#instead of jumping to stupid fucking conclusions like they had!

[samfrancis94]

They say that the world is ending because 'men are allowed in women sports' because 'gender ideology' because 'queer' because 'lgbtqia+' because 'woke'.

You know what? The world has shown us, time and time again, that there is more that it has to offer, that there is more than meets the eye, things that we have yet to understand just waiting to be explored, and ultimately, understood.

If the world should truly end, it will be because of the many who sought to deny its infinity for the comforts of a cold finite room!

[moondirti]

animalic (2)

← chapter 1 // series masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: a game of cat and mouse warnings: enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, guns, death, blood, angst, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as ‘wraith’) notes: remember when i said part 2 would take a while? i lied. the next chapter is fun as all hell so i wanted to churn this one out as build up. teehee i hope yall like it regardless

He let you go. 

He let you go. 

No matter how Miguel tries to vindicate it, he rounds back to the same conclusion. You weren’t subtle, regardless of what you’d have yourself believe; he’d seen the calculations glaze over your eyes the instant he pinned you to the wall. He knew what was coming, how your heavy breathing was a cover for the clicks of his watch – of which he heard regardless – and your squirming a diversion from the movement of your busy fingers. He had a goddamn plan too, a fail safe in case you decided to attack instead of listening to reason. 

(One he’d settled on for the duration of your lost consciousness, for knowledge that you would.)

So, there is no dismissing it. You’re obnoxious and lack precision, and he could have had you halfway back home by now, which isn’t the case – because he let you go.  

The frigid air of his office thrums with irritation, weighing down on his shoulders until they collapse inwards, his hands coming up to rub the weariness off his expression. HQ has been unsettlingly quiet as of late – occupied by only a fraction of its regular population – and the peace worries him. History betrays its status as the precursor to havoc; lulls in the past have fooled him into believing his mission was drawing to a close, only for another anomaly, another mess, to spin that naivety on its head. 

You were one such instance. A year ago, you’d popped up on an Earth that wasn’t your own, and didn’t leave until you’d drawn all that you could from it. It’s an empty husk now, lacking land to propagate its agriculture. Thousands – millions – dead, from the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

Parasite. A fucking parasite who just won’t quit. 

The mantra surges through him, festering from the base of his gut to the cap of his tongue. It bursts out with a roar right then, the sudden violence finding monitors thrown across the room, smashed to bits of orange light and static. It does nothing to sate him, though, the heady anger filtering out like molasses. His back hunches as he draws in thin breaths. He doesn’t count, nor does he attempt to. Instead, he looks for his only real decompressor. 

The video of Gabriella flickers at him from a distant floor, the transparent tablet wrecked with four distinct claw marks. He exhales, pulling it back to the platform with an extended web. 

“Boss,” 

His mija smiles toothily down at his digital self, winding her small palms in his hair for balance as he carries her. He recalls helping with hers, tying it back into shabby ponytails the mornings before a big game. How she wouldn’t let anyone fix it afterwards, not until her elastic slipped off the ends and her bangs hindered her playing. And she’d run to him, whenever, to get it fixed again. 

“Boss.” 

Her jokes resonate still, echoing laughter from when she’d poke fun at how bad he’d gotten at it, amused by the sudden decline in ability. To Miguel, it was one more reminder that the life he led wasn’t his own. 

“Oh Miguel!” 

So much for calming down.

“Lyla.” He looks up at the virtual assistant, her corporeal character a little fuzzy around the edges. She chooses to ignore his dissociative episode, rather projecting a map of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse, a point off centre highlighted in red. His heart skips. Placing the tablet down on his desk, he takes a step closer to survey the pin.

“Managed to track the Wraith down using the day pass you’d given her. Currently stationed on Earth-15, no signs of jumping anytime soon.” 

Parasitic, and stupid enough to forgo destroying a potential tracking device.

Lyla snickers, seemingly able to read the sneer pulling at his cheeks. 

“Seems like she’s afraid of glitching more so than she is you, Boss.” 

His glare snaps to meet her heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Funny.” His assistant shrugs at his admonishment. “Pull up the anomaly cam.” 

A second later, your figure blinks into sight. 

You’re crouched atop a tiled floor, the grout darkened to near-black with grime. In front of you lies a sparse spread of medical supplies; gauze, scissors, and miniature packets of disinfectant wipes. Miguel can’t help but wonder what you think you’re doing, treating your wounds in a bathroom as unsanitary as the one that cramps you. Graffiti littered walls, nests of used paper towels in every corner. You spring up to wash your hands after undoing the old bandages that hugged your forearm, but all that comes out is an inconsistent splutter of grey water. 

His chest twinges, a tug of intrinsic sympathy playing against him. It worsens at the sight of your injury, the consequences of his talons’ assault on you, the puncture points brimming yellow and blackening closer to their middles. He can’t tell whether it’s gotten any better, whether you were good and had it treated by a professional, or made the common mistake of relying too much on your enhanced healing. 

“Gave her a harsh gig there. You always that rough?” 

“When I need to be.” Miguel murmurs, skimming over the conspicuous innuendo.

“Right. Until it comes to finishing the job, that is.” And, despite the offence taken to Lyla’s jest, he can hardly disagree. Newfound resolve hardens within him, sympathy fleeting at its failure to deter him. 

“Set coordinates for Earth-15.” He rumbles, gesturing to his wrist as he walks away. The assistant does as she’s told, shrinking back to an icon on his watch. While waiting for the portal to configure, Miguel cocks his head, taking one last look at your oblivious form. 

“I won't let her get away this time.” 

“Put the money in the fucking bag or she gets it!”

Of all the spider-people you’ve met, you don’t believe any have been the hostage in an armed robbery situation. You imagine that they’d come in at the last minute, valiantly swinging through the window, accentuating their arrival in a shower of shattered glass. They’d demand the money be remitted, and all’s well that ends well. But – of course – there’s got to be a first for everything; your record just so happens to be the lamest of the bunch. 

The masked man presses the gun further into your temple, bursting capillaries until the spot starts to ache with a raw tenderness. His body wraps around you, other arm waving wildly outwards, extending a plastic bag to the poor soul behind the register. You take a great gulp of air, staring at the buzzing fluorescents above, and pray. 

Lord, now would be a really good time to phase out. 

“P-Please, leave her be.” The owner throws a potful of crumpled fives into the bag, as if to punctuate her plea. The man is dismissive in face, urging her for more, shaking the receptacle with comedic insistence. You purse your lips, blinking up at the ceiling once more. 

Or make this more exciting, at the very least. 

“And you!” You’re jolted out of being a passive observer, rattled when the man diverts his attention to you. His gun thrusts harder against your forming bruise, adding to the list of damages sustained in the past week alone. You peer at him from the corner of your eye. His roll incredulously, pointing to the bill in your grip. “The twenty!” 

“Is that a real gun?” 

“Wha– Of course it’s a real fucking gun! Put the money–” 

“In the bag. I know.” 

His hold on you slackens, expectant. By contrast, you ball your fist and punch him square in the nose. The hit sends him reeling farther than it should for the amount of space you had in winding back, the feat prompting a deluge of pride to wash over you. It’s bolstered when he drops the spoils in the process, toppling into a rack of chips and cup noodles that consequently cushion his fall. 

Your first save. 

Filled with bravado, you snatch and pass over the bag to the cashier. 

“Here you go, ma’am.” 

But she doesn’t look at you. Rather, her stare remains trained on the man you’d just disabled. Nerves maturating, you join her line of vision, only to be met with the barrel end of his weapon. You catch the vicious conclusion in the way his hand trembles, veins protruding from the pale skin, supplying courage to the finger hovering right over the trigger. You process it all, aware of the ways it can end, at how fast it can sour.  

Before you can so much as act on it, he shoots. 

Your skin prickles. 

You’ve heard stories of people who don’t realise when a bullet strikes them. Their bodies take time to catch up to the pain, cells stuck in paralytic shock, stimulus signals held somewhere between the existential and a will to delay the inevitable. You think you understand what they mean, your mind dragging in a rare bout of silence. Things slow, for a perennial moment, and you wonder how fast the blood loss will kill you.

You can do nothing but follow the man, who scrambles to a stand, letting him take the money – with whatever else – and watching as he runs out onto the street. 

And even still, the pain hasn’t caught up to you. 

Looking down, the case starts piecing itself together. No blood sticks to your shirt, the fabric still as pristine as it had been upon purchase. You check your arms, then your legs, then reach up to smooth over your head. Nothing. You’re okay.

The relief is short-lived when the morbid sound of gurgling meets your ears. Slowly, you turn, bracing for what you knew you’d find.  

The scene unfolds with a distressing intensity as crimson liquid blooms from the cashier’s throat. The torrent is never-ending, every gush of ichor bringing forth a new momentum, splattering its macabre scene over the register. Her eyes gloss over with an unshed panel of tears, and she looks to you for help. 

She looks to you. 

(You don’t admit it to yourself, but it’s the novelty of that fact that pushes you into action.) 

With a swift leap over the counter, you intercept her mid-fall, carefully cradling her weight as you guide her down to the ground. Scanning your surroundings, you search for a means to call for help. A rotary phone catches your recognition, situated a ways off by the back exit. Despite the inconvenient placement, it stands as your sole option at this stage.

In a split second decision, you sling your backpack off, hastily rummaging through its contents. You find solace in your hoodie, gathering its folds to tightly bunch it up, converting it into a makeshift compress.  Knowing she lacks the strength to apply pressure to the wound, you move to wrap it around her neck, hopeful that it’s tight enough to stem the bleeding while leaving enough room for air. 

Urgency fuelling your every step, you leave her side for a fleeting moment, dashing over to call an ambulance. Your medical knowledge only extends so far, and some selfish part of you itches to pass on the responsibility to someone more competent. It’s an impulse that derives from an innate acceptance, that resoundingly insightful voice in your head telling you it's too late. That she’s already dead, had been from the moment the bullet – that was meant for you – missed. 

Perhaps your help isn’t really helpful at all, then. Perhaps it’s your attempt to wash your hands of the sin. You think back to the grey water in the bathroom, how exasperated you had been at your inability to stay clean. 

(You don’t think you’ll ever rid yourself of this.) 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The question crackles through the receiver.

The bell by the entrance jingles, the chime accompanied by heavy footsteps. You press yourself against the wall, the concept of the robber returning filling you with such dread that you feel your stomach tighten and congeal. It’s a heavy lump, icy cold and slippery, and it seems to weigh a hundred pounds.

“Hello?” The operator says. 

But if it was the man, then he'd have to have changed into a navy and red suit. Somehow, your terror worsens. 

“Hijo de la chingada…” The whisper is barely legible, but the deep baritone is discernible enough to validate the assumption pulled from your brief glimpse. You’d recognise him anywhere. 

Shrinking in on yourself, you cup your palm over your mouth. “Hello,” 

“Ma’am? Can you describe your emergency?” 

“There was an armed robbery at the convenience off sixth and Third. Someone’s hurt.” You hardly register the words as they escape you, eyeing Miguel when he crouches over the lady. You’re propelled back to the conclusion of your last meeting; how his claws tore into you, how his persistence didn't falter until you pressed yourself onto him. 

That kiss. 

He runs a finger over your hoodie-turned-compress, wavering, like he can’t quite place where he’d seen it before. 

Or, maybe he can, for he spins to meet your wide-eyed stare. 

You drop the phone, bolting out the back door, charged on a paroxysm of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated panic.

chapter 3 →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be notified of future updates!

@ashjbu @its-cat-eyes @lavnderluv @22carolina08 @chocolat3pudding @fucknuggets420 @storyteller-le @royalpurplehuskies @vernon-dursley @ohantonia @vngelis @brucewaynesturtleneck @goldstars-to-all @swissy23 @aisyakirmann @kocasoda @starrfragment @@rei-vi @mbapbaesluvr @strangerfromketterdam @reypolaris @reddeaddepressed @@one17 @feyrespaintings @kuinnoa @omeletteattack @the-omnipotent-phlowr @coacaiyne @tis-niki @arcanaaaa @cookiezxx @flourescence

[starhvney]

Hey, this is my first time ever requesting smth, but could you please do an X Gene fic? Where the reader and Gene get into an argument, and he walks out, leaving Y/N in shock only to come back and smash his lips onto hers. This can end in fluff or smut, I don't rlly mind, thxx

P.S I absolutely LOVE ur stories <33

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a surprise turned into misunderstanding–it’s hard for your ex delinquent lover to get a hold on his self sabotaging habits.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst to soft/gentle smut, happy end, established relationship, gene being gentle

𝐂𝐖: smut, arguing, cussing, reader cries because of gene, insecurity

𝐀/𝐍: ugh gene (p.s. thank you so much! i hope you like it, anon<3 thank you for the req)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾. 𝑰 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑺.

your mouth hangs open, arms lifelessly resting by your sides as you stare down the empty doorway where gene once stood. ears ring from the sudden quiet as the front door slams, leaving you in complete silence. it was a far cry from what this room sounded like just a moment prior.

