#i love staging my little plays in my head

[berfgrimm]

745 | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral, humping, dirty talk, name calling, a little bit of roleplay (kind of?)

note: i hit a wall with what i’ve been writing so i thought trying something new would help get some things out of my system. it’s a quick one, but i hope you all enjoy!

———————

“What do you think?” Seunghyun asks, watching you press your hand to his chest, your fingers gently tracing the skull on his bomber jacket. “Does it look good?” he asks, almost too innocently, and you chuckle, thinking if he only knew what you had on your mind.

“Mhm,” you mutter. “Really good.” You gently shove him backward so he is sitting on the sofa now, peering up at you with an surprised yet amused look on his face. “When are you wearing this?”

“Tomorrow, in Osaka.” You nod slowly, bunching your skirt around your thighs and pulling your panties down your legs so they pool at your feet. “What are you doing?” he asks, eyes darting over your body. You choose not to respond, but straddle his thigh instead, letting out a gentle groan at the feeling of his pants pressing to your bare skin. “Babe,” he mutters, running one hand through his hair while the other rests on your hip. “What are you...?”

“I want to sit on your lap,” you whisper, pressing your hand to his chest as you slowly grind yourself against his thigh. The rough feeling of his pants generating friction with your slickness as you move, getting you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Fuck,” he breathes, guiding your body to keep grinding. “You need me this bad, hm?”

“Tell me that I’m a good girl,” you plead, your hand fisting his jacket so you can pull yourself a little closer to him.

“Have you been good enough for me to call you that?” Seunghyun always knows how to tease you even while you’re teasing him. He makes you feel like you’re going crazy with desire for him without even trying.

“No, I’ve been bad,” you reply. He hums thoughtfully, something that quickly turns into a sharp intake of breath when your leg that sits between his thighs finally presses to his crotch. “Don’t tell my boyfriend,” you whimper. For a moment, Seunghyun doesn’t catch on, a look of confusion plastered on his face because he’s your boyfriend — until he realizes you want to play.

“Tell me,” he rasps, staring into your eyes. “How bad have you been?”

“I sucked my boyfriend’s dick in the middle of a movie theater last month,” you whisper, licking your lips; Seunghyun grins, clearly reliving the moment between the two of you. “Then the next week, I let him use a remote controlled vibrator on me when we went to dinner with his friends.”

“Hmm, now that is very naughty,” he says, his voice steady and deep. “What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve done?” You bite your lip, trying to mask the knowing smirk that begins to spread across your face. Seunghyun notices this look and grabs your thighs with both hands, maneuvering you so that you are now straddling his lap entirely. As soon as your heat presses to him, feeling his erection through his pants, you let out a small whimper. “Tell me, baby,” he whispers, fingers curling around your hips. “And maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“At the beginning of the year,” you start, rolling your hips against him. “My boyfriend was on tour for a few months and I didn’t get to see him...so I bought some really slutty lingerie...and FaceTimed him while I fucked myself with the toys he bought me.”

“Mmm, tell me something you haven’t told your boyfriend,” he whispers, his eyes heavy with desire but his face still composed. “I’ll bet you’ve done something that you’re too scared to tell him.”

“I watched some videos of him on stage and I touched myself,” you admit, your voice weak as the coil begins to tighten in your stomach. “I told him I wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t around, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“You love to touch yourself when he’s not around,” Seunghyun breathes, shaking his head. “Did you forget...when you visited your boyfriend, and he was busy with rehearsals...so you fingered yourself in his hotel room because you were too horny to wait?” Your face flushes and you place your hands on his shoulders, grinding down harder against him. “What happened after that?” Seunghyun asks, eyes glued to your lips. “Hmm?”

“You…” All breath escapes you for a moment as you feel yourself dripping onto Seunghyun’s lap at the memory. “He showed up,” you gasp.

“And you were moaning like a slut, isn’t that right?” Seunghyun asks, helping you grind faster, able to see how close to the edge you are. “Putting on a show for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. You tighten your legs around his body, moving faster and harder, desperate for your release. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you groan, pressing your face against his neck.

“All over my lap?” he whispers, kissing your head. “You’re right: you are really fucking bad.” You gasp and whimper, movements becoming far too sloppy to have rhythm; you slow, unable to keep your pace. “Oh, baby,” he mutters. “Do you need me to finish you off?”

“Please,” you whine, clinging to Seunghyun as you struggle to keep grinding on him. You hear a chuckle rumble in his chest — he’s always amused by the way you beg for him.

“Listen to you,” he whispers. “Always so good for me...no matter what. My good girl.”

Without warning, Seunghyun pushes you from his lap so you are on your back on the sofa. He quickly moves to kneel on the floor between your legs, keeping eye contact with you as he presses his mouth to your clit. With a sharp intake of breath, you thread your fingers through Seunghyun’s hair, keeping him close as he toys with your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, as Seunghyun slides two fingers inside of you. He hooks his arm under your thigh and hoists your leg over his shoulder. “I’m so close…” He hums against you, thrusting his fingers deeper and faster, his tongue relentless in its torture.

Your release hits you in a slow wave, flowing through your whole body until you can feel it in your fingertips. You don’t bother covering your mouth to silence your moans, because you know Seunghyun loves to know how good he makes you feel, and he doesn’t care who else hears it. With your hands on the back of his head, you grind against his face, his moans vibrating against you until he works out everything you have to give him.

“Jesus Christ,” you rasp, relaxing against the sofa and releasing your grip on your boyfriend. “We should really try roleplaying as strangers one day.”

