through his hair, the silver strands smooth between your fingers.
His hand came to rest on your thighs, gently coaxing your legs open. You watched as he positioned himself between them, his head almost disappearing behind your bump.
His eyes flickered up to yours, and his smirk was all too knowing, causing you to blush and turn away. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out and licking up your slit.
You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. He did it again, this time focusing his attention on that sensitive little spot he introduced to you on your wedding night. He placed a soft kiss on it, his tongue circling it.
"Dae-ah," you moaned, trying to muffle the sound by pressing a hand over your mouth.
You didn't know if it was the fact that you were pregnant, or maybe that you missed him more than anything, but everything felt different, his touch more intense.
His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, holding you down as his tongue licked and circled you. His mouth moved down and his tongue slid into you, making you arch and cry out. He lapped at your arousal, his tongue going in and out, the sounds he made, the hums and sighs, driving you wild.
He groaned, a sound that vibrated through your entire body, and his tongue went up, swirling around that little spot again, his mouth closing over it.
You moaned his name, your thighs squeezing him, your whole body trembling as your release washed over you.
He placed a few more kisses to the inside of your thighs before rising up, his hair messy and face glistening with you. He wiped his face with his arm and leaned down, his lips capturing yours.
You could taste yourself on him, and you kissed him hard, your hand tangling into his hair, the other reaching down to the ties of his trousers. He helped you undo them, and kicked off his pants.
His hard length sprung free, and you wrapped a hand around it, causing him to let out a shaky moan. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and his eyes locking onto yours.
You slowly started to stroke him, and he let out another moan, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath hot against your skin.
"My love," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand.
You loved the effect you had on him, the control you had. To have the prince of dragonstone, the most dangerous man in the realm, at the palm of your hand, made your heart flutter.
His hand found yours, and he guided it away from his length, a whine leaving your throat. He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss before positioning himself between your legs.
He slowly pushed himself in, causing you both to moan. It hurt a little, just like the first time, but his hands were on your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin, and he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting you adjust.
"My love, I'm not going to break," you said.
He smirked and gave a shallow thrust, a gasp leaving you.
"I can't be too careful with what is mine." He said, leaning down and giving you a heated kiss.
He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up the length of your leg, coming to rest on your bump, his other hand planted next to your head, holding himself up.
He started to move, his length slowly sliding in and out, the pace slow and gentle. You could feel every inch of him, rubbing against that perfect spot. A soft moan left you, and you reached out, your hands on his chest, feeling the hand planes of muscle underneath his skin.
His thumb caressed your belly, his eyes never leaving your face, studying every detail, memorizing each feature. You felt so exposed under his gaze and turned away, your cheeks flushed.
He smiled, a soft, loving smile, and kissed you.
"How I've missed you, my beautiful wife," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
You looked up at him, seeing nothing but love in his eyes. It was the way he had looked at you at your wedding, the two of you standing there in the sept, whispering promises to each other. The world had disappeared around you, and in that moment you were the only people that existed.
He kissed you again, and began moving a little faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room. He groaned, his hand still gently stroking your bump.
"I can't believe such a perfect creature could bear my child," he said, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested.
"Our child," you corrected, giving him a teasing smile.
He hummed, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your waist and helping you into a sitting position. He pulled you onto his lap, and you moaned at the way he was buried deeper inside you.
His lips left open mouth kisses on your shoulders, and his hands rested on your hips, guiding you. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his hands back on your bump as you moved. You knew he liked the feel of it, and he couldn't get enough.
Your name left his lips as you bounced in his lap, his hands cupping your ass, squeezing you. You moaned, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the silver locks. You were growing louder, your body humming, that feeling building within you.
"Not too loud, my love," he whispered. "I do not wish for the guards to hear,"
A moan, that was halfway to a laugh escaped you, and he cut it off with a deep kiss. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, as you kept moving, the feeling of your release building.
"For your lovely sounds are only for me," he continued, his voice in your ear.
You let out another shaky moan, his hands squeezing you. He was moving his hips to meet yours, and you could feel him shaking beneath you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, and pulled you harder, his voice soft yet commanding as he talked you closer to your peak.
Your hands gripped his arms and back, and when he said your name, a deep, low groan that sounded almost pained, you toppled over the edge, falling in a pool of ecstasy. All the pent up emotions and frustration that you had been holding in were released, and you let go of a final moan that you muffle in the crook of his neck.
He followed soon after, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. You clung to him, afraid that he might disappear if you didn't. His arms were wrapped around your middle, cradling you close to him, his lips pressed to your temple.
The two of you breathed in each other's air, a simple shared breath, your foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed. You could feel his lips on your sweat slicked skin, his fingertips still caressing your bump.
When you both had returned to your senses, he gently laid you back on the bed. He leaned down, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours, and peppered your face with little kisses. You smiled and let your eyes flutter open, finding him staring at you, a sweet, lovestruck look in his eye.
He grabbed the blanket, and covered your naked form with it, tucking it around you, almost protectively. He crawled under with you,his head resting against your chest, his hand still protectively cradling the swell of your stomach.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling. He looked up at you, his eyes sleepy, and he pressed a kiss to your bump.
"I hope it's a boy," you said, continuing to stroke his hair. "With the most handsome features, and a true warrior, like his father."
"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing, and his arms wrapping around your waist. "I hope it is a girl, a daughter that looks just like her mother."
He was silent for a moment, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly opened.
"Or perhaps both," he said, his voice serious, a glimmer of something in his eyes.
"Twins?" You laughed. "I don't think I could handle two little dragons running about."
He chuckled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. "I will be here to help you," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I am not going anywhere."
"You better not," you warned, poking his chest. "You've kept me waiting long enough."
He laughed again and caught your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there. He slid his arms back around you, and pulled you close, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing.
You were content, your heart filled with so much love for him, and as his breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, you knew he felt the same. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what was to come. Of a big family, a happy life, and many more nights just like this one. 
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andvys · 26 days ago
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The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ Prologue
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⭐︎ When the sun hits, she’ll be waiting
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, post apocalypse, grumpy!steve x sunshine!reader, gore, blood, mean!steve
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Another patrol. Patrols he's been doing for a whole year, and nothing ever changes. Maybe he had to kill one demodog, or demobat, but overall, it was the same walk, the same stance, the same weariness… only this time, something new appeared in his walk.
Word count: 4.8k
Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I are back with another Steve series, I hope you're as excited as I am, you got a lot of angst, fluff and smut coming your way! And also, shoutout to @ghost-proofbaby who picked the title for this story, thank you my love
series masterlist
☀︎
It was funny. 
He had watched apocalypse movies. He had seen the terrible visual effects done with strawberry syrup, the gelatin that exploded pretending to be brains and flesh, the people becoming zombies and doing loud and stupid moans in their chase. He knew the apocalypse would never look like that, but he also never believed he would live in something very much alike, and not at all a movie.
They had not defeated Vecna. They have killed him, but defeated? No. He is gone but he left behind the world he created, he reached his goal and got what he wanted, something that Steve and the others were very blind to at first, they watched him die; they burned his body to make sure that he was gone for good. They thought they won, but it was a false victory, one that gave them all the opportunity to recover, opportunities that included them trying to become a town again, yet after three months of what they thought was safe, the first demogorgon crawled out of the big gates that were created. Killed instantly. Then another. Then twenty. Then a hundred. Demogorgons, demobats, demodogs, and other upside down creatures... and this time, they came with infectious venom.
Venom that turned people into bloodthirsty, flesh eating monsters with nothing but death in their eyes, people turned into monsters who became part of Vecna’s army, crawling into homes and houses, spreading way too quickly and unable to be stopped from claiming not only the town but all of the country and soon the whole globe. 
They noticed when it was already too late, when the world was already too far gone and the lives of many were lost and claimed by darkness. 
When the realization started sinking in and he saw, felt the panic, the fear, the desperation, the dread and death, he felt like he was going to lose himself, knowing that the world he once knew was gone and never to be brought back again, that it was all lost and someday to be forgotten but a feeling he hadn’t noticed yet was acceptance. 
Because if anyone knew how to adapt, then it was him. Unlike many others, he had no home that he lost, he never had one in the first place. His parents' house was only ever a big lonely space that he never found comfort in until his friends filled that space with warmth and laughter, laughter that still echoes in his ears whenever he thinks of simpler times, laughter that he thinks he will never hear again. 
The house is now even emptier and colder than before, claimed by vines, dust and spider webs, just like most of the houses in Hawkins are… or the rest of the world. He passed familiar houses before, Dustin’s home and Lucas’s, he only glanced at them, not bearing to look longer, not wanting to feel, not wanting to look back at what he lost. 
The gun in his hand feels light, nothing like it used to feel the first few times he had to hold one or use one. His footsteps are barely audible as he walks through the empty cul-de-sac, eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed, he is on high alert, he always is, even when he doesn’t have to. 
He feels relaxed, despite the circumstances, despite the death that could be waiting around any corner, he feels relaxed. He walks past the abandoned cars and houses, watching out for any creature that could come crawling out from any hole. A lone plushie lies on the ground, dirty and splattered with blood – a sight that would have made him sick a year ago, thinking about whose blood it could’ve been, now makes him feel indifference. He had seen so many ugly, disturbing things, nothing truly fazes him anymore, it’s awful and sometimes he wonders if he is still a good person or if the horrors of this world have turned him into a monster as well, if the darkness had claimed him too like it had claimed the sick people. Sometimes he feels pain, sometimes he feels nothing but today he feels a sliver of sadness, one that he swallows down as quickly as it comes, he can’t stand it. 
The sun shines down on him but he barely feels the warmth even though it’s there, the light of it illuminates the empty road ahead of him, the chaos left behind, the rotten grass and the dead flowers, they don’t grow anymore, the birds don’t sing anymore, he wonders if there are even any left in this world, most have died, just like the ones he used to see every day, they have died. 
A soft huff falls from his lips when he notices that the laces on his boots have come undone, he stops walking and looks around, making sure that nothing and nobody will creep up on him the moment he kneels down, he would be surprised if something like that still happened around here though. Hawkins is empty of people and monsters, it was only the doorway for them to get through to get to the rest of the world, this place is just as abandoned as the houses are. 
The houses where his friends used to live. Where Lucas used to live. Dustin. The Wheelers. The Byers. That home that was lived in by other people last year. His house. Those remained intact, yet empty and filled with vines, darkness, dust of the memories from those who once lived in there. The only place that got swallowed whole was Forest Hills trailer park. Where Max used to live. Where Eddie used to live.
Placing the gun in his holster, he kneels down and reaches for the undone laces, wasting no second to tie them. His ears pick up on any sound, on the wind that howls through the bushes and the trees, through the broken windows, the bells that still hang from the ceilings on the empty porches. His eyes never stay focused on only the task before him, he is always ready to fight, to kill but it’s been a while since he had to use his gun or a machete, or even his bat. 
But today the hairs on his neck stand up for the first time in a while. Goosebumps arise on his skin and he feels it, a presence behind him. Steve swallows harshly, not knowing what to expect the moment he turns around, a demogorgon, a demodog or a sick one. He ties the knot on his boot, tightly. 
Unlike a few months before, he no longer feels fear whenever he is about to stare evil in it’s eyes, he no longer dreads it, he no longer feels his heart skipping or racing, he feels nothing anymore. 
He reaches for his gun and jumps to his feet, raising his arm and the gun, turning on his heel and aiming at the presence that lingered behind him, the one that would have normally lunged at him by now but it’s not a creature staring back at him nor is it a sick person, a sick person wouldn’t raise her arms up in surrender or step back in fear. 
“Hang on! I’m not bitten! I’m alive, I’m still alive!” Your voice is panicked, your eyes are too. 
Steve’s jaw is clenched, his eyes move up and down your body, taking in the state of your clothes first, no holes or tears in them, they are clean – clean for the end of the world. Your hair is tied, hanging down your shoulders in two braids, there are knives tucked into your belt and a gun in your thigh holster that you have no intent to reach for. He eyes your exposed skin, where your flannel had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a wound, not a bite, not a scratch, only a cut that he can’t help but wonder how it got there or why. 
“Turning takes days,” Steve murmurs as he tears his gaze away from you for a second to scan the area around you two, who knows what you had dragged here or who. 
“I can sing Madonna for you?” 
He rolls his eyes as he looks back at you, for someone armed with knives and a glock 17 strapped to her thigh, you sure do look like a frightened cat, ready to run. You are not a threat. He knows it; he sees it; he feels it. He knows danger; you aren’t that. 
“You’re not bitten?” He asks as he lowers his gun, letting you relax again. 
You shake your head, though you can still see the hesitance in his eyes, the mistrust. 
“Do I–” you start innocently, blushing already as you look at the man before you, “do I need to get naked? If so, I’d prefer a woman, if that is possible.”
Steve’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly, ignoring the heat that rises in his cheeks. He puts his gun back in his holster. 
“Fuck, no, no… I believe you, what– what are you doing in the middle of Hawkins?” 
He sees the way your shoulders relax, the way you take a deep breath in and then out, lowering your arms to your sides. 
“I was in a small camp, a few towns away, and I’m trying to get to my old home… though, I got a bit lost cause a bat ripped my map out of my hands…” You frown. 
“Demobat.” 
You tilt your head to the side, furrowing your brows, “what?” 
Steve scrunches his nose up, shaking his head at himself, he keeps forgetting. 
“Nevermind.”
Your head is still tilted, your brows still furrowed, you look him up and down, no words fall from your lips, for a moment you are quiet. 