“what?” you gawk in disbelief, looking into cold blue eyes that somehow seem to burn hot in anger. “what are you saying right now?”

a scoff leaves his lips, tongue rolling irritatedly along his teeth. “if there’s someone else, just say it. don’t play stupid with me.”

you’re taken so off guard that you can’t even defend yourself, only staring up at his grimaced face like a fish out of water. it definitely doesn’t help the case he’s just pinned against you, but you’re so unbelievably overwhelmed by his sudden accusation that it can’t be helped.

“…you think i’m cheating on you?”

with your anniversary coming up again, you decided you wanted to treat both gene and yourself on a small vacation. just a small getaway where you could really enjoy both each other’s company and time away from your monotonous jobs—something he’d made a few complaints about recently.

wanting it to be a surprise, you’d taken on extra shifts and saved up a good amount of money for the expenses without telling him. you’d even gone as far as taking on shifts at the same hours he did, which helped in avoiding having to explain why you were gone more often.

today he’d come back from work earlier than you, when you had told him you were going to be home all day. you’d cursed to yourself when you realized you might have to admit to your little plan, but instead, you were completely swept from under your feet when you were met with an offensive attitude and crossed arms.

“you’ve stopped texting me as much when i’m at work and you’re apparently “at home”, you’ve been on your phone checking things all the time and hiding it from me. did you think i wouldn’t notice?”

“what—gene, hold on. this isn’t…you completely overthought this, just let me—”

“no, no.” he shakes his head. he seems so overwhelmed by his own conclusions as he backs up, starting to mutter under his breath. “i can’t fucking believe this.”

you take a step forward, chest swelling with irritation. you would understand his concern, but for him to accuse you and not even hear you out?

“why would you ever jump to that conclusion, gene? when have i ever been anything but loyal to you?” you shake your head, eyebrows pinched. “don’t project your insecurity onto me—”

“insecurity.” he scoffs.

“—and accuse me of cheating and not even hear me out! i mean, are you cheating on me and projecting it onto me or something?”

he whips his head back around, eyes widening. “the hell? why would you even say that?”

there’s a deep urge for you to cry, eyes pricking as you hold back tears. 

“oh, so it’s okay to accuse me but if i accuse you it’s different? do you even hear yourself right now?” your voice shakes. “you’re not even hearing me out or letting me defend myself in the first place!”

a sharp inhale comes through his lips as he takes a step closer to you, mouth opening before snapping shut as unfocused dark blue sets back on you. his jaw clenches and eyebrows furrow, his own eyes glossing over themselves as he looks you up and down.

“fuck.” he sharply mutters to himself, turning around and roughly bringing his fingers up to his hair as he walks out the door.

you think he says something else but you’re too far in shock, only able to stare at his back as he disappears from your blurry vision. sobs immediately leave your lips as you crumple down against the wall, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your head against them.

how did it go wrong so quickly?

why wasn’t he trying to at least reason it out with you?

how could he just leave like that?

when would he be back?

was he coming back?

you’re there for what feels like forever, unable to control your crying as your chest heaves, a heavy weight keeping you there on your entryway floor as your lungs spasmed for air. though, it’s likely only ten minutes you’re there alone before the front door opens again—much gentler than it had shut earlier. 

you hear his breath hitch from the door, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him. not yet. your lack of response doesn’t hold back his hurried footsteps as he rushes over, kneeling right in front of you.

“sweetheart?” he breathes, his fingers brushing along your arms. it takes just a moment of you glancing up at him with your wet eyes for him to get over whatever hesitance he felt, as he quickly scoops you up against him.

“no, baby, no no. please don’t—fuck i’m so sorry. please don’t cry.” he whispers, tucking your head into his neck as he lifts you up, carrying you away from the doorway. “oh god, i’m so fucking awful. please don’t cry over me, please.”

you’re dipped back down again as he continues to ramble, back meeting the soft duvet of your bed. feeling weak you melt right into it, hands covering your face from view. the mattress dips down near your side, and gene's hand gently grabs your wrist. he tugs on it, enough to be a request but not enough to force you or even move you from your spot.  

“please look at me.” he whispers, and his normally raspy and tough tone is so uncharacteristically soft that you give in, letting him tug your hands from hiding you away.

tears still fall from your face, but you've managed to calm yourself enough to be able to see through the watery haze cast over your eyes. when you glance up into his eyes you find that your distress is reflected in his own expression, too, his mouth twisted in worry and eyes misty with his own tears. 

“i'm so sorry.” he mutters, rough hand brushing along your cheeks to dry your face. “please don’t cry. that was all me, i shouldn’t have ever gotten that heated… i just got in my head and…”

“i thought you left me.” your voice cracks, and you see his eyes gloss over with guilt.

“no. no.” he shakes his head, leaning forward. “no, i wouldn’t—i was just so upset and realized i was losing it so i went to cool off. didn’t you hear me say “i’ll be right back”?”

you shake your head, sniffling as another round of tears streams down your cheeks.

“oh, my sweet girl. no, i wouldn’t leave you like that. i’m so sorry i even made you think i would.” one of his arms wraps around your waist and pulls you against him, his other hand cradling the back of your head as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “i know you wouldn’t cheat, you’re right. i got so insecure and in my head and i took it out on you without even waiting for you to explain. i’m so sorry, baby.”

your breath hitches as you grasp onto his shirt, seeking out his comfort as he gathers up your scattered pieces. and comfort he gives, his hands massaging into your hair while he gently rocks you against him.

“i won’t leave you.” he mutters. “you can explain everything to me and then slap me for making you feel this way. just please don’t cry.”

there’s a short moment of quiet—other than your hiccuped breathing—before you speak up again. “…i’ve been working extra shifts to save up to vacation for our anniversary.”

gene freezes, his whole body going rigid before a shaky sigh leaves his lips. “i’m so fucking awful. i’m so sorry. i don’t deserve you. not at all.”

his hands knead into your skin, and he presses a kiss against the junction between your neck and shoulder. “please forgive me. what do you want me to do to make you feel better? do you want me to leave you alo—”

you tense up, fingers digging into his arms. “no, don’t leave me—”

“shh, i won’t ever leave you. i’m right here.” he presses another kiss against your neck. “i promise. i won’t leave again unless you scream for me to go away.”

𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭.

his words comfort you, but it’s not enough. you need him closer to you.

“what?” he whispers as your hands wring against his shirt, lifting his head to get a better look at your face. “what do you need?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your tears finally now at a stop as you pleadingly lift your face towards him, hands lowering to tug up against his tee. “you, please.”

his eyebrows furrow as he lets you place a kiss against his lips, though he draws back after a second, eyes darting across your face in search of any hesitation.

“are you sure this is what you need?”

you nod, eyebrows turning up as you pull yourself further up into him. “please…”

he releases a sigh as he gives in to your pleading, moving himself to fully hover over you. tilting his head he presses a soft kiss against your cheek, trailing a few more down your neck before he lifts himself up again.

“just tell me when you want me to stop,” he says as he shrugs his jacket off, dropping it over your torso as he moves further down to right between your legs.

the warmth of his body heat envelops you, and for a moment you’re too busy bringing the material up to your nose to breathe in the familiar and comforting scent of his cologne to realize he’d already tugged your pants off.

“let me make it up to you, yeah? i’ll make you feel good, i promise.” his arms wrap around your legs to hold you apart, the warm air from his lips sending a shock against your bare skin.

he hovers there for a moment until you nod from behind his hoodie, and once he sees your signal his tongue licks a flat stripe against your folds, holding your hips in place when they immediately jerk up.

“shh, just relax. lay back and let me take care of you.” he whispers, before driving his face back down between your legs.

running his tongue up your cunt again sends another pleasured jolt up your spine, making you arch your back and push yourself harder against his mouth. he stops by your clit, circling around it before fully sucking harshly against the bundle of nerves. your hips jolt again as the action pulls a sudden broken moan from your lips, making him pull back with hooded eyes and a set expression. 

“there you go, see? i got you.” one of his hands leaves your legs, while the other one kneads into your thigh. “good girl. my pretty girl.”

he returns his mouth to your pussy, pressing a few sloppy kisses to it as his finger slides into your hole, slowly pumping inside. he’s relishing in your little sighs and moans of pleasure, his own eyes rolling back while listening to how he was pleasuring you. it encourages him to suckle against your clit once more, the shake of his face against you distracting you from the second finger he’s slid in next to his first one.

he curls his fingers up—right in the spot he knows will have you weakly succumbing to the pleasure he gives you—and another cry leaves your lips, making him sigh in satisfaction.

“there you go.” he rasps, pulling his mouth away to take in the sight of you through his lust-filled gaze while his fingers speed up their pace. his chin and lips are wet with his saliva and your juices mixed together, though he barely seems to pay it mind as he drives back down again, lips pulling and sucking on your clit once again.

your head grows hazy from his ministrations, the shocks of pleasure turning mind-numbing as your skin burns hot. he knows exactly which spots to hit, which places to touch for you to quickly unravel beneath him. the tension that’s slowly built between your legs is coming to an unbearable peak, your lips silently crying out his name while your legs shiver against his shoulders.

“it’s okay, baby. let go.” he encourages you, suddenly crossing his fingers in a scissors motion.

his urging snaps you over the edge, your cunt spasming around his fingers as you fully let go. he continues to work his fingers through your release, slowly letting you down as he plays with the mess between your thighs.

“gene.” you whimper, the sensitivity of your previous emotions coming back full force as your climax leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“i’m right here, sweetheart.” he says, sitting up and pulling you up with him, setting you on his lap as he pulls you in a tight embrace, rubbing his hands against your back. “you did so good.”

“i love you.” you sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder as you let yourself melt against him.

“i love you too.” he sighs, turning his head to place a kiss against your temple. “i’m so sorry, sweet thing. why don’t we take a hot shower and rest and we can talk more about this later, hm?”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @bakugocanstompme

[cheolhub]

PLS DO DOM YEONJUN WITH NOONA READER I BEG U 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

SLXT! — CHOI YEONJUN ࿐

summary. jealousy makes you say some things you don’t really mean. good thing yeonjun is kind enough to teach you a lesson or two.

wc. 1.4k

warnings. MEAN DOM!YEONJUN, sub f!reader, heavy degradation, use of the word slut, face and throat fucking, light praise, throat pie (?), teasing cuz it’s yj, jealousy & possessiveness (v brief), light dumbification (?), yeonjun is sooo condescending :( — MINORS DNI 18+

note. heyyy, i didn’t proofread this at all and the ending kinda sucks, but ty for requesting this <333 i don’t write honorifics in any of my works, but i still hope u enjoy this :) it’s all over the place lol. p.s. if i miss anything in the warnings lmk!

yeonjun can be so mean when he wants to. :( don’t get him wrong, he loves you and is borderline obsessed with you– which is exactly the reason why you shouldn’t be talking back to him. or calling him names. or threatening to fuck his friends just because you’re jealous.  

now he has no other choice but to use you as his own personal fleshlight for the night. 

“so much to say now, huh?” yeonjun grunts as his hands push your face into his pelvis. you gag over his cock that is now lodged in your throat. “c’mon, lemme hear it, baby. what is it you called me again?” he pretends to think, humming in a near condescending manner. “an asshole? a piece of shit?”

his grip in your hair tightens, pulling you off him. you’re gasping, coughing, spluttering over your saliva– which also seems to be dripping and bubbling around your mouth and chin. he smirks at the sight of you, biting back a mean laugh. 

“why don’t you tell me the last thing you called me, sweetheart.” he coos, a soft hand cupping your mascara streaked cheek. his voice and ginger actions nearly deceive you, but as soon as you lean into his hand, he taps your cheek twice with a laugh, reminding you that he is anything but your sweet, loving boyfriend right now. “i said, tell me what you fuckin’ said, baby, or did sucking me off make you stupid again?”

you whine at his words, squeezing your thighs together as the dull ache in your cunt becomes unignorable. “called you a slut…”

“that’s right. and why did my pretty baby call me that?” he feigns innocence by showing you his infamous mock-pout. 

you frown remembering, “‘cuz…”

“‘cuz what?”

