#it doesn't look like this is showing up in the tags

[bucketbueckers]

TEAM BUECKERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, kinda silly, kinda rushed

wc: 5.9k

synopsis: For you and Paige, the line between “friends” and “something more” wasn’t always this blurry. You weren’t quite sure how you got here, and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to ever cross that line fully. It’s not until Paige ropes you into a Valentine’s Day couples contest you realize, with the two of you, that line never really existed at all.

notes: happy (late) valentines day 😋 yes i'm posting this after midnight on february 15 and yes i tried my best to get this out on the 14th when it was, you know, actually valentines day, but i fumbled majorly and im like 50% sorry. not proofread bc im sleepy. i lowkey don't know how to feel about this but i think the end makes up for it but i had an idea for this and it honestly derailed. i still don't know how taglists work (if you've asked and you're not on here, i'm sorry i will just throw up and die if i tag someone who doesn't actually want to be tagged in all of my works i hope u understand, pls be super specific my brain doesn't function like it used to) uhhh so yeah lmk what we think & happy vday 🫶

tags: @jnkbueckers

You and Paige weren’t always like this. There used to be a clear boundary in your friendship, a strictly platonic one where her embrace didn’t make your heart race and where her mischievous smile didn’t fill you with an exasperation that bordered on endearment. You didn’t always wear her jersey at games, didn’t always keep her favorite ice cream stocked in your apartment for nights she came over to binge watch the same show the both of you have probably seen a combined thousand times, didn’t always confuse where you begin or where she ends. There used to be a time where the two of you weren’t so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives. 

If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to identify when everything shifted – when your feelings transformed into what they are now. It just happened. The realization was as easy as waking up next to her on the couch, your legs tangled under a blanket far too small for the both of you, her arm tight around your waist to prevent you from falling off of the cushions entirely. It was as easy as the spare toothbrush you keep in your bathroom because she sleeps over so often, as easy as the drawer you have in her room because sometimes her dorm is just closer than your apartment.

So maybe it was kind of inevitable that ‘you and Paige’ turned into a ‘You & Paige.’ The two of you have a simple understanding. You keep her grounded, she encourages you to dream a little bigger. You talk, she listens. You round each other out in so many ways that you’re not the least bit surprised by how many people think that you and Paige are dating. If anything, they’re more surprised when you correct them, saying, “She’s just my best friend.”

You’re content to take your feelings for her to the grave. Maybe you would get over her eventually. She’s Paige Bueckers. She has a national championship and the upcoming draft to focus on and you have your senior thesis due at the end of the semester. The both of you have a lot on your plates – you care for her too much to complicate things for her, even if that means putting your own feelings on the back-burner.

You’re sitting on your couch, twelve pages into your paper, sifting through the twenty-eight (yes, twenty-eight) tabs you have open for your research when you hear your door knob jiggle. You don’t think too much of it, trying to stay focused on the task in front of you before you give up and start scrolling through social media again. However, your discipline doesn’t last for too long because the familiar rhythm of footsteps could only belong to one person. You look up to find Paige making her way into your living room like she owns the place (which she may as well, considering how often she’s around), depositing her duffle bag on the armchair. You greet her, returning to your work, but you feel the couch dip under her weight as she takes a seat next to you.

And then she sighs. Loudly. Dramatically, like she’s begging for your attention. Like you’re not busy. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finding her staring straight at you, but she says nothing. A few beats pass. You add a new sentence to your paper, pausing to go back and find the reference page. She sighs again, more purpose and intent behind it this time, and your lips quirk slightly. Still, she says nothing, and the silence stretches on for so long that you’re sure she’s given up on trying to annoy you.

You write one more sentence before she leans over, sprawling out across your body, chin pressing into your keyboard. Your eye twitches as a long string of ‘M’s takes over your Word document. Paige sighs again, sounding forlorn, like a kicked puppy, and you know you’re not going to get anything done unless you entertain her.

“Okay,” you say, pulling your computer out from under her head, making sure to save your paper before you close the lid. “What’s wrong?”

Her face brightens almost immediately. “I am so glad you asked,” she states. “So, I’m walkin’ through campus today, right?”

“As one does.”

She hums. “And there’s a shit ton of tabling outside the student union. Frats, clubs, some vegan guy giving out pamphlets –”

“Paige,” you interrupt, raising a brow. “The point?”

“Oh.” She nods, collecting her thoughts. “So there was this club – forgot who they were, lowkey, there was a lot of letters – but on Friday, they’re hostin’ a Valentine’s Day contest and the first place prize is insane. I’m talking gift cards, cookie decorating kits, I think there was even a coupon in there for a fucking spa trip, or some shit, but you get the point, yeah? I wanted to sign us up for it.”

You had to admit – you were a little intrigued by it. Between your class work and Paige and her teammates giving you an aneurysm every week, you were in dire need of a spa trip and a little bit of relaxation. But more than anything else in the world, you knew Paige. You recognized that gleam in her expression – it was a feigned nonchalance, like she was being slick and trying to hide it. “What’s the catch?” you ask bluntly.

She laughs, the sound more surprised than amused, and her head shifts in your lap to gaze up at you. You try to ignore the way it sets off a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “What makes you think there’s a catch?” she asks.

“You’re Paige Bueckers,” you state. “There’s always a catch. Like I knew there was a catch when you asked me if I would hide fourteen blonde wigs in my apartment.”

“They were for CD!” she argues. You narrow your eyes at her and she huffs a little, amused, her lips quirking into a radiant smile. “A’ight. I guess you got a point.” You hum, because of course you do. Her expression turns serious as she sighs, for real this time. “It’s a couple’s contest,” she admits. “But hear me out, okay?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” you grumble, but your mind is racing.

“There’s a couple rounds,” she explains. “Like, the first round is trivia. How well do you know your partner, type shit. They score you, then they eliminate the people who don’t know shit about their partners. Second round is teamwork. They’ll give you a couple of puzzles and the most points will go to the teams who work well together and solve the puzzle quickly. More eliminations, then the partners are separated and they’re asked questions about each other – about what, I’on know. That should be the final round of eliminations and then the remaining couples are ranked based on points and prizes are given. Light work.”

“Light work?” you echo, a little self-deprecating. “Paige, we aren’t a couple.”

“Well, not exactly,” she concedes. “But we know each other pretty well. And can you really say no to the spa coupon?”

You bite your lip, sighing as you truly contemplate it. She’s got you there. The prize itself is worth the heartache that will come with pretending like you and Paige are actually dating. “You sure we can handle it?” you ask.

She pats your side, almost ignorant of the way it sends electricity coursing down your spine. “Duh,” she says like it’s obvious, her lips growing into a confident, assured smile. “We’re a dream team, baby. We got this.”

You could only hope so.

You nervously adjust your dress as you and Paige stand outside of the large room that the Valentine’s Day contest was taking place in. You spent the entire week leading up to Valentine’s Day an anxious wreck – part of you was worried that you would slip up and say something that you would come to regret, maybe say something a little too real. You had to keep reminding yourself that you and Paige were playing a part and once that gift basket was in your hands, then things could go back to normal. 

The two of you dedicated the better part of the week to perfecting your cover story. How you met, where you met, how long you’ve been together, all of the cheesy romance milestone moments that you were certain you’d be asked about. You mutually decided to not get too creative as maintaining the lie would become even more difficult, but you were confident in your ability to sell a story.

“You ready?” Paige asks you, drawing you from your racing thoughts as she squeezes your hand gently. You didn’t even realize her hand had slipped into yours. Now that you’re aware of it, it’s all you can think of. Her hand is strong, enveloping yours completely, and it brings you a calming peace you weren’t even aware that you’d been seeking out. Feeling yourself relax, you meet her eyes and nod, trying not to smile too hard when she beams at you.

As she leads the two of you inside the auditorium, you do your best to not stare too much at her. She’s dressed simply yet elegantly; donning a fitting suit that’s a light pink in color in honor of the occasion, the fluorescent lights overhead reflecting off of her stunning chains and the rings adorning her fingers. Her hair is tied back in her formal slick-back, the diamonds in her ears sparkling, and you really have to drag your eyes off of her. You’d already spent so much of the drive over staring at her and you’re sure she’d caught you a few times but was too nice to say anything to you.

The event had a decent turn out. You count fourteen couples at most, fifteen including you and Paige, although you couldn’t really tell if that was good or bad. Beating fourteen other real, actual, dedicated, in-love couples was totally manageable. So what if you and Paige weren’t actually together, but you were the most convincing pair of best friends the world had ever seen? She said you could do it, and damn it if you weren’t going to get that spa treatment.