“Yeah, that was hot,” Seunghyun says with a smirk, licking his lips and fingers clean. “What made you get so turned on to begin with?”

“I don’t know,” you pant. “You looked so sexy…I couldn’t help myself.” He stands to his feet again, looking down at the crotch of his pants to see the dampness that you left there. It would make you blush if you didn’t see how hard he is from what you did.

“Hmm, you definitely know how to make a mess,” he mutters. You sit up from the sofa and take hold of his hips, pulling you to stand between your thighs. Giving him a sultry look from under your eyelashes, you begin to slowly unbuckle his belt.

“Let me clean you up,” you whisper, unbuttoning his pants.

“You’re such a good girl.”

[petrifleur]

pairing: nanami kento x reader; prompt: 36. striptease

contains: established relationship, mostly suggestive, office worker nanami, he has gross coworkers, burlesque dancer reader, afab fem reader (reader has boobs, wears a bra + lingerie), consensual nude sending, kento being a cutie patootie; word count: 1.2k

author's note: hehe this was so fun to write! i would love to watch a burlesque show one day :3 thank you to @benkeibear for helping me and proofreading! <3

please read my rules before interacting! minors, ageless / blank blogs will be blocked!

music blared through the speakers, the bass thumping in nanami’s head. it was pounding from the stressful day already and then his coworkers decided to go to a burlesque bar to ‘unwind’.

he did not want to be there.

he’d rather be curled up on the couch cuddling with you, his sweetheart. a little secret he kept all to himself, the relationship providing comfort in the day-to-day rush of his boring office job. however, you encouraged him to go and have a few drinks, stating that you had to work anyways and wouldn't be with him until tomorrow. at least he had something to look forward to after this terrible workweek.

the lights dimmed, spotlight directed on the stage as the mc’s voice boomed to introduce the next act. the voices around him quieted down as everyone’s eyes were glued to the stage.

a soft, sensual jazz number started playing, the curtains opened to reveal. . . you. kento’s jaw almost hit the floor but he composed himself. hollers and whistles were heard from his already inebriated coworkers, some even saying how ‘tasty’ you looked. you were donning a beautiful robe, matching feathered fans covering most of your body. your face was obscured by the fluffy feathers, only your eyes peering over them. gloves covered your hands, bedazzled at the nails.

kento was awestruck. he knew you were a dancer but not this kind. you haven’t been dating for very long, haven't gotten physical besides a few heated makeouts on his couch after half a bottle of wine. you haven't really talked much about your profession besides telling him you were a dancer. but you politely declined when he asked if you could show him a few moves or even teach him. but now he knew why. burlesque was not his personal style but boy, he knew he he loved to watch you.

along with the beat, your fans wiggled open and closed, slowly revealing the extent of your outfit. the half tied robe showing off your cleavage and teasing the lacy bra you were wearing underneath. you were moving sensually to the music, revealing more and more. the fans moved behind you like a peacock’s tail, flaring beautifully with the rhinestones glimmering in the spotlight.

you closed the fans with a snap, putting them away to the side before slowly pulling on the robe strings and turning your back to the audience. his coworkers let out huffs and puffs, wanting to see the robe fall (and drooling over your scantily clad body). kento balled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white and his nails leaving indents in his palm. his jaw was starting to hurt from clenching so hard. sweat was starting to accumulate on his brow with a vein threatening to pop. contrary to what you may believe, kento wasn't angry. oh no, not at all.

he was aroused. very painfully so. and even a little bit jealous. jealous that his coworkers would see you like that, even before he did. even if they didn't know you were his partner, he was angry at them. they didn't deserve to see your beautiful body, didn't deserve to drool over you and how stunning you were. you were his, and his alone. he was very jealous, in fact.

he was watching with gritted teeth as the robe opened, drowning out the whoops and hollers right next to him. he almost didn't notice what was stitched into the back of the robe. “k’s”.

he felt his heart beat out of his chest. did you get that done just for him? oh, he desperately hoped so.

the music reached a crescendo and the robe fell. he could see the tightly laced corset around your waist, matching panties and garters. saliva was pooling in kento’s mouth and he swallowed. hard. he would do anything to touch you right now, to feel the rhinestoned corset beneath his fingers and unlace and unravel it slowly. his hands were sweaty and he was wiping them furiously on his pants, adjusting his posture so (hopefully) no one would notice the tent in his pants. he was so, so hard, scared he would pass out from arousal.

you turned around with a dazzling smile, revealing your full outfit to everyone. the bra you wore pushed up your breasts, the shimmer from your body oil so pronounced on your skin. you slid your hand from your shoulder down, slowly pulling on the glove and revealing even more of your glimmering skin. grabbing the bedazzled tip of each gloved finger before pulling it off with your teeth seductively, kento almost felt like you were looking right at him. his heart was lurching up to his throat, his leaking length twitching in his pants. you really looked delectable.

he watched with bated breath as you did the same to the other hand, showing off your bejewelled and manicured fingers. you then grabbed each end of the gloves, rubbing the gloves between your legs as you moved your hips back and forth. kento started salivating even more at the image of you moving like that on top of him and almost came in his pants.

you spun the gloves a few times, cocking your hips side to side before throwing them over your shoulders. you did a few more lascivious moves, showing your ass cheekily before finishing up your routine with laying on your tummy on the prop sofa. you were kicking your legs and twirling your imaginary hair between your fingers as an artificial phone ring interrupted the ending your smooth jazz song.

you acted surprised before picking up the fake phone. the sound had kento holding his breath as your sweet, sweet voice responded to the familiar intro: “hiya barbie.”