He grows a little flustered beneath your gaze, not that he would ever admit, you are just the first stranger he had encountered in a while, a stranger who creeped up on him. 
“You’re not very attentive.” 
Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. 
“You only noticed me when I was already too close.”
He wants to laugh… a little. 
“Sounds like you were up to no good,” Steve retorts, glaring at you to which your eyes only widen, filled with yet more panic. You open your mouth and close it again, a few times, the shock not letting you speak but when you do, you stutter and shake your head. 
“No! Oh my god! I’m just saying – listen, I want no trouble, I’m just passing through, I just want to go home.”
Steve can’t help but be a bit amused by the panic and the fear in your eyes. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you!” 
If laughing hadn’t become such a strange thing to him these days, he would do it now, yeah, he would chuckle, he would laugh loudly. 
“That’s funny,” he mumbles under his breath, looking you up and down one more time before he turns on his heels and continues his journey down the road. His boots hit the gravel roughly, footsteps echoing through the empty streets, it only takes three seconds before a second pair joins, just like he had suspected. 
“Wait!”
You catch up with him quickly, walking beside him now. He feels your eyes on him but he doesn’t turn to look. 
“Is this a community?”
He wouldn’t call it that, the few people that stayed here all fend for themselves, just like him and his friends do. 
“Not exactly. Would be a very shitty one if anyone could just walk in.”
“Right…” He hears you murmur softly. “Are you passing through?”
“No.”
“Do you live here?”
“Yes.” 
“Why?”
Steve rolls his eyes, side-eying you. He is not very talkative anymore, he finds no joy in holding conversations, let alone in answering questions, he barely uses his voice nowadays, he doesn’t feel bad about it, or even guilty. Normally he would keep quiet or even snap at whoever is bothering him, today he can’t find it in himself to be mean… meaner. 
“Cause it’s my hometown. Why are you by yourself?” Steve asks without looking at you. 
“I left my last camp cause I want to go home, like I said before–”
“I know, I mean why are you traveling by yourself? It’s not safe out here, especially not for women.” Steve rounds the corner, inching closer to the only house that has a light peeking through the boards on the windows. 
“It’s not safe for anyone out here, not just for women,” you correct him, looking at him in surprise when he opens the gate to the backyard before you and lets you walk in first. “But I haven’t seen many people since I left the camp,” You mumble and look down at your converse, that look very dirty in comparison to his black boots. 
You stand before him now, close, a little too close for a stranger, though he makes no move to put more distance between you. He sees the wound on your shoulder clearer now, a cut caused by either a knife or glass. 
You tilt your head up again, you are close enough to see his face now properly, the color of his eyes, hazel. Freckles and moles kiss his skin, his features are soft, his expression isn’t. His brown hair is very… voluminous, his beard is trimmed, he looks clean and he doesn’t smell, a rarity nowadays. He is tall, his shoulders are wide, he is certainly much stronger too, his biceps strain against his black shirt, and it only now dawns on you that you followed a man to what you presume is his home, you followed with no hesitation. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat and take a step back. He had shown no interest in you, he doesn’t seem fond of you following him either. He is just as much of a threat as you are, you tell yourself. 
“So er… is it just you here?” You ask, looking at the house he stopped by, the house you presume is his home, his fortress. 
“No.”
You nod, pursing your lips as you look into his cold eyes but he quickly breaks eye contact and starts walking again. 
“Where is everyone and how many people are here?” You ask as you continue on following him, staring at the back of his head, his mullet looks good, taken care of, you notice. “Also this town lacks security, you should have bigger gates--”
Steve turns on his heel, sighing loudly as he glares down at you, not even moving back when you almost bump into him. 
“Will you shut up for a second!?” He grumbles, glaring at you again as he stares you down. 
You press your lips together, gazing up into his dark eyes, not breaking eye contact. The look on his face should intimidate you, the cold eyes should scare you, he should scare you but he doesn’t. 
“Have any monsters gotten in yet and if so, have you ever fought any? I ran into a dog like creature the other day, that fucker nearly bit my hand off, I–”
Two seconds. You shut up for two fucking seconds. 
“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, raising his hand up, he runs his fingers through his hair, his annoyance doesn’t faze you in the slightest, you open your mouth again, ready to ask another question but someone else beats you to it. 
“Well, what do we have here?” 
You instantly press your lips together, throwing your hand to your holster as you snap your head to look towards the gate and at the person who cut you off, startled by his presence, you take a step closer to the stranger you just met as you eye the man with the long hair, who is looking at you with a smile on his face. His eyes are kind, much kinder than the ones of the man beside you. He is holding a box, a gun is secured and tucked into his belt. 
“Who’s this lovely lady, Harrington?” He asks, not stepping closer yet. 
Harrington. 
You don’t even notice the girl beside him until she clears her throat, offering you a small smile. Her hair is long and curly too, her bangs cover her eyes a little, a rifle is strapped over her shoulder. 
“Someone passing through,” Harrington grumbles under his breath, clearly wanting you to keep passing through. “She’ll be on her way now.”
It’s getting dark now, it’s not safe to continue your travel when the sun sets. You planned to find shelter when you stepped foot into this town, maybe find some cans of food in one of the abandoned houses. 
The girl meets your eyes, hesitating, she shakes her head. 
“Oh, it’s getting dark, besides she could use a bath, Steve.” The girl says, frowning as she looks you up and down. 
Offended, you scrunch your nose up and look down at yourself, “hey, I do my best in any possible lake!” You argue, despite the surprise in you. Every group, every community you have come across before, did not offer baths or shelter, not after your pleading, at least. 
“She has to go to her hometown–”
“All alone?” The girl asks, frowning at the man – at Steve, beside you. She glances at the one next to her, they share the same look in their eyes. You wonder if they are siblings. 
“Yes, all alone.” Steve sighs. 
They look at him in disappointment. 
He doesn’t want you here. 
It’s nothing you aren’t used to. 
You’re on your own, you always have been. Though you can’t remember the last time you had a proper shower, a real meal or a night full of sleep. You don’t know how to hunt, you wash yourself in lakes and you never sleep through the night, no matter how safe you think you are, you can’t sleep. You can’t even remember the last time you felt fully rested, not even the communities that provided you shelter gave you that real feeling of safety. 
You don’t know these people, the man beside you and the pair before you, but the kind blue eyes and the chocolate brown ones are different from any of the ones you have looked into before – you can feel the indifference from Steve, he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t trust you. 
“I-It’s fine, I was just passing through,” you shrug, offering a smile, despite the weird feeling in your stomach. “Do you… maybe have a map for me though?”
“Yeah,” Steve instantly speaks up, clearly wanting to get rid of you quickly. 
She crosses her arms over her chest, ignoring your question, she glares at Steve, “did she ask to stay?” 
Steve clenches his jaw, glaring back at her with an icy cold stare. 
“We can’t afford another mouth to feed–” 
The guy with the curly hair steps forward with a sigh, approaching Steve with a stubborn look on his face, “I’m keeping her.” 
Steve scrunches his face up, scoffing at his friend, “she’s not a fucking puppy!” 
Though he doesn’t listen to him and turns towards you, nudging his head at you, motioning for you to follow him as he goes to open the door to the house, “come on, we’re gonna eat dinner soon, we’re making stew. And you can get cleaned up if you want, Nancy will give you some clean clothes.”
You want to follow badly, the mention of food, of a warm meal makes your mouth water, and you wouldn’t say no to a shower and fresh clothes either but Steve’s unwelcoming expression makes you hesitate. 
He is looking down at the ground, his jaw tense, his eyes unimpressed. 
The girl, Nancy, she is looking at him still, waiting for him to look at her too but he doesn’t. There is something in her eyes that you can’t read, the same look that resides in his own. 
With a sigh, she looks away and starts walking towards you after closing the gate behind her. She can see the hesitation on your face. 
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, we’re leaving soon too–”
“We are not,” Steve says harshly, nearly making you flinch. 
“We are.” Nancy argues, her brows are pulled together, her lips curl downwards. 
She is certainly more intimidating than he is. 
“You can stay for the night, like Eddie said, we’ll have dinner and you can get cleaned up, tomorrow you can be on your way with the map you have asked for, but it’s getting dark now – so, you’re staying.” 
“Okay.”
It’s funny, normally that would have been a warning sign for you to run. People aren’t usually so persistent for you to stay and if they are, you never stay long enough to find out what evilness they have planned for you. Usually you aren’t so trusting, but her kind blue eyes make it hard not to. 
Finding kindness in this world is a rarity nowadays, you wonder if these people ever encountered real danger – not the creatures, or the sick people but humans, you found out that those can be much worse, evil. You figure that they haven’t, otherwise they wouldn’t be so trusting towards you, even Steve, he didn’t ask you to take your weapons off of you, didn’t tell you to hand them over, he just let you follow, and his friends open the door to their home for you, they let you inside, he does too. 
You have a growing suspicion that they don’t really know the world they live in now, they haven’t seen past this untouched town, they haven’t seen what people are capable of, how cruel and evil they can be, because if they did, you would not be welcome here, not so easily, no matter how harmless you seem to them. 
But the kindness you are greeted with today encourages the hope that never died inside of you. 
Hope that died in him a long time ago. 
Hope that will die in you just like it did in him. 
He watches you closely, the way you look around the house the three of them have stayed in for the past year, you throw your backpack to the ground, leaving it abandoned by the stairs. You eye the radio station in the living room, curiosity lingers in your eyes, he notices how your fingers twitch but you don’t touch it, you draw back from it when you catch him staring at you like a hawk – he almost feels bad when you shy away. 
You turn your back to him and look at the bookshelf, tilting your head to the side. 
Steve should stop it, the staring, but he can’t, he doesn’t know why, you are not a threat, he doesn’t need to watch you but he keeps doing it, slowly following you through the house like you are his prey. 
You are the first stranger to enter this house, the first and the only. Every person who stumbled upon this ghost town was turned and scared away by him. He doesn’t know why he let you inside, Eddie and Nancy wouldn’t be able to keep you here, no matter how persistent and stubborn they had been. If they didn’t want you here, you would have been long gone and not walking around the house. 
But something about you makes him mad.
Maybe it’s the way you so easily fit in, or maybe it’s the way you fall for Eddie’s charm and giggle at every attempt of his to make you smile, maybe it’s the way you get along with Nancy right away, Nancy who is usually distrusting of anyone she doesn’t know, or maybe it’s the way you look at him when you sit across from him during dinner, the golden light from the fireplace touching your soft skin. Your eyes are big and innocent, the air around you is too, like you had been untouched by the horrors of this world, like nothing ever happened to you, like you didn’t lose anything or anyone, like the world didn’t even scratch the surface of you. 
He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know anything about you but he knows what you are – a naive and stupid girl, one that throws herself into danger, the cut on your shoulder and the scars on your upper arm are proof of that, you won’t survive long, people like you never do. 
He stares into your eyes and you stare back, eyeing him while Eddie talks your ear off, who is happy to have someone new to talk with, considering he is stuck with people who aren’t the most talkative. 
You blink, holding his gaze for a while. 
You are trouble, the kind that he wants to stay away from, the kind he needs to stay away from. 
And yet he finds himself knocking on the bathroom door to give you the toiletries and the clothes that Nancy had prepared for you after dinner. He is huffing loudly when he hears you singing, or humming. The only person he ever heard hum in a shower nowadays was Eddie, and he did it just to be an obnoxious prick. You, you are just happy, and who the hell is happy nowadays with how the world is? A psychopath. You are a fucking psychopath.
“One sec!” Your voice was sweet as the water is turned off, and soon after, the door is opening and his eyes are everywhere. You are wrapped in a towel, holding it tightly on your chest where the edge is tucked in. Your wet hair falling down your shoulders, the droplets all over your skin, and you have a stupid smile on your face. That snaps him out from the trance of staring at you more than he should. He blames it on not meeting another woman in a while. The only one in this ‘community’ of his age is Nancy, and she and him made it clear that whatever happened when Vecna was alive, that it was purely out of adrenaline and the need to be or feel cared for by someone in that moment.
“Have your stuff. Remember to give the clothes back before you leave tomorrow.” He extends his arms towards you, the body cream on top of the clothes, making you gasp as your arms shoot to take them from him, your eyes stuck on the white bottle.
“Oh god… thank you… I can’t– I can’t thank you enough–”
“Not me. Nancy and Eddie. I wanted you gone, still want you gone.” His eyes are looking away from you, down the hall as he speaks. He is harsh and he knows it, but there is a limit on water usage in the community, and you just used a ton. Which makes him think that Nancy and Eddie are being serious on leaving, not caring for the limits any longer. 
Your eyes look up, catching onto the patch of freckles and moles on his neck, as well as a very prominent scar. As if he had been choked by some rope, going all the way around. You were hurt by his words, but yet, this guy is being mean, and wants to kick you out, and he is standing in front of you handing you body cream and clothes, when he could have refused. He could have shot you and defy his friends. He could have been pushier.
And so your hope doesn’t die.
“I’ll thank them later… but yet, thank you, as well.” You persist and he grumbles something under his breath, his head turning to look at you one last time. Hopefully, the last time he sees it before he wakes up tomorrow. 
“Have a safe trip tomorrow.” And with that, he walks down the hall and towards his room, slowly closing the door behind him. Robin is going to kill him. Letting a random girl inside the house. Eddie and Nancy were out of their minds. Everyone was, except him. Hopefully.
He hears murmurs between you and Nancy in the hallway, giggles that disappear as you two disappear into Nancy’s room. She is letting you sleep on the bed with her. What the fuck was Nance thinking? You are a stranger… A stranger who seemed harmless enough, a stranger who looked… tired. Like the only thing you wanted to do was sleep, and sleep, and sleep. 
