#insys ex

[mrsunshineboy]

"feeels like wwe have mattchintg wounds, but miune still black and bruises and yours is perfectlyy finee" /lyr jusst reeminding me of me hearing brykee talk about how shee hadd her mems of damien 'taken' awaay sso she didnt havee brerakdowns but i have aaat least four off themm a day bc of justtt freomm seeing his namee to thinkiong of hi,m

[kill-your-mind]

Cant believe our SINGLET ex tried forcing us to not have in-sys relationships unless all parties were dating him. INCLUDING!!! When we were already dating for nearly a year beforehand.

So uh. PSA in-sys relationships aren’t yours to control. Alters are close to one another for a reason. 🖕

[thetriumphantpanda]

masterpiece | marcus pike

Summary | Even surrounded by works of art, you're his favourite masterpiece.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Warnings | A fair amount of art metaphors, Marcus being a smooth motherfucker but a smitten one, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV, creampie, public sex (don't ask me why I write this man fucking in public so much), alcohol consumption, two Taylor Swift song lyric references if you look hard enough, no use of y/n. Reader is a blank slate physically but is described wearing a dress and is wearing red lipstick.

Word Count | 1.5k

Authors Note | Don't look at me. I saw this post. Immediately thought of Marcus and wrote this in less than 24 hours. As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena who continually inspires me to be creative and to write what I love. If you liked this, please consider reblogging or commenting, it is my life blood. This might be my favourite thing I have ever written, so enjoy.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The Mona Lisa. The Girl With The Pearl Earring. The Birth Of Venus. All of them masterpieces, but none of them could hold a candle to you this evening in his eyes.

Stood in the dimly lit room, draped in a dress of burgundy silk, the low-cut back showing off your spine, teasing what sat lower, the curve of your ass that he gets to cradle in his hands each evening, the glass of champagne held in your delicate fingers, fingers he knows so intimately these days, how they feel wrapped around that specific part of him. The light glints on the stones of your earrings, dropping delicately from your ears, swinging lightly, touching the skin of your neck that is traced by his mouth each night. And when you turn to him, meet his eyes across the room, and smile at him, he wishes he could paint you, immortalise you on canvas, hang you on a wall, display you, so that the rest of the world, for the rest of history, could understand just how priceless you were to him.

He doesn’t even really know why he’s here, much like he thinks when he does anything that doesn’t involved shutting the two of you away in his home or yours and forgetting anything else exists outside of those four walls. Letting you wrap yourself around him, tangled in sheets, with whispered sighs, his hands on your hips and thighs, caught up in nothing but each other and the way he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way for anyone before, not his ex-wife, not his failed engagement, none of them. None of them made his heart skip like you do, none of them could set his skin on fire with the trace of their fingernails across his skin like you could, none of them would make him feel as good as you would. In the dead of night, your head pillowed on his shoulder, breath fanning across his skin, he realises he’s never loved until you.

When you turn, abandoning the conversation you’re having with God knows who, start walking towards him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea, your eyes focused on him and him alone, he finds that his breath catches in his throat, still not quite believing he is the apple of your eye, the man you search for in a crowd.

“You’re staring.”

“Your fault for looking like that.”

His hand snakes across silk and then the bare skin of your back, dipping to kiss the corner of your mouth so as to not smudge the clean line of red that your mouth is painted.

“See anything you want to buy?”

He smirks, “There’s only one piece of art here that I want, and it’s not for sale.”

You press up onto your tiptoes, mouth by his ear, “Would you hang me on your wall, Pike?”

Looking down at you, those doe eyes, long eyelashes fluttering at him, knowing exactly what you do to him, he bites his lip, “Maybe not hang baby,” He all but growls at you, “But pin you against it? Always.”

And then it all happens in a flurry. Hand around wrist, heels clicking against the floor as he pulls you from the crowd, out of one room, down a hallway and into the first room which door will open. It’s dark inside, save for the floor lights that illuminate the paintings. Normally, when you let him walk you around this particular gallery, all you’re focused on is the way his face lights when he talks, when he’s allowed, for once, to be unapologetically nerdy about something, but tonight, he’s not looking at the art, he’s looking at you.

Like predator after prey, he takes one step forward, as you take one back, slowly but surely backing you up under his gaze until your bare back hits a wall, cornered between two paintings, his palms on either side of your head, mouth dipping to yours, finding a finger pressed against his lips, one of your eyebrows raised, with a point to your own lips and that fucking lipstick that he knows he’ll smudge later if he’s got anything to say about it.

So instead, lips attach to neck, pressing, nipping, sucking sometimes as those fingers of his work the silk up from your ankles, up as high as he can be bothered to pull it before his hand is sinking underneath it, finding you bare.

“Filthy little minx.”

“Have you seen this dress?” You counter, “You would have seen the lines.”

He cuts you off, parting you with his fingers, sinking them lower, finding you slick to the touch, fingers sinking inside, pulling a gasp from you as your delicate hands circle his wrist, not as a warning, but as an encouragement, keeping him there, keeping his fingers inside you as they curl, search out that spot within you that makes you sing. And he finds it, because of course he does, watches as your knees buckle a little, held up only by his other hand on your waist, anchoring you right where he wants you as those fingers drag up, circling that bud of nerves so perfectly, your head tipped back against the wall.

“Go on, baby,” He encourages, fingers fast and precise against you, knowing exactly how to tear you apart, “Let go for me.”

So you do, legs shaking, his name like a chant on your lips, you come, hips chasing his hand as his movements slow, working you through it but not to the point of overstimulation. He looks you dead in the eye as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks the taste of you from his skin, leaning back into your mouth, an expectant look in your eyes that you’ve already told him about this.

“Tongue.”

It’s demanding, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing, so you stick it out, do as you’re told, hoping to earn the golden star from him, those two words that make you weaker than anything.

He leans in, traces his tongue against yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth before giving you that reward.

“Good girl.”

Then his hands are snaking down, gripping your ass through the silk, lifting you gently to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands fumble with his trousers, moving them only enough to free his cock, your hands shifting your dress again, pulling it up to pool at your waist as the length of his slips trough your slick folds, before he’s buried inside you to the hilt in one movement.

There’s a moment of pause, where you look at each other, where you get used to the feel of him inside you, stretching you so perfectly like he always does, him getting used to the warmth of you, the way those walls of yours flutter around him. Then he’s moving, knowing this isn’t the place for him to take his time, hips rocking into yours, slamming your back into the wall as your arms lace around his shoulders, helping him to keep you held up, hands against your ass squeezing where he can.

“Careful of the paintings, agent.” You tease.

“You’re the only masterpiece I care about,” He breathes back, “Pinned to the wall like you should be.”

It’s quick and it’s sloppy, but its no less incredible as it is when he lays you down, pulls you apart with his mouth, then his fingers, then both, and then finally sinks into you, with your legs pressed back to your chest. Here, it’s different, the way his cock punches so deep inside you it takes your breath away, the way you claw at his shoulders, rock into him on his thrusts so you take him deeper. The way you’re surrounded by magnificence but only look at him, warmth in your eyes, nothing but love as he stutters with his movements a little.

“Gonna fill me up?” You ask, voice sickly sweet, “Leave yourself dripping down my thighs when we go back?”

Fuck, you’re filth personified when you talk like that, when you let him mark you, fuck you full of him and walk around with him dripping down your skin, no-one else any the wiser.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls into the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe, marginally missing the silver of your earrings.

“Please.”