“‘cuz… i thought you were flirting with the bartender.” you mumble, eyes averting from his. 

yeonjun hums, “and instead of talking to me you went off and tried to get beomgyu’s dick wet–”

you object, eyebrows furrowing in anger at the accusation, “i didn’t!”

the hand tangled in your hair pulls harshly. he bends to where his face hovers right over yours. “don’t fucking lie to me. you and i both know there’s only one person here dumb enough to believe that lie ‘n you know it’s not me.” he spits. 

you barely remember it, honestly. the entire encounter prior to the moment you were in now was a blur. you were tipsy after two shots, and maybe you made it up, but after leaving the bathroom and seeing yeonjun laughing at the young, beautiful, giggly bartender, you may have… jumped to conclusions. 

you weren’t sure what to do, blood boiling at the way she looked at him as if he were the most fuckable man on earth. you (poorly) decided to spend the night with beomgyu and soobin instead. flirting, laughing, leaning into beomgyu with the most innocent smile and calling him all types of pretty names. 

yeonjun, if it weren’t already blatantly obvious, was angry. why had you given all of your attention to his best friend and not him? he knew something changed in your demeanor once you’d come back from the bathroom, but he wasn’t sure what.

“babe, what’s wrong with you?” he’d asked, pulling you outside the bar even though you’d told him you didn’t want to. “you’re acting weird.”

“and you’re an asshole!” you emphasized, poking him in the chest with your index finger. you know you’d never act like this if you had been closer to the right state of mind.

“what?” he asked, confusion filling his face. “how am i an asshole?”

“you’re such a piece of shit, i can’t believe you! you’re always flirting with other girls like a fucking slut,” you snapped, a deep scowl and red hot eyes over taking your features. 

“me? i’m the one who was flirting?” he scoffed. “sweetheart, need i remind you that you were two seconds from sucking beomgyu’s dick if i hadn’t stepped in.”

you laugh sarcastically, eyes rolling, “well, maybe i should go in there and do it!”

you don’t think you’d ever seen him so mad in your entire time of knowing one another. his hand gripped your smaller bicep and pulled you to the car, muttering “we’re going home,” under his breath. you immediately sobered up in said car, bringing up why you were so jealous and going as far as apologizing, but he told you to “save it.”

that’s how you ended up on your bruised knees on the hardwood with yeonjun fucking your face with his stupidly nice cock. 

“i-i-i was jus’ mad, junnie, ‘m sorry.” you try to excuse, but he just chuckles. 

“awww, you’re sorry? my stupid girl is sorry now?” he coos once more. “you call me a slut and then act like one with my best friend and now you’re sorry?” with every word, his tone grows harsher and so does the grip in your hair. 

you nod dumbly, his words making you shift slightly for the tiniest bit of friction. “please forgive me…” you plead softly, tears filling your eyes. 

“make me cum and i’ll think about it,” he hisses, standing to his full height and guiding himself back into your warm, wet mouth. he doesn’t even give you a chance to adjust before he’s shoving his cock down your constricting throat. 

he can’t even help but groan, because, fuck, is your mouth a godsend. looking down makes him even more vocal, seeing your eyes screwed shut as messy tears escape you and your swollen lips wrapped around his girth– you’re fucking gorgeous like this. 

yeonjun knows he’ll have to forgive you because he’s already so close with his hard cock twitching inside your throat. the fact that you’re taking him so well despite your inability to breathe properly is also sending him. 

your blunt nails dig into his thighs as you continuously gag and moan around him. your pussy is beyond soaked at this point and the pain from being untouched is unbearable. you’re so aroused by his dominance and roughness that you’re compelled to get yourself off on his shoe.

you decide against it, though, in attempts to salvage any dignity you have left. you go for rubbing your thighs together as roughly as possible instead, broken, high-pitched whines erupting in your throat and vibrating yeonjun’s length. 

“look at my little slut,” he pants, a smile adorning his face. “trying to get off while she sucks my cock. that’s cute, baby, really.” 

you sob, digging your nails deeper, sure to leave a mark in his delicious thick thighs. you manage to get your eyes open to see the beautiful sight of him before you. his hair sticking to his forehead, his mouth hanging open as he lets out his pretty moans, and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

you choke on his cock again, yet he has no mercy, fucking your face through everything. you gag and moan and make the lewdest sounds and it brings him all the more closer to his highly anticipated release. 

the icing on the cake for him is one of your hands leaving his thigh to hide in between your legs. you’re so desprate you can’t even wait and he finds it so fucking hot. 

“fuck, baby, ‘m gonna cum…” he moans, actions becoming even rougher. when you whine, he chuckles breathily. “yeah, you want that? want me to cum in this tight lil throat?” 

you attempt to nod your head, but it proves to be challenging, so you just eagerly gargle out, “mhm!”

your affirmation vibrates his entire body once more and he can’t seem to hold back.“fuck,” he mumbles, growing closer and closer– endless swears slipping from his mouth. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he nearly cries, pushing in and out of your throat, one, two, three times before he stills with a whine. his cum fills your throat and you do your best to swallow without choking, but your body betrays you. as soon as he pulls you off, you cough up his cum, letting it spill out of your mouth and dress your already-messy chin and neck. 

you’re panting for breath and your throat is sore, but he smiles. “did so well for me, pretty…”

your voice is hoarse and meek when it comes out, “am i forgiven?”

“‘course i forgive you. you’re all mine and i’m all yours, pretty girl, don’t forget that.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[em-harlsnow]

okay, I'm gonna go through my opinions on Trevor.

overall, I don't like him. I think the fandom as a whole has some pretty mixed feelings about him so that might annoy some people. Lots of people say they like him but they just prefer Mickey - I also prefer Mickey, but I want to talk about Trevor as a separate person.

firstly - the one most people talk about - the 'she apologised, move on' scene. I can't stand by him on that at all. he works with kids whose parents have hurt them, abandoned them and yet jumps to the conclusion that Ian should apologise? Honestly, I think that's stupid.

secondly - the one where he encourages Ian to 'fuck a chub' to get over his dead mother????? and then later he says 'grief changes you' as if he's got some insight on the world that Ian doesn't. it makes him seem like a sanctimonious asshole as well as somewhat hypocritical.

thirdly - the fact that he wouldn't allow Ian and him to be friends. like okay, fine, you think you're gonna fuck eventually but you still don't push someone like that. let them come to you at their own pace. he just comes across as pushy and a real dickhead.

overall, I'm not saying Trevor is a bad person, I don't think he's right for Ian and he comes across as very self-righteous. He's actually very much a good person which is seen by him trying to help all those kids and putting them first. Just because I think he's a good person doesn't mean I have to like him as a character though. I prefer more complex and morally grey characters, which don't come across as so high and mighty and don't give off 'I'm better than you' vibes. (he's not the only character that comes off like that - ahem Lip)

Clearly, he's used to be somewhat of a foil character for Mickey. he's everything Mickey wasn't. He's not Southside trash for one (not hating I love Mickey to death), he's comfortable in his sexuality and gender identity from the start of his on-screen character - I'm not saying anything about who he might have been before we meet him. He's not devoted to Ian like Mickey is - he's more focussed on work (not a bad thing) - and he's overwhelmingly legal in his work considering how every job Mickey had involved something illegal. he was meant to show everything that Mickey lacked, instead it left a gaping hole where Mickey should have been.

As a character, I think he lacks depth and seems to be pissed off at Ian in every scene I see him in.

Also, trevor didn't 'deserve better' with Ian. They both deserved different.

And - I didn't like their on-screen chemistry, especially when put next to gallavich I mean there's no competition.

I don't hate trevor, he just annoys me.

[19180901]

OSHSJSHSJSHSJSHJSNSSH I’M SO HAPPY THERES A NEW NINJAGO BLOGGFGGFFEHEHDHSHSHBD

OKAY OKAY OKAY WHAT IF LLOYD AND KAI (Seperate) GIRLFRIEND IS AN ELEMENTAL MASTER OF LAVA YES I KNOW ITS ALMOST LIKE KAI BUT THIS IS FANFICTION!

LIKE JANAI FROM THE DRAGON PRINCE WHENEVER SHE GETS LIKE REALLY ANGRY AND MY HOMEGIRL GOT SOME ANGER ISSUES HER ENTIRE BODY TURNS INTO LIKE LAVA TYPE OF SKIN AND THEY TRY TO CALM HER DOWN! IF YOU DONT WATCH THE DRAGON PRINCE I RECOMMEND WATCHING THIS

https://youtu.be/mIwidDvNins

JANAI STARTS TO TRANSFORM IN 01:04

OKAY SORRY FOR THE CAPS IM JUST SO EXCITED IM GONNA SHUT UP NOW

- 🌙

OMGAGAHSHAH IM KICKING MY FEET AND SCREAMING INTO MY PILLOW RN IM SO HAPPY I NEVER THOUGHT ID ACTUALLY GET REQUESTS AND LIKES AND SHIT LIKE THAT FROM THESE?? AAAAaaa a

IDK IF I SHOULD DO HCS OR A DRABBLE SO IM JUST GONNA DO HCS!! (SEND ME ANOTHER ASK IF YOU WANTED A DRABBLE, ILL MAKE ANOTHER VERSION !!)

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

⤵ YOU'RE SO UPSET WITH ME...

. . 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐕 - 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 .ᐟ

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

✣ . Kai and Lloyd (separate) x Master of Lava!fem!reader with anger issues !

➟ Lowercase intended.

➟ CW: Mild swearing, use of "princess" once. But overall it's just crack and fluff, and completely safe!

The timeline is up to you.

I didn't know if you were saying Janai had anger issues or the reader did, so I just gave the anger issues to the reader ahhajahahabba

I LOVE THE CONCEPT OF THIS SM

- <3

✣ . . 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇 .

oh boy, you were angry as fuck. and normally, he'd think he could handle your anger.

haha WRONG

girlie so mad she became lava. literally.

and he was scared. so, very, extremely scared.

you looked like you were about to wreck the whole monastery down😭

BUT kai being kai like the (adorable) dumbass he is, he thought that, as the elemental master of fire, naturally he'd be lava-proof.

lol wrong again woopsies💔

he tried to hold your hand to calm you down a bit but instantly regretted.

but once he saw you slightly calming down and lightly giggling at his absolute suffering, he had an idea.

he walked towards you to excute his stupid idea (which was doing tomfool-fucking-ries and other dumb stuff in your face to cheer you up;; which would have made you angrier), he tripped on the electro chicken thing and fell face-first on the floor.

he turned around onto his back, pain written all over his face, and groaned.

okay. well that was a fail.

but maybe not?!?@?@🤯🤯

still on the floor, he saw you, also on the floor, laughing your fucking ass off. he was about to pull out some sassy remark out of his ass when he saw that you were becoming like the usual again!

you were brushing your tears off, about to throw him some mocking comment when your breath was fucking squeezed out of your body because the mf you call your boyfriend jumped on you like some kid who met their dad again after 6 years.

"OH thank the first spinjitzu master you're not lava and angry anymore. pls don't do that again i'm sorry😞."

you couldn't do anything but just pat his head and accept his apology.

conclusion, angry y/n: -12/10 would not recommend.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣

✣ . . 𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐌. 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍 .

holy shit?? you were lava??@?

this dude had no fucking clue on what to do, or what was going on.

he is the definition of the standing emoji (🧍)

it's not that he doesn't wanna help you or anything, my boy just has no experience on the "how to calm down angry girlfriend that turns into lava without dooming yourself" field ykyk 😞

at first he thought about pouring a bucket of water on you.

but he got scared you'd turn into stone or obsidian or smth and he'd lose you forever💀

so no pouring water on lava s/o.

so instead, he did what he thought was the most reasonable and logical thing to do.

he (very carefully) sat you down on the couch (or bed, idk) and let you rant/vent about whatever or whoever made you so furious you pretty much changed the composition of your skin cells and unlocked some kind of new power or something.

you ranted and ranted, and he did nothing but listen to you ever so attentively.

once you were done, he comforted you the best he could.

"it'll be alright, you are so much better than them anyway."

"their opinion on you does not matter if it's negative "

"you're so beautiful, no one can rivalize with your beauty, princess."

"i love you so so much. <3"

"do you, by complete hazard and coincidence, have their address? i'm just gonna... pay them a nice little visit. 😇"

you love him so ofc you give it to him ha😊😊

anyway he goes to get your favorite food and once he comes back with it, you're happy again👍

he's so proud of himself for that it's so cute

and after that you both live together happily ever after and have as many kids as you want whenever you want.

the end😋

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

⤴ ...BUT I'M SO OBSESSED WITH YOU!

hihi hope you enjoyed this and don't forget to hit that follow and reblog button !!👍

© legoffection. Please do not repost my work on any platforms, plagiarize and heavily edit my work under any condition!