The auditorium, however, was decorated to the nines. Lights and streamers were strewn about, various complementing shades of pinks and lilacs matching the Valentine’s Day themes. The tables were covered in pink tablecloths with gorgeous centerpieces. Honestly, you had to give props where they were due – this club has gone all out for this Valentine’s Day event, although you’re sure they probably splurged their semesterly budget on all of the amenities.

Before you or Paige have the chance to say anything to each other, you’re approached by a young woman wearing a pink polo shirt with the club's name and logo emblazoned on the chest. UConn, UMatter. You glance quickly at Paige, trying not to let the amusement show on your face as you remember her words – ‘There was a lot of letters.’ She was so full of shit. “Hi guys!” the young woman greets enthusiastically. “Thanks so much for signing up. What’s the last name?”

“Bueckers.”

The girl nods, scanning her clipboard before finding Paige’s name. “Okay, perfect. Let me show you guys to your table.” She leads you diligently through the room, craning her head over her shoulder to explain. “Madelyn’s gonna be around soon to walk you guys through the trivia section once we start, alright? She’ll let you guys know everything you need.”

You and Paige thank the club member and she offers you two one last smile as the two of you sit down next to each other. Paige’s hand finds your knee, almost subconsciously, and you try to find your dignity. It’s then that you notice the placecard in front of you – elegant script reading TEAM BUECKERS. With a quiet laugh, you nudge Paige’s elbow, drawing her attention to the paper. “‘Team Bueckers,’ huh?” you ask her teasingly. “You forget about me?”

“Never,” she swears. “I think they assign the names based on who registered. Trust me, I had a name lined up and everything. We were gonna be PB & Slay.”

You snort. “I’m Slay?”

“No,” she deadpans. “You’re PB. Keep up, please.”

“Of course,” you say obviously, like it’s definitely your fault. “I’ll do better next time.” She squeezes your knee under the table, smiling wryly at you.

Once everyone filters in, the girl who’d greeted you at the door makes her way to the front of the room, adjusting the microphone. She introduces herself as the president of the UConn, UMatter club, explaining some of their objectives and goals for the spring semester – you tune out a lot of it, which you’ll probably feel bad for later, but you weren’t here for the club recruitment. You were here for the pedicure that was calling your name this weekend. She makes it through the rest of her opening remarks, officially announcing the beginning of the first challenge: trivia. Several club members make their way to designated tables and a short, brunette girl takes a seat in front of you and Paige.

“Hey, guys,” she says, grinning widely and handing the both of you dry erase boards and a marker each. “I’m Madelyn. I’m gonna walk the two of you through today’s challenges. We’ll go back and forth – you answer one, then the other, so on and so forth. If your answers are the same, then you’ll get a point. Ready?” You and Paige hum affirmatively. “Alright. Question for Paige – when is your partner’s birthday?”

Paige huffs, her lips quirking into a smile as she uncaps her marker. “Light work,” she murmurs as she writes her answer down. “It’s a national holiday.” You roll your eyes as Madelyn laughs. Paige flips the dry erase board around, showcasing it to you and Madelyn, and you nod as Madelyn awards you both one point.

“Same question for you,” Madelyn says to you. “When is Paige’s birthday?”

You uncap your marker and write down your answer. October 20, 2001. “The world hasn’t known peace since,” you murmur under your breath, drawing laughter from Paige. You flip your board around and Paige nods smugly.

“Two for two,” Madelyn states. “Next question for Paige. What trait of yours is your partner’s favorite?”

You and Paige exchange a glance, her brow raising teasingly. She writes down her answer and you do the same, eventually flipping your boards over for the reveal. The two of you hadn’t exactly prepared well to answer this one, so you were hoping that you and Paige were on the same wavelength. You lean forward, glancing at her whiteboard, and smiling with relief when you see her answer: she likes my energy. Paige’s smile is smug, but there’s an underlying softness in her eyes. “Don’t laugh at me,” you huff, trying to explain. “You just — you have this way about you, like you’re kind, warm, you make people smile, and you always support them. You’re just genuinely good and, I don’t know, I really like that about you.”

Paige’s smile isn’t any less confident, although she seems a little bashful now, her cheeks tinging pink. “Three for three.” she says.

Madelyn tries to stifle her grin, but it’s clearly not working. “Next question is for you. When Paige is having a rough time, how do you help her relax?”

“With great difficulty,” you gripe, making Paige and Madelyn snort as you write your actual answer. By forcing her to chill the fuck out. You and Paige flip your boards, hers reading a much politer She makes me do nothing all day. Madelyn nods, awarding you the point, but you hardly pay her any mind as you meet Paige’s eyes. “You do too much,” you say, which makes her groan. “You overwork yourself and you microdose a burnout and I have to make you sit down and remember that you’re human.”

“You’re worse than me!” she points out.

You sniff. “This is about you,” you declare, “not me.” Paige rolls her eyes fondly, but she can’t help her laughter. 

“Next question,” Madelyn says, grinning. “Paige, what did you guys do on your first date?”

This was a question that the two of you had prepared for. You both decided that a little bit of the truth went a long way and the truth was that you and Paige had no shortage of quasi-dates that you could easily draw from. You tried not to think too hard about that as the two of you write down your answers. You turn your boards, revealing similar responses of ‘we went to her dorm and made dinner together after one of her games.’

You glance at Paige and she sighs. “Don’t start,” she pleads. 

“I’m actually a little invested now,” Madelyn chirps, which makes you grin and makes Paige bury her head in her hands. 

“All I’ll say is that Paige shouldn’t be in the kitchen without supervision but I really admire her, um, willingness to get creative,” you say kindly. Your best friend pinches your thigh under the table and you jerk back, laughing. Not wanting to embarrass her in front of a stranger, you leave it at that, although you smile at Paige like you’re the only two at the table. “I had a good time, though. She made it memorable.” She smiles back at you, something tender that has your heart constricting. 

The both of you knew the truth, though. Paige was not a good cook. She doesn’t make terrible food — dinner was delicious, but Paige is chaotic and an actual hazard. Watching her chop an onion hurt something deep inside you although she’d seemed so proud of herself. You didn’t have the heart to make fun of her. 

“Five for five,” Madelyn says, drawing your attention back to her. “Next question for you. Who confessed to who?”

You and Paige lock eyes again, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, and you write down her name. You turn your boards, Paige’s name written on the both of them and you smile to yourself. “She was pretty oblivious,” Paige says, referring to you, and your smile falls as your jaw hits the ground. “I dropped so many hints and she just didn’t pick up on them. I eventually got tired—”

“Desperate,” you cut in. 

“Tired,” she emphasizes, smirking at you, “so I planned out this huge romantic thing and at the end, she still didn’t understand so I told her straight up.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you’re just not as slick as you think,” you tell her. 

“Nah,” Paige says. “I’m super romantical.”

“Sure,” you concede. 

Madelyn stifles her smile. “Alright. Two more questions for both of you. Paige, what is your partner’s pet peeve?”

“If you get this wrong,” you grumble, hearing Paige snicker as the two of you write down your answers. After you flip your boards, she grins proudly when your answers line up. 

“She hates not being taken seriously,” Paige recites. “She’s an English major. People always think it’s just easy or unimportant shit, like reading and writing papers, but she actually does a lot of interesting analysis and stuff that I never even considered. I’ll admit I was a little ignorant but she set me straight.”

“Wait, I didn’t know you thought that,” you say, honestly confused. 

She shrugs, a little bashful. “I talk a lot but I listen. Sometimes when you leave the room, I’ll read your paper just so I can ask better questions. You get all… glowy. And… I’on know. I like seeing you happy.”

You blink once at her, genuinely touched, and if you weren’t head over heels for Paige before then you definitely are now. She squeezes your knee again, her smile crooked yet tender. Damn it. You are hopeless. 

“That’s so sweet.” You’re a little shocked by Madelyn’s voice, but you clear your throat, refocusing. “Next one for you. What’s Paige’s least favorite season?”

“That’s easy,” you say, writing your answer down. Paige does the same. When you flip your boards, you glance at Paige’s, smiling wryly. “Paige hates spring. She has really bad allergies and all of the pollen is honestly a death sentence, so she’ll get all congested and sneezy and will spend a good two weeks bitching about it and how it makes her Jeep dirty.”

You glance at Paige, waiting for her to say something, but she just shrugs with a smug expression. “Last question for Paige,” Madelyn says. “What is something your partner does to show her love for you?”