It’s the first break in your facade, the way you beg like that and he knows its all over, always is when you beg for him, beg for him to fill you up. He doesn’t last much longer, hips pushing into yours a handful of times before you can feel the warmth spreading inside of you, a breathe of your name against the skin of your neck as he fills you, fucks you to the point that you’re already dripping him before he pulls himself from you, letting your dress drape back down your legs, feet planted on the floor, as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

Your palms smooth down your dress and as he twines his fingers with yours, leads you back into the main gallery, thighs coated in him, no-one would be any the wiser that he has indeed painted you as his own masterpiece right under their noses.

[rubyreduji]

*squints* dilf deekay how dare u I trusted u 😭

dilf seokmin who is the single dad of the cutest little five year old girl in the kindergarten class you teach, she's got the same smile as him and everything

dilf seokmin who tries to help out in the class as much as he can and even though you don't always need the help, you don't dare turn him away, too fond of him to say no

who can blame you? he's funny, kind, helpful, and very handsome, he's the "it" parent that all of the teacher rave about, jealous that you have his daughter in your class and not theirs

being a good dad is just the cherry on top, and a good dad he is, always doting on his daughter and finding any way to support her, like volunteering to help out during field day

and your knees nearly buckle on the spot when you catch sight of him standing out on the field, in his nicely fitted white t-shirt that perfectly displays his arms

and god his arms, his nicely formed biceps and his veiny arms and his long, thick fingers that you desperate want insi- you shake your head, no you cannot be having those thoughts about the father of one of your students, especially while you are working

so you do your best to be on your best behavior, but you're only human and you can't help but glance in his direction every so often, the sight alway making your head spin and your panties grow damper and damper

there's just something primal in you that finds him so sexy as he helps all of the kids out, hi-fiving them when they win and patting them on the back when they lose, you have to keep chugging down water to combat the heat growing up your spin and across your chest

then, his shirt gets wet, his daughter accidently spilling the water while he's carrying her in his arms, and you do your best not to stare at the way the shirt clings to his torso, his defined abs and chest visible under the now translucent fabric

"oh no! here i think i have some spare shirts in my room," you tell him, ushering him back into the school, the halls are empty as you two walk to your classroom, everyone outside participating in the field day

when you get to your classroom you dig through your cupboards, looking for a spare t-shirt, when you find one and turn to hand it to seokmin, you're shocked to see his wet shirt already off his body, his damp chest glistening slightly

you can't stop yourself from gasping a bit, your mouth dropping as your eyes widen, taking in all of his bare skin and all of the muscle under it

seokmin just chuckles as he takes the shirt "thank you so much, especially for all of the work you do, you're an amazing teacher"

"oh uh, thank you" you can feel the heat start to over take your face again

"you know...my ex-wife has never been this good with soomi, but you're a natural," seokmin starts and you can't help but feel flustered at his praise, praise that he obviously is not showering on his ex-wife "not to mention that she absolutely adores you, and she's not the only one"

"h-huh?"

"I adore you too, but i think my feelings go a little deeper than admiration, and i think your feelings for me go a bit deeper than that too"

seokmin has slowly been walking towards you and you're stuck in place, barely able to even breathe, the shirt is still in his hands and you force yourself to look at his eyes rather than his torso

"tell me im not making a fool of myself right now"

"you're not"

that's all seokmin needs to lean in and bring his lips to yours, right off the bat the kiss is fierce as seokmin pulls you into him, desperately licking into your mouth, trying to burn the taste of you intp his mind

seokmin pushes you back until your body hits the wall and you feel his knee slide inbetween your thighs, applying pressure right against your aching core, you moan right into his mouth, your fingers digging into his back

you can feel seokmin's fingers grasp your waist tightly as he helps guide your hips to grind down against him, the fabric of your panties dragging against your senstitive clit

soft moans escape from the back of your throat, into seokmin's mouth and you feel him grin into your kiss "you sound so pretty baby girl"

the pet name makes your pussy clench and your hips speed up, desperate to get off, pleasure coursing through your body as seokmin continues to ravish your lips, his fingers trail up your sides before landing at your chest, his long fingers groping at your tits like a eager teenage boy

your panties are ruined by now, sticking to your needy cunt as you cotninue to work your hips against his leg, growing more and more impatient to reach your high

just as you're about to orgasm, seokmin pulls away and you can't do anything but whine, even more disappointment filling you as seokmin tugs on the borrowed shirt

"they're going to start wondering what's taking so long, better get back out there before they send someone looking, right?" seokmin winks at you and you kind of want to cry from how pent up you now are "but i promise i'll make it back up to you baby, this weekend okay?"

seokmin then turns to leave the classroom and you take a moment to recuperate yourself before following after him, thinking about how friday cannot get here fast enough

[you didn't ask for this but i have delivered anyways, have a great night elv 😇]

[sunfleursgarden]

us against the world - lee juyeon

inspired by taylor swift’s champagne problems.

pairings: ex! juyeon x fem! reader

genre: angst! fluff (if you squint)

synopsis: After running away from his proposal, all Juyeon could ever think about was where it all went wrong. Showing up to your house with a heavy heart is something you weren’t ready for, but Juyeon is certain that he wants you in his life, you were simply hesitant.

warnings: angst! mentions of alcohol and blood, slight fluff (if you squint), few curse words are mentioned, somewhat forbidden love, juyeon calls you baby twice

word count: 2.7k words

note: OH MY GOD! this is my first ever publish on tumblr. i’ve been pondering a lot on whether to give this story a happy or sad ending, but hey, we’ll see... and by the way!! this is inspired by taylor swift’s champagne problems!! have fun reading !! (proofread once)

“Will you marry me?”

Splashing that tightly corked bottle of champagne, the high-spirited crowd gleamed in triumph, smiles plastered on their faces as they cheered the two of you on. His not-so-receptive relatives anticipated every minute whilst you were hesitant. You were unfathomable.

“I love you, Y/n. I’d like to spend the rest of my life loving and taking care of you.”

“Juyeon... What are you doing?” You mumbled. He was still down on one knee as he held a small velvet jewelry box. Juyeon gave you a sweet smile—a smile you know you didn't deserve.

“I'm sorry.” those were the last words you said. Juyeon’s eyebrows furrowed, confused about why you suddenly acted that way. You felt everyone’s gaze, your chest felt heavy. Staring at Juyeon, you gave him an apologetic look. He still couldn't process what was going on.

You had this forethought to run. The moment you ran, no one dared to move an inch. That moment screamed in silence. Running away from the person who desired to spend their life with you, you couldn’t prompt yourself to walk down that aisle carrying weight on your shoulders instead of flowers in your hands.

Guilt filled up your petrified heart. Absurd flashbacks start surrounding you, a champagne bottle in one hand, and a broken heart in the other. You’ve never been cognizant of how things developed into this. Perhaps you perceived that instances would change the second Juyeon’s once flexible plans became too vague and secretive for you to comprehend. You were always aware that you were preparing to get down on one knee, your friends even spoiled the surprise just for you, but you simply weren’t eager and ready for it. You and Juyeon were too different. The moment you dropped Juyeon's trembling hand as you two danced the night away, you knew you never deserved any of this.

As you ran whilst having blurry eyesight due to tears streaming down your face, it caused you to fall down the stairs and leave you bleeding on the floor. You could barely recall being put inside an ambulance and merely regained consciousness after hours of being inside the hospital. 

Juyeon was beside you the entire time. Yet you couldn’t stand that, knowing he's the reason why you broke down in the first place.