[jitterbugjive]

Something that really bothers me is when I used to say stupid shit years ago, instead of anyone just fucking talking to me and saying "Hey, this opinion is kind of shit and this is why..." they just archived what I said to use it against me later to prove I was a bad person

and seriously all it would have took to change my mind was pretty much anyone just explaining to me why what I was saying was problematic, because how the fuck was I supposed to know any better when I spent half of my life being groomed by someone who gave me those shitty opinions in the first place?

I had friends who disagreed with me and said NOTHING, opting to hold grudges against me for it instead and assuming I was just going to be like that always and that fucking hurts, man

I thought I have always shown myself to be the kind of person who is willing to change if I'm just shown why my thinking was off.

So word of advice, if someone has a bad take, maybe consider calmly explaining to them why it's a bad take, instead of just jumping to the conclusion that they're a bad person. If they show a refusal to change after the fact, then you could consider that they actually won't change. And for godsake don't outright attack them because generally no one is going to react well to being attacked.

[y-rhywbeth2]

I think it would've been funny if instead of being a dragonborn by default, the Dark Urge was literally an actual white dragon.

For shenanigans.

[Disclaimer that this idea is ridiculous and I don't care.]

The bhaalspawn plot twist is largely obvious to players of BG1+2 and those who've already completed the game. Who'd see the twist that you've forgotten that you're dragon in disguise coming? If you play another origin they'd make a good excuse to add a brainstealer dragon boss battle. Alternatively, if you take the ceremorphosis ending, you play as one.

Plus white dragons instinctually lean towards being brutal, vengeful little bastards in a manner Bhaal would probably approve of and due to their slow development would be very easy to corrupt from a young age… but my motivation is still mostly for shenanigans.

Living most of their life in a city, I imagine they're used to being in humanoid form. They had a sibling rivalry with Abazigail, as the only other dragon they know ("White dragons are weaker and inferior to Blues." - "I'm sorry, I'm too stupid to remember something, can you remind me? Of the two of us, who's a dead failure who disappointed Father?").

They got shanked by Orin in humanoid form and just woke up with brain trauma and assumed they were whatever humanoid they appear to be. Sure they have some ancestral draconic memory and speak draconic, but that's just a sign of having a dragon ancestor. It's not that weird! It might also seem strange when they start growling at the Githyanki dragon steeds, but going by some dialogue Durge growls at people anyway so it won't even stand out that much. At least the "human flesh smells tasty" thing makes sense now?

Lacking any memories of past enemies to plot against, dragon Durge simply adds their new friends' enemies to their list of grudges.

Those of us who play by looting everything in sight and refusing to share it with the party members have a valid reason; dragon hoard. Yes I do need to break my back carrying all of the money, enchanted weapons and six thousand books I'll never read; no, we're not selling any of it, fuck off.

We get to act 3 and the party gets the Bhaalspawn reveal possibly followed up by "also I'm a dragon." ("what the Actual Fuck.") Gale has already formed a hypothesis about Durge's true species, but we should also get to play Sharks Are Smooth over it. You get the standard -30 disapproval from Gale, but if Astarion is there he'll also want to play and you get 30 approval from him and Gale's disapproval doubles to -60.

Lae'zel as our resident horse dragon girl would rather travel with a red, but perhaps a mere white dragon will do for a steed in the meantime. It's training for her future, you understand.

I want to pick up Mizora with teeth and shake her like a dog with a chewtoy when she invades my camp to torment Wyll and refuses to leave. Maybe throw her around like an orca with a seal…

Romanced Wyll, Shadowheart or Gale introducing them to their parent/s (+Tara, in Gale's case) would be fun to watch.

Duke Ravenguard has hopefully learnt his lesson about not jumping to conclusions and hearing Wyll out and showing some tolerance for what appears to be an evil alliance, but a chromatic dragon sired by the god of murder who's also a reformed serial killer might be putting some tension on that... Maybe leave some details out.

The Hallowleaves are remembering the tolerance their Selûnite faith espouses and that they too are a loving couple involving one person who is technically a monster but I feel like Arnell is still on some level internally going; whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.

I think Ms Dekarios will be mostly unphased. She's a wizard herself and Gale's been bringing weird shit into her life since he was born. Her son came home with a dragon for a fiancé/e. Sure. Must be Tuesday.

[cookieblobber]

Fast Friends Forever and it’s Fulfilling Step-Forward

So, the official Sonic accounts online posted a video dubbed what you see already in the image

At first glance, it’s just a little celebratory ad video collage of how Sonic has helped people make friends due to interests of the franchise and all. But when you fully realize the impact and implications this ad has just by this logo, it’s one of the most satisfying and vindicating moments in this franchise.

————————

One of the biggest issues this franchise has suffered was this total hatred of Sonic’s “stupid friends”. Ever since the jump to 3D, there was a bigger focus on Sonic’s friends; instead of just being run and jump characters who play like Sonic with a new ability to make traversal and platforming unique with them like in the classic games, they were given more unique playstyles way different from Sonic, at least in the Adventure games. Knuckles with his treasure hunting, Amy with her more slower paced platforming and hammer bashing, Tails who initially tagged along with Sonic’s gameplay started using a mech in SA2. In Heroes, they would be in groups of three like SA2, but they were taken a step back and playing more like the classic games where they act like Sonic running and jumping, but have more abilities to them that’s beneficial to whatever path requires their ability. You were able to swap members in a group around to choose whichever path you wanted. 06 kinda does a mix of both Adventure and Heroes - Tag Team gameplay like Sonic Heroes, but giving them back their more unique playstyles like Knuckles and Rouge doing treasure hunting, but still trying to not entirely change the gameplay to feel like it’s completely different from Sonic himself.

——————————

I don’t think I perfectly explained each game well but you get the gist, they used their friends a lot more often in 3D and made them a core part of the full experience; you couldn’t play as just Sonic anymore, you had to play as the other characters too. Understandably to some, this could get a bit annoying; having to constantly adjust to a brand new character every second, what a fucking skill issue but it could get disorienting, especially in games like SA2.

So, one would think the logical conclusion would be for Sonic Team to try and dial them back and make them more akin to the classic games where they had the same movements like Sonic, but had one or two abilities to make them unique enough that it feels like a new playthrough, maybe add in some paths only they could access that Sonic couldn’t, and not make it required where you have to play as those other characters mid-game to progress.

.

.

.

…unfortunately Sonic 06 crashed and burned and SEGA/Sonic Team scrambled to get things fixed by overcorrecting the problem.

When Sonic 06 failed, this was (as you can guess) a very critical breaking point in the franchise. All the issues people had with the franchise were being aired out left and right, some understandable critiques like how the game could ever be released in such a state, most being really awful ones, the whole “Sonic and his stupid friends” shtick was one of them as 06 made people think they were just useless trash who offered nothing to the games and only got in Sonic’s way. So they decided to just make Sonic and only Sonic playable going forward

It got to a point where they treated the lack of friends like it was a great thing to advertise for a 2D game that was supposed to be this return to form (Sonic 4).

I’m sorry to rant like a nerd for a second but, this was so stupid when you consider the fact the old days did the complete opposite of this.

Ever since Sonic 2, you met a new character who you’d be able to play as. Other Sonic media like shows or comics around that time involved Sonic having friends and allies along his side. Hell, ever since before Sonic fucking 1 was ever fully conceptualized, the idea of Sonic having friends and even a girlfriend was on the devs’ minds.

While spin-offs like Riders, Chronicles, and All-Stars would let you play as other characters, still undeniably it was disappointing that the next BIG title of the franchise wasn’t really featuring the other characters as playable and just sorta random background characters. Even in Generations, celebrating the franchise’s history, still lacked even just at least a model swap or something but that might’ve been boring.

————————

It would take until 8 years later, we would finally get to see Tails, Knuckles, and even Amy to be finally playable again…in Sonic Boom 🥲.

If 06 being the last time other characters were playable wasn’t painful enough, the next time it happened and it would be an even worse disaster than 06, especially with how hyped up this new spin-off was as this like new direction for the franchise, it just seemed like there was no hope we’d get to see these characters finally playable properly in some way again. But then, a beacon of light shined through.

Sonic Mania brings back Tails and Knuckles once again as playable characters. Dude, the fucking crowd shouted when Knuckles was shown in the trailer, it was that big of a deal. Sure, this was a 2D game, but it was close enough that it helped the general public remind everyone what truly made the 2D games on Genesis so great, and what made Sonic’s friends memorable and unique. With Mania receiving its high praise and new DLC reintroducing Mighty and Ray, it was safe to assume these characters were definitely going to be coming back at some point.

Forces also tried to bring in some hype with Shadow as DLC but, he was just an simple skin swap of Sonic and was only playable for 3 levels. So not too much to note sadly.

As we head over to the next 3D game, Sonic Frontiers, it reintroduced the world these characters’ struggles and attributes. Amy’s want to help the little ones in need, Knuckles’s loneliness and ancestral burden, Tails’ lack of self-confidence and over-dependence of Sonic. Sonic was still the only one playable, but it was nice seeing them play some sort of major noticeable role in progressing the story.

And then lives were changed

Just a few weeks after release, free DLC was announced, showing the final one will be Tails, Knuckles, and even Amy Rose will be playable soon. Now, at the time of me writing this, they are still yet to be playable, so I can’t say if they’re that good or not, but just seeing these characters be announced to be playable in a 3D Sonic game that has finally found success among the gaming community, it’s so exciting to finally see happen, and only one can imagine what kind of abilities they will bring themselves.

Speaking of DLC, Sonic Origins announced Amy as a brand new character to play within the old games, further starting to make Amy a true part of the main cast of characters than just the three boys.

And Sonic Superstars coming up soon, another 2D momentum based platformer akin to the Genesis games where not only will you get to play as the 4 again, but local co-op will be available for the first time. And what’s so crazy is: this feels exactly like this right balance I talked about earlier. Dialing back the characters to where they’re not mandatory to play as all of them to progress the game, giving them one unique moveset of some kind (as apparently the 7th emerald will grant characters a character specific ability), and giving them more character specific paths that others may not access, as shown recently with how there’s apparently Acts made specifically for Knuckles, Amy, etc.

Slight off topic but, Superstars truly does feel like a true evolution from the classic momentum formula. That’s not to discredit something like Sonic Advance, just…think of it more like branching paths, you know? Advance series evolves the 2D formula by slowly molding into something more unique with experimental playstyles ala boost and tag team, and Superstars more so plays it safer and retains what makes the fundamentals of 2D formula work and tries to work with what it already has. Both succeed in evolving the 2D gameplay in their own right.

——————————

So, I just gave you a whole history lesson of Sonic’s friends in the games, but how the hell does it relate back to this Fast Friends Forever logo?

To me, this logo and ad campaign solidifies this new era of Sonic the Hedgehog. For the first time ever, Sonic’s friends are mascots of something in the franchise. It’s not just Sonic’s face in that logo, his other 3 allies are involved too. SEGA is proudly and unapologetically showing off the other 3 as an important part of Sonic’s identity and what makes him so well loved and intriguing.

After years of Tails, Knuckles, Amy, being shafted in the sidelines, just being supporting background characters and at times flanderized, it’s a beautiful sight to see them finally be given respect, treated to be just as big of a deal as the main face of the franchise, and showcases there is more to come in future out of these characters going forward.

Fast Friends Forever, indeed.

[skepticalarrie]

do people really believe Louis was clueless that 1d would go on a hiatus and he genuinely believed the band would get back together and that's why he didn't think of his solo career? meanwhile the other boys did but no one thought to inform him? I've seen so many of those takes on twitter and even on tumblr too which they basically pity poor louis like he is naive or worse, an idiot. meanwhile louis is the smartest dude that knows the industry like the palm of his hand and is always two steps ahead. they really underestimate Louis and i don't blame them cause that's the light louis paints himself in that interview for his own reasons which once again we can't know. but it still shocks me how easily manipulated people's opinions are.

I just- I think people are jumping to all kinds of weird conclusions because of this interview and I don't think what he said is even that telling?! He probably never really spoke about the hiatus so openly, but he definitely said similar things before around 2017-2018. It's common knowledge that Louis had a hard time accepting the hiatus.