Neither of you say anything, but Paige stares at you thoughtfully, another silent conversation passing between you. You don’t need to think about your answer as you write it down. On cue, you both flip your boards, Paige’s reading simply, She takes care of me. You can’t help the way your heart swells, a fond smile overtaking your face. “Before you, I wasn’t really the… you know, the receiver, I guess. Always in control, always expected to lead. You make me feel like I can just be me, which is really hard sometimes.” Paige laughs off the vulnerability, but you see right through it – the painful honesty.

“We’re equals,” you remind her, nudging her leg with your knee. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her voice soft as she gazes at you. “I’m glad that we do.”

You spot Madelyn out of the corner of your eye, which sobers you up quickly. She smiles. “You guys are so cute,” she gushes. “Final question for you and we’re done with this round. What is Paige’s love language?”

You feel Paige’s stare on you as you write, but you don’t glance back at her. You can hear the scribble of her marker, her capping it. When you’re finished, you finally look at her, taking in the soft expression on her face, and despite yourself, a smile grows on your face too. Together, you turn your boards, your answers being the exact same once more — quality time and physical touch. “Ten for ten, baby,” you croon, raising your hand for her to smack her palm against.

“Great job!” Madelyn says. “Let me just go submit these scores and I’ll be back to walk you guys through the puzzle round after eliminations. Sit tight.” She offers the two of you a quick grin before she’s walking off.

“Ten for ten,” Paige repeats, nudging you a little. “We’re like that?”

“I guess we’re actually kinda good at this friends thing,” you retort, although part of you wishes you were anything but.

Paige’s subsequent grin is far too knowing, like she has a trick up her sleeve. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh a little under your breath, adjusting your dress and leaning back in your chair to get comfortable. Before you know it, the scores are officially in. You and Paige had a perfect one, so you weren’t all too worried about getting eliminated in the first round, but five unlucky couples ended up leaving. The two of you watched from afar, trying not to stare too hard at the retreating couples, although they made it hard. One girl walked out crying, gesturing wildly as her partner trailed behind her, a desperate expression on her face. Another one was pure anger, slamming the door behind her. You didn’t think that this club contest would get people so riled up, but you considered that it was probably the realization that your partner truly didn’t know anything about you. You just lucked out with Paige – she understood you.

Madelyn returns quickly and cuts straight to the point. She instructs you and Paige to stand up, handing the both of you a towel, and adjusts your arms until you’re holding the towels perpendicular to each other, almost intertwined. “The goal here is to separate from each other, but it can be tricky because the towels will tangle you up. We’re looking to see how fast you can solve this puzzle and how well the two of you work together. Are you guys ready?” You and Paige nod and Madelyn grins again. “Alright. You can start.”

Instantly, the room around you two is sheer pandemonium. The couples around you are moving quickly, trying to untangle themselves, but it’s clear that the panic is settling in. You and Paige exchange a glance, laughing to each other softly. “Game plan?” she asks you.

“We need to get these like…not perpendicular,” you offer helpfully, and Paige nods, adjusting her arms. The angle change makes your towels bunch up and twist at their centers.

“Spin around,” she instructs. You do as so, the towels untwisting around the middle. You pause to analyze your situation, trying to plan out the moves in your head as Paige does the same.

“Okay, bring your towel over my head and let me step through it.” After that move, the both of you glance down, taking in your situation.

Paige hums. “The rest is easy,” she says. You nod in agreement, a silent understanding passing between the two of you and you move in tandem, twisting and shifting and stepping up until you’re both finally separating from each other in record time, having completed the puzzle. “We’re like that?” she asks you again, her expression smug and satisfied in a way that’s only comparable to when she’s on the court and her lips are curling after sinking a contested three point shot.

“Dream team,” you remind her, letting the victory wash over you, clapping your hand against hers, although she doesn’t immediately release you, squeezing your hand with a proud smile.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen anyone solve it that quickly,” Madelyn admits. “Or that calmly.” As soon as she says it, a commotion from the other side of the room draws your attention. There’s one couple that are twisted so unnaturally that it looks like they’re playing Twister, but it seems that the girl gets tired of the shenanigans because she drops her towel and storms out with a frustrated yell. “Case in point.”

You laugh and Madelyn walks away again to tally the points and make their final eliminations. Once everything is set, five couples remain out of the initial fifteen. After the last challenge, two couples will be eliminated once more and the remaining three will be given prizes in order of points. You and Paige were determined to finish strong – if the first two challenges were any indicator, you two had this in the bag. True to Paige’s word, the couples were being split up for the last challenge, and she offers you a competitive smile as Madelyn whisks her away.

You pass the time on your phone although Paige isn’t gone for long. However, what does shock you is the sudden bashfulness that’s clear as day on her features, like the last challenge had made her confess something important or she had to be vulnerable. You can’t help the sudden worry that seizes your body, but Paige rests a hand on your hip, squeezing you once with a confident smile. It couldn’t be that bad.

Madelyn leads you into an adjacent room where the president of the club is sitting at a table waiting for you. She smiles when you enter, motioning to the seat across from her, and it feels strangely like entering the principal’s office in elementary school, like you’re in trouble for something. The club president doesn’t spare any time for pleasantries and instead cuts right to the chase, something that you’re grateful for.

“I’m not gonna take up anymore of your time, but after seeing you and your partner perform so well in this contest, I only have two questions for you,” she explains. “This is our second year running this contest and no one has scored as high as you two have, which is kind of insane because the third round scores haven’t been added yet.” You smile politely, honestly unsure of what to say, but the club president continues. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Going on three months,” you respond, thinking back to the timeline you and Paige had agreed on, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. You are a little surprised by how real your next words feel. “We were best friends for a really long time before then – we still are. Paige is just…that kind of person that makes you feel like you’ve spent forever with her, you know?”

The club president hums, agreeing. She pauses before glancing up at you, studying your features. “What’s something that you haven’t told your girlfriend, but you would want her to know?”

You hardly need the time to think about your answer, responding, “That I love her.” The club president’s expression softens, a smile growing on her face. “We haven’t, um, gotten there yet, but I mean it. I wanna make it perfect for her. She’s given so much to me in the short time we’ve been together and in the time we were friends. And she just…she means everything to me.”

She smiles. “I think you guys are perfect for each other.”

Despite yourself, you smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I think so, too.”

After your solo questioning wraps up, you meet Paige at your table and you offer her a bashful grin, similar to the one she’d offered you when she returned. You don’t have the chance to say anything else to her as the final round of eliminations are being announced. You and Paige are spared, which doesn’t surprise you, and the two eliminated couples take their loss with dignity as they exit. Paige links her hand with yours – final three. In third place, Team Parker. In second…Team Hayes, which means that first place can only be –

“Team Bueckers.”

You and Paige relax immediately, high fiving each other in celebration. What you’re not fully expecting is the tight hug that Paige pulls you into, whispering a fond good job into your ear, although you can’t help the way you soften, sinking into her embrace. She leads you to the center of the room to collect your goodie basket. The various club members send you off with their congratulations, too, and you pretend to not notice the slick wink that Madelyn shoots you as you and Paige walk out.

The night air is cool, making you shiver slightly, and Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s sliding off her blazer and settling it over your shoulders. You smile gently at her. “You won’t be cold?” you murmur.

“Nah,” she promises, nudging you. “I can handle it. You, though? I’on know.”

“That’s no way to treat someone who just won you these spa coupons,” you say, reaching into the gift basket to wave said coupons in the air. “C’mon, I clutched up, you can’t lie. And to think you wouldn’t have even had a partner for this if you didn’t rope me into it. I think we played our parts pretty well.”

Paige laughs gently, a tinkling sound that carries over the drag of the wind. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she asks, but there’s no true offense behind her words.

You stare at her in confusion. “Get what?” you respond.

“Do you remember that question Madelyn asked you earlier?” Paige says, her steps slowing, tilting her head down to look at you. The street lights reflect off of her face so beautifully, the blue of her eyes illuminated by the soft light. You can’t help the way your heart constricts at the sight. “‘Who confessed to who?’” You hum, urging her to go on. “You remember what I said? That you were oblivious and I dropped a lot of hints you didn’t pick up on?”

The gears in your brain spin for a few revolutions before everything clicks into place. “Oh my God,” you breathe out. “Are you–”

“Confessing?” she says, her lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah.”

“You dropped hints before?”

“So many,” she confirms.

“Oh my God,” you say again. You stop in your tracks, prompting her to do the same. The expression on her face is endlessly amused. “You planned a huge romantic thing – this?”

She shrugs. “The contest was the club’s shit, but yeah. I planned on asking you to come with me to this. I didn’t actually care about the prize, but the coupons are pretty sweet, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring her rambling. “You planned a huge romantic thing, but I still didn’t get it at the end, so you told me straight up,” you finish, partly in disbelief. “You think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” you accuse, which just makes her break out into laughter. “You literally sat next to me and told me exactly how you were going to ask me out and I didn’t know? And not only did you do that, but you were right about it?”