After you got discharged from the hospital, you never spoke to Juyeon again. You started to disregard his phone calls, block his texts, and ignore the constant knock on your door because you know damn well that it’s Juyeon.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve the life you're willing to offer.

But he’d rather be hurt by you over and over again than not having you at all.

Six months had gone by.

If there’s one thing that you’ve learned during your healing, it was that your feelings were like waves. At a certain point, you realize that you’ve fully moved on and the waves have subsided, albeit the next thing you know the waves become rogue, and you’re sobbing with your head in your hands, missing what no longer was.

It’s raining. The continuous pour of water droplets reminded you of your uncontrollable tears during the last six months. You had this thought creating space inside your brain for it to wander around, it kept on asking how he was. And as if the Gods have heard your mind’s calling, a knock was heard from the door.

Looking through the peek hole, it’s as if your heart stopped beating once you saw the person on the other side.

Lee Juyeon.

You swore that if this was a dream, you’d never sleep again if it meant reminiscing or recreating distant memories. Trying to pinch yourself, you cursed over and over again, knowing for a fact that this is certainly not one of those reveries.

It took everything in you to get your trembling hand towards the doorknob and open it to reveal a drenched and intoxicated Juyeon. He reeked of alcohol—which you could already tell considering him holding a bottle in his right hand. You hated the smell, you hated that his wet figure casually made the floor of your patio slippery, but most importantly—you hated having him here.

“Why are you here, Juyeon?” You asked, surprising yourself that you did not stutter. Juyeon’s eyes met yours and stayed there, he didn't even dare to move an inch.

‘No. Not those eyes. Don’t give me those eyes.’ you thought.

“Can we please talk?” You let out a sigh. If you had a dollar every time you heard those four words during the last six months, you could probably buy yourself a car.

“Stop it. Stop hurting yourself.”

“I’m not,” He responded, but his state right now tells you otherwise.

He’s been visiting you almost every week in spite of you ignoring him. He’s been texting you nonstop. He’s been showing up just when you thought that you've finally gotten over him.

It’s hard to let go of the person you love, but it’s even harder to hold onto something that can no longer render love. The only constant thing in the world is change, it’s inevitable. Who knew that along with the seasons, your feelings would change too?

Six months ago, you were still happy with Juyeon. Six months ago, you were still in this fairytale-like romance that never failed to sweep you off your feet. You never knew that things would indeed change for the worse.

That one night, that one forethought. It all turned into something bigger than you could possibly visualize. As he got down on one knee, thoughts and notions began to consume your fragile mind, drowning you in a sea of overthinking.

His parents never liked you. You would often feel his mother’s cold gaze towards you during gatherings, and his father can’t even look you in the eye. No matter how many times he tried to persuade them, you know for a fact that they despise you.

They weren’t even there when he proposed.

Who knew that it all took you a small velvet jewelry box to conclude that Juyeon was exceedingly out of your league?

You could tell that his parents were glad—no, relieved that you ended things with Juyeon. And you know for a fact that during the last six months, they’ve been setting their son up with hyper-privileged women with rich-ass companies. They were nothing compared to you and the life you have. This made your stance even stronger because ending it all was probably for the best.

“Stop making it harder than it already is, Juyeon.”

“Just talk to me. Please. Just this once.” Those disconcerting brown eyes staring into yours.

Finally giving in, you let him inside your house. Aware that his clothes were still dripping, you rushed to your closet and grabbed the sweater that he gave you, the sweatpants that he left, and a towel.

Mentally cursing at yourself for still keeping his things, you handed it all to him and pointed towards the bathroom without saying a word.

“Thank you,” He muttered.

He placed his bottle of alcohol down your coffee table and directed himself inside the bathroom. You simply watched his statuesque figure as he closed the door. You let out an exasperated sigh, wondering what may happen.

As he got out, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He looked good, but his aura screamed in agony and despair. You could tell how much he’s been through. He sat beside you, but he wasn’t too close. You cleared your throat and moved a bit further from him.

“Can we talk now?” He asked. His voice sounded desperate, the way he said it sounded more like a plea rather than a question.

“Go on. We can talk until the rain stops,” You responded, simply staring out the window as rain came pouring down.

"Where did it all go wrong?" You turned your head to face him.

“Nothing went wrong, Ju—”

“No. Something did. We were happy, Y/n. It was us against the world.” He cut you off.

“That's the thing, Juyeon,” You stood up from the couch, still facing him. “We were against the world. No one liked me, Juyeon. Not even your family. That’s when I realized that maybe I was the problem. Hell, that's when I fucking realized that maybe I was too selfish. A selfish bitch that cared only about her own happiness when in fact you were exceedingly out of my league. We wouldn’t live a happy marriage even if we wanted to.”

“And you’d really let them define us?” This time Juyeon was the one who stood up to face you.

“I didn’t want to, Juyeon. But they made it so fucking hard for me! I could barely comprehend my thoughts whenever I was around them. They made me feel as if I did not have a place for you in your life. They made me feel as if I’m some kind of phase for you!”

“Y/n, do you know how hard it is for me to hear you cry yourself to sleep every night when we were together?”

Without realizing it, tears started streaming down your face. “It hurts me so damn much. I never cared about what people had to say regarding our relationship. I just focused on our happiness.” He continued.

“I did too. But it was all too much for me. They suffocated me too much just so I could let go of you. It made me realize a lot of things—that you deserve gold yet I was penniless. That you deserve flowers, but I can’t plant them even if my life depended on it.” You told him using nonsense metaphors to claim your case.

“There are so many more women who deserve you,”

“I don’t care about them, Y/n! I just want you in my life.”

“They’re better than me.”

“If it’s not you, then I don’t want it.”

You didn’t reply.

“I wanted to run away with you, Y/n. Run away to the life we both want without anyone telling us how to live our life.” You were too silent for his own liking, but he continued to talk.

“That night when I proposed, I expected you to say yes because I thought that you’d rather spend your life with me than break things off just ‘cause other people wanted us to.”

“I bought tickets, Y/n. I bought plane tickets to Paris. I remember you telling me how much you wanted to go there. I already pictured us there, getting married and starting our new life without suffocating ourselves in people’s demands.”

Saying that you were shocked by his revelation is an understatement. You never realized that he could’ve thought all of it through. You thought that you only kept your pain to yourself, when in fact Juyeon already had the plans for both of you secured.

“Y-You really did?”

“I did,” he moved closer to you. “But instead of a flight with you to Paris, all I had was a night train home all alone.”

You started to visualize it. An audible sigh escaped Juyeon’s lips as the sound of the train tracks echoed across his head, booking the night train might’ve somehow helped his repudiating state. He must’ve sat there alone, nothing but hurt and misery filling up his bones.

“I didn't know that.” You closed your eyes, not bearing to look at him.

“That's when I got a call from your mother, saying that you got in an accident,” You finally got the courage to look him directly in the eye without a teardrop falling down your cheek. Albeit, Juyeon’s eyes started to become teary. You felt bad. You felt guilty.

“I fell. I wasn’t thinking straight. I had the urge to run away and I did.”

“I was with you during your recovery. Your convalescent body made me weak. It made me think that I should’ve done more to avoid your overthinking. I should’ve reassured you more.”

You vividly remember how your mother went on and on about Juyeon’s stay with you while you were still confined at the hospital. She kept on telling you how Juyeon would never leave the room even if your mother told him to. Juyeon would sleep whilst sitting on the unstable plastic chair near your bed just in case you woke up.