He might be over-exaggerating with how he is treating you, but can anyone blame him for it?
His eyes move towards a scarf on his bed frame, his fingers caressing the hand-knitted mustard colored cotton between his fingers. He hears Eddie whistling as he goes into his room and his anger bubbles up inside of him again.
He isn’t leaving this town. It is a stupid idea to do so. It is reckless. It is also going against the community’s rules. He isn’t going to leave. He can’t leave Robin behind, and Eddie and Nancy know she won’t be coming along.
He won’t leave the last thing that is keeping him alive.
690 notes · View notes
mrslestappen · 9 months ago
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Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16
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summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.
pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader
tags: fluff + angst?, caring charles (tiny bit) + comfort, bad thoughts.
# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]
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Everything feels unreal. You're watching the mechanics work in the garage, and the only thing you can think is: has red always been such a pretty color?
It was the first race of the season, and you didn't have much to do yet, they told you that you just needed to make sure that Charles did everything that they asked him to do, and that was easy, thanks to him.
“Have you seen my notebook?" Charles asks as he looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of the tiny notebook somewhere, you let out a chuckle, grab your purse from the floor and give him what he needs. 
“How is it that you always have everything I need?” he took the notebook from your hands and opened it “I try my best” he gave you a knowing look.
Charles still remembers the first time he saw you at the Ferrari headquarters in Maranello, you had just signed your contract with them and he had just been told that he had a new assistant. 
You were quite awkward and a bit clumsy when he first struck up a conversation with you. He learned that this was your first job, and he made a mental note to make you feel welcome, and also he didn't want you to leave him like the others. 
He tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible before the season started, he was patient and generally nice, which was what you really needed at that moment. 
When you made your first mistake and didn't tell Charles that he was supposed to be in a meeting, he took the blame and told Fred that it was his fault. 
You thought he would be angry, but he just said "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes" and in that moment you thank the angels for making him such a nice person. 
"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc" 
"None of that, we are a team you and I, if you ever need help just come to me." 
That was a month ago when you were still new and walking on eggshells trying not to make any mistakes, luckily you got better after all your final grade depended on it. 
"Have you eaten today?" Charles asks, handing his notebook back to you, just needed to check something he thought he should comment on the car in the next meeting they will have. 
"I haven't, but I was about to do so," you told him as you walked out of the garage with him beside you, trying your best not to look at him to see his face, which probably had a disappointed look on it. 
"I thought you said you already ate." 
"I did." 
"What did you have?" 
"Coffee," you mumble softly as you enter the Ferrari hospitality, "that's not food y/n," he scolds you again, you already lose count of how many times he does this.
Charles grabs a plate and starts to put different kinds of fruit on it, "you already ate," he nods, "This is for you," you try to grab the plate out of his hands, but he stretches his arm as high as he can to make sure you don't have a chance to grab it. 
"It's my food, let me grab what I want," he ignores you, grabs your wrist, and walks over to one of the tables. 
He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down, he puts the plate in front of you and sits across from you, motioning for you to start eating, which you do, but not before giving him the meanest look you can.
You take out your phone and play a YouTube video while you eat, it is a bad habit and Charles has told you several times but he still watches with you. 
When you put the phone at the right angle so that you and Charles can see the video without any problems, you notice that he is not watching.
“Mr. Leclerc" you called him but he didn't answer, you sighed softly, you know he heard you. 
"Charlie?" 
"Yes?"
"You have to stop doing that," he tilted his head as if he didn't know what you were saying, "I shouldn't call you that," "Why not?" "Because you're my boss.”
"There's nothing wrong with calling me that, besides it makes me feel old when you call me Mr. Leclerc."
"You are old" 
"I'm twenty-six." 
The look you gave him was enough to make a dramatic gasp come out of his mouth, you were already used to his tactics so you didn't apologize for calling him old. 
When the alarm on your phone went off, you grabbed it and stopped it before it could keep ringing, "Time to go, you have a meeting," you said as you handed him his notebook that he needed for to take notes. 
He gave you a quick thanks, but you grabbed him and raised your hand, he gave you a pout, but you shook your head at that, he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it in your hand, "it was worth the try," he muttered to himself. 
✦ ✦ ✦
While you were waiting for Charles' meeting to end, you took out your laptop and started to finish the assignment you were supposed to send for this month. 
You were quite happy when your professor told you that all you had to do was to send in a report on what you had done, the experience you had gained, and what you had become better at, for your monthly assignment. 
It was a pretty easy assignment since you were traveling around the world and learning things that you didn't even know existed, and since this was your first job, it was easier for you because you were learning a lot of new things. 
“Y/n?" You took your eyes off the computer and looked at the person calling your name, you tilted your head as if to ask if they needed anything but they shook their head and motioned with their hand towards the hospitality door. 
You quickly grab your things and walk to the door to greet your friend, "Did you see what Professor Brown posted in the announcements?" You shake your head and ask, "Is it something important?" "Depends, he wants us to take pictures of what we have been doing lately." 
It didn't sound too bad, if the assignments continued to be like this, you were pretty sure you'd get an easy A. 
"Did you do it?" You ask her, "I did," she nods, "but I came here to tell you because I know sometimes you don't check the announcements," you give her an embarrassed smile, "I'm not that bad," you mutter softly, and she gives you a look, which you shrug off. 
"Well, I'm going back, I'm pretty sure Lando is already out of control again, see you, take care," she gave you a quick hug before walking quickly towards the McLaren hospitality. 
You watched her go and sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket, ready to take some pictures to send with the assignment, "Hey, have you seen Andrea?" You jump a little at the voice next to you, "Don't do that, and yes he’s in your driver's room, are you okay? You've been acting weird since yesterday" you ask him with concern evident in your voice, but he quickly shrugs it off and tells you that he is fine. 
You make a mental note to ask him later. "I'm going to exercise, go to my driver's room if you need anything, okay?" You nod, take his phone out of your purse and hand it to him. 
He quickly says goodbye and walks away before you can say anything else to him, you have noticed that Charles has been acting strange since you arrived in Bahrain. 
You have been meaning to ask him about it, but every time you get the chance he seems to run away, which is so unlike him. 
You snap out of your thoughts and head back into the hospitality area, ready to take some pictures and send off the assignment. 
✦ ✦ ✦
Practice one is about to start and everyone is running around making sure everything is perfect. The only thing that seems not to be here is the driver. 
"Y/n, where is Charles?" Fred asks, you want to shrug your shoulders but then you remember that this is your job, and you should know where he is, you look at him and tell him you're going to get Charles, and he gives you a thumbs up.
You look for Charles everywhere, including his driver's room and the hospitality area. Has he left? You were pretty sure you saw him a few minutes ago.  
How can a person disappear so quickly? you even ask people from other garages and they haven't seen him. 
You tried to call him, but his phone was dead, it didn't even send you to voicemail. 
"Y/n!" You hear someone yell your name and quickly turn your head towards Carlos, he seems out of breath, and you can see his chest rising and falling faster than normal.
"Charles is in my driver's room, I don't know what happened," he said, but that was enough for you to start running towards the Ferrari driver's room. You still shouted a thank you to Carlos and that seemed to have caught the attention of other people who looked at you strangely.
But you did not care about that, you needed it to find Charles and to make sure that he was ready to get into the car. 
You reach the driver's room trying to catch your breath as much as you can, you probably look terrible with hair sticking in your face from how much you've been sweating, you want to kill him for making you suffer like this.
You were now outside Carlos' driver's door and you could hear soft mumbling, was he talking to himself?
You knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer, when you got none you decided to open the door. 
"Charles how can-" you couldn't continue as Charles was lying on the floor with his hands on his head rocking back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, your thoughts of scolding him left you just by seeing him in such a vulnerable state.
You walked as slowly as you could and bent down to his level. You grabbed one of his hands, and that was enough for him to look at you quickly. 
"I'm sorry - I can't, it's going to be like last year," he said quickly, you know from what you heard that last year was not a good one for Charles, the car didn't seem to work for him at all, you didn't know he was that affected by it, and now looking at him you didn't want him to feel that way. 
He's such an amazing person and always so happy and joking with you, but he was hiding a lot of things that had hurt him and you couldn't let that happen.
"Hey, you can do this, okay?" both your hands grab his face and you give him a tiny smile, "I can't..." you shush him and try to get as close to him as you can, were you allowed to hug him? You did not know, but at that moment he probably needed it. 
"Hey, those bad days don't define you, you're amazing and such a talented driver, last year the car wasn't good, let's leave that in the past, okay? This is a new opportunity and you're going to show everyone who Charles is, you're going to make them eat their words, so go and destroy them, champ". 
That seems to make Charles' worries melt away a bit, you told him to take a deep breath with you, and when you felt that he was better you slowly let him go. But that seems to be a wrong move, because when you do, Charles seems to look at you as if you took something away from him, but you ignored it. 
"Okay champ get up, time to make jaws drop with your amazing driving" you joked and you were quite happy because you could see the corner of his mouth move up a bit. 
"Thank you, Mon ange" 
"None of that, we are a team, you and I, remember?" 
He nodded and in that moment he let himself look at you while you smiled at him, he felt as if your smile had the power to melt away his worries leaving behind a feeling of peace, in that moment he was grateful for you, he took a deep breath and let it out, there was nothing to worry about.
He's pretty sure this season will go well with you by his side because you wouldn't leave him, would you?
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Scuderia :: @evie-119 @tempo-rary-fix @spookystitchery @boiohboii @halleest @itsjustkhaos @aphroditeisamilf @vicurious28 @lozzamez3 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @heyheyheyggg @teamnovalak @fakeplastiqtree @michelleyw81 @lillyssh-tposts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kqliie @deliciousfestsalad @biitch-with-wifi @xohollie01 @charlesleclerc2003 @loloekie @elliegrey2803 @steamy-smoker @doesnt-care @delululeclerc @vip-access @theseerbetweenus @haikyuen @arian-directioner @marvelfangirl04 @melagem02 @rach3164 @zucchinimalfoy @scopeiguess @landoslutmeout @reiofsuns2001 @badussybumper @nixily @forevercaffeinated-lee @i-wish-this-was-me @gabys-gabs @entr4p3 @trouble-sistar @thef1diary @puttyly @solo2leo @f1and1d4eva @liliummz
Team radio: I hope you like! it I feel I could have done better but English is not my first language but I will do my best to improve, I will keep practicing and improving my writing every day.
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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.
And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:
Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.
Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.
Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.
Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…
~~~~~
Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.
~~~~
Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…
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thebiggerbear · 6 months ago
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where is she?
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Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader
A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.
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Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)
Word Count: 1019
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy
@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria
@believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch
@bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz
@kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae
You can also read on AO3
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You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”
“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 
“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.
When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.
“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.
Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 
“Ben!” You called. 
Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   
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When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”
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America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.
“It could all be ours, you know.”
“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”
Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.
When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.
“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.
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Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 
“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”
Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”
Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.
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Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”
Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.
He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.
A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”
A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 
When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.
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dividers by @firefly-graphics
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allurilove · 9 months ago
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Yandere Stalker x you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.
*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.
What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?
You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.
I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.
Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?
June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.
Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.
And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.
I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.
I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?
My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.
Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.
What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.
I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.
I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.
I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.
I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.
It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...
"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.
My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"
I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.
"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.
You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.
Why is this oddly arousing?
With one final shove I landed onto my face.
There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.
No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.
Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.
Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.
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senseichaos · 1 year ago
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hi hi! That one-shot you did with Alastor broadcasting his and reader's..."love-making" was rather delicious but I can't help but think of you know..aftercare. It was quite rough and I'd love to see Alastor being sweet and sorta guilty for going so roughly cause we both know...reader was bleeding after😭😭😭
Yess I love writing aftercare and when I saw this I was immediately wanting to write it ! Thank you
"Pathetic" But still a princess,
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Summary: Alastor roughed you up quite badly in your last.. fornication session.. so as to make it a more happy evening he gives you some very much needed aftercare! (Part 2 to "Pathetic")
Genre: Fluff, romance, slight sexual undertones
Warnings: Swearing, blood, Alastor is kinda bipolar considering how much more soft he acts in this compared to the last part, love confessions, lmk if I missed any
NOT EDITED NOR PROOFREAD (YET)
______
Alastor carries you the entire way to his room, not wanting to rough up your brain by teleporting to his room. And oddly he sort of enjoyed the intimacy of it all. It's weird, Alastor is never really one to enjoy intimacy, but this odd time he feels nice giving you this comfort.
As he enters his room, he makes sure to lock the door behind him so no one comes in whilst he bathes you, and with a smile to you walks to his suite. The suite isn't the largest but it's big enough that when he places you on the side of the bath he can walk around you with ease.
"Alastor I think I'm bleeding," You say, looking at some scratches on your thigh as Alastor takes off his overcoat and folds it neatly. He gives you a soft look, placing his coat to the side.
"Well of course you are darling! My fawn had to learn her lesson somehow, hm?" Alastor says with a small chuckle, squatting down (his knees clicking as he does so) to turn on the water of the bath. You roll your eyes, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as you contemplate taking it off.
"Take off your shirt, dear, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Alastor commands with a rather teasing tone, arranging the correct soap to put inside of your bath. You nod, pulling off your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor next to the bath. You almost cover yourself, but understand if you did Alastor would probably tell you off.
After the bath fills a bit Alastor taps the side of the bath, capturing your attention.