“hi, ken!”

you looked in his direction and winked. of course, every man in his vicinity thought it was for them. but oh, kento knew. he knew you were onto him, you knew he was in your audience tonight. you blew a kiss before the curtain closed and the mc announced a quick break. your boyfriend shot up from his seat, muttering a quick “excuse me” before squeezing past his hollering coworkers joking about him being a little too into it. and they were absolutely right.

as soon as he reached the bathroom, he locked the door and let out a shaky exhale before fishing his phone out of his pocket. you had sent him a photo.

thank god he was alone. you were only wearing the garters, at least from what he could see. even though everything else was covered by your massive fans, he could make out the rough shadow of your breast behind the glittery feathers. the cheeky smile from your mirror pic almost had him cumming in his pants like a pathetic teenager.

‘hope you enjoyed the show! ^_^’

he quickly pulled down his pants just enough to free his leaking cock, snapping a photo himself. he had only sporadically sent nudes before so it wasn't very aesthetically pleasing. the photo was shaky and unclear but it had to do. your thighs clenched in anticipation. his photo had you drooling and getting ready to set out to find him. before you could, he was calling you.

“yes, kento?” you giggled on the other end of the line. “did you like it?”

“more than you know,” he panted, sweat running down his temple. “please, let me take you home and show you just how much.”

©petrifleur 2025 – all rights reserved, do not copy, modify, repost, translate any of my works. do not feed my works to any kind of ai.

[dulcescorderitas]

LARPing wasn’t exactly high on dean’s bucket list. sure, he’d been dragged into some weird shit before, but running around in a tunic while pretending to be a medieval knight? not exactly his scene. that was more of a ‘charlie thing.’ hell, it was more of a ‘sam thing’ too—his nerdy little brother was eating this up, already suited up in chainmail and chatting with some guy about proper swordplay techniques.

but you? you looked happy, and that was enough to make him shut up and go along with it.

charlie had roped you all into this after a hunt—something about a group of larpers dealing with an actual cursed relic. she had handled the nerd diplomacy, while the three of you handled the supernatural mess. and now, as a ‘thank you,’ she’d pulled some strings to get you all in on this grand, ridiculous game. dean had scoffed at first, but deep down? he was having more fun than he wanted to admit.

“come on, dean. it’s not that bad,” you teased, adjusting the belt around his waist where a plastic sword hung. “you look kinda hot like this.”

he snorted. “i look ridiculous.”

charlie appeared out of nowhere, grinning ear to ear in her elven rogue attire. “you look perfect! now, all you gotta do is commit. embrace the role.”

“yeah? and what’s my role, exactly?”

“you,” she said, pointing dramatically at him, “are a noble warrior, sworn to protect the queen.”

dean turned to you, eyebrows raised. “queen, huh?”

“that’s me.” you lifted the hem of your elaborate gown in a mock-curtsy. “so, sir winchester, you better do your duty.”

sam, already adjusted to the whole thing, smirked at dean. “oh, he will. he loves this. he just won’t admit it.”

“shut up, sam,” dean grumbled, but the little twitch of his lips betrayed him.

the day passed in a blur of staged battles, quests for ‘enchanted relics,’ and a suspiciously competitive archery contest that sam took way too seriously. dean found himself getting lost in it—the rush of a fake battle, the way his sword clashed against another, the way you laughed and played along like you were truly royalty. he couldn’t deny it. it was fun.

he got caught up in the way you looked at him when he took a ‘wound’ protecting you, how your lips parted in feigned distress as you rushed to his side. his heart kicked up a notch at the way your fingers traced over the faux gash on his tunic, the warmth of your touch setting fire to his skin even through the fabric.

as the campfires were lit and the remaining larpers gathered to revel in their ‘medieval feast,’ you tugged him away from the noise, leading him toward a more secluded part of the woods where an empty tent had been set up for you. it was part of the game, after all—the queen and her loyal kingsguard retreating after a long day.

“you played your part well today,” you murmured, running your fingers over the fabric of his tunic.

his eyes flickered to your touch, then back to your face, dark with something unspoken. “yeah, well,” he huffed, rolling his shoulders. “turns out playing the grumpy bodyguard ain’t too far off from real life.”

“and now?” you tilted your head, eyes glinting with mischief. “will you still protect me?”

dean’s gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening just slightly. he stepped in closer, voice dropping low. “with my life, your grace.”

you bit your lip, barely suppressing the shiver that ran down your spine at the way he said it. slow. deliberate.

“prove it.”

his breath hitched, but he didn’t hesitate. his hands found your waist, steady but firm, pulling you flush against him. the roleplay didn’t feel like a game anymore. it felt real. heavy with something unspoken, something that had been simmering between you two long before today.

the way he looked at you then—eyes smoldering, possessive—made your knees weak. he moved with careful intent, tilting his head as he studied you like prey he had finally cornered. your breath came in soft, shaky gasps, his presence alone making your pulse race.

his fingers ghosted over your arms, barely there, sending chills across your skin. “your grace,” he murmured, hands tracing slow, teasing patterns down your sides. “let me serve you.”

“dean…”

you barely had time to think before his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. he kissed you like he wanted to own every gasp, every moan, every little sound you made. his hands roamed, fingers slipping beneath the heavy skirts of your gown, finding bare skin, making you tremble beneath him.

dean groaned as his fingers explored, teasing, dipping lower, brushing over the heat between your thighs. “fuck,” he whispered against your lips, his breath uneven. “so warm… so wet for me.”

you arched into his touch, gasping when he slid a finger inside you, slow but firm, testing, teasing. he swallowed your moans with another searing kiss, curling his finger just right, making your hips jerk.

his gaze locked onto yours, eyes burning with need as he watched your reactions, drinking in every shiver, every whimper. “stay quiet, your grace,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and lust. “we wouldn’t want your subjects overhearing, would we?”

dean’s thumb found your clit, circling with slow precision, his smirk deepening at the way you writhed beneath him.