You started to regret pushing him away the moment you regained consciousness. His frown clearly displayed devastation, but you were too caught up in your own emotions to grasp the importance of having him beside you.

“I should’ve told you I love you no matter what other people say.” Juyeon cupped your cheeks, you looked at him as the two of you continuously shed tears. You placed your hands on him, caressing them. He wiped away your tears and gave you a warm smile.

That smile. That benign curve between the corners of his lips gets you every single time.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting us. I’m sorry for letting other people tell us otherwise.” You started apologizing nonstop. You could feel your eyes becoming puffy, and your cheeks becoming warm. You simply held Juyeon’s hands and looked at him, not leaving his gaze.

“Shh. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. Your feelings are valid. You are always valid. You shouldn’t change your ways just because they tell you to. You should distance yourself from people who make you feel as if you don’t deserve to be here.” all you can do now is smile. Although tears are still forming in your eyes, you now feel safe.

“You’re not hard to understand, Y/n.” Those simple words were enough to make your heart melt. Despite confusion still lingering, you could care less now that you're within Juyeon’s embrace.

Juyeon wiped your tears, he looked at you with so much love. As if the last six months have been nothing but a burden to him. As you started to conceptualize the future, you came to conclude that you don't need to do that. You realize that with Juyeon, you shouldn’t ponder over anything or anyone and simply focus on each other.

“We'll make it through together, okay? I promise.”

He brought you to the couch to sit down. He then grabbed the alcohol bottle he brought with him the moment he came and simply threw it in the bin. Juyeon has your house memorized from ceiling to floor, and he can easily tell that nothing has changed. He went to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and soon gave it to you as he sat down beside you.

Muttering a small “thank you”, you wiped your tears and smiled at him.

“Won't it be hard?” You asked, placing the glass down.

“What will?” He asked, fixing your hair as he tucked a strand behind your ear.

“Constantly trying to keep me reassured, me getting 'what ifs', and having a hard time coping up with everyone's say.”

Juyeon didn’t say anything yet, but he pulled you into an embrace. Playing with your hair, he started to talk, “Keeping you reassured isn’t a problem, you’re my responsibility. It’s my job to keep you assured. Just tell me all of your thoughts, alright? I’ll help you get through it.”

You released from the hug. Juyeon cupped your face and caressed it gently which made you melt in his touch.

“Can we take our time?” You asked. Juyeon gave you a reassuring nod and kissed you on the forehead.

“Always, baby.” the endearment made your heart flutter.

“Wanna order something?”Juyeon nodded, “You also need to get rid of your hangover.”

“Hey! I wasn’t drunk! I didn't even finish the bottle.” Juyeon protested which caused you to giggle. You missed this. You missed him a lot.

After ordering food, the both of you cuddled with your back facing his front as his arms held you close. It was all you ever wanted.

Perhaps it had to go like this. Perhaps the distance between the both of you for the last six months was all you two need in order to breathe and grow together. Perhaps you two were meant to break and fall back together again. Whatever it is, happiness is all you ever want.

And your happiness meant being with Juyeon regardless of the ridicule and hatred your relationship got from people surrounding the two of you.

“What if the rain stops now?” You joked, looking back at him.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me, baby. I’ll always be with you.”

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plots: Across a Crowded Emergency Room

Katara's leg bounced up and down in agitation. She blew air out through her clenched teeth and glanced at the clock. As popular as Aang was, she couldn't figure out why she was still his emergency contact, seven months after they broke up, but when she got the call, she didn't have the heart to ignore it. A compassionate choice she was beginning to regret as the clock marked the end of her fourth hour sitting in the emergency room. A nurse walked out from the triage room and looked down at her clipboard. Katara leaned forward, anxious to hear Aang's name called.

"Sosoro," the nurse called. "Sosoro, Jun." Katara slumped back in her seat with a groan as a woman with her arm clumsily wrapped in a bloody bath towel sauntered forward.

"Sorry," Aang said, looking at her shamefacedly. Well, as much as he could look at her with his neck in a brace.

"Aren't they supposed to take head and neck injuries more seriously?" Katara grumbled.

"Well...I guess since I wasn't unconscious this time they don't consider it an emergency, emergency," Aang suggested with a shrug. "And the brace is more of a precaution, since I can move my neck."

"Then why am I here?" Katara asked. "Why did you have them call me?"

"I didn't want to ride in the ambulance," Aang explained sheepishly. "My insurance wouldn't cover it."

"Okay, fine," Katara huffed. "But you're here now. You don't need me anymore, right?" Aang looked stricken, and fixed her with the kicked puppy look that used to make it impossible for her to tell him no, even when she really wanted to.

"You'd leave me here all by myself?" he asked, sounding on the verge of tears. "You know I hate hospitals. And how will I get home? It's too late to call someone else!"

"I will pay for a cab," Katara promised. "It's late, and I'm tired and I have a test to study for."

"But I don't want to sit here alone," Aang insisted. "Please, Katara? I know we're not dating anymore, but you're still one of my closest friends. Please don't leave me." Katara was torn between aggravation and pity. For a moment, she thought the aggravation would win out, but then Aang always did have a gift for tugging just the right string.

"If they don't call you back in an hour, you're on your own," she muttered, crossing her arms. Aang beamed at her. This was her own fault, Katara reflected, as she rubbed her tired eyes. She was old enough to know better than to stay friends with her exes.

A commotion at the entrance of the hospital pulled Katara out of her doze. Two men, one younger, one older, stumbled in, clinging to each other. At first, Katara thought they were there for the younger guy. There was a large, angry looking burn on his face, but a moment later, Katara saw the older man's puffy face. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, and his lips were several times larger than they should've ben. The burn on the younger man's face was scarred over, and several years old, Katara guessed. At any rate, it didn't seem to be giving him any discomfort at the moment. He and the older man stumbled up towards the reception area, where already, the nurses were scrambling to help them.

"I'm fine, Nephew," the older man said through his swollen lips. "My throat hasn't closed."

"You're not fine," the young man, Nephew, snapped. "You look like you tried to beat someone with your face. I told you to stop trying to brew tea from random plants you found in the park."

"The white jade and the white dragon flowers look so similar!" the old man lamented. Nephew threw his arms out to his sides and let his head roll backwards, as if he was silently pleading with some higher being for patience. Then he helped his uncle into the wheelchair an orderly had brought for him. After hearing how gruff he'd been with the old man, Katara was surprised to see how gentle Nephew was with him.

Of course the old man was rushed back immediately. Katara wasn't annoyed at that. It was clearly an emergency, even if he insisted that his throat wasn't closing. Nephew started to follow the team back, but was barred by a nurse.

"You'll have to wait here," she said sternly.

"What? That's my uncle! Why can't I go back with him?" Nephew sounded angry. Looked it too, but the nurse was unmoved. He would have to sit in the waiting area until the doctor's exam was over. Nephew seemed to be ready to fight some more, but the nurse just turned and walked back into the triage area. Nephew accepted his defeat gracelessly and flopped down on a chair across from Katara and Aang. The door opened again, and Nephew looked up anxiously, as if expecting someone to let him back with his uncle after all. Instead the nurse looked down at her clipboard.

"Namkha," she called. "Namkha, Aang."

"That's me!" Aang announced, jumping to his feet. Katara noticed the spring in his step with annoyance. If she'd sat in this emergency room for nearly five hours for nothing to be wrong with him...

Katara sighed and settled back into her seat. There was no use dwelling on it now. She just had to get through this bizarre night, and then she can tell Aang she needed a break from their friendship. Someone else could take over saving him from his own shenanigans. And this time, she would stick to her guns, puppy eyes or no.