“I know you,” Paige says a little smugly. “And I told you that I could be romantical.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” you whisper, but her arm is slinking around your waist, pulling you into her body as she grins insufferably, and you let yourself be pulled, your hands resting on her chest. “You are literally so annoying.”

Her nose brushes yours as she inches a little closer. “You know what they asked me in the final round?” she says, her voice loud enough for only you to hear. You nod. “They said, ‘What’s something you haven’t told your partner, but you’d like to?’”

“Funny,” you say. “They asked me the same thing.”

She smiles at you. “I told them I’d tell you that I love you,” she confesses.

Your cheeks burn as you register her words. “Funny,” you say again. “I told them the same thing.”

Her expression shifts, something like relief flashing in her eyes, something tender in her gaze. “Did you?”

“Well, I told them that’s what I would tell my girlfriend,” you trail off intentionally. “Seeing as I don’t currently have one of those…”

“Don’t play,” Paige murmurs, squeezing your hip gently, drawing a laugh from you. “Be mine?”

“You gonna share those coupons?”

Her eyes are bright when she responds. “I’on even care about them. Just want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

That promise is all she needs. She smiles at you, happiness in her features, and she doesn’t waste any time before she’s leaning in fully, her lips finding yours. You’re eagerly responding, melting into her as her arm tightens around your waist. You loop yours around her neck, standing on the tips of the toes for better leverage. Before you know it, her grin grows too wide and the two of you are laughing against each other’s lips, the sound of your love and giddiness the perfect way to end a perfect night. If you had Paige Bueckers and her annoyingly charming antics to look forward to, then one thing is for certain – you couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for Valentine’s Day next year.

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[sunsetmaidenwrites]

An Essay on SamBucky

Just got back from seeing Captain America: Brave New World and am full of thoughts. The following contains Sambucky-centric thoughts, head canons, and spoilers based on the movie. (I have a separate post that includes my overall thoughts on the movie but this one is solely Sambucky.)

Sambucky nation--we rise! No divorce era for us! (Though it did provide for some awesome, angsty fics). I hope the trend continues with Thunderbolts*. Bucky is obviously looking rougher there than he did in this movie, so we're not out of the woods yet, but I'm feeling pretty good about our chances.

There's so much to say here. Multiple Bucky mentions (Sam alluding to Bucky when he talks about having a friend who was controlled by trigger words.), a picture of SamBucky prominently displayed at Sam's headquarters, Bucky showing up as emotional support when Sam needs him most, the hug, the "Buck" and the "I love you, Buddy." All of these have already been mentioned a lot, though, so for this post (who am I kidding this is an essay!), I would like to highlight a few points pertaining to the movie. I haven't really seen discussed in the Sambucky tag yet.

First, Sam says the following to Bucky at the hospital:

"Joaquin’s in here. Isaiah’s in prison. And Sterns…I had him. I had Sterns right in my hands but he got away." Bucky is given no additional backstory here, which means he already knows who Sterns is and what Sam is dealing with. This indicates Sam and Bucky are in regular contact with Sam keeping Bucky filled in on what's happening. This isn't just a case of Bucky seeing news footage and immediately going to Sam. Bucky is an active part of Sam's life and support system.

Then we have Bucky's line:

"Steve gave people something to believe in, but you give them something to aspire to." Bucky's admiration and devotion to Sam here is quite evident. I fully believe Bucky Barnes is all in for Sam Wilson and has been probably for longer than even he realizes.

Then toward the end of the scene where we get our iconic "Thanks Buck" and "I love you, Buddy" moment:

We have a wealth of unspoken communication here. Sam and Bucky seem to have a whole conversation with both their eyes and body language before they speak these words. Sam looks at Bucky. Looks down at (presumably) Bucky's outstretched hand. Then his eyes cut back up to Bucky. Then they cut back down as he shakes Bucky's hand, then he looks back up at Bucky. For Bucky's part, his eyes never leave Sam's face during the entirety of this. It's only right before he says "I love you, Buddy" that his gaze cuts down from Sam's face. After saying the words, Bucky proceeds to back away and Sam watches him go. The way this scene plays out, and the choices Mackie and Stan make leave a lot of room for subtext and interpretation, imo.

Right after this scene, we also get the female agent coming in with questions/comments about Bucky to Sam, alluding to a possible interest which Sam shuts down with "He's 110 years old." Look, it might make sense for Sam to try to nip a Bucky/Sarah potential connection in the bud like he did in TFATWS and it not mean anything (that's another essay for another day. I wasn't on Tumblr back then to share my thoughts on that.); after all, that's his sister and Bucky was riding on his last nerve through all the previous episodes at that point. It does not, however, make sense for Sam to insert himself into the narrative at this point and try to dissuade a random CIA agent from showing interest in Bucky if Bucky is just his friend and/or Sam's interest in him is purely platonic. It just doesn't. I cannot come up with a logical explanation for this besides the obvious 'that man is mine, step off' conclusion.

And for my last point:

During Sam's final showdown with the red hulk, with the outcome uncertain, and defeat (and therefore death) potentially eminent, Sam proceeds to bitch about Bucky under his breath. "Bucky is full of so much shit..." I know this is supposed to be funny and snarky, but it's also quite telling. We know that the signature of SamBucky's relationship--whether it's platonic or romantic--is the bickering. Not only is Sam spending his potential last moments ranting about Bucky (again, the staple of their relationship), he's also spending them thinking about Bucky. He's going out there facing odds that seem insurmountable and it's Bucky that's on his mind.

So, in conclusion, they're in love.

[nakylvr]

— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

[unpretty]

For Kink Taxonomy Hell:

There are two specific things that are themselves related that show up SO goddamn often and they both drive me NUTS no pun intended- it's mostly a hentai/imitating hentai thing but

Anything dubcon/noncon always has fucking;;;; "Ugly Bastard", which is the actual tag and ot just means the dude is going to look like a gijinka of Bill from King of The Hill and their dialogue is always so bad and the art is always so mid

AND THEN, every time one of these fuckers, or really anyone, gets their dick sucked the girl is like UwU So Stinky and either it's presented as part of the noncon aspect or it's supposed to be sexy?? Like a musk kink thing, which, fine, but that's Not Universal??

Why is "bathes and isn't notably gross as a person" the minority protagonist/maledom????

YOU'RE SO RIGHT FOR THIS YOU'RE SO VALID

every time i fall into a trashpit looking for good fucked up comics (because i like that kind of thing best in comics where no actors are involved tbh!!!) i search in vain for something that doesn't have the ugly bastard in it. where's the foxy bastard. why doesn't a hot guy ever get a mind control app. maybe he has an awful personality and that's why he needs the app. maybe it doesn't have to be that he doesn't fucking bathe.

you get the same thing. the same fucking thing. in any kind of hentai featuring a woman over the age of 20. you think you've finally found the rare comic with a chubby grown woman. the promised land is here. but immediately things take a turn into feet and talking about how stinky and fat she is. like. c'mon man. come the fuck on. can a bitch live please.

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ together; alternate version (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

yunho's been away for tour, only this time, when he comes home you have very different news to share.

style: bullet drabble (alternative sequel to losing time) pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k tags/warnings: fluff, light angst, all things pregnancy and babies, light smut with breeding kink/preg kink (yunho is v happy she's pregnant essentially lmao) notes: this was fully inspired by an anon in my inbox who asked what would have happened in my short fic together if the news reader had to share was a pregnancy and how would yunho react to that. i don't take fic requests, but i love babyfic and this just turned into a little bullet and drabble fic i thought i would share with everyone.

[masterlist]

at the end of losing time, yunho leaves for tour and it’s a long one. a full two, two and a half months abroad in europe while you’re left at home in a different time zone missing him terribly. 

you find out the truth while he’s away, only a few weeks into tour when you start getting sick. it’s not something you can just spring on him while he’s on tour, it would distract him, it would stress him out, and frankly you just don’t know what to do. what decision to make. 

you know how you feel about yunho, and you knows how he feels about you….  but this type of news always changes everything. 

so you keep it to yourself, and you do your best to make it through. 

only when yunho does return.... you’re showing. it's not a lot, just the beginning stages of a curve at three months, but it's starting to be apparent if you’re wearing fitted clothing and it's not something you would be able to keep from him if he touched you. 

so when he comes home, finally, and texts you, asking if he can send a car to bring you to the studio, you want to say yes so badly but you can’t. 

this isn't a conversation you can have in front of anyone else so you say no. and you’re honestly terrified, so you lie, just a little white lie. you tell him you can't come and that you’re not feeling well, you’ll see him another day soon.

anxiety is fully eating you up and you’re spiraling, and you don’t know it but your texts fully freaked yunho out. he's convinced that you’re going to break up with him and waited until after tour to do it, and he's sick about it.

after dance practice, he sneaks out and comes to your place.

all of a sudden hes there, he’s knocking on your door. 

you thought you had more time, you still don’t know how to tell him, what to say- but he’s there 

and -

You're a mess. Your hair is tangled from running your fingers through it again and again, and you're pretty sure this sweatshirt has a coffee stain on it, but he's here and no matter what you have to face this.