"You can get in now, fawn. It should be warm enough," He says, and you give him a small nod. Rather awkwardly with your pained thighs you manage to crawl yourself into the bath, Alastor does end up helping you a bit when you almost faceplant into the water, shifting you so you sit with a weirdly empathetic look for him.
"Now let's not fall on our face, shall we. I'd rather not have you more injured than you are already,"
You giggle, leaning up and squishing his cheek playfully.
"Awe you care about me, that's new," you say, and he takes your hand off of his face with a stern look.
"I wouldn't call it 'new', you just haven't seen it yet," He says, and you give him a confused look as he starts pouring some bubble soap into the bath.
"What haven't I seen?"
He laughs, shaking his head as he begins mixing in the soap with his hand.
"Me caring about you, silly doe," He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his wet hand. This causes you to shake the water off and give him an annoyed look.
"Give me an example,"
He looks up for a moment, thinking of an instance where he's shown care for you.
"Well, how about earlier today when I told you not to drink the tea because it was hot?" He asks, turning the water pressure on the hot water slightly higher. You roll your eyes, pulling your aching knees to your chest as the water around you rises.
"Oh so what, the bare minimum.. how caring of you Alastor,"
"Now don't get pissy with me, dear. I was only giving you an example of my caring for you," He chuckles, giving your nose a soft boop as he continues mixing the water. You notice his sleeve is dangerously close to the water, so you push his hand from the water slowly.
"Careful, you're gonna get your sleeves wet," You say, and Alastor smiles slightly wider.
"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's nothing I can't handle," He says, his green magic surrounding his sleeves and rolling them up to just above his elbows. "You shouldn't have to worry about something so small as my sleeves,"
Your eyes go glossy with tears at the odd affection in his voice. It's something you've never heard from him before. Sure there's the empty compliments, the empty pecks, but this is different. It's as if he loves you.
"Do you really care about me, Alastor?"
Alastor furrows his brows, turning off the hot water tap as the bath is full enough with water. He leans over, pushing his hand against your cheek as he leans there.
"Of course I do, my dear," he pauses, looking into the distance for a moment as if contemplating. "And I do apologize for being so rough with you today, you had to learn your lesson somehow,"
You giggle, pushing his hand away and leaning against the back of the bath.
"It's okay Alastor, I liked it more than I'd like to admit,"
Alastor rolls his eyes at this, grabbing a sponge from the corner of the bath.
"Charming, my fawn," He says, putting his sponge into the water and squeezing it so the soapy water fills it. He begins to scrub you with it, staring with your face as he pushes your hair from your face, holding you there by it.
"Fuck you, as if you didn't enjoy it either!"
He laughs, scrubbing your nose as you scrunch your eyes.
"Well of course I did dear, I wouldn't have initiated it if I hadn't, hm?" Alastor hums, moving to scrub your other cheek. You sputter on a cough, your eyes squinting at the way he scrubs you. He just chuckles, scrubbing your chin and jaw.
"Do you really have to clean the entirety of me?" You ask, biting your lower lip as he tilts your head back by your hair. Alastor continues to scrub your chin, moving to the other side of your jaw.
"Well of course I do, a clean fawn is a happy fawn." He says, pinching your cheek and cooing in a sort of cute fashion. Rolling your eyes you attempt to splash water at him, only for the water to be caught up in his green magic and placed back into the water.
"Now don't try anything silly, fawn,"
You moan in annoyance, hissing when his sponge begins to scrub the raw skin on your neck from the collar he had you in. The skin is bruised and even as a couple cuts from the force he used. You wonder what he thinks about when he looks at the damage. Does he find it funny? Does it feed a possessiveness in him? Does he feel guilty?
"What do you think about when you see the marks on me?" You ask out of the blue, against your better judgement.
Much to your surprise, Alastor just tilts his head in acknowledgement before speaking.
"Hm, well I feel a tad proud, and I feel a tad guilty. But, I also feel like I want to eat you up!" He answers, ending his sentence in a teasing manor. But you don't miss the slight hunger in his eyes at the thought. You narrow your eyes, speaking: "Please don't,"
"Oh I wouldn't, dear. It's just a tad fun to think about," He says with a humor in his voice, and you can't help but laugh. Alastor moves his hand from your hair, placing it on your neck as he pushes your head back with his thumb.
"Bet you'd get your rocks off to it," You chuckle, biting on your cheek uncomfortably as Alastor scrubs the back of your neck. His eyes darken slightly, tilting your head down to get better access to the back of your neck.
"Don't tempt me, fawn," He says softly, pressing the spong to your collarbone to clean the slightly bruised area. Hissing in pain you flinch away from Alastor as his sponge brushes onto a cut. He gives you a sort of stern yet understanding look, reaching out for your arm to pull you closer to him again as soft as possible.
"Sorry my dear, it's going to hurt," Alastor apologizes, setting his hand back onto your neck so he can scrub your shoulders. Once again you hiss when the sponge hits a sensitive area of raw skin, but this time you stay put.
"You know I don't think it's fair that you get to sit outside of the bath.. how are you gonna clean my legs!" You ask, Alastor just humors you with a chuckle.
"Like this,"
He spins you around gently so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bath, dripping water down to the tiled flooring below. He takes a hold of your left ankle and begins scrubbing your foot, causing you to begin giggling at the way he scrubs the ticklish area.
"Ah! That tickles..!" You laugh, clasping your damp hands over your mouth as he continues scrubbing your foot. Alastor doesn't acknowledge you, instead going to scrub down your calf.
"I still think this is unfair, what if I want to clean you!"
"I had a bath this morning, no point in bathing again," He says with an obvious tone. You roll your eyes, looking up at the roof as he continues to clean your left leg.
"Can I at least wash you another time?"
"Maybe If you continue to be steadfast in no longer entering my studio unprompted, fawn," He answers, leaning over you as he finishes your left leg, beginning to clean your stomach.
"I'm bored.." You groan, leaning your head back into the splashback of the bath. Alastor narrows his eyes, and suddenly a tentacle with another sponge appears behind you, pushing you before beginning to clean your back.
"What a needy thing you are,". He says, causing you to huff out in displeasure. To your surprise he leans over you even more, even slightly towering over you as he cleans your breasts. It makes you blush, really. Having him tower over you like this in almost a lascivious manor whilst doing the most domestic of things. He's just cleaning you, for Christ sake!
"Alastor,"
"Hm?"
You wonder. Does he love you? You want to ask it so badly. When he towers over you like this and cleans every crevice of your body does his heart clench? Does his body feel warm? Does he get those butterflies that you do? You wonder.
"Do you love me?"
He stops moving, both him and his tentacle which had started cleaning your lower back.
His eyes reflect a myriad of emotions, many of which you can't even begin to fathom. He seems almost on edge. As if your question had sent him into his brain completely.
"I.. I think I might in my own.." he pauses, placing his pointer finger against his chin in thought. "Immoral ways,"
"Immoral?"
He continues to wash you, along with the tentacle, seeming to have gotten his point across enough to continue what he was doing.
"I'm not a moral demon, dear. When I think of you I want to devour you, but, I also want to hold you,"
Devour you?
"Well, I love you Alastor.."
"I love you too, fawn. Now let's get to cleaning your hair, shall we?"
You groan, pouting in annoyance at the thought of spending another 30 minutes in this bath. Though Alastor just laughs to himself, squeezing your cheek.
"How cute you are when you're all mad at me, hm?"
You stick out your tongue at him.
Normal, well as normal as you can be, once again.
2K notes · View notes
yyokkki · 1 year ago
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The Prefect's Laugh
Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.
First Years x gn! Prefect
Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?
Divider by @saradika
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It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.
The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.
While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).
“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”
“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”
Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.
“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”
“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”
“Pfft-“
Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.
He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’
Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.
Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.
He felt wronged.
And flustered.
…Shit, why are they kinda cute.
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Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.
Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.
“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”
“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”
Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.
“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”
While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…
And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.
“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”
He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.
It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…
They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.
It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.
It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.
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Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.
Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.
Truly the mom and dad of the group.
They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.
It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.
Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.
It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.
“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”
“…Well, we are at the library.”
“I mean at other places too.”
Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.
“Why? You find it weird?”
“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”
They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”
Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?
“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”
Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.
“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”
After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.
"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“
“…”
Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.
…It may be a little too late for him.
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It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.
Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.
It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.
So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.
He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…
That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.
Well shit.
He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.
Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.
He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.
‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.
Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.
Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.
As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.
He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.
First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.
Then they smiled warmly at him.
“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”
Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?
Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.
Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.
The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).
Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.
“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.
But also absolutely effective.
The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.
“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“
He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.
On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.
It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.
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Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.
In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.
All except for art, that is.
Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.
After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.
And he really really needed it.
His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.
“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…
Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.
The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.
Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.
The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.
With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.
An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…
And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.
“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.
“…”
“Human..?”
“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”
“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”
If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.
“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”
The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.
He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.
…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!
3K notes · View notes
woncon · 3 months ago
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➳ sick duty.
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➶ poly!ateez x gn!reader (yungisang focus) 。˚ °
-ˏ` ✎﹏ Yunho is sick, and you and Yeosang are on sick duty. When the others still haven't arrived with jelly, you decide to go to the nearest shop in the raging storm and buy some, because Yunho really wants them.
➴ genre: slice of life, sickfic, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au
: ̗̀➛ warnings: yungisang focus, but everyone gets screen time, poor yunho has a fever, one sexually suggestive offer, petnames, nudity
⌨ :: 3.5K words ♡ ︵ . .
⁀➷ This idea came to me when I saw a double rainbow in early June while listening to Golden Hour Pt1. It was supposed to play in the summer, but I never got to the end. Now autumn came and I decided to write it. But in this rainy, gloomy weather it seemed better to set it in a more autumnal setting. That changed my basic idea a lot, but I'm happy with it as it is.
⁀➷ My lovely @wonsheep, I'm still sorry the rain poured on you so heavily on Wednesday. :( But it was very motivating, as you can see. Many thanks for reading through the story and founding my silly mistakes!
➳ mlist
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I'm hot.
I want tea.
I'm cold.
The sickly season of the autumn-winter months spares no one. Yunho, who is hard to dislodge from whatever well-endowed giraffe's legs he has, is now curled up in the middle of the bed, disconsolate because he didn't pull on a thick enough scarf, or was carelessly underdressed in the living room, or simply spent too much time around a co-worker who has been lurking with some virus. Whichever the case, the poor guy is in a terrible mood.
"I want medicine," he whispers his next wish.
You look at your watch.
“One more hour before you can take the next one,” you say, brushing his hair away to touch his sweat beaded forehead. It's still as warm as underfloor heating.
Frustrated, he rolls to the side and buries his head fully into the pillow. You drop your hands back into your lap, helpless. It's simply exasperating to watch him suffer, to listen to his snotty, ragged breathing mix with the rain beating against the window.
“Do you want something to help?” you ask, when he turns to you again and raises his feverish eyes to you. The skin around his nose is flushed from all the blowing.
“Jelly.”
Yunho is convinced that jelly sweets can help him. Or at least when he's sick, he likes to eat sweets. Other times, not so much. Unfortunately, you guys weren't prepared for Yunho being sick in the near future. Plus, there's a storm brewing, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. It's been raining steadily for a week now, sometimes more, sometimes less. The others went to do the shopping with the car, leaving Yunho behind with the promise to bring him some jelly. He responded with a small, grateful smile.
Now, looking at his tortured expression, you would give a lot to see that smile again, the hope in his eyes. You reach out and take his hand. You sigh. Gently, slowly, you caress the back of his hand, knowing how sensitive he is to touch when he has a fever. You don't want to overdo it and hurt him, but at the same time you want to let him know physically that you're there for him.
"It's on the way." You really hope it is. The last time Jongho called, they were already at the checkout. Your youngest friend boasted that they were bringing five full bags of jelly beans. That was about twenty minutes ago. No news since then. It bothers you that you can't offer an immediate solution to Yunho's every wish.
Before Yunho can ask any more questions, the door opens. Yeosang arrives with a tray holding a steaming mug and something wrapped in napkins that you can't identify yet. With cautious steps, he moves to the other side of the bed among some discarded clothes - because Yunho didn't want to shower this morning, just threw everything off the bed he'd chosen as his regular place - and then takes a seat, placing the tray safely on the bedside table, gently moving Seonghwa's half-finished book.
“I've brought the tea," he says to Yunho. "And I found some biscuits to go with it."
Interested, the patient moves up on the pillow, but still looks vulnerable. Yeosang holds the cup in his hand and gives the man small sips. Meanwhile, you get up and gather up the laundry strewn around the bed and take it to the bathroom. On the way, you hear a conversation emanating from the kitchen, from which you hear the word 'jelly bean' clearly spoken at one point. So after throwing the laundry in the hamper, you go to the kitchen instead of the bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of hot water and tea leaves. Mingi is putting away the tea ingredients. The call is already finished, his phone is on the counter.
Originally, Mingi wouldn’t be on sick duty today. Today's subordinates are you and Yeosang, Mingi just didn't want to leave the apartment in this crazy weather and he’s helping you instead. It's not like this sick duty thing is strict in your relationship, and it's set in stone that Mingi can only nurse Yunho on Mondays and Fridays and holidays or anything. That said, there are rules. For example, Mingi usually only needs one nurse when he gets a cold or something more serious, but at such times it is Yunho for most of the time. Then there's Jongho, who, if he falls ill, no matter what the schedule, has all eight of you at his disposal twenty-four hours a day. Or, again, there's Seonghwa, who hides the fact that he's sick until it's too obvious, and you're all freaking out as to why he won't let you take care of him.