Across from her, Nephew gazed aimlessly around the waiting room. He was chewing gum, and popping it occasionally, which is what drew Katara's eye to him. He was handsome, she thought, detachedly. The scar didn't detract at all from his chiseled jawline, or his full lips, now busy blowing another bubble. He was wearing a dark colored jacket that hid his arms and chest, but the squareness of his shoulders suggested someone who knew his way around the gym. He didn't seem to be much older than Katara, either. Maybe a year or two, if that. The bubble he had been working on popped and he saw Katara staring. He raised a brow, but Katara was too tired to be embarrassed. She gestured vaguely towards his mouth.

"Did you bring enough to share?" she asked. Nephew sat for a moment, seeming to size Katara up. Finally, he reached into his jacket pocket and passed her a crumpled packet of gum. There was only one stick left inside of it. Katara was about to protest taking his last piece, but he just held his hand up.

"It's fine," he said. "Help yourself." Katara accepted it with a thanks.

"Was he alright?" Katara asked, hooking her thumb towards the triage doors. Nephew sighed and rolled his eyes, but he looked at the doors with more than a hint of worry.

"My uncle is obsessed with tea," he told Katara. "He likes to forage in the park because, according to him there are a lot of edible plants that make great tea."

"He picked the wrong one, this time?" Katara concluded. She shook her head sympathetically.

"I'll say," Nephew snorted. "He's just lucky I was working tonight."

"Working?" Katara asked.

"He owns a tea shop," Nephew said, with a half shrug. "I help out sometimes, and tonight I had the closing shift."

"That's nice." Katara wasn't sure what else to say, but that seemed to be the right thing. Nephew shrugged again.

"It's easy work, anyway," he said. "He let's me work around my school schedule." Katara nodded. That was interesting information. There were only two schools in the area, so they might go to the same one. Katara wondered if their paths had ever crossed before. But she thought she might have remembered meeting him.

"What's your boyfriend in for?" Nephew asked.

"He's not my boyfriend," Katara said firmly. "And he's in because he can't stop himself sometimes. There was nest of abandoned owlets in a tree on campus, and he climbed up to try to rescue them. Only, mama owl came back and knocked him out of the tree."

"Ouch!" Nephew winced. "Is he okay?"

"Fine enough that the doctor kept us waiting here for four and a half hours," Katara huffed.

"Yikes." Nephew shook his head. "You must be exhausted."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Katara groaned. "And I have a test tomorrow. All I want is some coffee." Nephew gestured towards the other end of the waiting room.

"There's a kiosk in the main lobby," he said. "They're probably still open." Katara groaned miserably.

"I was in a rush to get my friend here," she explained. "I left my wallet at home." Nephew shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. He seemed nervous.

"Well...I could go for some coffee myself," he said. "I've got my wallet on me. I could treat you." Katara hesitated. Nephew's shoulders had bunched up to at his ears and his dark hair fell into his eyes. It was cute, Katara thought, how self-conscious he was. He must have women throwing themselves at him, but buying one coffee at a kiosk had him blushing. Finally, Katara smiled and nodded.

"That sounds great," she said. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," Nephew mumbled. He was smiling slightly, though.

"I'm Katara by the way." She grinned at him. "I figure you ought to know my name if you're buying me coffee." Nephew shot her a half-smile. Already, she found it endearing.

"Zuko," he introduced himself.

[cholie]

Precious.

Back to masterlist

Pairing: Best friend!San x Gn!Reader.

Word count: 533.

Genre: Fluff, very slight angst.

An: It's been way too long since I last wrote a fic so this is probably a little ouff, hope you enjoy it anyways!!

"Please, as if I'd wanna be with you anyways, you're not anything else than a crying mess. "

That was the last thing you heard from your now ex-partner before closing the windows of your parent's car you borrowed over the weekend to actually visit your partner. but now you're driving away as fast as possible, probably over to San, no negative thought could enter your head and it was making you crazy.

"Perfect." You mumbled as 'Ily' by The Rose popped up on the radio, tears leaving your eyes making it harder to drive in the already pouring rain.

-

After knocking violently on San's door for 2 minutes he finally came to the door.

"OKAY OKAY OKAY I'M COMING!!" You could hear from the other side, steps getting closer and closer to the door.

"WH- Oh my god y/n are you okay???" San's face went from annoyance from being woke up by the knocking to as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"No." Was all that managed to escape your mouth as you just silently stood there, dripping from the rain and as stiff as a tree, sobbing quietly.

"What happened?? Did they do anything?? WAIT wasn't this the supposed that was reserved to spend the weekend with them????" San couldn't stay quiet and filled your head up with questions.

"Can I come insi-" You didn't get to finish your sentence as San literally dragged you inside after that, wrapping you in a hug not caring if he'd get soaked as well, seeing you cry broke his heart.

-

"Wait okay so after all this time, your relationship was just a bet? What in the 2000's rom-com is this..." San said, making you both laugh a little.

"Yeah, it's weird, right? Some people apparently just can't seem to be honest, honestly making it through half a year impressed me." You said, not tearing up as much, sipping on the hot beverage San made you, he even let you borrow his giant hoodie and made the couch comfy with blankets.

-

Neither you nor San checked the clock and before you knew it, the clock was 3 am and you were laughing at stupid memories.

"Okay but remember when Yunho made that challenge with Yeonjun and they both ended up in detention because the teachers caught them?" You said, San laughing so much his stomach started hurting.

"Good times." He said, snuggling closer to you, eventually making you both feel tired, you eventually both ended up falling asleep on the couch in a weird but comfy sleeping position that'll probably make your body hurt in the morning.

-

Waking up to each other wasn't something odd, you've been having sleepovers or cuddling countless times.

"Morning." You said in union, smiling to each other.

"Wanna go get brunch and ice cream after? Heard Seonghwa is covering the shift today so if we're lucky we'll get a discount!" He said, you nodded excitedly.

You grabbed some clothes you knew you had at his place and borrowed a jacket and off you were to spend a sunny day together, trying to forget about your dickhead of an ex, at least you had your best friend to comfort you, always.

[cinemastyles-blog]

Your Brother Will Kill Me

Summary: Wattpad request by cinemaaarry - “i would love to see harry and sister of his best friend trope!”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, fluff

Y/b/n -> your brothers name || Y/f/n -> your friends name

Master

LONG HAIR HARRY

“Ah. She’s alive.” Harry laughs, “Thought you’d at least sleep until noon.”

“Hey buzz kill.” I say with an eye roll.

My brother scoffs, “What’s your issue?” I walk over to the fridge and mumble, “Your friend is my issue.”

I hear them laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I ask as I pour juice into my cup. They look back at me, “You’re just mad that we ruined you and y/f/n’s night.”

“Yeah. You did. I thought you were staying at his house.” I take a sip and set my glass down, my eyes meeting Harry’s. He smirks, “Probably saved you from doing something dumb, like calling that ex asshole of yours.”

I tilt my head, the thoughts that we’re thunk last night spill into my head and I raise an eyebrow, “Not the dumb thing I was thinking of doing.” I smirk, “But okay.”

Harry tilts his head back and smirks as he shakes his head.

“No, Harry’s right.” My oblivious brother starts, “You didn’t need to call him, so I’m glad we came home.”

Harry stares at him for a few seconds before looking over at me and laughing, “Yeah, y/b/n, you’re right.”