He knocks again, a soft rap on the door, "y/n, please let me in,"

"Just a second," You call back, knotting your hair back into a bun and kicking on your slippers. Your stomach rolls with nervousness, but at least, you think, it's not morning sickness.

When you finally pull open the door your hands are trembling, and Yunho's pained expression doesn't help.

"Hey," You manage.

"Hi," His eyes dart over you, a crease of concern between his brows, "can I come in?"

You move to let him in immediately, stepping back into the apartment, "Sorry, of course,"

When you shut the door tight and flip the lock, silence fills the space, but somewhere within you, you find the strength to turn around and look up at him.

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly off balance at the strange discomfort between you, and finally he sighs, "Whatever it is," he says, "I know we can work it out."

A strike of panic lances up your spine at the thought he might already know what words are sitting like lead on your tongue, but all you can manage is a soft, "What?"

"You're avoiding me," His hands flex and release, "we haven't seen each other in months, and now I'm here, and you haven't even smiled. I don't think you're sick, I think something's wrong."

"Yunho," Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears threatening your eyes already. You wanted to hold it together, but this is already too hard.

He swallows tightly and keeps talking, his own voice laced with nerves, "I know two months was a long time, and I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, I should have called more, made more time for us, but, y/n," he takes a tentative step towards you, "I love you, and I really don't want to give up on us, please, don't,"

Things slot into place at his words and you shake your head, "Who said anything about giving up on us?"

The words hang for a moment, and then he softly exhales, "You're not breaking up with me?"

"No!" Your voice squeaks as you rush to dispel that idea, "No, oh my god, not at all,"

He grins, covering his face with his broad hands and sighing, "Jesus Christ," he sighs, "I was going out of my mind,"

"No," You shake your head again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He drops his hands and you can see the tension leave his tight shoulders, "Thank god," he smiles and steps towards you.

Panic bubbles back up inside you and you raise your hand to stop him, stepping back until your hips bump into the back of the couch, "Wait,"

His expression crumbles, "What's going on?"

You just have to say it.

"Um," Your stomach flips, "I do have some news."

"News," He repeats numbly.

"Yeah," You start to cross your arms over your chest but the realization that it would pull the fabric of the sweatshirt closer to you rockets through your brain and you drop your arms helplessly by your side. You have no idea how to tell him this.

"You can tell me anything," He says softly, reading your panic in a moment, "and you know, there's nothing we can't handle together."

"Yunho," Tears start to gather, making your eyes glassy, "I don't know how to tell you this,"

"I'm here,"

The panicked, terrified, anxious part of your brain scoffs, for now. You look away from him immediately, eyes glued to the floor. If this is how you lose him, then you guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

You take a steadying breath and jump, "I have something to tell you," you knot your fingers together, "and I didn't know how to tell you while you were away. I was afraid of distracting you or trying to figure this out while you weren't, you know, here,"

"Okay," He murmurs, taking a slow step in your direction, "I'm here,"

"A week after you left," You press your eyes closed tight, tears tracking down your cheeks, "I missed my period,"

He's silent. Your stomach churns again, but you keep going, "For a little bit I just thought it was stress, or something funny, I'm not always on schedule, but, then I started getting sick," With your eyes closed and with him so quiet, you can almost pretend you're practicing this speech, one of the many times you talked it through in the shower, lying in bed, pacing laps around your apartment. "I'm so sorry," Your voice cracks, "I'm pregnant," You can't bring yourself to open your eyes. "I know I should have told you," Tears rush forward a little faster now and you take a hitched breath, "and I know you don't want this, but you deserve to know, and I... I don't, Yunho, I don't know what to do, I don't know what I'm s-supposed to do, and," Yunho steps forwards all at once, his hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your face upwards, "Hey, hey," he soothes, voice tender, "look at me," Your eyes finally open, meeting his gaze. You expect to find him terrified, any twenty-something guy with a delicate career would be, but all you find in his eyes is soft comfort. There's no trace of the idol in him, just your lover, your best friend. "It's okay," He wipes away your tears gently, "sweetheart, breathe," "Why aren't you angry?" Tears rush faster, your breath tight. He smiles, "I'm upset you didn't think you could tell me," he dips forwards and presses a kiss to your forehead, "but y/n, I love you, this isn't... baby, this could never be bad news." "W-what?" "The timing's terrible," He admits, "and I also have no idea what we're supposed to do, but I don't care. I love you, we'll figure this out." Of all the reactions you expected from him, this hadn't even crossed your mind. When he leans back from you a little to study your tear stained face again, he smiles, and it feels like everything about your life is about to change. Slowly, you pull his hands away from your face and take a steadying breath, "Yunho," you manage, "you're an idol, and besides, we're twenty-six, we're not even married, we're not, what the hell are we going to do with a baby," He slides his hands over yours and brings them together, lifting them so he can press his lips to the back of your knuckles, "We'll do what people do, we'll make it work." You shake your head, feeling fully unmoored, but he keeps going. "I knew you were it for me on the second date," He says and the world slows to a stop, "the only thing in the world I'm terrified of is losing you, but this? y/n, I'm in love with you. Did you think I haven't imagined what our lives would be like?" "I," You can't find the right words, but you try, "I love you," His smile widens, and he moves quickly, tugging you forwards and wrapping his arms around you properly. He's much taller, and he has to lean over you, but he wraps one arm smoothly around your lower back and your hands settle on his shoulders. He pulls you up in one smooth motion, his free hand slipping under your thighs as you wrap them around his waist to hold you tight against him. He kisses your lips, tender relief in every press of his mouth on yours and he nuzzles your nose with his, "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you too," You confess, your body finally relaxing and melting into him, weeks and weeks of tension bleeding out of your body, "so much," He hugs you close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck, and then he freezes, "Oh my god," his hand slides over your back, landing on your waist, "you really are pregnant," You know he can feel it, the change in your body when you're pressed flush against him like this, and you nod into his neck. "H-how," His hand pushes under your sweatshirt, searching your skin, "baby, how far?" "Fourteen weeks," He sucks in a breath, dropping you gingerly back to your feet, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," For a split second you think you're finally getting the anger you anticipated, but the giddy expression on his face says otherwise.

"I've missed so much," He snakes a hand under your hoodie, and lays his palm over your slightly distended belly, "I'm... god, I can't believe this," "You're not upset?" You check softly. "No," He shakes his head, and then he tugs gently at your sweatshirt, "No, but, can you take this off, can I see?" You're nervous again, but his easy energy wraps around you like a safety blanket and you nod, swallowing back any fears and pulling off the sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but your sweat pants, and a tight tank top. His eyes zero in on the bump immediately, and the sliver of skin between your sweats and the hemline of your top. Your hands rest over your belly, a nervous, protective instinct, "I know," He blinks hard, tearing his eyes away from your changing body and up to your face. "What?" You ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "You're really pregnant," He says, his voice a little rough, and then he reaches again until his hand slides over the smooth plane of your stomach, tracing the curve, "that's my baby," "Yeah," You breathe softly. 

Tears track down his face and he laughs, reaching for you again, up into his arms and nestled against him. 

From there?

He’s kissing you and he just can’t stop. 

You’re a mess from stress and tears, and hardly feel sexy, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed you, he loves you so much and this news is unexpected and terrifying but he’s so happy he doesn’t care

So holding you in his arms still, he takes you to bed

And you’re apologetic about the mess, your bed stand is covered with water bottles and anti-nausea medication and it hits him all at once how you’ve just been holding it together by a thread 

And he pulls you into the bed - “You’ve been sick, this hasn’t been easy, has it? I could have been there for you, I wish I had been there,” 

But you assure him that you’re mostly on the other side of it, you’re only sick like once in a while now not every second of every day 

And he’s like….. we are talking about that later, but right now how are you feeling? 