Yunho usually hardly gets sick. When he does, even a mild cold will get him down. And when he is ill, he's even fussier than the sick Wooyoung, and only one lover has a hard time coping with his demands. Usually two people are enough to care for him if there are jelly beans nearby. Which, for now, there aren’t.
“Are they on their way home?” you ask Mingi, who's packing honey. 
"It's worse downtown than here," he says. "The traffic's bad. They're just moving towards home inch by inch."
You both look out of the window, and the tapping of the rain remains as unrelenting as the fever that plagues Yunho.
“Is the tea to his liking?”
“I'm sure of it,” you smile at him. Mingi is usually insecure when it comes to Yunho's well-being. You suspect that the boy's illness was a more significant reason for Mingi to stay home than his desire not to get wet. “But you can ask him.”
You return to the bedroom with Mingi at your side. You remind yourself that this room now functions as a ward. The patient is huddled near the edge of the bed, munching on biscuits soaked in tea, so that they don't scratch his throat.
“It's not jelly,” he mutters, then pulls away from Yeosang and lies back on the upholstered cushions.
You look at Yeosang. Your theory is that you're thinking the exact same thing. If jelly beans are the only thing that helps your boyfriend, you'll do anything to get them. You're even willing to go to the convenience store in the pouring rain, because when you are on sick duty, Yunho mustn't lack anything.
"We'll go and get jelly beans," you say. Yeosang nods his head in commitment.
“We'll go?” Mingi looks terrified. “All of us?”
You can't leave Yunho alone in this state. It's a good thing that Mingi is here, in addition to Yeosang and you, ready for action, and not stuck in traffic with the others downtown. 
“No. You stay here with Yunho and look after him.”
Mingi continues to blink. 
“We'll be quick, don't worry, you don't have to multitask. Yuyu will probably fall asleep soon.”
"It's not me I'm worried about," he protests, "You'll get wet and cold."
"The store is not far away. We won't have enough time in the rain to freeze to death."
Yeosang wraps Yunho in a blanket and kisses him on the head.
"Mingi?" The man folded in a burrito addresses the worried individual.
“Yes?”
“Gimme a hug.”
Mingi doesn't resist, but climbs onto the bed, swapping places with Yeosang, who pats his shoulder as he passes. Before you even leave the room, you hear Mingi apologize and ask for Yunho's forgiveness.
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Yeosang sticks the umbrella out the door. Just a little to test how much it rains. There's really barely any surface out, but the wind immediately grabs it and tugs it further. He pulls it back in time before the umbrella swings out or the wind wins, and you close the door with a great struggle, which also wants to jump off its hinges from the violent gusts of wind.
“I think this will stay here,” Yeosang says, and then drops the solid black umbrella behind you.
You zip up your raincoat. It occurs to you that maybe Mingi is right, and you'll be so wet you'll get stuck in a puddle of icy water. Yet the idea doesn't discourage you, doesn't make you stay, because Yunho needs the jellies.
Yeosang adjusts his hood, then holds out his hand. You embrace him tightly. You check your wallet stashed in the waterproof pocket one last time and place your hand on the doorknob. Then you push it down. The door swings open, and you let it drag you along with it. The back of your coat gets soaked immediately. The rain doesn't fall, it instead pours down from behind in a wave with the wind. Clinging on to Yeosang in vain, it's hard to keep up your own pace and not lurch forward like a rag doll. It's a wonder your boyfriend can close the door.
Although the shop is indeed a block away, at this time it feels like you're wandering for eternity. For one thing, the scenery is completely different in the rain, it's harder to navigate, especially in the raging, commanding wind. Around one corner, Yeosang has to pull you in, because out of nowhere a car appears, its wheels gallantly splashing a full puddle onto the pavement.
Somehow, you do reach the store. As soon as the automatic door closes behind you, the storm is out of the way. Inside, the weather is pleasant. Only the clothes clinging to your skin and the small puddles and mud stains on the floor left by other shoppers are reminders of what a doomsday is happening outside.
“Huh,” you sigh in relief. The first game of the war against weather is over. You only have one more to go to succeed in the jelly bean mission.
“We're crazy," Yeosang shakes his head in disbelief. Then he smiles up at you, sweetly and lovingly, because he's proud you're crazy. You return it.
Insanity is part of sick duty to some extent. Last time San must have used up thirty tissues a day, and ran out in the middle of the week. Hongjoong ran so fast to replace the used-up packets that he was almost hit by a truck. And when you were sick and craving nothing but a mug of hot tomato soup when all the shops were closed and there were no tomatoes at home, only ketchup... Well, Jongho tried.
You purposefully seek out sweets. Luckily, you don't have to wander around and scout the place, you'll often find yourself here. You take off two bags of Yunho's favourite flavour, sour apple. You remember again how pitiful your otherwise healthy and cheerful boyfriend looks.
“This will help him,” Yeosang says encouragingly, as if he's reading your mind.
You nod, then head for the cashier. You get in line. From here, you can see the window and the rain pouring down.
For the first time since the jelly bean plan was born, you have time to think about Mingi's excuse when he cuddled up to Yunho. It's my fault. I'm sorry. But how could it be his fault that Yunho caught a cold?
You're rewinding the previous two weeks. Yunho was in home office the whole time. He really enjoyed it, and when he wasn't working, he was playing video games. He didn't put his foot out until one time when he had to pop down to the shop for something. It didn't rain so heavily that day, just a gentle drizzle. Maybe Mingi had taken off Yunho's blanket one night? It couldn't be, either, because they'd been sleeping far apart lately.
It's your turn, so you suspend your musings. When you get back, you'll ask Mingi and hope it's not too embarrassing for him not to tell you. If he feels guilty, you could help him and reassure him that it's not his fault.
You and Yeosang pay. You put the bags in your coat pockets. You pull the hood up, not that it matters. You cling together again, then step out onto the soggy pavement. 
The way back is harder. This time the wind brings the rain from the front. Each blast smacks you in the face. Neither of your hoods can stay up. Your hair gets wet, the rain drips under your coat. You successfully step into a puddle, literally splashing in the muddy water, and the inside of your boots get soaked. You're wet everywhere, from your elbows to your toes. It's really annoying, but you don't falter, clutching Yeosang's arm until you reach the sheltering door of your home to drop in like two wet rags on the threshold and with a combined effort you shut out the cold, ominous wind. Yeosang slides along the door, his hair leaving a wet streak on the wooden panel.
“We did it,” he sighs, and proudly rattles one of the jelly beans he pulls out of his pocket. The bag is intact, of course.
“We did,” you agree, and pull him up off the ground.
Suddenly you're faced with the problem of not knowing what to take off first because everything is equally soaked. It's almost as if your clothes are the cool part of your skin, plus outer layers. Finally, following your boyfriend's example, you throw your coat on the floor first, then your shoes on the doormat, and socks after.
Before you reach for the next layer of clothing, there is the sound of footsteps. You think Mingi is coming, but when he sighs, you realize it's not your tall lover.
“You guys are adorable and dedicated, but silly at the same time," says Hongjoong with crossed arms.
“But at least Yunho’s jellies will hold out until he heals,” answers Yeosang, taking off his shirt.
“When did you arrive?” you ask.
“About a minute ago. But we'll talk later. Now go take a shower before you too end up feverishly next to Yunho,” Hongjoong advises, then retreats and San steps forward. He unconcealedly runs his eyes over Yeosang's naked torso, and yours, which still has your shirt stuck to it, rather tightly, so it might even be useless.
“If you get sick, I'll be on sick duty every day. The thing is, the adorable, dedicated, silly people are just my type” he winks.
“Move over, Sanie," Wooyoung appears and nudges the other one in the side, "You promised to help hyung pack up.”
San hums and walks away, but still smiles in your direction. You all love to oblige Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and that goes for when there's an opportunity to flirt as well.
“You two are sexy, all wet,” Wooyoung admits. “If you need help with the shower, let me know. I'll be within earshot.”
“We'll consider it,” you promise. Wooyoung nods with a grin, and he also retreats to the kitchen.
You pass through the hallway, but before you can go to the bathroom, Jongho stands in front of you with a plate of jelly beans. “Here. I thought you should be the ones to give it to him. You made a greater sacrifice, and most of us stayed dry. Except for Hwa hyung, who opened the door and held the umbrella.”
“Thank you,” you say at the same time. While Yeosang takes the bowl, you press a kiss on Jongho's cheek.
When you retire to the bedroom, the scene is quite cozy. Yunho is in bed, hugging Mingi, craving jelly beans, and you offer him what he craves most, and what you fought Mother Nature for.
“We got it,” you report.
Yunho snaps his head up. The mere hope brings life to his sick features. You stand by the bed, careful not to get rainwater on it.
“Here, hyung," Yeosang hands the bowl to him in a soft whisper.
“I hope you weren’t too desperate, baby. We hurried as much as we could.”
“You're the best," says Yunho, touched, between bites. “I love you.”
“We love you too, giant baby. Very much,” you assure him.
And he smiles up at you. The mission is a complete success. Whether all that time and getting soaked was enough to put you to bed remains to be seen. In the meantime, you bask in success.
Mingi sneezes. Then he reaches under the pillow and takes out a handkerchief. “My throat may be a tiny bit scratchy.”
“Should we set up someone on sick duty for you too?” Yeosang offers readily.
“Our poor boyfriends,” you sigh, watching them. Yunho in the midst of illness, Mingi as he probably slips into a state of flux.
“I deserve it,” murmurs Mingi, looking ruefully at Yunho.
“Why do you think so?” you ask the question that has been nagging at you for a good twenty minutes.
“When we ran out of milk last week, Yunho and I went to the grocery store... I offered to make out with him in the rain. It didn't rain much, and there was no wind. Still, that's how Yunho got cold.”
"Come on," the other protests hoarsely. He sucks on a jelly bean with great enthusiasm. You wouldn't believe he can taste it. “You offered, I agreed, I could have said no, but I didn't. All in all, it was worth it.”
“Worth it?” Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “You were dying before the jelly arrived.”
"If you haven't kissed Mingi in the rain, you won't understand," he declares, then turns to Mingi. “Want a jelly, princess?
Yeosang and you leave them alone, let them romance each other in the infirmary. Barefoot, you stomp off to the bathroom. You open the door, and a thick, fragrant steam rises from the room. A pleasant warm breeze reminds you how cold you are. You hurry inside. Yeosang closes the door to keep the comforting steam from escaping.
Seonghwa is already drying his hair and got dressed. You look at him expectantly, ready to be reprimanded. But he has no such plans. He takes your face with one hand and Yeosang's with the other. “I am proud of you. Take a bath, then we can watch a movie. We made a whole list while we were stuck in traffic.”
Yeosang hums, you nod in response. Good idea. At this time of year, there's no point in doing anything other than curling up on the sofa together.
You bask in Seonghwa's soft touch until the last moment, and the knowledge that he's proud of you. It's really enjoyable to play good cop, bad cop with Hongjoong, and they don’t scold you twice. Regardless, you need to figure out a way to cheer up that boyfriend of yours who called you adorable, dedicated, and silly all at the same time. 
“So he probably caught it while kissing,” you acknowledge what you've heard by tugging your trousers down after Seonghwa has left you alone.
“Interesting.”
“And understandable. Sounds romantic.”
“Do you want to go back?” Yeosang glances up at you as he pulls towels out of the closet. The look in his eyes is willing. It embarrasses you to know that he would take a single word from you and go back with you into the pouring rain to fulfill that desire.
“I wouldn’t do it in this weather. But, for example, standing in a cool summer drizzle, refreshing after the heat. When me and my partner won’t be so likely to have a fever for a week.”
“Last summer Woo did it with someone. I think it was with Sanie, but I'm not sure. Maybe he caught Hongjoong hyung in a moment of weakness.”
“Really? Is it fashionable to kiss in the rain in our relationship?”
“A bit.” Yeosang undresses completely. 
Your hand is over the laundry basket, you've dropped the last of your clothes in it, yet you don't move. You’re looking at Yeosang. At his naked back, how rainwater is dripping from his hair, onto his delicate muscles. The line of his shoulder blades as his back narrows, ending in the lovely hips you'd hold in your hands for days. And of course you can't neglect his ass or his thighs or his whole being, because once you start looking at him, one part of him is not enough, and the whole of him is overwhelmingly wonderful.
He turns back to you. “Are you coming?”
“Sure.” You follow him into the bath. You take his face in the palm of your hand and kiss him on the lips. “Wooyoung was right.” 
“About what?”
"You're sexy when you're wet," you explain, and at the same time you probably reveal that you were just staring at him.
"He didn't just say that to me, love," he replies, pulling you close. Then he opens the water. The warm, soothing drops fall on your head and drip down your chilled skin. Like rain.
“I have an idea. Let's kiss here like it's raining.”
“Oh,” Yeosang smiles sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek. “Okay.”
And you shower until the hot water runs out.
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mogamuncher · 5 months ago
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Heeey I'm back! It's finally time for the full Cakeverse analysis gang!
Ok, so, for a refresher:
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There's the Forks, the Cakes and the Plates (normal people), and it goes like this:
Plates are just normal people, the majority of the world population, nothing new here.
Forks: Can't taste and sometimes can't smell either, sometimes they used be able to taste but lost it with age; either way, they can only ever taste cakes.
Cakes: Basically normal people except that they're delicious, everything from them (flesh, tears, saliva, etc) tastes like cake (or other foods if you want). You can't tell who's a cake or not unless you're a Fork that's tasting them in some way.
Now, I have to add some stuff that's really interesting and that the og author said, that we'll be getting into today.