“What? What did I miss?” He looks back and fourth between me and Harry and I shrug, “I don’t know. I have to go see if y/f/n is still alive.”

I look in the room and see y/f/n sleeping peacefully. I shut the door quietly and walk over, plopping down on the couch and flipping the tv on.

“Really, y/n?” Your brother says with an attitude.

“It’s my house and I’m letting you stay here.” I smirk at him as he nods with sigh, “Fine.”

My eyes meet Harry’s and I lick my lips at I look back at the tv.

I’m not even watching it, I’m thinking about the possibilities that could have happened if Harry and I’s time wasn’t rudely cut short last night.

“You’re drank a lot, y/n.” Harry’s voice causes me to jump out of my drunken stare into the fridge.

“Not uh.” I giggle as I shut the door, the light leaving us in the dark, “I’m f-fine.” I feel Harry’s presence grow closer and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

He lays a hand on the counter next to me and leans against it, “You feel okay?”

I sigh, “I’d feel better if you were insi-“

Harry cuts off my drunken words with pressing his lips to mine and pulling me close to his body his with a tight grip on my hips.

I moan against his lips and he leans back, “Shh, love. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”

I shake my head, “I don’t really care right now.” I push my lips onto his, my tongue slipping into his mouth. I fist his shirt and pull him towards me, his arm wraps around my waist and leans me back slightly before he pulls away and quickly makes his way to the couch.

“Why is it so-“ my brother flips the lights on and looks at me, “What are you doing?”

“Getting water, what are you doing?” I say placing my hand on the counter for more stability, “Why are you here?”

“Harry’s roommate is hosting some game night shit and we didn’t want any part of that.” He walks over and hands Harry a bottle of beer.

Harry looks over at me and winks.

“Y/n. Hello. Y/n.”

I blink and look over at them, “What?”

“Earth to, y/n.” Harry says waving his hand, I laugh slightly and shake my head, “There you are.” He smirks at me and leans back against the couch.

“We’re going to order food, do you want anything?” My brother asks. “Yeah, just get me whatever.” I look back at the tv.

“Okay, I’ll go call that in quick, what would y/f/n want?” He asks as he stands up. I look up at him, “Just get her what you get me.”

He nods and walks away. I glance over at Harry, who looks so relaxed. I just want to lay on his chest.

“Hmm?”

I look up at him, “N-Nothing.” I look away from him and can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Mhm. Sure it doesn’t have anything to do about last night?”

I slowly look over at him and shrug, “Maybe.”

“We’re not finished.”

His words send a shiver of excitement down my spine, “You think so?”

“Know so. As soon as I get you alone-“ he stops talking as my brother walks back in, “Surprises you two haven’t killed each other.”

“No, she’s been alright lately.” Harry jokes with a snort, “I think she’s finally starting to warm up to me.”

I shoot him a glare and hide my smile, “Mm. Don’t flatter yourself Styles.”

——

“What are you doing up so late?”

I look over and see Harry leaning against the wall, “Can’t sleep.” I shrug and smile at him, “What are you guys doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be back until late?”

He walks over and grabs a water from the fridge before leaning down on the counter beside me, “Something your brother ate, made him sick.” He laughs slightly, “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

I laugh quietly, “No, it kind of is. I tell him all the time that what he gets from Moe’s makes his stomach upset but he never listens to me.”

Harry chuckles and let’s out a sigh, slowly turning his head towards me, “So.”

I look over at him and draw circles on the counter, “So..”

Without any more words, he stands up and pulls me under him. His lips meet mine as he lifts me up on the counter, “We’re alone.”

“We are.” I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug slightly. He moans lowly against my lips and nods towards my room. I nod and slide down off the counter. I pull Harry with me and shut my door, making sure to lock it before I turn back to him. His shirt is already off and he’s looking at me, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Be in my room?” I tease as I slip my shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He shakes his head and walks towards me, pushing my back against the wall, “Touch you like this.”

I arch my back and wrap my arms around his neck, “I’ve thought about this and so much more so many times.”

“Yeah? What did you think about?”

I bite my lip as he kisses down my neck, “You.” I breathe out, “And me.”

He hums against my skin.

“I’ve thought about all the nasty things you could possibly do to me.”

He leans back, “We’ll have to make tonight a little bit of a quickie. But..” he pauses and kisses me, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

I nod and he pulls me over towards the bed, “Take your pants off.”

I do as he says and lay down when he points to the bed. I have a feeling I know what he’s about to do, but I can’t help but feel nervous.

“You good?” He asks as he gets on his knees at the end of the bed. I smile and nod, “Oh yeah.” I bite my lip and close my eyes as his hands slide up my legs, starting at my ankles.

He drags my panties down my thighs, shins and over my feet and drops them onto the floor.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers quietly with a smile, “Your brother will kill me if he know what I was doing to his little sister.”

I cover my mouth and laugh. I nod, agreeing with him before I pull him down to kiss me.

He makes his way down my body, kissing my skin with open lips. He pushes my knees apart and his lips attach to my clit. I throw my hand over my mouth and arch my back.

“Shit.” I moan into the palm of my hand, “Fuck, fuck.” I reach down with my other hand and lay it flat on Harry’s head, moving my hips as he licks between my folds. He pins my hips down and groans against me.

My eyes roll back as he begins to tongue fuck my soaked cunt, my breathing getting quicker as he continues.

“Shit.” I gasp as I slam my hand down onto the blanket, gripping it tight as I bite my lip hard.

He slides a finger in and I moan kinda loud, I can tell it was loud because Harry mumbles a quick, “Mm.” against me. I look down at him and he’s looking directly up at me, his tongue still working slowly along side his finger.

I nod and whimper in response. I laying back and arching my back as he slides in another finger.

“Fuck.” I say almost silent. I can feel my orgasm rushing in.

He sucks my clit and pumps his fingers at a slight faster pace, pulling me to the edge.

I arch my back high off the bed and cover my mouth with both hands as I cum, clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

He slowly pulls them out as I rest my back down onto the bed, panting.

I look down and Harry puts his fingers between his lips and closes them, groaning as his eyes roll back.

I watch in awe as he licks his fingers clean. He opens his eyes and smirks, his pushing his bottom lip down slightly as he pulls them out.

He crawls up and hovers his body over mine, “You taste divine, my love.”

I lay a hand on his cheek and smile up at him. He reaches down and pushes his underwear down, just enough to pull his throbbing cock out.

“Do you have any condoms in here?” He asks as he brushes hair out of my face. I shake my head, “No, but I don’t want to stop.”

“We’ll just have to be extra careful and hope for the best, right?” He chuckles and rubs the tip of his cock against me before sliding in.

I gasp and tilt my head back. He brings his hand up and lays it over my mouth, muffling my moans as he thrusts in completely. I clench around him as he gives me a second to adjust.

I nod and he pulls out, almost all the way and thrusts back in. He leans down, kissing my neck as his grip on my chin to cover my mouth tightens.

Small groans and curse words leave his mouth. He buries his face into my neck, “Shit, baby.”

I wrap my leg around his lower back and dig my nails into his shoulder and arm, moaning into his palm.

We both freeze as we hear my brothers bedroom door open up. We wait until we hear the shower next door turn on and I look up at Harry and giggle, “Time to hurry.”

He winks and flashes me a smile before reaching down to push my legs out. He leans up and starts to thrust again. I grab the blanket and arch my back, biting my lip hard.

My eyes roll back as I can feel my second orgasm coming in faster than the first. My body is consumed by pleasure and press both of my hands to my mouth to muffle my moans the best I can.