“dean, please,” you whined, fingers clutching at his tunic, tugging it open, needing more of him.

his smirk faltered as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him with deliberate slowness, making him hiss through his teeth. “fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, thrusting into your grip, his fingers faltering inside you. “you keep that up, this’ll be over too fast.”

“then take me,” you breathed, legs wrapping around his waist, guiding him closer. “protect me, serve me, claim me.”

dean’s eyes darkened further, something dangerous flickering there before he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. “your grace, i do as you command.”

his lips found your neck as he pushed inside you, filling you completely. he moved with controlled, deliberate thrusts, watching your face with every stroke, drinking in the way your mouth parted, the way your eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

his grip on your wrists tightened as he drove into you, rolling his hips, dragging pleasure from you with every deep thrust. “mine,” he growled against your throat, sucking a bruise into your skin. “all mine.”

you shattered beneath him, pleasure washing over you in waves, dragging him down with you as he groaned, spilling inside you, holding you so close it felt like he’d never let go.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, just breathing, tangled together in the dim glow of lantern light.

finally, dean let out a breathless chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple. “well, if this is LARPing, i think i could get used to it.”

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend

[moon-ttokki-x]

hello hello sweetheart <3

i heard requests are open and i just really needed a comfort fic with minho? i had a dance production recently. one that was really important to me but my old knee and thigh injury acted up last minute and i physically winced in the middle of my performance. people say they didn't notice it but i did and i just feel like absolute shit over it. maybe minho being a dancer comforting reader about it? i'm sorry this is specific but you write comfort incredibly well. i hope you're keeping well ❤️‍🩹

hello <3 oh no, hope you're okay and the injury isn't acting up too much... i'm sure you were great, sho. sometimes we have a way of beating ourselves up for things that people don't even notice. nevertheless, try not to be too hard on yourself, and take care of your body <3

you did well - dancer!lee minho x dancer!reader

pairing: dancer!lee minho x dancer!reader

summary: you make a mistake during a dance performance and minho comforts you.

genre: angsty, mentions of an old injury acting up, crying, dancer!au, fluffy at the end

a/n: sending love to all my dancer readers. divider by @draculasdaughterrr

You sit down and press a hand to your beating heart. The plastic of the blue chair is cold beneath your thighs and you inhale deeply, trying to still the racing thrum pulsing inside of you.

Looking up, you catch eyes with yourself in the reflection of the wide stylist mirror. In your current state, you're finding it difficult to recognise yourself; all dressed up for the production, two dilated eyes set into a pale face staring back at you.

This is beyond important.

Everything needs to go well, and you find yourself so restless that you get up and begin quietly rehearsing your steps. A hand goes to your leg; you find yourself wondering if the injury will decide to play up during the performance. It has before, and it's never ended well.

But it might not happen this time, you remind yourself firmly, and move into your start position.

There's still half an hour to go, and the dressing room is empty while you rehearse, everyone instead choosing to filter into the wings of the stage to peek out over the audience. Occasionally, someone comes in while you dance by yourself; a dancer who forgot their shoes, or a stylist who came to pick up their set of eyeshadow brushes.

But you ignore them and focus wholly on repeating the steps over and over, and when the time comes to head backstage with the other dancers in your section of the performance, you feel ready.

The excited, glittery buzz coming from everyone in the production quiets as the event officially starts. You wait and watch, preparing to head onstage. You watch the others dancing and notice Minho amongst them, a fellow dancer and friend; you're surprised as you hadn't realised he was helping start the dance off. You'd assumed his part was mainly the middle section, but apparently not.

You allow yourself the brief luxury of watching him for a while; you anticipate every one of his steps, and watch how the gems sewn into the shoulders of his top catch the light, making him look as if he's glowing.

"Y/n," someone whispers behind you. "Come on, we're supposed to be filling in the background. Stop staring at your lover and move."

"He's not my lover," you hiss, but you move anyway, filtering into the background with the other members. The light of the stage hits you suddenly; you float to the right, as the routine goes, and feel the heat of its glare pressing against your skin.

Your heart begins to speed up and then slow as you find yourself becoming more comfortable on stage. You remember every step, executing the moves with a seamless perfection, twisting and turning and jumping on beat every time. A little bubble of joy floats up inside of you and settles happily in your stomach, the way it always does when you dance.

You keep a watchful eye on the front dancers, as they hold your cue for moving to the front. Your solo comes directly after they begin to part down the middle. The first dancer at the front moves, then the second, then the third, and by then you're already moving confidently to begin your solo.

Your heart pounds suddenly as you feel the audience's concentrated gaze on you, but you calmly inhale and focus on your steps, choosing to periodically close your eyes to help refocus. You're not as nervous as you used to be, but there's always that little bundle of nerves that decides to unravel in the middle of a routine.

You exhale and channel all the force from your knees, perfectly completing the first part of your jump combination. You feel a sudden, sharp pain in your knee and your heart rises up, a sick feeling popping the happy bubble in your stomach. Because you know exactly what that pain is.

You spin and continue anyway, choosing to balance the weight on your other leg. Channeling all the energy from your legs, you jump and complete the second jump, but as you land, a terrible searing pain shoots through your leg and you physically wince, your knees almost buckling.