• Forks go absolutely bat shit insane when they taste the Cakes most of the time, that can lead to a lot of things, cannibalism, sex, or (if you're cultured) both.
• Both Cakes and Forks suffer from their own societal plights. Cakes die a lot, and Forks when discovered are instantly pinned as murderers, criminals and perverts, even if they haven't done anything wrong yet.
• Cakes can derail a Fork's entire life, and Forks are like sin and temptation to Cakes.
Now, I want to talk about these because they absolutely fucking vexed me and now I want to make this all of y'all's problem.
「The First Taste」
It's essentially a common rule as said by the author that the Forks go insane after feeling the taste of a Cake, now, let's talk about: Why?
See, Cakeverse is technically an Au based from the likes of Omegaverse, which you can see by the structure being similar to Alpha/Beta/Omega with the three types of people out there. But, in ABO the Alphas going insane is due to a specific event, heats, which are there specifically for reproduction and are said to bring out animal instincts out of people's control, while Forks are based on simply taste, food, and not something as biological.
Of course it's up to the individual writer to an extent, but my interpretation of why Forks lose it when they taste Cakes is more psychological when compared to Alphas in the Omegaverse.
Imagine that you are completely unable to see color, never once have you seen one, you grew up hearing all about how wonderful colors are, you saw others compliment the colors of several works of art, you heard all about the colors of the world around you, but all that you see is beige and grey. Now, imagine that one day you bump into someone, and suddenly you're able to see all the colors, for the first time ever in your life, you can finally experience blue skies and green grass, you can see the same way the rest of the world sees, something that was fundamentally missing from you is finally gifted to you by this stranger on a silver tray.
You're finally complete.
That's the reality of what Forks go through, years of eating tasteless food, seeing people enjoy food wholeheartedly and rant about the tastes, hearing about the differences between expensive food and cheap food, and then suddenly finally tasting cake. Of course they go insane and fixate on it, it's like the final puzzle piece finally sliding into place, something that they've been missing this whole time being manifested with only a taste.
Before, eating was a chore, something simply to survive there was no joy in it, no fun to be found in desserts or snacks, but with only a single kiss the Fork finally feels what it is like to crave food, to want food for the taste.
Cakeverse in nature is oddly psychological, playing with the concept of taking away something extremely core to the human experience, taste. It's inherent and everyone has it, you'd probably feel like a freak of nature if you didn't have something while everyone else has, right?
That's what Cakes bring Forks; normalcy, joy and purpose, it's basically like a shot of endorphins all at once straight into your bloodstream, there's a good chance it'd hit like a truck and fuck you up majorly.
Forks acting rashly probably looks different than when Alphas do the same, because the motive is inherently different, but the desperation is arguably more raw.
A lot can be written on what that reaction would be:
Immediately trying to taste the Cake (kissing, licking, biting), trying to play cool only to strike later (potential kidnapping, manipulation, planning and scheming in general), the Fork can try to resist temptation or maybe the Cake can notice the extreme reaction and run away, maybe the Cake can instigate and bait the Fork to take a bite.
It could lead to fluff, to relationships starting, relationships ending, it could smut, it could be gory cannibalism, hell, it could be both.
Either way, the sheer amount of character study that could be made out of this tidbit alone is insane, and the story concepts don't stop there!
「We Do, In Fact, Live In a Society」
Cakes don't know who they are until it's too late, but I can imagine that in society they'd be treated with a lot of extra care if they are known beforehand, as they are constantly in risk of dying.
Imagine that they'd also be majorly babyfied, the "nooo poor babies that can't do anything wrong, poor helpless and weak Cakes, they clearly can't take care of themselves, they're so vulnerable, don't worry I'll speak for you to protect your honor" would be insane. Any Cake that consensually and willingly gets with a Fork will be doubted if they truly wanted to do it, think nosy people pulling them aside to ask if they're ok and pressing to see if they're abused, think people immediately thinking that Cakes can't consent to anything with a Fork on principle despite them being grown adults.
Online discourse would definitely have people saying "Cakes are minor coded" or some shit, mark my words.
While Forks would be instantly persecuted for everything. Because of something they didn't choose, that was inherited at birth, they now are fully seem as murderers, kidnappers, rapists and just the lowest of the low. People will gossip, people will get defensive, people will cower any time you slightly raise your voice, you're seen as a predator, treated no different than a wild bear. To society at large, you're an unruly dog, and all eyes will be on you forever, watching, waiting for the day that you take a bite.
In a sense, it's almost like any Forks that do commit crimes instantly have a justification to do so, it's expected, really, you're a Fork, of course you'd snap one day. It's both maligned and normalized, everyone expects it and it almost gives Forks a reason to do so. Forever a self fulfilling prophecy.
Now I'm sorry that I'll keep bringing the Omegaverse up, it's just that it's really handy for comparison, but I find it fascinating that in a way, the societal effects of this are a mish mesh of the societal views seen in ABO, but like, in a way that doesn't make me want to vomit.
Can I be so fr with you guys right now? I don't like the societal parts of the Omegaverse, ever since I was a kid in the early hay days of the internet, that always made me uncomfortable, and it's also a bit lazy in a way. The problems in society with the Omegaverse are basically just Sexism, it's misogyny with mpreg, and a lot of fics end up feeling like a Handmaiden's Tale with mpreg. Replace Alphas with men and Omegas with Women and you get the Omegaverse, though it gets a bit interesting since there technically is a built-in "fuck or die" and aphrodisiac system with heats/ruts, but very few writers do something interesting with it.
My problem is that it's always either uncomfortable or outright boring, very little fics do it well and most of the time authors simply choose to side step it altogether, which I completely understand and actually prefer at this point.
I bring all this up because Cakeverse actually brings a lot of interesting concepts up in it's consequences on the world at large, the nature of Forks and Cakes mirrors a lot of real life concepts, but leaves enough fantastical elements that there's still intrigue in what could be explored and seem from authors writing certain details of it.
Would there be Cake support groups? Would there be Fork rights activists? Would there be people who are both Forks and Cakes, like a hybrid type? What are different relationship types seen as in the eyes of society as a whole?
It's all so complicated and the problems are different between the both of them, also, they're evenly split, which is a breath of fresh air.
Now, it's time to get even deeper into this, what are exactly Forks and Cakes relationship with each other like?
「Would You Still Love Me If I Was Cake?」
According to the author, Cakes can derail a Fork's life and Forks are temptation to Cakes. Now, why is that?
Imagine you're a Fork, living your life trying to do what you can with what's been handed to you, probably being discriminated against if you haven't been able to hide it well, when suddenly you taste someone (kiss or by accident, like a shared water bottle), and next thing you know you lose your mind. Your entire world falls apart, thoughts of dreams, future, your own sense of morality, it all melts away like sugar in water because you just experienced heaven and now it's all you can think about.
Someone completely normal beforehand, suddenly driven to obsession with just one moment, an entire life detailed into the unknown because they just had a taste of cake, thoughts being all about one person and their taste, the inability to stop even you're desperate to do so. It's madness, and almost like a tragedy, doomed by their own personal narrative of Fork meets Cake, the Forks turns into a starving beast whether they want to or not.
But Cakes? Imagine you have someone you love, and they want you so badly it drives them mad, imagine kissing the same lips that want to be stained with your taste, imagine putting yourself in the way of jaws that any of these days can close down on you and swallow you whole. You're constantly in contact with someone that could just straight up eat you, consume you whole and leave nothing behind, but your heart aches for them, you present yourself in a silver platter again and again.
Maybe you want to be eaten, to be consumed. Maybe you like being wanted, maybe you enjoy providing something to to others, you made them so happy that it doesn't even matter to you that they are taking chunks out of you, you'll gladly let yourself be torn apart if it means someone else is satisfied.
It's all about the usage of "Cannibalism as a Metaphor for Love™", it's all about loving someone but constantly wanting to eat them into non-existence, it's about to struggle between your brain heart and stomach.
It's about having your cake and eating it too.
The themes, the metaphors, the opportunities are endless and frankly I'm driving myself insane just imagining all of it, the angst also would be utterly fucking insane, imagine you live someone and you eat them, wouldn't you be upset? You loved them and you killed them yourself, with your own hands, their taste is on your lips and you licked your plate clean.
I'm screaming and crying and throwing up as we speak, the number of things you can do here are endless, soooo. . . Let's talk about some of my ideas!
「All My Fanfiction Titles Are Just Songs」
Last post I basically tagged a bunch of fandoms that I wish would use this trope (I'll also be doing that with this post), so now I'm going to showing some of the ideas I had for this AU that I might or might not write in the future, all of which you guys are totally free to use as prompts as well (just tag me on them lmao)
So, going ship by ship:
「Loveit」: Dead Plate fanfic, Vincent x Rody, Fork!Vincent and Cake!Rody. I imagine that the moment Vincent finds out is during the Best Served Hot ending, after biting Rody's ear, his reaction would show instantly on his face and Rody would notice right away. After that it can lead to a lot of things, fighting, smut and cannibalism galore, their relationship would only get more complicated after such a discovery. Hell, you can even have Vincent find out earlier, if you truly want more juicy drama, maybe Vincent will attempt to make Rody into the meal instead of Mason this time? For funsies you could even reverse it, Rody as a Fork would be fascinating to see, him bonding with Vincent that he also can't taste anything, only for him to find out later that he can taste Vincent himself, holy shit the intrigue.
「Eat You」: Death Note, Lawlight, Fork!Light and Cake!L. Imagine Light both having to hide the fact that he's Kira, but also having to hide the fact that he's a Fork, imagine the never leaving stain that being a Fork would be on his own self-perception of perfection, imagine the so called god that punishes criminals also being considered a criminal by default in society's eyes if he's ever found out. Kira selling out his own kind because most criminals would likely be Forks (whether they were rightfully convicted or not), and then comes in L, a detective, a nuisance, Light's equal and a Cake. Maybe Light would find that out later on, maybe while they're playing as friends in college or while chained together, and now L had effortlessly thrown another wrench in his life yet again by default, like they're meant to be opposed by fate itself, where Kira is a Fork L is a Cake. L would likely goad Light on, trying to bait Kira out, by any means necessary, even if it means being eaten.
「Eat You Piece by Piece」: Hear me out, Batjokes. Fork!Bruce having to hold himself back from breaking his own morals due to finding out Joker is a Cake, Fork!Joker only getting deeper into his Batman obsession after tasting a Cake!Batman, Both Forks bonded by not having taste, maybe both are Forks that differ on how they react to Cakes (Joker regularly eating them while Bruce retains his morals and chooses to not hurt them), maybe both Cakes that got here because they were almost eaten (different Batman and Joker origin stories?). The opportunities are all intriguing and promptly end in bloodshed, expect angst and discussions of what is moral, also just so much angst holy shit this shit hurts.
「I Eat Boys Up」: Dungeon Meshi, Labru, Fork!Laios and Cake!Labru. I'm thinking post canon by accident, maybe something like sharing utensils, and I'm going to be so fr with you right now, this story coming from me would be a lot of romanticism through food metaphors and unending smut, feral Laios is my equivalent of heroin and I could imagine him describing Kabru's taste in detail to him while eating him out. But if smut isn't your jam, exploring how Laios and his monster obsession, especially in the form of food, as someone who can't taste would be intriguing, in a story so closely tied to food, you have to wonder how it would all change if the main character couldn't even taste. Also, I doubt Kabru would take the knowledge of him being essentially prey well, so there's that bag of worms to go into if you want.
「Blame Gluttony」: This one is purely self indulgent but like, Re:Zero with any ship, Cake! Subaru and Fork!anyone else. Imagine Subaru's world doesn't have this Cakeverse nonsense at all, but the world he's transported to has, imagine how scary it would be that one loop he suddenly finds out that he's essentially universal prey here (maybe in the second loop with Elsa), imagine the weight of all the things that already are trying to kill him along with the fact that he's also got a new thing to worry about? Maybe instead of just the rabbit loop, there's now multiple loops where Subaru is eaten alive, maybe there's loops where his dear friends themselves are eating him. Can you imagine if Emilia was a Fork? If he found out after the kiss of death and she commented on the taste of his lips as he was dying, if it came up again after their kiss, Subaru having to tackle with his love and heart belonging to someone that would one day eat him whole. Imagine the witch not longer just wants to touch his heart or kiss him, but she also bites him when he tries to tell the secret. Imagine maybe Rem is also a Fork, imagine that his death by her hands also involved her tearing into him chunk by chunk. What if Otto was a Fork, what if Reinhard was one? Seriously all the opportunities are equally traumatizing and I'm living for it!
Honorable mentions include: Persona Shuake and Shuada (Fork!Protags and Cake!Detectives) for the optimal mutual murder extravaganza, Okegom DSP Satanivlis (Fork!Ivlis and Cake!Satanick) for a rare case of role swapping, South Park Kyman (any way works tbh) for mutually assured destruction, Slay the Princess (Fork!Princess and Cake!Birb) because themes, Soukouku (Fork!Dazai and Cake!Chuuya) for making canon even worse than it already is, frankly any investigrave game would be peak here, Hannigram for obvious reasons.
But that's all I have for now, so, what have we learned here?
We learned that: I'm mentally ill and you need to write about the Cakeverse NOW.