Harry’s thrusts get sloppy once he knows I came and he pulls out, pumping his cock as he cums on my waist with a grunt or two.

I point to the laundry basket with a towel laying over the side and he nods. He walks over to grab it and wipes me off first, then gets himself cleaned up.

We quickly throw on our clothes and he leans down to kiss me, “If he asks, you were asleep and I was on the couch laying down.”

I nod, “Got it.”

He smiles at me and gently grabs my chin, “I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” He winks before quickly and quietly sneaking out of my room.

——

Thank you for the request, if anyone has any other ideas, please feel free to send them my way!  

Tag list: @daddybuckethat @hsonlyangelxo @harrysluvv @tbsloneely @haroldsbabymama @victoria-styles

if you want to be added for new one shot updates click here -> Tag List Doc

[syscultureis]

plural culture is when you split an introject who is just like their source and they meet someone else insys from the same source who is COMPLETELY different

ex. we have a hannibal (nbc) who is an anthropophagy holder and frequently barred from fronting cuz he tries to bite people and gets VISIBLY turned on by somwone in pain

and he met our will who goes by bubba, is genderfluid, uses any prns, and an openly gay man who is very much a sweet little dumbass

and yk the whole being a 50 year old white man in a afrolatino afab transmasc body thing

.

[smileyg0th]

tell me why some “dumbed down” kinder detransed version of the host’s ex just showed up in the headspace? she’s like some sort of manifestation of his fears but they’re apparently insys dating again.. like a week or two after said ex abandoned the host 🙁 genuinely if any systems could explain id absolutely love that i’m so sad

[systemtermz]

https://www.tumblr.com/systemtermz/747942102771679232/hi-when-youre-not-busy-could-you-coin-a?source=share

Hii! This anon. Came to elaborate if needed

Of course, many terms can have many meanings. We do have examples though.

For example, technically polyamory, we have an alter that takes many forms within headspace (hivemind) and some alters that present as one but are more than one to some extent. (ex: subsystems, fused subsystems, form-sharing alters, etc.) In a relationship, they might count/present as One, but prefer to be seen as many.

Foe technically non/anamory, it's not very unusual to have alters that don't prefer to be seen as real or as anything (Like Hands, who is a conceptroject fictroject, or [], who dislikes being acknowledged much. In the case of a relationship, either may use such a term to describe it.

Here you go.

-Baron

[mrsunshineboy]

love(/sar) how i had a full-blown panic attack over him talking to me for just ten minutes, and it went on for like two hours. myy throat hruts so bad yall and myface is so red n puffy. i rlly had hope he wouldnt takl tio me again but igf hes still obsessed over me

[ghxst-system]

A masterlist of some of our favourite pronouns that are frequently used insys!

Neopronouns:

Thxy/Thxm | Hx/Hxm | Shx/Hxr | Ae/Aer | Xi/Xim | Xe/Xem | It/Its | Zi/Zim | Ex/Exs | Ze/Zem

Nounself (And similar) pronouns:

Freak/Freakself | Mourn/Mournself | Meow/Meowself | Bun/Bunself | Paw/Pawself | Fluff/Fluffself | Hurt/Hurtself | Pain/Painself | Pup/Pupself | Light/Lightself | Woof/Woofself | Bite/Bitself | Chomp/Chompself | Hate/Hateself | Moth/Mothself | Love/Loveself | Vex/Vexself | Time/Timeself | Sin/Sinself | Death/Deathself | Mono/Monoself | Blur/Blurself | Curse/Curseself | Hex/Hexself | Zeep/Zeepself | Zorp/Zorpself

Emoji/Symbol pronouns:

🐾 | ☁️ | 🌷 | 🌊 | 🪼 | 🪽 | 🩸 | 🦈 | 🎉 | 🦊 | 🐺 | 🔪 | ☕️ | 🌑 | ❄️ | 🧿 | 🩷 | 🖤 | 🚬 | 🎶 | 🎧 | 🎀 | ¿ | ? | ♡

[no1frogfan]

Endings and beginnings, part 3

Tsukishima Kei x gn reader

Chapter word count: ~2k

Chapter tags & warnings: alcohol (mixing drinks), angst, talking about having children, heavy emotional content, divorce, emotional abuse (not by Tsukishima or reader), gaslighting (not by Tsukishima or reader)

Note: Tumblr very much did NOT want me to upload this I guess because it’s taken me now SIX tries. Gods of tagging please stop eating my post

Series masterlist < part 2 | part 4 (wip) >

3. June

Business is slower than usual considering it’s a Friday night. The night is young though, not quite 5pm, plenty of time to organize the glasses and syrups and check the stock of mixers and garnishes ahead of the crowd.

Just in case, you decide to cut an extra container of lime wedges. Last weekend, everyone and their mothers wanted the cucumber melon gin spritz, and by the end of the night you’d run out of limes to garnish the glasses and the lemons you’d used as backup. It’s funny how popular the drink was considering you had to sell your boss on the idea. He was convinced that yubari melon would make the drink too sweet and mask the flavor of the cucumber. Trust me, you’d assured him. After testing a dozen different mixes, you finally hit upon the perfect one. If only you could’ve bottled the look on his face when he first tried it.

You cut into another lime, slicing off the top and bottom before neatly dividing it into wedges and tossing it into the container.

You cut into another.

And another, almost nicking yourself.

And another, because you’re thinking about him again.

Things have felt off between you since Sakusa’s party. You’ve met up with him and Yamaguchi a few times, but he’s been…distant. And even more so over text. Maybe Yamaguchi’s presence at the party lulled you into thinking Tsukishima still felt as comfortable around you as you did around him, comfortable enough to open up to both of you about his feelings, even if it meant yelling at you at first. And without Yamaguchi around — undoubtedly the one who’d kept in better touch over the years — you were merely an acquaintance.

Yamaguchi insisted you shouldn’t read into it, though it was difficult not to. “Tsukki probably just doesn’t want to burden you,” he said. But that’s just it. It meant you were no longer a person he could rely on.

When the three of you first met in middle school, you couldn’t understand why a sweet, bubbly person like Yamaguchi could be friends with an arrogant, sarcastic jerk like Tsukishima. You’d defended him against Tsukishima at first, not believing him when he laughingly informed you that he didn’t need defending. But at some point, over months and months, your opinion of Tsukishima shifted. Maybe you started to notice the near-imperceptible fondness and appreciation he had for Yamaguchi, and the way he supported Yamaguchi in quiet ways, even if he could never bring himself to say his feelings out loud.

Or maybe it was when he started to let you in too, letting you borrow his books, and sending you songs he thought you might like or new artists he came across.

That’s probably what fueled your crush on him, the feeling that you were special to him, in the way that close friends are and maybe hopefully a little bit more.

His words lost their bite over time, and by your second year of high school, Tsukishima seemed a totally different person — still snarky, sure, but more cheek than venom. Quick to tease, but also quick to console you whenever you were actually upset, making you laugh with some choice words about your ex or a bag of your favorite candy which was “coincidentally” in his backpack. The three of you were basically together 24/7, even during practice when you could always be found studying on the sidelines, often with their favorite snacks at hand.

That’s the year when Yamaguchi finally told you about what happened between Kei and his brother — the game that changed him so abruptly into the sullen boy you’d first met. Yamaguchi had constantly insisted that Tsukishima used to be gentler, but you never believed him until then. It was only afterward that you truly understood how hard Tsukishima worked on himself, to put himself out there, to take risks, and be a better person to those around him.