And you’re good…. but god, you missed him and now you’re just so relieved

So he begs you to let him take care of you now, he’s home, he can carry that weight if you’ll let him

And teary tender kissing in bed leaves his hands wandering, noticing how much is different, losing his mind over your bump and the new fullness of your breasts

And he’s hard and you’re touch starved 

And then he’s just losing it a little - kissing your body, telling you how much he loves every inch of you, how insane it makes him that he did this to you, how you made something together

And all the tenderness to dirty talk sends your brain into overdrive. 

It’s all just desperate needy, thank god we didn’t break up i can’t believe i got you pregnant sex

Worshipping oral, lots of body kissing and feral groaning from Yunho

His absolute insanity at being inside you like this - and you’re tighter, wetter, and needier than ever, and he’s just feral for it

“You’ll be the prettiest mommy, won’t you?” 

Just heaps of breeding and preg dirty talk

“God, I hope you want a lot of kids,” 

“You look so good like this, I’ll have to knock you up again,” 

“So pretty with my baby inside you,” 

And when you’re done, you fall asleep instantly. you’ve been sleeping so much more all of a sudden, and you suppose your body needs it, but it feels like you’re finally resting for the first time in weeks

When you wake, your apartment is clean, he got take out (but he’s googling best soups for morning sickness and texting Wooyoung cooking questions), and he’s making a list of everything you’ll need. He’s already making a plan of what you’re going to do. 

So even though the tour was terrifying, he’s home, he’s got you. You’re together on this, always.

[amberinn]

Helloooooo 💖 thank you ^_^

Last song: Need 2 - Pinegrove (I keep on listening to it to repeat, at this point I might be so obsessed with the tune it'll be the first song I actually learn to play on my guitar! 🫶 so motivated, the urge is strong)

Last book:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61848796/chapters/158143225

I love Room 316 a LOT, listen you should check it out right now!!!!!!

It's writing is the best I've seen in a LONG while, and it takes me back to my favourite author ever, unseeliekey, it reminds me of it so much I'm swooning

However I would like to interject properly, that this book has some explicit content...?

In both terms!

You can skip on the.... well! uh..... yeah, pretty easily.

But I'm still on chapter 16 right now, and it's a really heavy work to get through mentally.

I've never been affected or had any trouble going through games with content warnings (like with omori), but this is the one and ONLY work where I advice looking at those really closely, because they leave an impact.

I think it's impressive actually, but yeah.

Really heavy emotionally.

Watch out for yourself, and all.

Last movie: 4th Star Wars movie!!!

With my friend group from SRA, we've huddled up together and watched it, and then glaxx ranted about the lore and explained to us the meaning behind sword colors!

And also how much the republic..... what's it called? rebellion? is screwed!

It was so cool!!! There was this snail guy I think who said like yippee!

There was this really cool race in the desert, and the battle!

....We've actually watched a movie afterwards that, but I remember nothing, not even the title and watching it wasn't too fun.

So I'm considering this one the last one I watched instead!

Last Game: Hollow Knight

Last TV show: snippets of Crazy Ex Girlfriend?

My best friend is a huuuuge fan of it, not even one episode or anything. just like, funny moments or so 🎀

If this doesn't count, Wednesday like a month or two after it came out. 3 episodes.

My little brother said it might be fun to watch!!!

I really liked the special effects and how beautiful it was, so pretty

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet <3

Favourite color: Purple (+Red +Pink)

Last internet search:

58 tabs opened up about lastest ao3 works on the Kaimon tag (I read everything)

@thisisshaddy @mikomikouwubaby

hehe!!!! giving this one to you Shads, n Al! :DD

TAG GAME - 10 People I'd Like to Know Better

thank you for tagging me @zorua-adorable !

Last Song: anna sun by WALK THE MOON

Last Book: junji ito's lovesickness collection

Last Movie: descendants 3 lmao

Last Game: fire emblem: path of radiance

Last TV Show: alice in borderland

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: sweet 100%. i have such a sweet tooth it's a bit of a problem

Relationship: single and not planning on changing that any time soon

Favorite Color: purple 💜

Last Internet Search: fahrenheit to celsius

no pressure tags: @ambeer6 @biblicallyaccurate-candylady @in-a-bucket @nerdofmanymediumsandfandoms @rencatuive @tophats-tea @biggestlen @bleuflowerfields @hqwthornes @asexual-shelly

[slut4megantheestallion]

LISTEN TO ME, I HAVE A REQUEST THAT HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR A LONG TIME! Arcane women x reader who is part of the du Couteau and Medarda families. Personally, I would like it to be a Medarda by his mother and a du Couteau by his father. It's okay if you don't want to do it that way. As part of two very prestigious families, the reader has a mansion that is TOO gigantic and, of course, elegant. Basically, my request is this: the reader shows his partner his large mansion for the first time. PD 1: For obvious reasons, if the reader has Medarda blood, Mel cannot be introduced here, it would be incest, basically. PD 2: My instinct yells at me that, if you left her, Jinx would do graffiti with her symbol, or put something characteristic of her all over your house. And even sometimes writing: JINX WAZ HERE. Idk, it's just an idea I had.

Arcane Women x Du Conteau- Medarda! Reader- Showing them Your Gigantic Mansion

Warnings ⚠️: reader is rich, Jinx being Jinx, Reader is part of the Du Couteau and Medarda families, fluff.

Characters: Vi, Jinx, caitlyn, sevika.

Summary: The reader shows the arcane woman her mansion/home.

-Vi

●"Damn.. You livin' like this?" Vi is absolutely floored the moment she steps onto your estate. The sheer size, the towering gates, the intricate architecture - everything screams wealth and power. She whistles, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she glances around. "I knew you were loaded, but this is like the next level." She pretends to act casual, but deep down, she feels a little out of place.

●She grew up in the Undercity, in tiny apartments and makeshift homes - this? This is something out of a dream. She can't help but admire how effortlessly you walk through the halls like you own the world. At some point, she plops down on a ridiculously plush couch and just smirks at you. "I might never leave, y'know."

-Caitlyn

●"This is... exquisite." Unlike Vi, Caitlyn doest gawk - she's from a wealthy Piltover family herself, but even her estate doesn't compare to this level of grandeur. She admires the craftsmanship, refined decor, and the regal atmosphere that surrounds everything. "Your family truly spares no expense," she murmurs, trailing her fingers along the polished wood of the staircase railing.

●She asks about the history behind some of the paintings and antiques, genuinely fascinated by how your lineage connects to both Noxus and Piltover. She's the perfect guess - never touching anything without permission, always polite. That is until she sees Jinx's graffiti defiling one of the pristine walls. Her eye twitches. "She's been here? hasn't she?"

-Jinx

●"Hahaha! Look at all this fancy crap!" Jinx is way too entertained by your massive mansion. The moment she steps in, she's everywhere - running through the hallways, sliding down banisters, jumping on expensive furniture. "How the hell do you not get lost in this place?!" And, of course, she leaves her mark. She pulls out a can of spray paint and, without hesitation, starts tagging walls with neon blue graffiti. 'JINX WAZ HERE.' There's even a doodle of her face sticking its tongue out.

● No surface is safe. Chandeliers? She'll hang from them, Priceless statues? Might add a mustache. Your family's giant portrait? Yeah, she just drew a monocle and devil horns on your dad. You knew this would happen, but she's having way too much fun for you to stop her.

-Sevika

●"Tch. Fancy." Sevika is hard to impress, but even she raises an eyebrow as she steps inside your enormous mansion. She's used to the gritty, industrial atmosphere of Zau - dull metal, rusted pipes, dim lights. This? This is luxury on a whole different level. She takes a slow drag from her cigar, glancing around the towering ceilings and polished marble floors. "Damn. You weren't kidding when you said you had money."

●She strolls through the halls at a lazy pace, her heavy boots making a stark contrast against the pristine, polished floors. She's not the type to marvel at wealth, but she does appreciate good craftsmanship. Running a hand along the intricate banisters, she scoffs. "Bet this place could fit half of Zaun in it." There's a slight edge to her voice- part amusement, part resentment.

● She's seen too many people struggle while rich live like this, but... you? You're different. She can tolerate it because it's you. Eventually, she makes herself at home in the grand living room, sprawling across one of the ridiculously expensive couches like she owns the place. "You got any whisky in this oversized palace of yours?" And, of course, she notices Jinx's graffiti the moment she glances at the walls. Her eye twitches. "That little menace was here, wasn't she?" She exhales a slow breath, rubbing her temple. "I swear, I leave her alone for one damn second..." Sevika's tempted to go hunting jinx down for ruining the mansion's aesthetic, but part of her smirks. Figures.

●She leans back, exhaling smoke as she looks at you. "Guess you're stuck with me coming over more often. Someone's gotta make sure your mansion doesn't turn into Jinx's personal canvas."