Hissing quietly, you keep dancing and finish your solo, moving towards the back of the stage, where your position is for the finale. You dance as much as you can without overexerting and quickly get into position, dropping to your knees and stretching to the left, the music swelling and then dropping. The audience's applause is deafening but all you can focus on is the sharp stinging pain radiating through your leg and the feeling of failure sitting heavy in your gut like lead. You bite your lip, trying to hold back tears, and strain, holding your position before the dancers at the front begin to get up.

You don't even stay to bow. Hurrying off stage, you limp to the nearest dressing room and slump against a bench, clutching your leg. The pain begins to dwindle after a while and you exhale through your teeth, feeling hot tears spill down your cheeks.

You ruined it. After all that practice, you just had to go and ruin it by wincing in front of everyone. And they all saw it. The audience is probably whispering about it right now.

You hastily scrub tears off your cheekbones as someone opens the door. A large brown eye peeks through hesitantly, followed by a glittering string of diamonds sewn into two broad shoulders.

Minho steps into the dressing room and shuts the door carefully before turning around. There are costumes and various dancer paraphernalia strewn chaotically across the floor, and you watch with a weak smile as he begins to navigate through the mess with a typical dancer's precision. Through your haze of tears and the still-dwindling pain in your leg, you can't help but notice the fact that he's here, that he knew where you were even after you ran off. He must have followed you off stage.

He sits down next to you, adjusting himself against the bench, and folds his legs neatly across each other. He wraps his arms around his legs and thoughtfully traces a diamond on his left shoulder.

"Are you in pain?" He says quietly, not looking at you.

You shake your head, a heavy sigh escaping you as you fully process the absolute mess you made of your solo.

Minho hums and turns to look at you finally. He tilts his head and nudges you ever so gently. You go sideways, just managing to catch yourself with your hand. But you don't mind. To Minho, it's a companiable gesture, the gentle nudge, but he forgets his own considerable strength sometimes.

You sigh again and Minho exhales too. You notice his chest is still rising and falling, rising and falling. He's probably still coming down from the dancer's high. Either that or he's tired.

"You did well, you know," he says, even quieter than before.

You sniff and scrub a hand over your cheekbones again. "It's not that."

"Oh? Then what?"

You fall against the bench, exhaling shakily. "I winced during the jump and everyone saw it. My injury acted up."

Minho blinks. "I was watching you and I didn't see anything. Looked good to me."

Your eyes go wide. That's a big compliment coming from him. But it doesn't lift your spirits the way you imagined it would.

He turns his body to face you. "It's okay, Y/n. Things happen. But you were professional about it and pushed through. You still did your best, and that's all you need to do. I really don't think anyone noticed."

You feel another tear run down your cheek. "But what if they did notice?"

"So?" He says rather bluntly.

You turn to face him, but you're met with the feeling of soft, musky fabric against your cheek. Minho's arm wraps around your shoulders and you exhale, relaxing against his chest. You feel him shift the fabric a little higher so that the diamonds on his shoulders don't rest against your forehead.

"Don't worry," Minho says gently. "You did well, Y/n."

You feel another tear run down your cheek as he pulls back. Your tears look like cracked slivers of crystal against the puffiness of your eyes and you sniff as Minho brushes them away with a thumb.

"Thank you, Min," you say almost inaudibly.

He strokes your hair and then gets up, offering you a hand. He grins, but it's not unkind, rather reassuring and quietly caring. "Let's go and get you an icepack."

You take his hand and stand up.

a/n: feel better sho !

[thenickgirl]

Has Nick ever gotten uncomfortable with having his shirt off while having sex with Jalen? Or has Jalen ever moved to take Nick's shirt off during a make out and Nick stops him or something?

well, yes. this was in the early stages of their relationship, of course. naturally, as a lot of people would, nick was nervous or self conscious about jalen seeing his naked body.

ACTUALLY, this very instance is in a fic i was working on. i’ll add a little excerpt for funsies, since it’ll be a while before it gets posted 😌

*for a little context, nick and jalen haven’t had sex (with each other) before, and they are currently making out. Jalen is sitting on the edge of his bed, with Nick straddling his lap*

Jalen’s large hands roamed his petite frame. He slipped one under Nick's shirt, his fingers danced along the brunette’s milky skin as he moaned into his mouth. Jalen loved the way his skin felt on his fingertips, his hand roamed higher, making its way to Nick’s chest and his thumb circles his perked nipples. Nick gasps as he breaks the kiss, his head thrown back as he moans while Jalen plays with his sensitive bud.

“Jalen…” Nick whimpered breathlessly, “I-…Please,” he whined as his hip rocked forward.

Without hesitating, Jalen removed his hand from Nick’s body. He grabbed the hem of Nick’s shirt about to lift it up when Nick's breath hitched. “N-No,” he stuttered, quickly pushing Jalen’s hands away and tugging his shirt back down. His face red with embarrassment as he looked everywhere but at Jalen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-,” he pauses, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Jalen assures, his hands rubbing Nick's sides in a comforting way.

“No, no I do! I want to! You don’t even know how badly I want to. I just-“ he paused, hiding his face in hands as he tried to gather the words, but Jalen already knew.

“Baby, look at me,” he says, pulling Nick’s hands away from his face. “It’s okay, and I get it. You don’t have to take it off now, or ever. It’s not just about me, it’s about you too, it’s about us exploring this love together. We can both keep them on. We can even turn the lights off, fuck it, we can get under these hot ass covers if you want to, I don’t care. Whatever is going to make you feel safe and comfortable, but baby, please know that I love you, and your body. I think you’re beautiful in a tee shirt, in a hoodie, or in your bare skin, and I'd be more than honored whenever you’re ready.” he says sincerely, giving Nick's sides a reassuring squeeze.