“He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball to make an effort, and he doesn’t think he’s likeable enough to have friends,” Yamaguchi had observed once, surprising you with his teenage perceptiveness. Considering Tsukishima’s breakthroughs in volleyball in those short years, and how often you and Yamaguchi were accosted by classmates eager to date him, you were both convinced it’d only be a matter of time before he’d get overconfident and you’d have to knock him down a few pegs.

But, that’s not actually how self-esteem works.

You know that now.

Over the past few months, Yamaguchi filled you in just a little — maybe because he himself felt guilty for not realizing and intervening sooner — slowly revealing interactions he’d witnessed between Natsumi and Tsukishima that were painfully illuminating. The way Natsumi would condescend to Tsukishima behind closed doors, shout at him, goad him, and ultimately flip it on him, accusing him of being stupid, manipulative, and vindictive. Doing favors for him and then holding them over his head. Blatantly flirting with other people, then ridiculing him for feeling jealous. A million and one behaviors that were sickeningly familiar to you.

You know now that self-esteem can erode quickly, especially a newborn confidence as fragile and wobbly as Tsukishima’s. And to be treated like less than nothing for so long by someone so close to him… well, you suppose it’s not surprising that he’s hesitant to let you in again.

You don’t realize you’re just staring at an empty cutting board until something moves in the corner of your eye.

Looking up, you see Yamaguchi waving at you from the end of the bar. You hurriedly wipe your hands on the towel hanging from your waist. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“About time you noticed,” he grins, “Since you always come to one of our neighborhoods to hang out, Tsukki and I decided to make the trek out to you for once!”

You hold out a drink menu which he immediately waves off. “I feel like whiskey tonight.”

“Whiskey, hmm?” You turn to take stock of your bar, pulling out a clean single malt along with some smoky lapsang souchong syrup you’ve been dying to experiment with.

“How’s Yachi doing? And your kitten?”

“Yachi’s doing great! The kitten is too, but I think he likes her more than me,” he laughs, “though I can’t blame him.”

You pour some of the syrup and two shots of whiskey into the shaker over ice, eyeballing the amount. “Does he have a name yet?”

“Not yet! We’re going to wait and see what his personality is like first.” You taste it and crinkle your nose.

“And how’s Makoto-kun?” Yamaguchi follows.

You hesitate, brain simultaneously attempting to decipher what’s missing from the drink and answer the question delicately. “He’s fine.” Your eyes land on the house-made umeshu and you pour some in. “We had an argument.” You taste it again — a little sweet, a little tart.

“Oh. Do you want to talk about it?”

You squeeze in some lemon and give the drink a brief shake before straining it over ice with a grimace. “He wants kids as soon as possible.”

“Ah. And you don’t.”

“…I honestly don’t know if I want them at all. But if I did, it wouldn’t be any time soon.” You shrug. “We talked about this early on, but I don’t think he realized how much he wanted kids until all our friends started having them.”

You garnish the glass with a twist of lemon peel and slide it over. Yamaguchi takes a sip, eyes widening and snapping up to meet yours.

“Glad you like it.” You smile, happy to change the topic.

“Who wants kids?” Tsukishima appears next to Yamaguchi. Of course he overhears that part.

“Makoto.”

“Ah.” Thankfully, he doesn’t press you any further. Instead, he scans the drink menu. “Which of these red wines should I get?”

“Are you sure you want one of those?” You laugh.

His face immediately drops into a sneer. “Sorry I don't know what all of these are. Some of us have other jobs.”

“I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you,” you hurry to apologize, “I wasn't implying that you should be familiar with those wines. It's just…I noticed that you always order red wine when we go out but you never seem to enjoy it. The reds we have here are great, and I’m happy to recommend one for you, but I was hoping I could convince you to try something else?”

“Do it, Tsukki! This drink is amazing and all I said was that I wanted whiskey!”

Tsukishima nods reluctantly.

“Coming right up!” You try to remember what Tsukishima drank the last few times you went out together. The first meet-up was at a wine and tapas place near the museum and he’d ordered a cabernet. You thought it tasted fine, but he really had to push himself through it, so when he went to order another glass, you’d suggested a pinot noir, a lighter, fruitier red that might be more to his liking. He did seem to like it better, but still didn’t appear to love it, all the while insisting he did.

At the time, you’d chalked it up to him having an off day.

Something similar happened the second time though. He’d ordered a black coffee, but could barely bring himself to drink it.

Then again, you don’t want to push him too far out of his comfort zone, so maybe…

You scan through the bottles in the refrigerator — “Here we go, try this” — and pull out a bottle of dry rosé. Not too sweet, not too floral, crisp and easy to drink. You pour him a mouthful to try.

He takes the glass skeptically, the corners of his lips pulling down just a fraction. “No offense, but—”

“Just try it,” you urge, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll find you something else.”

“…Fine.” He tosses it back in one smooth motion, head tilting back, emphasizing the single bob of his adam’s apple. He sets the glass back down on the bar. “That’s surprisingly good.”

You give him a smug grin as you fill the glass.

“Don’t get cocky, it’s probably a fluke,” he scolds, reaching over the bar to pinch your cheek harshly.

You reach up to swat his hand away only to accidentally knock over the wine bottle. “SHIT!” You scramble to right the bottle. Luckily, it was only half full so not much spills out.

You quickly wipe the bar down with your towel as Tsukishima laughs, a real one, deep and resonant, that rings out from his chest.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” You glare at him as heat rushes up your neck. He’s laughing at you, they both are, but the fact that you’re also in on the joke makes you feel a sense of relief, like the tension has finally dissipated and you’re floating.

“Ok, ok it's not that funny,” Yamaguchi giggles to Tsukishima as much as himself.

A few customers make their way in and you walk over to serve them before returning to refill Tsukishima’s wine and making Yamaguchi a second drink. Before you finish, another three customers enter one behind the other. 6pm now, prime time for the after-work crowd. Within 45 minutes, you’re absolutely swamped with drink orders. It doesn’t help that the other bartender on shift is late today.

“We’re gonna go get dinner!” Yamaguchi informs you when you finally get a second to check up on them.

“Oh, ok! Thanks so much for coming!” You wave, and seeing them reach for their wallets you quickly add, “Don’t worry, it’s on me tonight. You can owe me a drink next time!”

“Oh, here. I almost forgot.” Tsukishima pulls a big square envelope out of his bag and hands it over.

You accept it with confusion, eyes widening as you pull out a record. “Where did you get this?!”

He shrugs. “Co-worker.”

“But I’ve been looking for this vinyl everywhere!”

“I know. You told me the other day.”

“Well…uh, thank you,” you mumble in disbelief. That floating feeling returns, and you recognize it now.

It’s not just relief.

Fuck, you wish it was just relief.

[lobotomycorpagents]

Agent Gemiano, he/they

LVL EX, W Damage, [Inst-Insi] title

Main EGO: Fading Construction of a Memory +

[the-dreamworld-system]

I'm in a sys posting mood tonight so here I am . I understand the psychological & emotional reasons of why this happens to us in particular but we've had like a total of four-ish factives ever, and they're like

- actually dead guy who was like "fuck it imma be a zombie inworld for fun"

- our wholeass actual mother as a teenager, who transgenderified and proceeded to evolve over years into "average guy mcjohnathon"

- random celebrity we felt completely neutral towards at the time

- our own ex-host because their insys boyfriend flipped tf out after they went into their work room and couldn't be sensed/talked to for literally like only three days. dramatic mf