I don't think Louis was blindsided and I don't think that's what he's saying AT ALL. C'mon, Louis didn't sit in the corner and let people decide things for him and that's not what he's implying here. I just think that what he's saying is that he didn't want it and that it was hard for him because he didn't really have a clear vision of what his solo career may be like, Liam and Harry signed big deals right away and that's scary as fuck if you have a history like Louis has. It doesn't mean they all wanted the hiatus except him, it doesn't mean people were not telling him things. I think all of them would like to stay in the band... but for me, it's pretty clear that at some point the situation in the band became unsustainable for some of them. I mean, they all knew how complicated it would be to take a break, I don't think any of them could predict what would happen and how things would go as solo artists. And that's what I think he's saying when he talks about the fact he wanted more direct answers when the hiatus came up, but I don't think anyone had the answer, they just had to go for it. And Louis doesn't like that, he's a practical person, he wants a plan, he wants things his way.

So although I think his answer is honest, it makes people read between the lines and lean towards - once again - an angle where Harry was the one who wanted the hiatus and Louis was miserable about it. And that's unfortunate and couldn't be further from the truth. None of them ever said the hiatus came specifically from one of them, Louis never blamed Harry for that. And Harry never said he wanted to "break free" from the band... tabloids were saying he wanted to go solo since 2013, but the one who dropped the band was Zayn. Tabloids kept saying Harry wanted to be a solo musician, but the first thing he did when they finally went solo was to act in a movie instead. And to this day, he has nothing but amazing things to say about the others and his time in the band. So it really sucks how they're willing to play along with all of these stupid rad narrative...

[gloryundimmed]

@astarablaze Continued from here.

Since the first day he met Loux, his insecurity had grown like a brain-eating bacteria, starting as minimal irritation when the blond was too busy for him. Slowly, over months spent with Loux that ascertained him in a prominent position in his life, it ballooned into crippling anxiety. Paranoia. The one person who had ever meant anything to the hitman wasn't spending time with him, wasn't talking to him, wasn't even coming over and getting high or fucking him like he usually would. It didn't take much for Kai's poisoned mind to jump to conclusions.

He's found someone else. He has no interest in me anymore. I knew this would happen. No one in this universe would find someone like me worth it.

It was incredible, though. Even as he confronted Loux and fought with him, found himself pinned to the floor, nearly getting choked, the violence felt so good. Every second of adrenaline and physical contact with the blond was perceived by his brain as pure pleasure, hot pins and needles of a powerful hormone injecting themselves into his bloodstream— oxytocin. Fuck. Every touch, every conversation, every drug-ridden afterglow, every dangerous situation undertaken together, every violent moment, he was glad to exist in his boyfriend's gaze, if even for just for mere fleeting seconds.

So, the way his hands firmly gripped Loux's wrists was not to deter him from the action of choking him, but instead to assure him it was okay.

If you want me dead, it's okay. But only if it's you.

A death by Loux's hands would be one of the happiest this world could offer. To die in his arms would be such a wonderful way to die. It would be a death at the hands of his partner, the ying to his yang and the only one who truly understood him. The only one who had accepted him— every murderous, fucked up piece— and loved him for them, not despite them. After sharing a life with Loux, he could not imagine one without him. So if the blond was going to leave him, Kai would wholeheartedly accept his desire to kill him.

But— those stormy eyes, those grey vortexes of violent lightning and rain, gazed down at him with something different than a desire to kill. 'Don't be stupid,' he said. Then... 'I love you'. Twice.

Fiery golden eyes widened, and his grip on Loux's wrists weakened. Hearing the blonde say that if he died, he might as well be dead, too, caused tears to gather in his eyes that he barely noticed. Like this, underneath his boyfriend's warmth and body weight, he couldn't say he ever loved him more. The way he expressed his guilt and his apology ran deeper than just words. It was written in every action and emotion on his face as he spoke.

"Loux, babe..." His voice was low and tender, emotion choking him up. He hadn't found someone else. Somehow, his boyfriend still wanted him, wanted to live with him and sleep with him and trip with him and fuck shit up with him. The way his words silenced the insecurity in his mind was like a fucking miracle. All he wanted now was to be closer to Loux. Impossibly close, so close they would never be apart.

His hands rose to find a home in the messy blond hair he adored for the way it mirrored Loux's wild nature, much like his own, and brushed it away from his stunning grey eyes. "I love you so, so fucking much." The hitman wrapped his legs around his boyfriend's waist and began grinding against him.

"Fuck me, baby, fuck me so hard that you become part of me." he breathed, bringing the blond down for a passionate kiss. "Show me you won't leave."

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

Can you PLEASE let us know the story of why you thought Macklemore was assassinated in a thrift shop? I can't stop thinking about your tags

the honest answer is that I have no idea why or how I actually started believing this, but I do distinctly remember that nobody had ever told me — there was no prank involved, thinking macklemore got shot to death in a thrift shop was something that was 100% all me. for context, this was something I thought from around 2013-2018. if you’re familiar with macklemore you’ll know this was after he dropped thrift shop (song), and also during an active album release (gemini, in 2017). as I said before, I don’t know what prompted me to end up thinking he was dead. but I do remember exactly what I thought happened, which I will now present as follows

1. macklemore is fatally shot in a thrift shop some time in late 2013

2. it’s all over the news (????????) and, thanks to his 2012 song thrift shop, is regarded as some sort of grand ironic shakespearean tragedy

3. a conspiracy begins to grow that this wasn’t a robbery gone wrong but, in fact, a targeted assassination of macklemore specifically

4. fuel is added to the fire when in 2016, from supposedly beyond the grave, macklemore drops his song drug dealer, which is about how reagan and the cia pushed drugs into low income communities, a tradition which is now being carried on by big pharma. obviously this has to mean something

5. I am young. I am stupid. I have the entire internet (????????) on my side. macklemore. was assassinated by the cia

6. in 2017, macklemore drops an entire album. instead of jumping to the logical conclusion that I must have imagined his death and the subsequent controversy, I go “wow. it’s really cool how macklemore’s good friends are putting out his unreleased work even though the cia might tried to silence him. I hope they’re safe from the vengeful spirit of ronald reagan”

7. sometime in 2018, I finally actually see livestreamed video of macklemore on tv in what is clearly the present year, and I am snapped out of my admittedly very funny delusion

as of now I have two leading theories about why/how this whole thing happened

theory #1 is that it was a recurring dream that progressed in real time. I have another dream that’s like this (term search “fuck park”, I think I’ve talked about it before), but the setting is unrealistic enough that I could always easily classify it as Not Real. the macklemore thing was, I guess, just too plausible for a tweenage me to dismiss as a dream

theory #2 is that it was a legitimate full on delusion. this is also a thing that I have experience with. I thought I was an experimental killer robot for four years straight once. but I know why I had that delusion — this one makes no sense whatsoever. I have no idea why I would have such a detailed delusion about something so unrelated to me, let alone something as random as macklemore

for a while in late 2018-2019 I thought it might be a mandela effect thing, but the more people I brought it up to, the more I realized I was maybe the only person on planet earth who held this belief, which makes no fucking sense to me because I distinctly remember it being talked about on the news and later theorized about online. there was a televised macklemore funeral that I to this day can recall specific details from

so who knows. at this point it could be that maybe I’m from another dimension where the only significant change is that macklemore was assassinated in a thrift shop in late 2013. it’s kind of just an unsolved mystery at this point because like how the fuck would you ever even begin to prove that

that being said, I’m making this a public call to action. of any of you reading this remember anything even remotely similar PLEASE let me know

[sapphire-weapon]

May I ask why exactly you dislike Infinite Darkness? I thought it had a pretty solid story and I found Leon pretty good. I'd love to hear your elaborated opinion. :)

I haven't watched ID since it first came out, so I can't give you a super detailed breakdown of it, but here's what I do remember:

I felt like the writers didn't know what they wanted Leon to actually be in terms of like... which side of his character they wanted to show off. He seems to go through sudden mood swings, and I remember at several points just being like "Dude he's all over the place. Is he off his meds or what's going on here?"

There were a lot of moments that were just logistical nonsense. Again, I can't remember exactly, but I do remember going "so are they ever going to explain that?" And "how the fuck did she even get there?" At several points.

Like, I do remember Leon fucking shooting Jason in the heart for treason, but when Shen May engages in the exact same shit that Leon called treason, he just went "WELL I'LL JUST SEE WHERE THIS GOES IG. DON'T WANNA JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS..." like homie you just fucking murdered a man over this what do you mean???? I know you want to fuck her but Jesus christ.

Infinite Darkness did Claire so dirty that I straight up cannot remember what the fuck she was even doing in it. The only thing I remember about Claire in ID is her getting kidnapped and having to rescue herself. And then she and Leon get into a big dumb fight at the end, AND THE FIGHT ITSELF MAKES NO SENSE

omg it's coming back to me now. If Leon's intention was to withhold evidence from Claire, why the fuck bother to tell her that he'd salvaged the evidence at all?? There was no fucking reason for him to do that. Like, was he trying to just hold it over her head and be a dick about it? What the fuck was the intention there? "hey Claire I got the thing that you've spent the entire plot duration looking for. And I'm not going to give it to you. See? See it in my hand? I have it. Not for you, though. Get fucked."

And then for Claire to get that pissed at him and rag on him for his bad judgement and decision-making and then NOT throw Sherry in his face or mention her at all is like... why. What's the point. Why did you manufacture this stupid drama between them when there was already something there that you could have used that was more organic and would make more sense???

ESPECIALLY SINCE THE WHOLE THING WAS ABOUT HOW UNTRUSTWORTHY THE GOVERNMENT IS AND HOW THEY DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT SURVIVORS OR RACCOON CITY AT ALL AND

I'm getting mad all over again LMAO

And also like!! The whole thing with Leon having a crisis about how he doesn't feel like a hero YET STILL LOOKS ASHLEY'S DAD IN THE FACE EVERY SINGLE DAY AND THE SHOW GOES OUT OF ITS WAY TO SHOW PHOTOS OF HER?? There was no acknowledgement of the fact that Leon actually saved her and did do a good thing, and I don't know why or how they just missed it and instead had to resort to that Patrick jobber to try to tell Leon "no it's OK man you're still a hero to me" like what the fuck

And the fucking

Villainous plot

It was the fucking Jenova Project. IT WAS JUST THE JENOVA PROJECT. Someone in the US government played FF7 and then turned around and went "HEY I GOT A REALLY BAD IDEA" and started putting dudes in tubes and fucking with their genetic makeup.

I actually said the words out loud while watching "so is Jason Sephiroth??????"

Shen May's entire character was completely worthless, she accomplished nothing and died for nothing. And Jason trying to give a sad, dramatic monologue while he's a big gross bulging Birkin monster was one of the funniest things in RE ever, and that was super not the intention by the writers for that scene.

It was just a mess. It was a mess of missed opportunities and bad plot decisions made by stupid characters who accomplish nothing.

[radhyena]

You can disagree with someone and still respect them. I don’t like how many radical feminists immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion of someone because of something in their life.

Trust me, there’s a lot of people in my life that I love and support that follow shit I don’t support because life is more complicated than cutting people off easily. Than cutting people off online. Everyone you meet online has their own life, own background, own culture own circumstances that you can’t possibly understand. So when they say something that to you might be insanely stupid or problematic and so obvious… they might not know that! Or to them it isn’t a big deal!

That isn’t saying to put up with everything. By all means call them out, but you don’t have to throw out the baby with the bath water. I can respect many of you that I don’t agree with you.

You can have a disagreement without suggesting the person is evil. Or horrible. It doesn’t mean everything they say now means nothing. Again it feels like people have that instinct to just find a reason to demonize the woman. Oh good a reason why she’s impure.

And then there’s that form of arguing you all take on where you say “NO ONE has shown me a reason without being bias!” And then finding little bias and this happens on both side because again you’re looking for confirmation that you’re right instead of looking for an actual argument.

Idk. Just tired of it. We should be able to accept when we are wrong. When our mutuals are wrong. I’m so glad we can have a Tumblr feminist community but some of you get so cliquey immediately and won’t admit your or your friends flaws.

Anyway, just be open to conversation. I’ve been open on my opinion on shit, if I’m ever disrespectful let me know because I try avoid it but I fuck up too. Always call me out when you have to. Let’s just talk and debate and learn. This world isn’t getting better by us hating each other.