Nick was beyond flustered, his eyes wet with tears that he managed to keep from falling. His heart was galloping at Jalen’s words, no one had been this loving and patient with him before. The truth is, he was comfortable with Jalen, and he knew that he could trust him, it’s just his past experiences that led him to hide. With a deep breath, and shaky hands, Nick grabbed the hem of his shirt, this time, pulling it up and off of his body, tossing it across the room.

Jalen’s own heart raced in his chest, as he saw his lover's bare skin for the first time. He was careful not to stare too much, as to not make Nick feel even more self conscious. He pressed his lips right above his tummy, going up his sternum. He trailed kisses all over Nick’s chest, as he hummed contentedly, loving the way Jalen’s soft lips felt against his skin. With each kiss Nick felt every ounce of love, and adoration Jalen had for him, and his body.

Jalen pulls back after a minute, his loving brown eyes locking with Nick’s. “Be real with me,” he pauses. “You fell from heaven, didn’t you?” he says smiling.

Nick beams while blushing, “Oh my god, shut upp,” he says giggling like a schoolgirl at his boyfriend’s cheesiness.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

omigoshh hellooo, I just found your blog and I adore your ian fics!! I also saw that you're taking requests, so can I please have a story ( ? ) request with ian and like a bubbly enthusiastic crew member? she's very sweet and always have a smile on her to make everyone's time at work better <33. but when she's on camera, she's a bit shy especially when on tntl gauntlet! but everyone just loves her like a mom hehe. sorry that this is long, no pressure in writing this btw! love you and your work lovely💕 <3

Roasted || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: you, a crew member at smosh, appear on your first TNTL gauntlet and have a surprise for your boyfriend ian

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

a/n: ok so sorry for the delay darling but it’s here! i took this idea and turned it into a full on tntl bit + roast. hope u enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Up next is (Y/n)!”

     People clapped as Emily called out from behind the camera.

     You walked out from behind the divider, a smile on your face as you approach the six people on the stools. 

     You had been working at Smosh for nearly a year now, but you had yet to appear on camera. When you had been asked to appear on one of the TNTL Gauntlet episodes with the rest of the crew, you were hesitant but had ultimately agreed.

     You looked at your friends waiting for you to begin your bit. Your eyes lingered longer on Ian, your boyfriend of nearly four months. He gave you an encouraging smile and thumbs up. 

     “Hey guys,” you waved awkwardly, “Wow this is so exciting, I’ve never been on camera before!”

     Shayne turned to face the camera from his stool. “(Y/n) is one of our writers and producers, for those of you that don’t know.”

     You nodded as Ian said, “And my girlfriend!”

     Everyone clapped and you felt yourself blush. “That’s news to me,” you teased.

     “(Y/n), you’re making me look bad on camera,” Ian stage whispered.

     “Doing that all on your own buddy,” Angela said, patting his shoulder.

     Shayne, who had already started to take a sip of water, spit it out, laughing at her comment.

     This made Courtney and Damien spit their water out and soon everyone was laughing.

     “Ok guys, shut up, let (Y/n) do her bit,” Ian said, nodding at you.

     “Ok, dad,” Angela rolled her eyes.

     Once everyone had water in their mouth you answered him. 

     “Funny you should say that Ian,” you said, smiling sweetly as you looked at him. 

     He raised an eyebrow. You shot him a wink. Now that everyone’s attention was on you, waiting to see what you would do, you were suddenly nervous. You focused on Ian as you continued, 

     “So, um, as Ian told you, we’ve been dating for a little while now. And so I wanted to make this bit especially for him.”

     “Oh my god I can’t wait for this,” Amanda said, around the water in her mouth. 

     “Since I wasn’t a part Smosh yet when Ian had his funeral,” you continued, still smiling brightly. “I thought I’d take this opportunity to give him my roast.”

     Shayne clapped loudly and you looked at everyone’s widened eyes. Ian shook his head at you, eyes smiling.

     “Ian don’t worry,” you turned to him. “I’m going to keep it light. I’m not going to say anything offensive or inappropriate—which I know is something you’re not familiar with so let me explain it in terms you’ll understand: 9/11, Columbine, that’s what she said, and something about Luigi Mangione?”

     Shayne spit out his water, looking shocked. Ian played along, shrugging. You tucked your hair behind your ears—you were just getting started.

     “But Ian isn’t all dark humor and Challenger’s references. As I’ve gotten to know him, I’ve really gotten to see who he really is. Which is some combination of the kid from Toy Story and Jared Bailey if he was depressed and looked like Matt Walsh.”

      Everyone else spit their water out now, except for Ian who crossed his arms at you, feigning offense. 

     “This is so good!” Angela yelled. You continued.  

      “No, but Ian is amazing. And he’s a really great boyfriend. He’ll tell you that you look gorgeous and give you lots of affection and he’ll make you feel so loved and desired—

     You paused for effect. 

     “—or so Anthony’s told me.”

     Ian spit now, laughing with everyone else. “No need to out me like that.”

     “This is insane,” Shayne wheezed, wiping his eyes.

      “But all jokes aside,” you started. “Ian is really special and he’s contributed a lot to society…and to science. I mean, as the only person to breastfeed until the age of 13, he’s  been so useful to so many studies.”

      “This,” Amanda said through her laughter, “is actually so crazy.”

      “You’re getting owned,” Courtney shoved Ian’s shoulder playfully. 