[dangerpronebuddie]

Several Sentences Sunday!!

Tagged by the lovely @spotsandsocks @tizniz who shared AMAZING words y'all should show some love!! 🩷🩷

Tanis is holding me to this, and y'all are free to join in. I am bound and determined to finish the paranoia fic by this time next week. I'm working out the kinks at the moment, and I have one or two scenes to add, but we're close!!

"Sorry to have to cut this short," Buck says, not sorry at all, and tugs Eddie away from Allen. Eddie turns his head to Buck, using his peripheral vision to see if Allen gave up. He stands in the parking lot, scowling at them. “He's watching us,” Eddie whispers. He makes sure to smile like he said something flirty. Buck guides them to the passenger side of his Jeep. “Go with it,” he mutters as he easily spins and presses Eddie against the door. Eddie's breath hitches as his back hits the door. Buck smiles, almost smirks, something in his eyes Eddie hasn't seen since a late night in Buck's kitchen. His eyes dart somewhere behind them and his brows twitch into a frown. He smooths out the expression into that smirk again. “Do you trust me?” he whispers. “What kind of question is that?” Eddie drawls, way too fond. Buck raises an eyebrow, almost admonishingly. He reaches up and cups Eddie’s cheek. His thumb sweeps across Eddie's lower lip and Eddie shudders. He can't look away from Buck. Doesn't ever want to. “Do you trust me with you?” Buck whispers.

As always please let me know if you want to be added/ removed:

@lover-of-mine @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus

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@lunarspark-cos @idealuk @slowlyfoggydestiny @mourningeddiesfagstache @playinginthunderstorms @elvensorceress

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@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @gnoeltop @keynb @cassi-brooks @-syrup-sue @punkrock00 @shannonhutchins @aroqueerfandoms @unlifeira @marissaleec @kissyboytroye

[amomentsescape]

Can you do slashers with there lover being neurodivergent (adhd, add, autistic) and how they would act around them?

Slashers with Neurodivergent! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I tried to not get too into specifics since I wanted this to be applicable to anyone on the neurodivergence spectrum. I hope you enjoy!

Freddy Krueger

Let's be honest, Freddy is a walking sensory nightmare

Loud, cackling voice

Rough, scarred skin

Constantly covered in the scent of blood and death

He's not exactly the most calm type of person to be around

However, he tries his best to be understanding for you (surprisingly)

He'll fill the room with your favorite scent

If things are too loud, he'll muffle the sound and replace it with your favorite song

And any time you need a break from your day-to-day life, he'll be there at night, helping you into his world

He knows what it's like to feel a little different, so he wants to try and make things as comfortable as possible for you

Michael Myers

If social interactions aren't your forte, you're in luck

The only "socializing" Michael wants to do involves stabbing, which he never forces you into

So the majority of your time is spent at home, doing whatever you want away from the loud sounds and bustling lives of other people

If you're more on the energetic side, then this might be a little tough for you

Michael isn't really known to be excitable

Or really having any desire of "fun"

But if you're bouncing off the walls enough, he'll eventually give in

Anything to get you to calm down

Just don't expect him to join in on any of the fun

He'll just stand there stiffly, watching you do whatever it is you wanted

Jason Voorhees

He loves everything about you and wouldn't change anything

Jason had also struggled with similar things as you, so he completely understands

Socializing isn't his thing, so he won't ever put you in those types of situations

But if you want to get out of the forest for a bit, he'll happily tag along as your protector

If certain textures or visuals trigger you, he's throwing them out the window (literally)

And he's also really good at picking up on your bodily cues when words fail you

He understands you a lot better than others have in the past, and he always makes it a point to learn as much as he can about you

He doesn't see you as anything different, he just sees you

Thomas Hewitt

He grew up dealing with his own triggers and being confused why certain things bothered him more than the rest of his family

So meeting you has honestly helped him learn more about himself

Once you sit down and explain everything to him, something in him just clicks

He honestly sees it as destiny now

You're just like him; you two were made for each other

And because of his own personal experiences, he's able to understand and listen to you very easily

If anything is upsetting or triggering you, he's quick to help you immediately

Will drop everything the moment you show the slightest discomfort

And if anything is ever bothering him, you're the first and only person he'll go to

You understand him better than anyone in his family ever did

Bubba Sawyer

He honestly has no idea what's going on until his mother explains it to him a little better

After that, all you have to do is give him a certain look, and he immediately knows

He'll quiet down right away when he can tell he's being too loud

And if he's overstimulating you with his giant hugs and smothering kisses, he'll quickly pull back and sit stiffly next to you

He has a decent understanding of what triggers you, he just has a hard time with thinking about his actions beforehand

He's just used to being so impulsive all the time

So it's going to take a while for him to get used to everything, but he'll happily do it for you

He doesn't think any differently of you either

This is just you, and he wants to be your biggest supporter

Brahms Heelshire

He can tell things are a little different with you compared to the "nannies" he's had in the past

It's harder for you to stay on track, your mind bouncing from one thing to the next despite the list in front of you

And you always seem to keep the music quieter around the house, the kitchen a bit tidier than necessary, and the lights turned low most of the day

He doesn't ever end up questioning you about it

He really has no reason to feel any certain way about how you act

You take care of him and the home better than anyone else in the past

And he can tell your curiosity of the large manor and the differing peace and quiet you're receiving here is putting you in a state of ease

Which is good, since this is your new home

Norman Bates

Norman grew up feeling a little different from other people too

And it's not just because he's a murderer

He likes to do things a certain way, and you're just about the only one he trusts to do them too

He doesn't like being in larger gatherings or loud areas, so he won't ever force you into those

And as someone with a short social battery, he can almost immediately tell when yours is drained

The moment he sees the tilt of your head or your drooping eyes, he's throwing you into bed with a warm blanket, a mug of tea, and your favorite book

And if you're ever struggling to focus or silence the thoughts booming around in your head, he'll sit beside you and read to you

Somehow, his voice always manages to replace the ones yelling at you in your mind

He's basically "calm" in human form

Billy Loomis

He's not the most empathetic with everything since he doesn't fully understand what you're going through

But he knows certain things bother you, and he gets incredibly uncomfortable if you're also uncomfortable

Thankfully, he's not big into crazy social situations or loud areas

He prefers the peace and quiet most of the time

And he's clean too, always washing up right after one of his "excursions"

And although not the most sympathetic, he's observant

If a certain situation made you uncomfortable, he won't put you in it ever again

If someone said something rude about you acting "differently," they'll be dead before the next morning

He's protective over you

Stu Macher

You can't convince me that Stu isn't also neurodivergent

His whole personality screams ADHD

So if you struggle with maintaining attention on something or becoming easily hyper-fixated, Stu is probably going to make this much worse for you

He can't help it, because he has a pretty good understanding of you

However, if certain sensory experiences are tough for you, he'll do his best to calm himself down

He wants to be your security blanket, not a trigger

So if he has to talk more softly, move more slowly, and just relax at home with you instead of going to some crazy party, he will

A casual movie night at home is just fine for him, it doesn't even have to be scary!

Your company is honestly the most important thing to him

Vincent Sinclair

He can relate to you in more ways than one, and he's grown to learn more about what to do whenever things get tough

He's accumulated and made his own sensory blankets and fidget toys which he happily shares with you

He also has his own tips for whenever you have trouble focusing or keeping your thoughts at bay

And if there's anything that differs between you two, he'll gladly take a seat and listen to your perspective with how you feel

Having a brother like Bo has made him feel incredibly reclusive growing up

You're the first person to make him feel like he isn't alone

So whatever he can do to show you some normalcy, he's going to do

No matter the cost

Bo Sinclair

He knows the traits of Vincent all too well to not notice the similarities in you

Which is a bit of a shame considering him and his brother are almost polar opposites of each other

Bo wants to be in the spotlight, socializing and causing a ruckus in any late night establishment he can find

He likes excitement, unpredictability, and chaos

His idea of relaxing is your idea of Hell, unfortunately

There are thankfully days that Bo would rather just hang on the couch with a beer in hand by your side

But these days aren't super common

And he unfortunately has trouble sympathizing with you whenever you feel overwhelmed or upset by something

He tries, and he may even talk to Vincent a bit if he's desperate

As long as you don't prevent him from going out and acting however he pleases, he won't have a problem with your differences

[sillygoofyqueer]

I know that this is going to get weird but bear with me. Also this isn't meant to be as horny as it might seem.

I think that PIDW Logic™️ would give the middle finger to the whole point of bird demons having genders in the first place and make all bird demons lay unfertilised eggs about once a month, unless they get fertilised while still in the bird demon of course.