*also none of this applies to genuine bigotry and shit and there’s a lot of discussion to be had for that but I think this a lot. Not just for current problems

[aamalaaa]

sunrises & liquor (m) | myg

pieces of a puzzle

pairing: yoongi x reader

series: sunrises & liquor

rating: m(18+); cursing, alcohol consumption, smut, explicit content

genre: bar workers au, barman yoongi au, (kinda) forbidden relationship, angst, fluff, smut

summary: after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.

warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption (duh), soft smut, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks), angst, reader has issues (but is working through them), THEY TALK(?!!!), talks of toxic patterns

a/n: welcome, you lovely readers, to the final official chapter of this story! I had planned on telling you guys a bit before hand but I honestly didn't realize it was the last until I was writing it. Nonetheless, this is a very emotional one and I'm terribly happy with it. I've grown so fond of these characters it's kinda hard to say goodbye tbh. Fear not, I've been planning an epilogue to properly say goodbye to them. <3

chapter word count: 7.2k

previous | epilogue

-

-

How do you know, when you’ve made the right choice? 

It’d be childish to say that when you've made the right decision you feel at peace or content with it, like we’re told more often than not.

Truth is, sometimes making the ‘right’ decision hurts more than the contrary. It tears you apart, fills you with doubts about yourself, the world and the people around you. It can shake your beliefs and change the way you view things.

And sometimes there isn’t a good decision per say. Sometimes, you have to choose the lesser evil. Sometimes there’s only a string of bad options you have to pick out of, and you really wish you wouldn’t have to be the one to do it.

But what exactly is right and wrong anyway? You’re not sure anymore, not after all that happened in the past few months. Not after what happened last weekend.

Not after you willingly walked away from not just a good thing, but a great thing. 

And you’ve been wracking your brain all week to try and figure out if you made a good call, breaking things off with Yoongi. Because the only other option is too painful to face now. 

You’re absolutely aware that you can’t hide your face in the sand forever, not without consequences. But you also know that you’re too fragile, right this instant, to come to the conclusion that you may have fucked up one of the best things you could’ve had.

Because you’ve never had him, you could’ve, but you never did. And sometimes that’s worse, isn’t it? To get a taste of what you could have, if you weren’t completely fucked up. It makes you regret every decision you’ve ever taken to bring you to this point, and that’s just no way to live, truthfully.

But now, you’re way too damaged to ever taint him with the inky darkness that seeps out of your every pore. You’ve done enough damage as it is, and he deserves better. So much better.

Yoongi’s a good man, an honest man. And from your own experience, that’s rare. He deserves someone who’ll be able to trust him, not jump to conclusions whenever they think they overhear something. Because he’s never been anything if not honest with you, and yet you weren’t able to give him your trust, like he had done.

Instead you accused him of something completely stupid and didn’t even give him a chance to explain before you went on a rampage, destroying everything that you had managed to build in the mere days you’d gotten to know each other a little more deeply. 

That’s not something you wish to impose on him again. He’d never do the same to you, you’re sure of it.

And it fucking sucks to realize you’re just not good enough for him, how you wish you were.

Which is why you’ve been sulking all week, not responding to messages from Namjoon, Jimin or even Taehyung. The only message you had sent was to your best friend, when he had said he was coming over.

You even manage to end up being a shitty friend, which is a completely new low even for you.

It is what it is. 

It’s not that you don’t want to see them, it’s more that you don’t want the endless questions that come with it, the inevitable attempts to make you change your mind. You need to stand your ground, for once in your life.

So you lay in bed instead, under mountains of sheets and fluffy blankets. You don’t even have anything to remind you of him, not a ring he’d have left when he came over, not even a shirt you’d ‘borrowed’ one of the nights you had stayed over at his place.

And it fucking hurts, because you miss him so much it actually physically pains you. Mind you, you’ve had your fair share of deception and love gone bad in the messy amalgamation that is your life. But this one hurts differently, it’s truly almost unbearable. 

You don’t just miss him, like a man stuck in a desert for days would miss water, need it. No, you’re also incredibly mad at yourself for fucking this up beyond repair. For not being the person you wish you were. 

You had once said you never lived a life of regrets, instead choosing to see your mishaps as lessons and signs that you had lived something good. 

Now, you have regrets. 

And you don’t know how to coexist with them.

-

-

You should’ve expected Yoongi not to be there on Friday night, when you begrudgingly got to work. But you didn’t foresee it still, and it stung like nothing else ever did before. You realized it was truly over, and that you had hurt him so much that he couldn’t even face you for the time being.

You ignored your friends’ questions and concerns all throughout the night, though they managed to bring warmth to your frozen, weeping heart.

Seokjin ended up taking his place at the bar, and honestly, he somehow managed to make you laugh a little despite your state of mind, considering how fucking hilarious it was to see him struggling to keep up with the influx of orders. 

At some point, a random guy tried to flirt with you, and though normally you would brush it off and simply go on with your tasks, this time you almost lashed out at him. Because how dare he try and take Yoongi’s place? 

It’s absolutely dramatic and the guy probably would’ve hoped, at best, to land a good lay at the end of the night.

But you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.

You got home that night and cried yourself to sleep, because the whirlwind of emotions you’ve had to deal with for the past few days now is just too much for you to handle. 

It’s too intense, overwhelming, too raw and it keeps on opening up old scars that you never thought would be at the elements’ mercy again.

It’s all your fault. 

You woke up the next morning feeling like you had drunk a forty ounce bottle of whiskey the night before. 

Except you didn’t, and you really fucking need to stop crying yourself to sleep.

You tiredly got up and made yourself coffee, drinking half of it before throwing the rest down the drain. You took a shower, put on a simple black dress paired with two wings of eyeliner, mascara and concealer to hide the growing bags under your eyes.

It took everything in you not to just call in sick and lay in bed rewatching ‘P.S. I Love You’, just to see somebody suffer more than you do.

So you grabbed your keys, inhaled deeply and locked the door to your apartment, unprepared for a night of suffering.

Which brings you to this exact moment, both legs wobbling as you stand a few blocks away from your workplace, a tight knot in your throat.

Surely Yoongi couldn’t have missed both nights, right? 

Wrong.

How wrong you were. 

Your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you walk in and up the stairs, noticing Samantha’s dark head of hair awaiting you behind the bar counter. 

“Hey! You ready for tonight?” She inquires, a wide smile stretching her plump lips. 

“Um- yeah,” You clear your throat as you make your way behind the bar, “Is Yoongi not coming in tonight?” 

The look on her face is enough to let you know she knows what’s been happening. “No.. he’s sick.”

Sick. Yeah.

“We’ll have fun though, don’t worry! It’s been ages since I’ve worked the Saturday night shift!”

“Yeah, I’m excited for us to work a busy shift together,” You try your best to seem at least a little enthusiastic. “Though, just a warning, I’m not drinking tonight.” 

She laughs lightly at this. “No worries, me neither, I drank enough for three people last night.” 

“Was it your birthday and I spaced out or something?” 

“Ahhh no, don’t worry, my birthday’s in June.” She starts, fiddling nervously with her thumbs. 

“Actually, I kinda met someone two weeks ago and we’ve been hitting it off like crazy.. we might have gone overboard last night.” She giggles sheepishly.

“Oh!” You clap your hands excitedly. Finally, some good news. “And who could that gentleman be?”

You notice a wild blush taking over her cheeks.

“Actually.. her name’s Lisa.” 

“Do I know her?” You ask excitedly.

Sam shakes her head no. “Well.. actually maybe. She’s been here a few times, though that’s not how I’ve met her. Weird coincidence uh?” 

“Damn, that’s wild! Well, if you ever feel like bringing her over to one of our gatherings, I’d be so happy to officially meet her!”

Before you know it, you’re wrapped up in a warm embrace. “Once we know what’s what, I will for sure. Thanks babe.” 

You both part after a few seconds, a wide smile stretching your lips, the gesture enough to make you forget your worries for a few moments.

“Of course, you deserve all the happiness in the world Sammy.” You take her hand in yours, overcome by emotions.

You don’t exactly know why you’re so happy about this, you just are. 

Sam gives your hand a light squeeze. “So do you. You know that, right?” 

You gaze at the ground, unsure what to reply. Because you don’t deserve all the happiness in the world, not like Samantha does.

“Babe..” 

A loud cheer startles the both of you,

“Oh hell yeah! We have Sammy on the floor tonight!”

Sam smiles gently at the young man. “Kookie, can you give us a moment, please? There’s a few kegs you can swap in the fridge.” 

Jungkook looks confused for a moment, before realization dawns on him and he finally reads the room, his jovial expression morphing into one of utmost seriousness.

“Yeah ok.. If you need me I’ll be next to the cucumbers, freezing my ass off.” 

And just like that he leaves the both of you alone, a serious atmosphere immediately settling over the room.

Samantha tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear before speaking again,

“Look.. I know what happened. Yoongi told me. Actually, he called me at four in the morning, crying about how he messed up the best thing he could’ve ever had.”

Your heart aches at her words, you feel the sharp sting of tears behind your eyes, threatening to spill endlessly over the makeup you had carefully put on. 

“Not saying that didn’t slightly bruise my ego, but, I kinda got the gist of it all.” She sighs. “Thing is, I’ve never seen Yoongi this fucking enamored with anyone, not even me, no matter how much that sucks for me to admit.” 

Your bottom lip wobbles and you capture it between your teeth. “Which is exactly why this couldn’t work, Sam.” Your voice breaks mid sentence and you take a deep breath before continuing. “’I’m not good for him, I can’t give him back all that he gives me. How is that fair to him?” 

She stares you down, bewilderment swimming in her eyes. “What are you even talking about? Have you not seen how happy he’s been? And if you didn’t, then believe me at least.” 

She brings a hand up to your hair, stroking delicately as you desperately try to keep your tears at bay.

“You may have misheard him, expected the worse from him. And you know what? I don’t blame you, neither does he. He’s not exactly an angel, you know. And he does have trouble communicating at times, which is why it’s not that surprising that you came to the conclusion that he just didn’t care.”

A single teardrop escapes your right eye. “But what does that say about us, if I don’t trust him?”

“It means that you guys have to work on your communication skills.” She chuckles, swiping a thumb under your eyes to get rid of the tear that had slipped. 

“It also means that you’re both human and have issues, like we all do. Doesn’t make you unworthy of each other. You just have to work hard to make it work. You have to really want it.”

She pauses for a brief moment, gazing straight into your eyes. “Do you?”

You sniffle as more tears stream down your face, your insecurities now unleashed for all to see. 

“I do..” 

Samantha cups your face, shaking you up as she does so. “Then push through this, I know you can.” 

“But wha-“ 

“Ok I’m done freezing, can I come back now, please?” Jungkook asks in a tiny, high pitched tone.

You chuckle blaringly, drying your tear tracts with the palm of your hand. “Come here Kookie.”

The busboy steps behind the bar, an unsure look in his eyes. “I’m sorry it’s just- the cucumbers are boring and it’s cold in there, you know? And-“

You engulf the man in a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist, your head now laying snuggly on his broad chest. You feel him deflate and he twines his strong arms around you, pecking softly at the top of your head as he does so. 

“I was worried about you..”

You nuzzle further into his secure embrace. “You know I love you, right?” 

You hear him chuckling, can imagine just fine the wide toothy grin on his face. “I know. And I love you too.”

Sam soon joins the both of you in what now becomes a sweaty hug. “Ok, enough.”

You all part, similar smiles etched upon your faces.

“This is all so melodramatic I kinda wanna throw up but also cry,” You laugh out, not used to having such emotional conversations. You don’t usually let your emotions come out this way, not in front of people at least. 

But those aren’t just people, they’re your people.

-

-

On Sunday, you spend the day crying over a diverse array of romantic movies, one after the other until your eyes are so puffy and your head is pounding so much that you have to stop and take a nap.

The nap becomes night and you wake up on Monday morning, oddly refreshed. 

Because you’ve cried so much you don’t think you can give more. And maybe that’s what you needed, to finally take a step in the right direction and confront your feelings.

What was it, exactly, that had made you pull away from Yoongi? It’s not the stupid assumptions you had made when you heard his conversation with Namjoon. It’s almost like somehow, in the back of your mind you had always known Yoongi would never talk about you that way. 

Which means that you do trust him, even if not fully yet. Trust is gained slowly, and you think Yoongi would show you everyday that he is trustworthy, if you'd let him.

If you’re being honest, the realization doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest. Because there's still something that’s been bugging you, keeping you from accepting him in your life.

And yeah, you definitely do not feel like you deserve him. But you could work with that. That’s not it. 

What is it then? 

You can’t pinpoint it and it makes you furious, that your own brain would sabotage you this way. What a fucking traitor. 

After a full morning of pacing around, paying bills and pacing around again, you decide that enough is enough. You need to talk to Yoongi, and now. He may be avoiding you, but you still know where he lives. 