      You smiled, feeling encouraged by their laughter and not feeling nearly as nervous as you had at the beginning.

     You glanced at Ian. He was shaking his head at you, a proud look on his face. 

     You cleared your throat.  

     “And I know everyone likes to give Ian crap for his fashion sense—probably because of the gum-ball machine chic chains and the ‘piña colada threw up on me’ vibes—”

     “Hey, that shirt is fire,” Shayne defended.

     “Thank you!” Ian exclaimed.

     “—but I think Ian does have a good fashion sense. I’m sure all the bi girls are so happy that you stole their style and somehow made it so much more white trash.”

     “It’s too real,” Angela said through tears of laughter as Damien blew out an astonished breath. 

     “What I’m trying to say, Ian,” you said, turning to him. “is that I’m so glad we’re together and I know you would never cheat on me—or at least I think. Last time I asked you about it you just shot yourself with a water gun so I’m not really sure what…”

     You trailed off as Ian threw up his hands. 

    “Anyway,” you said, smiling brightly at Ian as he grinned back at you. “I love you Ian and I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I’ll always want you around—even if Angry Birds 2 didn’t.”

     As you finished, the cast on camera and the crew off camera burst into applause and you felt your cheeks warm as you did a little bow.

     “Damn,” Shayne cursed once the room had quieted, looking shocked and impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard 

(Y/n) say anything bad about someone ever.”

     “Ian how do you feel?” Damien asked. 

     “Yeah my guy, you were just annihilated,” Courtney giggled.

     Ian looked at you as he answered them. “I’ve never felt better.”

     “Awww,” Amanda cooed, nudging Angela. “They’re weird and in love!”

     “Ew,” Angela joked. “That’s mom and dad you’re talking about.”

     You laughed, catching Ian’s eye as you walked backwards off the set and back behind the divider. 

     “Seriously though, that shirt slaps, dude,” you hear Shayne saying as you walk away. 

     You beamed to yourself. All in all, you’d say your first TNTL was a success. 

     ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You found Ian immediately after the episode was finished filming. As you passed people, you were showered with praise and comments about your roast. 

     It felt good, having your first time on camera go so well. For so long everyone had known you as the shy, quiet type. Always having something kind to say to someone, an encouraging word to offer. It was nice knowing they all now knew this side of you too. 

     You walked up to Ian, grabbing his hand. “How’d I do?” You asked him. 

     He leaned in and kissed you. “Mmm, you were perfect. I’m questioning my whole identity.”

    “Yeah? I didn’t go to hard on you,” you mumbled against his lips.

     “Nah, everything you said was probably true,” he joked in between kisses. “And I love you even more because not only is my girlfriend sweet and caring and incredibly sexy, she’s also insanely funny and one of the most talented people I’ve ever met.”

     You smiled against him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

     He pulled back, his hand trailing down your arm. “Really? I thought I was immature and unstylish.”

     “And I love you even more because of it,” you teased.

     “Hey, (Y/n)?”

     You turned to find Amanda standing behind you. You grabbed Ian’s arm, pulling him close to you as you focused your attention on her.

     “Don’t mean to interrupt but—can you write my roast for Angela’s funeral? You’re so good at it and I can’t think of anything that rhymes with ‘drank paint’.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ this is me manifesting an angela (and arasha and chanse and spencer and trevor) funeral roast 🧘‍♀️

[probablysimpledreams]

I'm With the Band (Band AU Dabi x reader)

a/n: EEEK I love LOV band au so much punk Touya is literally my boyfriend my muse my obsession I'm so happy I finally sat down and write a fic about him <33

cw: substances (alcohol, weed, and I always have to give Touya a cigarette LOL)

wc: 1169

"AH I'm so nervous come take this shot with me!!" your friend panicked as she jumped around the apartment kitchen. You chuckle as you accept the shot glass she hands you. Your friend has spent all day running around full of excitement and nerves as tonight she was finally meeting the guy she met online a few months ago. It just so happens that Tenko, or better known as "discord boyfriend" between you two, and his band were the opening act at a small venue nearby. You decided to attend the concert with her to offer moral support, and to make sure this guy was legit and wasn't going to kidnap your beautiful friend.

"It's going to be fine," you reassure her. "I've seen the messages that man is obsessed with you," you two clink glasses and take the shot of liquor. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Mmmmm I'm just so worried ahhh take another shot with me," your friend grabs the bottle as you roll your eyes. "Please?"

After another shot, quick smoke break, and one more pep-talk you, you two finally left the apartment. The Uber ride was about ten minutes which you were grateful for because if it had been any longer you're sure your friend would have talked herself out of going.

You two thank the driver, giggling while entering the venue. It was a nice spot, featuring two small bars and a large space for everyone to gather around the stage.

"Ohmygod there he is!" your friend whispered, pointing towards the stage as his group walked on. Since the main group wasn't going on for another hour and a half, the venue was not very crowded yet. You wasted no time grabbing your friends' hand as you ran up close to the stage. You smiled watching the two interact before the set started. You also couldn't help but notice that the bassist to Tenko's right would not stop looking at you. You smiled at him, causing him to break his gaze away from you, moving to fiddle with his instrument until the drummer came out.

"We are the L.O.V, here to carry out Stain's legacy of rock n' roll," their drummer Iguchi exclaimed before banging his drum sticks together. "LETS GET FUCKING HYPED!!" The crowd cheered as the band broke out into song. You sing along as you recognize the song from the times your friend has played it, happily showing off her boyfriend and his singing talent. But man hearing it live was such a different experience! Between the amazing sound and all the alcohol you consumed before arriving, you couldn't help but get lost in the moment. You danced happily alongside your friend, singing the words to every song they played. You couldn't help but notice the wide smirk on the mysterious bassist's face accompanied by his shiny blue eyes stuck on you throughout the set.