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temilyrights · 4 months ago
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in the darkness (open your eyes)
melissa schemmenti x fem!reader
summary: melissa and reader are angry with each other over reader's dating life. who will break first? or will someone need to intervene to get them to pull their heads out their asses and make up? inspired by prompt 31 “Let’s just say that if I saw you bleeding out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen you.”
word count: 4.6k
warnings: arguments, swearing, hurt/comfort, insecure!melissa, age gap, reader is referenced as being under 30.
a/n: hello friends, this has been a long time coming. i've wanted to write for this queen for ages and when i finally sat down to do it the words didn't stop spilling out of me. i haven't been able to write like this in years, so i think i've found my passion again in melissa <3 it's good to be back. it's a long one and i hope i managed to capture her correctly. enjoy :)
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For twenty years Barbara Howard has arrived at Abbott Elementary at 5.50am on the dot, just in time for her to park her car, take a stroll to the staffroom and make herself a coffee before Action News started at 6 sharp. Now, the walls of Abbott were never calm, but for 30 minutes every morning, while she sipped her coffee and listened to the soothing tones of Jim Gardner, everyone around her seemed to be able to keep themselves together. Even in her first year of teaching Janine had never tried to disturb her, maybe for once able to sense the importance of these moments for a successful teaching day. 
Barbara can tell it will not be a normal day in Abbott the moment she pushes past the green doors into the building. The energy is high in the air and she fears if she touches anything an electric shock might meet her. Still, she sends a prayer to God and pushes her way through the building.
No one was stopping her from getting her 30 minutes of peace. 
She finds the culprit for the upsetting energy the moment she crosses the threshold of the staff room and is not slightly surprised. Melissa sits in her usual chair, her face murderous, eye’s dark and tongue in cheek as she stares pointedly at the wall with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Jacob sits on the couch, eyes on his phone and leg bouncing anxiously, he shoots a look around the room and when his eyes land on Barbara his body sags in relief, thinking he’s found safety. 
Whilst Barbara’s got no idea what has happened, she also notes that the room is empty apart from the three of them and although Melissa’s anger making people scram is not an uncommon occurrence, it has never, in the last two years since you joined Abbott, made you flee a room. In fact, Barbara had watched you calm Melissa down with a simple touch to her arm, something she has never been able to do. 
You did not fear Melissa, which means this anger was likely related to you. These moments were normally quick and fleeting and yet Melissa was so upset it was going to disrupt Action News. Definitely not a regular morning. 
“Would you like a coffee, Melissa?” Barbara asks, starting simple as she enters the room and makes her way to the coffee machine, barely sparing Melissa a glance.
Melissa stands and takes the coffee mug from the table beside her and throws it on the floor, shattering it into tiny pieces, making Jacob yelp. She stalks from the room, muttering angrily under her breath something about ‘betrayal’. 
Barbara sighs tiredly, pressing her fingers to her temples. Today was going to be a long day. 
She considers going after the redhead but as a simple question had produced such a ferocious reaction, she decides it is best to let her cool off before work starts and sits down with Jacob to catch the reminder of Action News. 
She was determined to not let today become a complete lost cause. 
Later, on her way to her classroom to set up for the day, she finds Melissa with her head buried in grading, probably a good idea and a way to calm herself down after this morning's fiasco. However, you’re completely missing from your classroom, very unusual. 
A complete disruption to your routine this morning it seems, Miss L/N.
Barbara lays eyes on you for the first time that day when she’s walking her class to their music lesson. You offer a smile and “Good Morning, Miss Howard,” but the bags are obvious under your eyes. You did not sleep well last night. 
“Good Morning. Your class is in an excellent mood this morning. Gym class?” She asks, looking behind you to the excited third-graders who stand in lines of two, well-behaved but talking in a low excited chatter. 
You chuckle, “I’ve never known a class to love it more.”
Barbara hums, waving goodbye as you turn off down the corridor towards the gym. She drops her class off with the music teacher, making sure to remind them to be well behaved before she heads back down the corridor, stopping at your classroom. 
You look up from your desk, surprised. “Can I help you, Barbara?” 
She’s never seen the point beating around the bush, and she was not about to start now. “I ran into a very angry Melissa this morning. Do you know something about that?” 
Your entire body tenses, your smile going rigid and tight on your face. Barbara can see the anger simmering behind the surface. Unusual. You were always more calm, more open to reason. “I’d be more surprised if you’d said she was in a good mood. Now I’ve actually got work to be doing, if you don’t mind.” 
“Y/N,” Barbara sighs, giving you the pointed look that always works on students and teachers alike. 
You shake your head, “I really respect you a lot Barb, but you’re not gonna be able to fix this one. Please just leave it alone.” 
Barbara stands there for a long moment, staring at you, before she releases a sigh. “Fine. But one of you needs to fix this because Abbott barely has enough mugs as it is.”
She gives you one last pointed look before leaving the room. You sink into your desk, hands capturing your head to stop your head from slamming against the desk and adding to your already growing headache. 
Fuck Melissa Schemmenti. 
Fuck everything about her. 
She had no right to be angry. You’d done nothing wrong. You felt bad for blowing off Barbara, you knew she was just trying to help. And usually a pointed look from her had you confessing your darkest sins, but not this time you couldn’t. She couldn’t fix it. Melissa was the one in the wrong and you were gonna keep a wide berth until she bloody well realised that. 
Although knowing Melissa, you’ll be on your deathbed before that happens and maybe even then she’ll find something scalding to say. It’s what you get for trying to have an honest conversation with a red-headed cancer. 
She was more ill behaved than your worst students. 
 ——
You dismiss your students for lunch minutes before the bell rings, hoping you’ll be able to run to the staff room and grab your lunch and run back without facing the redhead. It’s not that you’re scared of her, you simply don’t have the energy to deal with her attitude so eating in your classroom was the best option. 
However, your plans are foiled when Ava stops your pathway talking about a new tiktok challenge that she wants you involved in. “You’re the only teacher that won’t embarrass me and show off that this place has at least some fit, young teachers.” 
“Sure, whatever. I need to go.” You say, not really listening as you put an end to the conversation and move past her. 
“Rude!” She yells back at you, “But do your thing, girl!” 
By the time you make it to the staff room everyone is already there. Jacob is telling an over the top story about something uninteresting to Janine and Gregory. And Barbara and Melissa are talking quietly at their usual table, where you usually join them. Melissa looks calmer than when you’d spoken to her this morning, she even smiles at Barbara, however the moment you step into the room it all fades away. Her eyes land on you and her eyes harden and her shoulder tense. She jabs the salad in her tupperware harshly. 
You can’t contain your eye roll and don’t bother to say hello to anyone as you make your way through the room to the fridge. 
Janine picks up on the tension in the room, drawing her away from Jacob’s rambling that appears to have gotten more anxious. “Woah, what’s going on guys?” 
“Nothing.” You say.
“Y/N’s a snake.” Melissa gruffs at the same time. 
You slam the door to the fridge before you can grab your lunch, swinging around to glare at her as Barbara releases a horrified, “Melissa!”
“You’re a child. Just grow up!” You growl. 
“Rich comin’ from the girl that isn’t even thirty yet.” 
“Well that wasn’t a problem for your sister when I went on a date with her last night!” 
The gasps in the room are instant. Even Gregory breaks out into a coughing fit as he struggles for breath. And okay, yeah. So you went on a date with Melissa’s sister, but in your defence you hadn’t known she was her sister until half way through the date and then you’d fucking ended it because you knew Melissa would get her panties in a twist. 
And you thought you were being a good friend coming clean, that it would be a funny story. But no, classic Melissa flipped her shit talking about betrayal and schemes. 
“Kristen Marie?” You hear Jacob mutter horrified under his breath. You don’t bother to correct him but no, her you knew. It had been Toni, Melissa’s youngest sister. You’d matched on Tinder and apart from both having green eyes there was nothing on her profile that gave away they were siblings. Toni was tall with short brown hair. You hadn’t even known she was from Philly until you showed up.
Melissa pushes herself up from her chair, her eyes dark and murderous as she stalks over to you. “I want nothin’ to do with ya.” 
The hurt you’re feeling is shoved down. There’s no place for it when she’s angry. “Fine by me. If you’re this upset over one date I left early then maybe it’s a good call to bring this friendship to an end.” 
“Guys-” Janine tries to interrupt.
“No,” You state hardly, eyes never straying from Melissa’s cold ones, “Schemmenti finally knows what she wants.” 
“Yeah I do, and it’s you far away from me. In fact, so it’s clear for everyone just how I feel about this traitor, let’s say that if I saw you bleedin’ out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen ya.” 
More horrified gasps. The words hit you in the chest but you barrel forward, your words scalding as you see red. “Wow, Schemmenti. It’s real no wonder you’re alone, is it? Determined to run anyone out your life that shows you any kindness. I’m surprised Joe lasted so long.” 
Barbara shoots up, lips pursed and hands signalling a sharp line. “Enough! That is enough!” 
Your shoulders slump, tired and drained. Everyone looks on edge, Janine close to tears although the words hadn’t been directed anywhere near her. Barbara was right. 
You sigh, turn around and grab your lunch from the fridge while Melissa storms back to her chair. 
“I’m sorry for the disruption. Enjoy your lunch.” You say to the group as you head for the door. 
“Yeah, and don’t come back.” Melissa grunts. 
“Oh, fuck off.” You snip, sending her one last glare before you storm back to your classroom where you close the door with perhaps too much force behind you. Which works in your favour because it’s a great deterrent in case anyone gets any unwise decisions to follow you, luckily they don’t. 
Over the course of the next week you try every mindfulness trick in the book but still end up going home most evenings and screaming into a pillow. Everyone for the obvious reason that they weren’t shit scared of you had started coming to you begging you to fix the relationship between you and Melissa, like she wasn’t the one to burn it down in flames in the first place!
You don’t care how many times Janine comes to you crying about Abbott peace needing to be restored, or Jacob complains that he’s running out of crockery because Melissa keeps smashing it, or even Barbara’s pointed looks (which you know Melissa will be receiving as well) you refuse to give in. Not this time.
Ava’s pointed, “Fix this because I’m not starting doomsday with a fighting crew so I will have to pick, and it’s not looking good for you.” definitely hurts a little because you thought you were friends. 
“This is the end of the world, Y/N. Friends get you killed! I need a crew with skills to make sure I survive.”
You walk away from that conversation and miss Melissa not for the first time that week. She’d say something kind to cheer you up like, “Doomsday ain’t happening, but if it does I’m not anyone’s patsy. Me, you, Barb and her family are all headin’ up to my timeshare and I’m keeping youse safe.”
As you walk the hallways of Abbott you hear her voice through the open door of her classroom. You pause, leaning against the wall where she can’t see you, and listen to her teach. You haven’t heard her voice void of hate all week and it was draining you. For a woman set on wanting nothing to do with you, she seemed to be around every corner shooting you a glare or scorching remark. 
You melt into the wall, and listen to her lead her class through a grammar lesson, her voice gentle as she praises and encourages students. You miss the days you could drop in to her class on your free periods and bring her a cup of coffee just to see her eyes light up and receive a warm smile before leaving her to teach. You miss sharing food over lunch, you hate not having anyone to try your new recipe’s on. You miss every little soft touch she’d give you throughout the day, a hand on your arm, on your upper back, on your shoulder. You didn’t realise how much you relied on those moments to keep you steady until they were pulled away and suddenly you didn’t feel safe in your own body anymore. Ridiculous. You lived many years before Melissa Schemmenti your body and brain just needed to get the memo that it was happening again. 
You needed to get over yourself because your friendship with Melissa Schemmenti was dead. Those kind comments weren’t coming and you needed to stop yearning for them if you wanted to survive at Abbott. First things first, maybe stop wistfully waiting outside her classroom. 
You’re back in your classroom at the end of the day, packing up after dismissing your kids, when Ava’s voice rings through the intercom, “Miss Schemmenti and Miss L/N report to Miss Howard’s classroom immediately.”
What the hell?
You frown and place the books in your hands down before you head towards the kindergarten's teacher’s room, curiosity getting the better of you.
Melissa runs into you in the corridor, her brows drawn together in confusion. “You know what this is about?” She asks gruffly.  
“Not a clue.” You sigh. 
You let her lead the way into the classroom. Her walk signalling her preparation for battle. The protective streak in her simmering under the surface, you’d be dumb to think it had anything to do with you. 
The kindergarten classroom is empty and in perfect order. Barbara Howard stands poised perfectly beside her desk, her head held high. “I’d like both of you to sit down please.” She says in her sickly sweet voice. The one you know means danger if you don’t comply so you perch on a desk near the front of her class. 
StIll, Melissa doesn’t follow orders. Instead, hovering by the door. “Barb, what’s going on?” 
Barbara holds her gaze, eyes flashing, even as her voice drips with honey, “Melisssa, dear. Sit down.” 
She grumbles but this time complies, choosing the desk on the other side of the aisle to you. “Happy?” 
“Wonderful.” Barbara clasps her hands together and starts making her way to the door. “Now, you two are going to fix what’s happened between you-”
“I’m not talking to that-”
“Barbara-”
“I do not want to hear it!” She cuts you both off. “I’ve had enough of the temper tantrums and sulking. You’re worse than the teenagers. So pull it together and admit you miss each other so people can stop walking on eggshells and poor Janine’s hair stops falling out.” 
Thoroughly told, you slump further in on yourself as Barbara strides out of the room. The door shutting behind her and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.
You chance a glimpse of Melissa from the corner of your eye. Surprised she wasn’t up, ready to kick the door down to escape you. It’s then you notice just how tired she looks. Her makeup has begun to fade, revealing the dark circles under her eyes, her face was drawn and pale, her eyes lacking their usual sparkle. She looks exhausted.  
“Melissa, what’s it going to take for you to forgive me?” You ask plainly. 
She shoots you a glare, eyes full of fire again. The tiredness hidden and slammed up behind shields. “You know this ain’t a forgive and forget sorta situation.”