You don’t really want to intrude on his personal time, but he’s really given you no other option. Because no, texting him is really not an option. It leaves too much room for interpretation and feels so impersonal you might as well talk to a wall and it would feel the same. 

So you put your hair in a messy bun, get dressed and march anxiously towards your car, not even bothering to put makeup on. He’s seen you without it a bunch of times anyway.

The drive to Yoongi’s place is nerve wracking to say the least. You drive slowly, too slowly. And when you park in front of the complex, you feel like you got here too fast.

“You can do this,” You murmur confidently to the reflection in the mirror, almost laughing in disbelief as you do so. Because this is pathetic, you’re a pathetic mess. And somehow, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

You lock your doors and head into the building, waiting for what seems like hours in front of the wooden door before you gather all the courage you can and knock fervently.

There’s nothing at first. No sound, no shuffling, the television is seemingly off, the only thing responding is a loud silence. It scares you to be quite honest. What if something had happened to him, and he’s been laying on the floor for days now?

You knock a lot louder, with newfound confidence. 

That’s when you hear the sound of a cat meowing shrilly, followed by heavy footsteps. Your heart races and you try to brace yourself for what’s coming.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, so please go.”

You almost snort out loud before the reality of the situation settles back in and you grow a lot more serious.

“Yoongi?” 

There’s only silence for a while and you almost think he’ll leave you there, in front of his apartment, sad and alone. But then the door opens and you freeze in place. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks in a croaky voice, coughing a little as he finishes his sentence. 

“You.. you’re actually sick.” 

Yoongi eyes you in disbelief. “Uh, yeah?”

“I— I thought you were avoiding me.”

Damn, you’re so stupid it’s not even embarrassing anymore, just very laughable. You’re a whole ass joke. You act like the whole world revolves around you, so much so that it hasn't crossed your mind that he may actually be sick, for real.

And he looks like he’s been suffering for days now. His hair is messy and his nose is so red he could give rudolf a run for his money. That’s without mentioning the dark circles under his eyes.

Even so, he still manages to look absolutely dashing. It’s really not fair.

“I’m not, I’ve just been barely able to get out of bed all week.” 

“Oh..” You start, very shy all of a sudden. “Can I come in?” 

Yoongi looks very confused but nods nonetheless. You dash past the door, only turning around when you hear the door shutting behind you. 

“Woah.. your place is a mess.” You mutter as you take in the apartment. It really could use a little cleaning. Maybe you could do that, yeah. That’s a good idea. You take your coat off and wash your hands.

Meanwhile, Yoongi stares at you in absolute confusion. “Well.. yeah.” He coughs in between words. “I haven’t been able to clean it up, really. I’ve just started feeling a little better.”

“That’s understandable. I can help, I have nothing to do today.” 

Cat settles at your feet, swishing its tail from left to right as the creature eyes you curiously. You bend down to pet it. 

“Hi you, I’ve missed you.” You coo.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking.. what’s going on here?” 

You tense at his words, suddenly you don’t really know why you’ve come all the way here. 

“I mean, Sam said you were sick and I thought you didn’t um—“ You scratch your head, “..anyway, I wanted to come talk to you.”

“What about?”

You stay in a crouched position, gaze fixed on the floor tile of the small kitchen. “..I don’t know.” 

Yoongi’s feet enter your field of view and you shrink a little into yourself, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“If I remember correctly, you ended things a few days ago.. It’s not helping me get over it, you showing up here out of the blue.”

You nibble at your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “I know I’m sorry.. I’ll go soon, right after I clean this place up a bit.”

You stand up again and avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the task at hand. First off, you need to put all of the dirty clothes in a laundry basket. You remember Yoongi has one in his bedroom and you head there.

When you come back into the living room, you start restlessly throwing items in the hamper basket, under Yoongi’s scrutiny.

“Love..” 

The pet name tears a small, pained whimper out of you. You sniffle, only to realize you’d been crying. 

“Shit..” 

Your movements soon become erratic as the mess in your mind grows exponentially, your breathing now shallow and ragged. 

“Stop this,” Yoongi gently grabs your fumbling hands. 

And you really don’t deserve his kindness. So you try to free yourself from his hold, to no avail. Which is exactly when you snap your gaze up to peer at him. 

He looks concerned, even sad. 

You smile through the tears now cascading freely over your cheeks. “It’s fine, I can help!”

“No, no. Stop, sit down, yeah? Let’s talk.” He tries to suppress a cough but you still notice it.

“No, you need to be resting, not talking.” You chortle humorlessly. “Got to bed, I’ll clean this place up.”

He groans and grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “No one’s cleaning today, we’re talking, ok?”

“I don’t..” You start, unable to finish.

What don’t you, exactly? You don’t know what to say, what you want, what you’re doing here.

“What do you expect from me love? Because I want to know what’s going through that pretty head of yours but you won’t let me in.”

“Nothing.. you already give me more than I deserve.” You whisper, feeble. 

“What, because you’re scared you think you’re not enough for me or something?” He starts, an annoyed lilt to his tone. “I’m not perfect either, love. And I’m not saying you are. But this has gotta stop, this— this self flagellation. You deserve more and so do I.”

“I don’t know why I’m so scared..” You sob loudly, feeling very exposed all of a sudden. 

“There may be a hundred reasons why you’re scared. And that’s ok, I am too. It means we’ve got something good, worth keeping.” He draws a bit closer. 

“And I want to make this work, I really do. But you gotta work with me, love. You gotta stop running away from me..” Yoongi’s voice breaks and you notice that his eyes are glistening with unshed tears, tawing at your heartstrings like nothing else could. 

“I don’t want to run away, I want you..”

“Then consciously stop yourself from doing so when the need arises, and talk to me instead. Fuck, I’m just asking for you to tell me when things are bothering you. That’s all I want.”

“How do I do that?” You cling onto his wrists, afraid that if you let go he’ll disappear.

“You push past your doubts and just do, love.” He inhales slowly. “Like I’m doing right now.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes wide open.

“You’re scared right now?”

“I’m fucking terrified.”

“Of what?”

Yoongi traps his bottom lip in between his teeth, looking to the side as he does so. “I’m scared you’ll run away again..”

It’s heartbreaking, how much hurt you’ve caused him. You don’t even know how to begin to gain his trust again. Funny how that works. 

“I’m sorry..” The tears now fall steadily from your damp eyes. 

And you had thought you were done crying. 

“I know. I’m also sorry.”

You want to ask him what he’s sorry about, but you don’t. He must have a reason to feel like he needs to, and if it helps him feel better, then you won’t question it.

Yoongi shakily cups one of your cheeks and you automatically lean into the touch. “What’s gonna happen now?” 

“That’s up to you, ball’s in your court. You know where I stand.” He hoarsely states.

You nod, knowing full well you now have a decision to make. And you better think about it well, because this is it. 

There’s no going back after this.

-

-

After your frankly embarrassing, albeit eye-opening, outburst at Yoongi’s, you spend a lot of time trying to figure out if you think you can do this, hand your heart to someone else at the risk of getting it back broken and bruised. 

Though if you’re being honest it already feels like it, and there’s no one else to blame but your pathetic self. 

When Friday rolls around again, you still haven’t made a decision and it’s agonizing how long it’s taking you to sort through your feelings. But it is what it is and being the overthinker that you are, you can’t really help it. 

You put on a tight black skirt, paired with a black flowy blouse and tie your hair into a messy bun, opting for light makeup for the night. You drive to the bar, anxiety filling every inch of your body, and stop to talk with Namjoon for a minute or two. You have a few moments left before your seven p.m. shift and you might as well spend them talking with your friend instead of staring longingly at Min Yoongi.

“Joon!” You exclaim as you saunter towards the entrance.

Namjoon brings you into a tight hug before speaking, “How are you?”

“I’m uh, okay.” You timidly offer.

The doorman nods and opens the door for you. “You know you can always text me if you ever want to, right?”

“I know, thank you.” You say sincerely, soon making your way upstairs.

It’s quite busy, which gives you the perfect excuse not to talk to Yoongi much. Though you sneak so many glances his way he must probably have noticed. And the thought sends heat straight to your ears, but you really can’t control the urge to just stare.

Yoongi looks particularly good tonight, white dress shirt with the sleeves hiked up to his elbows, shiny strands of black hair obstructing his vision from time to time, black trousers and a perpetually handsome face. 

You can see, as usual, a bunch of men and women equally smitten with the barman, chatting flirtily with him and what not. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t irk you. Because he’s not yours and he could very well decide to take up somebody’s offer, after all. And you couldn’t even blame him.

So it comes as a surprise to you, when you come back from the lounge and overhear a conversation between him and a girl that you have been serving all night. 

“..it mustn't be easy, if I had to guess.”

Yoongi shrugs. “It’s really not that bad.”

The girl giggles into the palm of her hand. “Are you doing anything after work?” 

“Uh, well, I’m going to sleep like a log. It’s been a long night.”

You really can’t help the fact that your blood sizzles in your veins, ready to reach boiling point. But you can’t do anything. You don’t blame her at all, and if he wants to go home with her he has every right to. So you sulk silently and listen carefully still, being the masochist that you are and all. 

“I totally get that. Then maybe you’d want to go somewhere sometimes? Grab a drink or something.” She boldly asks. 

“Look um, you look very cool and you’re admittedly very pretty but, I’m kinda seeing someone? So yeah, I’ll have to decline. But thanks.”

Oh.

Is he talking about you? You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that his statement didn’t release a shit load of butterflies in your stomach, flapping around animatedly.

The girl looks taken aback but smiles through it all still. “No problem, I had to shoot my shot, right?”

“Absolutely.” Yoongi chortles.  

And so you go back to your occupations, feeling a little lighter than before.

When the night is done and you all head out into the cold winter air to go to Jimin’s place, you notice Yoongi hanging back as if unsure.

“You coming hyung?” Jimin asks, slurring his words a bit.

The barman scratches his head and sends you an apologetic look, which immediately prompts your heart to drop to the bottom of your stomach. “I think I’ll go back home this time, but you guys have fun yeah?”

“Suit yourself, grandpa.” Jimin sticks his tongue out.

You all wave him goodbye and pile into Namjoon’s car, Jungkook sitting in the passenger's seat, as usual, and you and Jimin next to each other. He bends down to whisper against your ear,

“Don’t take it personally, alright?”

Thing is, you really want to believe Jimin and convince yourself it's not personal. But you know damn well it is, and the way your stomach twists is enough proof of that.

-

-

As soon as you open the door to Jimin’s apartment you notice a bright red head of hair peeking through the slightly ajar bedroom door. “Hey, you guys are finally here!”

You send Jimin a questioning look but he simply waves you off and makes his way towards a very cozy looking Hoseok, leaving a loud smooch on the latter’s cheek as soon as he reaches him. “Hey babe.”

Jungkook whispers next to your ear, “Since the fuck when..?” 

“I have no idea..” You murmur back.

Jimin looks back at the three of you, a bored expression etched upon his face. “You guys coming in or..?”

The three of you break into a chorus of ‘yes’s and ‘sorry’s before taking off your winter garment and cracking open a cold beer. 

And it’s all very fun and lighthearted, the same type of banter as usual. Everyone looks happy. 

Everyone except you. Because as much as you want to appreciate this, there’s something missing. An integral part of the group that makes it impossible for you to stay present and participate as much as you’d like.  

A part of your heart is missing.

Which is why you suddenly get up and grab your things, ordering a cab from your cellphone as you do so. Your friends look at you in stunned silence. That is until Jimin speaks,

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“Making things right,” You resolutely say as you put your boots back on, not even bothering to zip them up.

Your friends send you a knowing look.

“Text us if you need something,” Namjoon gently says.

As soon as you have your coat on you wave them off and head downstairs to wait for your cab. The night is freezing and the snow falls steadily in thick crystals, decorating the city streets and roofs in blankets of white. You’re not really one to stare in wonder at the snow if you have to be honest. But there’s something quite magical about it tonight. 

It thankfully doesn’t take long for the car to arrive and so you jump in, a little nervous but also finally at peace with yourself. You’ve known all along that this is what you want, truly want. 

You just needed to see for yourself, just how incomplete the pieces of your heart felt without him.

-

-

The silence around you is unnerving, to say the least.

There’s a faint static sound somewhere, as if an old untuned amplifier was left on. Then there’s the sound of your thoughts, so loud in their utmost quietness. They scare you, to be quite frank.

You stand in front of Yoongi’s door for what feels like hours, though it’s probably more like three minutes or so. You almost gather enough courage to knock when the door suddenly opens completely, revealing a distraught looking Yoongi.