Once their set was over and everyone cheered, your friend ran off to meet up with Tenko. By now the venue was getting more crowded, so you decided to slip outside to catch some fresh air. As you stood in the smoking section, you happily remembered the untouched joint sitting in your jacket pocket. Sadly that happiness was short lived as you realized you didn't pack a lighter alongside it.

"Need a light?" a deep voice caused you to jump before turning your head to see who approached you. The bassist snickered at this reaction, lighting his own cigarette before holding the flame out so you could light your joint. You thank him with a quiet hum and take a puff, moving closer to him. "Saw you and your little friend dancing out there. It looked like you enjoyed our show a lot." Despite the confidence in his voice, you couldn't help but notice the way his hands were shaking nervously.

"My friend is dating your lead singer, so I had no choice but to get into your music," you teased.

"So I'm wrong in calling you a fan?" he raised an eyebrow, smirk never leaving his face. Now that you were right next to him, you were able to get a better look at him. He was tall and lanky, yet still looked very strong. He was covered in piercings, tattoos, and scars accompanied by ripped black jeans, battle vest, and distressed v-neck shirt. You were now very thankful your friend had convinced you to drink and smoke as much as you had tonight or else you would have not had the confidence to stand here and talk to the gorgeous man.

"Oh no I'm definitely a fan," you smile, taking another puff. "Helps that the bassist is so attractive." You tried your hardest to keep up a calm and sexy demeanor despite your heart trying to jump out of your chest. You were not going to fumble this!! "Though I'm sure you get that a lot."

"Yeah I hear it quite often," he chuckles, removing his cigarette from between his lips before moving in closer to you. His face was now inches away from your own, making your eyes widen. "But it's not everyday I hear it from someone as pretty as you." You felt like you were about to faint upon hearing his words, making him snicker. Before either of you could speak again, a loud crash from behind the building caught everyone's attention.

"Can someone in this band keep their dick in their pants for ONE SECOND and help me load the truck?" Iguchi angrily yelled as he loaded up a massive speaker onto the band's truck.

"Yeah Touya get over here! Hey man don't interrupt him and his game!" the man in the driver's seat called out.

"Touyaaaaa get that cutie's number!!" a young girl in buns sitting in the passenger seat chimed in. She giggled as he flicked both of them off before turning back to face you, cheeks tinted light pink.

"These idiots can't do a damn thing without me," he huffed, reaching into pocket. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and handed one to you. You looked at him confused before flipping it over where you noticed a phone number written down. He mouthed "call me," making a phone with his hands as he ran off to help pack up the truck.

Your heart fluttered as you happily went back inside to reunite with your friend, the two of you heading back to your apartment to debrief how the night went.

--------------

The next morning you had to remind yourself that the previous was not a dream, and you did in fact get Touya's number. You grab the cigarette off the night stand and typed in his phone number.

"Hello?"

"So you just keep your number on cigarettes? Bet all your fans love that," you laugh.

"Pretty romantic huh?" you can practically hear the smile as he responds. "But that's not something I usually do. See baby, you're special. Couldn't let you get away that easily."

[finelythreadedsky]

in the production of ajax that exists in my head, when athena brings ajax out of his tent in the prologue she makes odysseus go sit in the audience to see him without being seen by him

[ginalinettiofficial]

played the game ok boomer at my family party today, ended up explaining to a room of ~20 of my relatives what fanfiction is so they could understand the question, “in fanfiction, what does AU stand for?”. and then the card’s definition of “AU” was wrong so i also had to get into the concept of “canon”.

can u believe. in front of my whole family. a room full of people, aged 3 to 80. all staring at me intently as i explain the difference between an alternate universe and canon divergence. at one point my mom was like “daina i think we get it” and a cousin and two aunts were like “wait no we’re interested please continue” and i had to say to my own mother in front of god and my i am kenough sweatshirt “sorry but unlike you the rest of them DON’T have to listen to me talk about fanfiction on the regular”. my uncle is a retired judge. my one cousin worked for the federal government in a job that was so classified that for years he literally couldn’t legally tell us about ANYTHING he was working on. and today those men sat and patiently listened to me define “coffee shop AU”.

also, not one, not two, but THREE of the answers for the young folks, i knew solely because they were either plot points on stranger things or they were things i found out whilst reading stranger things fanfics. and then i was the only person in our age bracket (10 people, ranging from ages 9 to 42) that knew who anne rice was, and had to explain yet again that the reason i had this knowledge was because… fanfic.

it was surreal. also my aunt, aged 68, may or may not begin attempting to read fanfic now because, according to her, “there are so many stories where there are these small side characters and i’d just KILL to hear their backstory or like what was going through their minds during the main action!” i’m very happy for her. today was wild.

[yannfredericks]

I keep thinking like owwwww I miss cursed child and then I’m like girl you saw it literally two weeks ago but the truth is what I’m missing is the 2016 mystery of it all

[jackmkelly]

i can not articulate with words how much i adore jack kelly.

[apollorobin]

last post for today, but!: 1. how is chiaki so CUTE omgomgomg <3<3 2. why does gundham do that😭😭 so in character and weird. and 3. hello fuyu + kaz hello hello hello hel

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

feeling extremely emo about the incredibly emo poetry I used to write.

[ambreiiigns]

yesterday i watched intruder 1989 btw funniest shit i ever seen

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]