You push yourself off the desk and walk closer to the woman of your torment, “What so we don’t listen to Barbara and Abbott continues to be an awful place to work because everyone is uncomfortable whenever we’re in the same room.”
She shrugs, “I’ve worked with enemies before.” 
“I’m an enemy now? Come on! It was one lousy date! You wanna throw away years of good friendship for that? I’ve apologised multiple times and I’ll do it again. I’m sorry Melissa. I wouldn’t have gone on the date if I’d known. You must know that.” You say incredulously, watching the hard-headed woman in front of you. “Why would I wanna jeopardise my closest relationship here? You really think you mean that little to me?” 
She wavers, the words touching her, but she doesn’t soften. Instead, she pushes herself off the desk, making herself taller. 
“You talk the talk. But if that’s all true,” she jabs a finger in your direction, “why’d you send goddamn’ nudes to my sister, Y/N!” 
Your eyes widen, jaw dropping in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? We went on half a date. Why would I have sent her nudes? Do you really think I’m that sort of person?” 
She crosses her arms against her chest, “I saw her last Sunday, before your date. She told me about this ‘young thing’ she was messagin’ and receivin’ risky photos from. You tellin’ me that weren’t you?”
“Firstly, ‘young thing’ is disgusting.” You protest, and Melissa winces in agreement. “But more to the point, no it was not me. Not that it would be any of your business if I did decide to send those types of photos to someone because I’m an adult and it’s my choice, Melissa. I get she’s your sister but I told you I left the date when I found out and that I had no interest in seeing her again. So I just don’t understand what the problem is.”
She sighs, and takes a step back. “You really tellin’ the truth?” 
“Yes!” 
“Fuckin’ hell,” She grumbles.
Her gaze drops from yours as she kicks her shoe into the ground, a frustrated grunt leaving her lips. When she looks at you again, her gaze softens, the anger melting away leaving her vulnerability exposed.  “Look, I hated the thought of her seeing youse like that, alright? I love my sister but she’s not got the best track record of treatin’ women the way they ought to be treated and I didn’t want you messed up in that. If you were sharin’ those photos it should be with someone that respected ‘em, respected you. Not someone that treated you like her latest play thing.”
“So you took it out on me.”
“Well you still went on a date with my sister,” She says with an eye roll, “but I guess I got a second wind of anger when I connected the dots and It was easier to blame you. I’m sorry.” She shrugs.
You smile tenderly. The calm good, hope settling in your stomach that everything might actually be okay. She cared about you being treated right, that was something, at least.
“I’m sorry too. For everything I said in the staff room. I didn’t mean it.” You respond genuinely. You’d regretted the words as soon as your anger had faded. 
“All’s good.” She shrugs again, with a smile. And you know you’re forgiven, even if you don’t feel like you quite deserve it. 
She tilts her head, fingers tugging on the belt straps of her jeans - which doesn’t make your heart skip a beat at all. “Let me ask one thing ‘nd then we can move on for good.” 
You clear your throat, “S-Sure.” 
“Why her?”
“Mel-” You shake your head.
“Come on, there’s gotta be loads of women on those apps, but ya choose to meet with Toni, why?” She asks, watching you closely, eyes guarded, like she’s scared of your answer.
You sigh and contemplate lying or refusing to answer, especially with how new the calm is and how quick she can be set off again. But you also don’t want to refuse her and you can see the vulnerability she’s desperately trying to hide.
“Honestly?” You shrug, unable to hold her gaze, “I liked her eyes.” 
“Seriously?” She chokes, eyes widening in surprise. She ducks her head and shifts on her feet, “People have always said we got the same eyes.” 
“Similar. Yours are lighter, bigger, prettier.” The words are out your mouth before you can stop them and you kind of want the ground to swallow you up whole. 
Melissa smiles, her cheeks dusting pink, as she laughs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, hon.” 
The compliment hadn’t been intended and leaves you feeling exposed, but still you hate her immediate refusal. A trend since you started at Abbott. Apart from compliments on her teaching, which she accepts, she’s always quick to dismiss the kind words that come from your mouth. Any compliments on her hair, her outfits, her personality are all quickly laughed off. You hate it, and what’s worse, you really don’t understand it. She accepts everyone else’s nice words, you know she’s so confident in herself, so it doesn’t make any sense. 
“Why do you do that?” You ask, sighing. 
She furrows her brows, “Do what?” 
“Always reject the compliments I give you.” 
She huffs, eyes averting yours. “I don’t.” 
“Oh, come on,” You chuckle, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 
She crosses her arms against her chest, shrugging, “You’re a kid, whats it matter if I accept your compliments or not?” She challenges
“I’ve told you not to call me that.” You say firmly, eyes narrowing. 
You had this conversation a few months after you started working together and she promised she’d stop calling you that. You were aware of the age gap, but that doesn’t mean you need to be patronisingly called ‘kid’, especially by Melissa. She knew better. 
Her eyes narrow as her hand comes out to wave at you, “But you are, alright? Ain’t even thirty. Why are we kiddin’ ourselves with nice conversations and stupid compliments that mean nothin’.”
“You don’t honestly believe that,” You breathe, voice calm even as your heart beats rapidly. 
“You should be hangin’ out with kids your own age, not me.” 
“I do, you know this. I have out of school friends and I’ve got Ava and I join the after school crew sometimes.”
She stares at you, her eyes hard even as her hands shake. You reach out and place a gentle hand over hers and watch as her whole body relaxes. 
Her eyes squeeze shut and she drops her head, a deep sigh escaping her lips. 
“Mel, this is me.” You whisper. “My favourite part of the day is sneaking into your classroom and giving you a coffee because it makes you smile. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it this last week. It just so happens that out of everyone you're still my favourite person to be with. What’s so wrong about that?”
Shining green eyes meet yours, “I ain’t good for ya.” 
Your brows draw together, heart aching as you step closer to her. “That’s not true.” 
She’s so close you can see the brown specks in her green eyes. You want to reach out and cup her cheek, hold her close and help somehow. 
“Isn’t my opinion what matters?” You prompt. 
Her eyes gaze back into yours, pained and tormented. 
“You’re a terrible idea.” She breathes, voice so quiet you barely hear it over the sound of your thumping heart. 
“Mel,” Your heart thuds, your voice shaking as you're guided closer by an invisible force. Your hand rests on her upper arm, hers perching on your waist and all your thoughts disappear in an instant as your eyes squeeze shut and you try to remember how to breathe. 
Her eyes track your face, memorising every detail now she has you so close. The slight furrow of your brow, your delicate eyelashes, your open mouth.
“Fuck it,” She sighs, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your eyes open and Melissa’s darkened ones stare back at you. Your teeth dig into your lip and her eyes follow the movement. 
You can’t find your breath as Melissa guides you towards her, her mouth slowly moving closer to yours. Your fingers grip into the cotton of her t-shirt the moment her lips tenderly brush against yours. You melt into the kiss, a mew escaping your mouth as you kiss her back. All thoughts gone as you give into the sensation of her lips against yours.
It doesn’t last long but you still can’t find your breath when Melissa pulls back, a nervous smile on her lips. 
“Wow,” You breathe.
She chuckles affectionately, her eyes warm as she watches you. “That’s all you’ve gotta say?” 
“Uh…Kiss me again, please?” You offer
She chuckles again, her smirk victorious as she rolls her eyes. “Come on, tell me what you’re feelin’” 
“Oh, isn’t that obvious?” You squint, “I’m obsessed with you. I have been for ages. You’re the one that was keeping it all close to the chest, Schemmenti.” 
She shrugs, “Dunno. I might’ve suspected you had a thing. Wasn’t sure though, and with those dates you’ve been going on. I was gettin’ mixed signals.” She rolls her eyes. 
She’s been going on dates as well but it seems pointless to point that out. “Melissa, I’m crazy about you.” 
She grins, “I kinda have a thing for ya too.”
Your heart thumps at her words, like the kiss wasn’t enough confirmation. Her smile and warm eyes, matching your own goofy smile. “That’s good to know. How about you let me take you out for dinner?”
She rolls her eyes, “What the same place you took my sister? No hun, I’m takin’ you out.”
Your teeth dig into your lips as you try and fail to suppress your smirk, “Oh, was that the real issue? Jealous that your sister got to go out with me first?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” She grumbles.
“Oh yeah, is that so?” You tease, leaning in close. 
Melissa’s eyes darken, “I’d watch it if I were you.” 
“Why’s that?” You ask, excitement rippling down your spine.
“‘Cause you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A promise.” 
Your body heats up. All the air leaving your lungs as Melissa laughs. 
“This is gonna be fun.” She grins. 
She pats your hip, “Come on, hon, let's find a way out of this room and then I’ll take you on a proper date.”
You nod, unable to form words as you follow her blindly.
But with Melissa Schemmenti, you know you’ll always be okay, even if she does have a dangerous impact on your ability to regulate your breath.
You think it’s worth it. 
For a woman that beautiful, just about anything is. 
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wonryllis · 1 year ago
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𝜗𝜚ㅤTHAT'S MY GIRL! ( their idol s/o has dating rumours with someone else )
────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗒!
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﹙NOTES.﹚ enhypen as your idol counterpart. fluff. fem!centered. lowercase intded. 1098wc. requested by anonie 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 the one who ends up revealing your relationship in the most unhinged way. look he really loves the thrill of a secret relationship and he's so grateful to be chosen and loved by you but he just cannot stand you being romantically associated with someone that's not him. like why anyone else when he's literally here? sad baby starts a weverse live to vent in code (lies he planned it all so strategically, the perfect little irreversible plan) but ends up slipping your name in between as if he wasn't just giving it all away, "whose scrunchie is that? oh this blue one?" picking up the silk rubber from the corner the fans spotted it in,"it's y/n's," and when asked why, he's babbling on before anyone can stop him," because my baby was here yesterd-" live ended.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 the one who is so secure in himself, he wouldn't give a damn about it. please he couldn't be bothered in the least whether there's one or hundred rumours or articles, he knows he's the only one for you. though sometimes he would want to show you off a bit but that's okay there will come that day when he would put a ring on that finger and declare to everyone just how much he loves you. "jay did you know about that rumor i had with-" you enter the room, wanting some lovely words from your lovely boyfriend,"baby you know i love you lots no article or rumor's gonna change that ever," you giggle rushing over to him and leaving fluttering kisses on his cheeks, "just wanted to tell you he's apparently rumoured to have beef with you," "we meet after a week and that's all you gotta say? come on baby,"
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 the one who is full of himself, convinced it was just a lame ass set up for a while. he opens the article once, reads a lone single line and it's done. the next time you're meeting he'll be like, i saw the article of you with so and so, saw the pictures too and well i understand. can't deny your chemistry speaks but that's because they haven't seen you with me yet, "we literally define chemistry baby, he ain't nothing before me," his ego shines so bright and it's even crazy that you find that attractive about him. the next time he sees that idol he's gonna be hella sarcastic and fans are so confused to see the puppy guy behave like that. "i know he's no competition for me but honeybun how dare they like, man know your limits," he's not stressed he says all week.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 the one who ends up making dating rumours of himself with that idol. honestly he hates it, the rumours are eating away at him and it's worse that you're mc partners with that idol. will stare that guy's kidneys down when on an interview on the show. and then boom the next day there's articles all over the internet about how he was giving his heart eyes the entire time. "is this damage control or is this self sabotage?" he's questioning himself as much as he is questioning you, but does it really matter the mission was successful and now your name is no longer attached to that shit. now well it's his go to plan everytime you get dating rumours only stopping when it's his name beside yours, "baby, i got it all under control trust me. no one will ever try to pretend to date you," he's not leaving anyone unstained who dares to go for his baby.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the one who strangely gets excited over the news, boy are you sure it's rumours about your s/o? he's quite literally the first one to find out and he's ecstatic to know the love of his life is so popular and even more that you're getting free publicity like you go girl it's all an image, i know who's the real one. there is no jealousy jealousy, but he's still like,"don't be too cocky about your options, you're stuck with me bun," if he knows that idol, he's definitely talking about it in his next live, subtly trying to debunk the rumours saying oh my friend's got no rizz, way to roast for love. however there are moments of craziness when he'd add fuel to the fire and start new rumours, "babes, i got you some more publicity, your company's not doing shit for you they gotta thank me,"
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 the one who purposely tries to set you up for schedules with himself so that he can start rumours about you both. on his managers ass to arrange shows you can participate together in, to creat opportunities for him to interact with you as much as he possibly can. might even pressurize the poor manager to open fan accounts and spread rumours about y'all. "baby, i got this show for us next week, we're gonna be making news soon!" excited he speaks into the phone, on his way to your dorm without any disguise hoping paparazzi catches him?? with his manager running after him trying to convince him there's better ways. "wonie, do you wanna join we got married?" boom bam boom you're just as crazy as him, your mates cannot fathom how y'all haven't been discovered yet.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 the one who teases you but in a sorta jealous, i need some validation kind of way. he knows it's not serious but he just can't help it, he just constantly wants to be reassured by you, it makes him feel all these giddy butterflies like yes i bagged this amazing person. and it's so sad he can't show it to the world, but if you love him back then that's all that matters. "heard you got a new boyfie?" he looks at you wiggling his brows in a pout as you hangout in an empty dressing room after your performances, "what no? you're my boyfriend, the permanent one," you assure his ass but he's liking this so much,"the how many side hoes have you got?" he starts again, "only one," you tease, "does it start with a r and end with an i?" "i don't think so," "y/n!" always ends like this.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie
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