“Hey..?” You dip your toe into the troubled waters first. “Is this a wrong time?” 

He blinks a few times, fluttering his thick eyelashes as he does, “Uh, no. I was just— I was going to Jimin’s.”

“Oh,” You manage to say through the confusion clouding your mind. “I’m sorry, I can come back another time..” 

“No!” Yoongi hastily replies, tucking a wild strand of hair behind his ear. “I was coming to see you.. I shouldn’t have left earlier. I just— I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there.” 

You stare at him, heart squeezing painfully in your chest at the honest answer. How much more could you make this man endure?

“Do you.. wanna come in?” He asks, an earnest lilt to his tone. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

You follow after the barman and take your boots off, soon followed by your winter garments. 

As soon as you’ve gotten rid of your many layers you notice a black ball of fluff watching you curiously from under the couch. “Come here baby!”

The cat swiftly erupts from the darkness and all but crashes into you, rubbing its head against your thigh.

“What a good cat,” You coo at the animal, leaving soft pecks on top of its head. 

“I can leave you both alone if you want,” Yoongi teases.

You blush and clear your throat before standing up awkwardly. “Sorry..”

Yoongi stops laughing and gives you a fond look,

“I was only joking, love.”

Your lips part to form an ‘o’ shape and you honestly didn’t think this situation could be more embarrassing. And yet.

The clock ticking in the background is a great reminder of the reason why you’ve come here at this godforsaken hour.  

It’s also a painfully embarrassing pointer as to why you’ve been trying to delay this conversation: maybe Yoongi’s changed his mind, maybe he’s done. You wouldn’t blame him.

But you still need to tell him exactly, once and for all, what’s going through your mind. You need it, whatever the outcome may be.

“I’ve come to—“

“What did you come-“

The both of you speak at the same time, prompting a nervous fit of laughter out of you.

“You speak first,” Yoongi chuckles before sitting at the kitchen counter, eyes firmly trained on you. 

You nod and inhale sharply, it’s now or never. 

“I’ve been wracking my brain all week now, trying to understand why I act the way I do with you.. and trust me, I hate introspection, she’s a bitch.” You joke to try and lighten up the mood. 

It seems to be working, if the small affectionate smile gracing Yoongi’s lips is of any indication. 

“Truth is, I’m scared shitless, Yoongi. I’m scared to break you, break me. I’m scared we’ll get tired of each other at some point and hurt each other more than necessary. But mostly I’m terribly selfish and I’m really, really fucking terrified that you’ll find me too much, at some point, and you’ll leave.”

The way your voice suddenly becomes thick and breaks really can’t be hidden, not even if you tried. So you don’t, it’s the moment of truth after all. Might as well get it all out, the ugly and the bad, the sweet and the desperate. All that you’ve been secretly keeping inside, hiding from him and from yourself.��

“And that may be fucking selfish of me to say, but I don’t want you to leave, Yoongi. I’ve been keeping all of these fucking feelings in for so long I don’t know how to externalize them properly so, sorry if I mess this up. But what if, down the line, I say something that I shouldn’t and it hurts you? What if I start taking you for granted and treat you less than you deserve? What if—“

“Angel.” Yoongi firmly interrupts, standing up from his seat and stepping closer in the process.

He comes up to you, cupping both sides of your face to caress your cheeks. And that’s exactly when you realize you’ve started crying.

“It’s ok—“

You shake your head vigorously, sending a few tears flying sideways in the process. “No, please, let me finish this, ok? I need to get it out.” 

The barman nods, staring straight into your soul. You take it as a silent sign to go on.

“Bottom line is, I’m scared as fuck. And I’m so sorry that I took it out on you. I don’t want that to ever happen again, not if I can help it.” You exhale slowly, “But I really, really like you. Actually I more than like you. I’m just not ready to say it out loud, so please bear with me..”

The emotions swirling around Yoongi’s eyes are so all encompassing and beautiful you can barely refrain from kissing him dumb right this instant. But there’s more pressing matters. 

“So I’m asking you now, do you think you’d be ok with me being a little emotionally stunted and having a little trouble externalizing my feelings, even though I’ll try my damn hardest to communicate properly? None of the bullshit I’ve done since we’ve known each other. That wasn’t me trying.” 

You lean into his touch and intently look straight into his eyes as you speak again,

“Because if you think you can, then I think I can sure as hell try to be the woman you deserve, Yoongi.”

The latter gently lays his forehead against yours, his breath now tickling your nose and sending a few strands of hair flying away from your eyes. You both close your eyes, concentrating on your other senses instead.

“If you can do that, then I certainly can try and be the man you deserve, my love.”

You break out in goosebumps, erupting like a thousand fireworks all around you. But not the big, explosive ones. No, more like the ones people often miss because they’re looking at the flashy ones higher up.

They always end up being the prettiest ones, the ones you remember when you come back home.

Kinda like the love Yoongi shows you, it’s not grandiose and flashy. It’s warm and sprinkles down over the both of you like a million confetti’s, melting on your skin and enveloping you in its calming aroma, like the sweetest of flowers.

Or like the damp smell of a forest after a rainy day: comforting and grounding. 

“It’s ok if you can’t say it now, I don’t mind. But can I..?” He whispers tenderly, a few inches away from your burning skin.

You nod in approval, a small smile tugging your lips upward. 

The rough but gentle fingers caressing your skin send shivers down your spine as you wait for Yoongi to speak again, warmth spreading in your chest akin to the glow of a fireplace. 

“I love you.”

And just as quickly as he’s said it, sending the butterflies in your stomach completely haywire, he molds your lips together, an euphoric feeling you’d thought would become nothing but a distant memory.

But it’s not. And he’s there, holding you so carefully as he kisses you unhurriedly, as if savoring each and every second of it. And you press back against him in the same fashion, your wandering hands caressing his covered stomach, shoulders and biceps with featherlight touches.

You didn’t even notice when the pieces of your puzzle slotted back together again. But they're glued together now, unmoving. 

The future is always uncertain, things change and so do people. But that doesn’t mean emotions and beautiful things aren’t worth living, quite the contrary. 

You barely register when your blouse is being unbuttoned, soon discarded on the kitchen floor. Or when Yoongi leads you backwards to his bedroom, with careful steps, guiding you blindly but surely. 

It’s not hungry and fiery this time, when you get rid of the items of clothing keeping you from fully admiring the beauty in front of both your eyes.

It’s slow and sensual, almost an out of body feeling. 

You stare into each others’ eyes stubbornly, unwilling to concentrate on anything but the emotions manifesting on each of your faces as Yoongi smoothly burrows himself into the warm heat of your folds. His movements are so gentle you barely feel anything but pleasure and love, flooding through you in soothing waves.

So much love it’s sickening, and you want more. 

You want all of it, greedy as you are.

He holds you tightly through it all, a kind reassurance that he’s there, present even though the overwhelming sensations tugs at every fiber of his body. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, letting go of any inhibitions, insecurities and letting someone else handle them instead. 

And he holds them securely as he thrusts in and out of you repeatedly, hands ghosting over the skin of your hips, thighs and cupping both of your breasts gingerly, squeezing them here and there before bending down and licking at your sensitive nubs with almost religious fervor. Like a man worshiping at the sacred altar of your body. 

You’d worship at his any day.

It’s also surprisingly unhurried when you start feeling the edges of your orgasms taking over both of your visions, overwhelming you in the best of ways possible. But you both still keep it at bay as long as possible, almost instinctively. 

He follows you closely in the abyss when you tip over the edge. You tingle all over, tremors coursing through you in an unbridled fashion while your eyes roll to the back of your head in what can only be called complete rapture. 

Yoongi soon busies himself with cleaning you up, the both of you giggling like school girls as you tickle and tease each other endlessly.

Then, you stop giggling and start kissing again, sloppily and lazily, while you hold each other, burrowed deep under the warm covers of Yoongi’s bed.

Like a dam burst open, you can’t really get enough of each other now that everything is out there in the open. 

It’s only when your lips are reddened and puffy that you part, in order to give them a well deserved break. But it doesn’t stop you from pouting petulantly, which prompts Yoongi to laugh uncontrollably at your clinginess.

You can’t help but laugh fondly too, the gummy smile stretching his mouth rendering you a fuzzy mess. 

“You know what I’ve just realized?” You murmur against the soft skin of Yoongi’s arm, which is currently tightly wrapped around you.

“Mmhm?”

“This is the first time we have sex in a bed.” 

“Is it? What about that time at your place?” He sleepily inquires, a hoarse quality to his tone.

“But we didn’t have sex that time, so this is the first time.” 

Yoongi shuffles closer to you, nuzzling at your shoulder in an absolutely endearing manner. 

“Damn, that’s actually funny as fuck.” He chuckles.

You tenderly kiss the smooth flesh of his arm, 

“We’re weird.”

The soft press of lips upon your naked shoulder prompts a small shiver out of you. 

“We are. And I wouldn’t want us to be any other way, my love.”

And that’s exactly how you know with absolute certainty, as you slowly slip into unconsciousness in the arms of the man you love, that you’ll make it through whatever ordeal is to be thrown your way.

Because you just fit perfectly together, understand each other like no one else can. 

Two pieces of a puzzle. 

-

-

a/n: thank you guys so much for all the comments and love that you have shown this story and these characters, it had made me happy in the best of ways! I'm so glad you loved these characters as much as I loved writing them. See you for the epilogue! <3

amala

taglist: @knapris @tarahardcore @tea4sykes @bonitaangel @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @princesspiineapple @funkylittlebisexuall @kikaninchen-2 @diorjgguk @purplelo @lil6nmrll @perfect-bae @bxcndd @funsizemarsbar92 @kookoo-kachoo @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @glowunderthemoon @idkjustlovingbts @minijagiyaa @bwormie @fragmentof-indifference @purpleunicorn051 @forevercarpediem227 @acquiescence804 @che-er-ful

[tohokuu]

rant -

@nkogneatho

some guy used me to cheat on his girlfriend, except he told me they weren’t together and that he was single.

we sent each other nudes (which was an obvious mistake)

i still felt a little bit guilty abt it so i told my friend. my friend is friends with the girlfriend. i’ve never met the girlfriend tho- like we’ve never talked or anything

my friend told me that i should go and be honest and tell her what happened bc him and his girl never broke up… they were together the whole time …

see i haven’t talked to this guy either in like a few months and we don’t have social media or see each other so idk what’s going on w his life yk

i told his girlfriend everything and she didn’t believe me … she told me she knows him and that she doesn’t know me at all and that she would never believe me over his word. i barely had proof bc we never saved the conversation and he unadded me just a day later … i didn’t care tm and i unadded him as well and the chat got deleted so i can’t even pull anything up

she refused to believe me. called me a liar and a weirdo and she said that she’s heard rumors about me and how “i enjoy ruining people’s relationships for fun” and i was so shocked. this isn’t highschool LMFAO. why are we doing this…

she was so so fucking rude to me, guys. she said “you’re giving up because no one believes your lies and how you tried to ruin a relationship” and also said “enjoy being friendly with guys and trying to fill up the empty ass hole in you” “fix yourself” … i just took a lot of disrespect and i gave up trying to explain. i told her “here’s what happened. take it or leave it”

i provided her everything that she asked for except i had no texts between the guy and me

like i’m genuinely so blown.

if a girl told me this, i’d leave my man so quick.

he literally has a chokehold on her and refuses to believe what anyone else says. thing is- he has his friend helping him and i have a friend tryna help me too but she’s not believe us no matter what

the friend also told me who it was that was spreading the rumor about me being a homewrecker and it’s someone i’ve known for 14 years … that’s so :/

this is my bestfriend. i see her in class every day.

idk if it’s her and i’m not gonna jump to conclusions too fast but i genuinely hope this isn’t her bc if it is, idek what to do anymore

-

then another one of my friends got mad at me bc i said i didn’t want to pick up 6 ppl from their houses and waste gas… she got so mad and disrespected me so badly and i still said sorry so many fucking times.

then after, i texted her today and told her i didn’t like the VERY passive aggressive way she spoke to me and instead she wrote paragraphs basically just gaslighting me and i’m like… ☠️

like it isn’t working, you’re not gaslighting me. you look stupid rn trying

that sucked as well and then i blocked her ass bc no

-

the third thing is that i had a fallout with a friend and i ended up talking a lot of shit about the things they did that bothered me and stuff but we ended up becoming friends again and yk… she’s honestly so sweet and so caring and i felt horrible for what i did. i texted her today and told her everything and held up responsibility for it but she hasn’t answered. i think she looks her phone