Crowyuan would be no different even if he's the heavenly demon variety.

I think Binghe would be jealous of Crowyuan's eggs.

I think Bingge might cook them if Xin Mo got to him.

Oh Binghe would be SO normal if he could naturally have children with Crowyuan.

And imagine how shocked and kind of horrified one of his followers/Binghe/the peak lords/the disciples would be if they were to find (one of) his nests with AN EGG in it. There isn't a baby in it or anything but STILL.

The crow family knows what's up but they still get a little surprise every time because SY doesn't bloody tell them when it's That Time Of The Month: Bird Demon Edition.

I am so so sorry the mpreg part of my brain leaked a bit into the Crowyuan part of my brain.

Henlo, Anon! Thank you for the ask, I very much appreciate it. I need to preface this with the fact that I read this ask, thought "huh, this doesn't feel very horny to me!" and then showed it to one of my mutuals as a sort of second opinion if you will, and they just said 'damn, egg layer Yuan' and that sort of put it in perspective for me. Despite that, I still don't think it's very horny, so either I'm just desensitised to it all, or this isn't horny! ANYWAY, if you want mpreg, we can literally have mpreg. Crowyuan now has mpreg. I don't know if there's a secret group of people who have been praying for this moment, but if there is, you can now rest. Put down the blackmail plans. We're going to look at Original Crowyuan, then Crowyuan on Cang Qiong but with the mpreg lens because that's FUN. (Also jiuyuan) ((To that one irl friend, my bestie booboo bear, you do NOT fucking see this. You never did. Dear GOD, YOU FUCKING DIDN'T.)) Original Crowyuan usually has his unfertilised eggs in his crow home, surprising his family at first but then they learn how to track his...'cycle' if you will, so they aren't caught off guard if there's a random egg in his nest. However, when he starts spending more time at Bingge's castle, it's a constant fucken wrestling match over eating the unfertilised eggs. It's like Crowyuan being like "DROP IT!! DROP THAT EGG!" and Bingge is holding it above his head and being like "I'M GOING TO MAKE SCRAMBLED EGGS AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME!! IT'S A WASTE!" However, I like to think that Bingge is also like "this egg could be fertilised. This could be my child. But noooo, it's devoid of a baby, so I'm going to fucking eat this." Dude I forgot the tag for the Crowyuan that's just chilling on Cang Qiong, but he's obviously just hanging around Cang Qiong and making nests on most of the peaks, so he does just have unfertilised eggs lying around. I imagine that Shen Jiu is the first to find out because (as stated in a previous post, I think) he's got disciples/a record on every single nest on Cang Qiong, so he sees this fucking egg just...lying around in one of the nests and is like "Oh. My God." and then like well what the fuck would he do with this? His pretty crow demon is going to be a mother! He must not let any of the bastard peak lords learn about this, 'lest they try and 'take responsibility' and step up to be a father to his demon's children, so HE must do it first. (When Crowyuan learns of this, he feels so bad because Shen Jiu is so determined about it, so he has to like...actually have a child! Cue mpreg.)

[the-awful-falafel]

Decided to share a megapost of my Fake Peppino relationship / character dynamic headcanons! Not comprehensive at all but should give a rough outline of my personal interpretation of things at least

PEPPINO:

Peppino and Fake Peppino's relationship is... deeply complicated lol

It's the focus of my brainrot (and utterly central to how I see Fake Peppino's postgame character development happening) so I won't quite get into all the progression and nuances here, but if I had to loosely summarize it, I'd say it's kind of a platonic slowburn "weird uncomfortable doppelganger housemate/employee" + enemies-to-trucies-to-uneasy-friendship situation. Lots of black comedy and ominous horror stuff too

More will be explained / shown off over time, hopefully!

GUSTAVO:

Gustavo generally seems tolerant or even oblivious to Fake Peppino's weirdness, although not to a Noisette extent

He doesn't get caught up in paranoia around Fake Peppino like Peppino does, although the odd behavior and comments the clone sometimes makes can be slightly unsettling

Gustavo casually calls Fake Peppino "Peppino" to be respectful (something that agitates real Peppino) and occasionally tries to encourage Peppino to do the same

Gustavo acts relatively friendly and encouraging to Fake Peppino-- believing in good faith that most of his behavior is harmlessly weird and that, if he's anything like the real Peppino, he could use a friend-- but he often feels out of his depth interacting with him for too long, so in practice it's more of a "cordial acquaintances" situation

Fake Peppino sees Gustavo as a nice friend/fellow chef, first as an extension of Peppino's relationship with him and then later more genuinely

Fake Peppino strongly appreciates Gustavo's penchant for adventure, and will often tag along Gustavo's adventures without asking and without warning when he's in the mood to forage for new ingredients or simply observe

BRICK:

Brick does not like Fake Peppino and she gets a bad vibe from him

Fake Peppino thinks the big rat looks delicious but politely holds off because he assumes that Gustavo is saving all that meat for himself

PEPPERMAN:

Pepperman is mostly face-blind towards humans and cannot tell Peppino and Fake Peppino apart unless they're side by side, and only then just barely

Pepperman somewhat admires the surrealism and ethical quandaries of Fake Peppino's existence, and rambles about it to him whenever he's around

Fake Peppino thinks Pepperman talks way too much and too fancily, and therefore tunes out at least 90% of what the pepper says

Fake Peppino has secretly stolen / borrowed paint from Pepperman before, and once or twice he brought over his weird Peppino caricature doodles to show him and get "art advice"

Fake Peppino has contemplated how Pepperman is an impressively big pepper, but there's no shortage of peppers back at the pizzeria, plus the smell of paint and ego kinda gets in the way

Fake Peppino is very pleased whenever Pepperman confuses him with Peppino

THE VIGILANTE:

Vigilante has only met Fake Peppino a handful of times and doesn't have a lot of knowledge of him or a strong opinion on him, thinking that he seems strange but friendly enough

Later on, Vigilante's opinion skews more pessimistic and he views Fake Peppino's creation as another one of Pizzahead's crimes that he must be held accountable for

Fake Peppino thinks the "cowboy cheese" is nice and helpful for giving him directions in the tower at one point, even though he finds his arsenal of guns and gruff demeanor slightly off-putting

Vigilante is the most likely of the bosses to go missing if there's a cheese supply shortage

Vigilante is also the most likely of the bosses to teach Fake Peppino what a flamethrower is

THE NOISE:

Noise finds Fake Peppino hilarious, seeing him as a total freakshow that mocks Peppino just by existing and being generally absurd

Noise would occasionally visit Fake Peppino in the tower alongside Noisette, mostly to just gawk and encourage the weirdo to do food crimes

Because of this, Noise also doesn't take Fake Peppino seriously-- an approach that has backfired on him a couple times, although he stubbornly refuses to learn. (Noise is good at using intimidation and startling loud noises in a pinch, but it never scares off Fake Peppino permanently)

Noise, when possible, likes to encourage Fake Peppino's general chaos and torment of Peppino, although it's just as likely to get thrown back in his face

Fake Peppino generally likes Noise because he sees him as one of his first regular customers alongside Noisette

However, Fake Peppino doesn't like how evasive Noise is at actually eating the complicated "pizzas" he orders, so he's increasingly determined to get Noise to eat one of his pizzas someday, even if it requires coercive methods

Fake Peppino can be unexpectedly passive-aggressive towards Noise when Noise is being more of a rude asshole than usual, although it's more in a playfully antagonistic sort of way... maybe

Fake Peppino was very confused by the whole NTV movie situation and went off-script a little too much for Noise's liking, but Fake Peppino still went along with it and got paid via expensive pizza ingredients afterwards (money was not enticing enough for him, for some reason)

NOISETTE

Noisette sees Fake Peppino as a funny guy and close friend, sharing both a goofiness and love for making dubiously edible food, and she is thoroughly immune to / oblivious of the horrors

She befriended him back in the tower via getting lost and obliviously stumbling into Peppino's Pizza 2, and her ditzy friendliness, utter lack of fear or acknowledgement of red flags, and promise to visit again led to a much more positive (and safer) interaction than all the previous customers had

Noisette's repeat visits were both because she genuinely found his pizzas "interesting" (... despite the fact they kept giving her violent short-term food poisoning, she assumed it was part of the Italian food experience and she thinks it's important to encourage his creativity) and because she was worried he was lonely, working so hard in his secluded restaurant all the time

Noisette always calls Fake Peppino "Peppino" and wholeheartedly affirms his identity

Noisette's overt tolerance and obliviousness of the horrors is not always a good thing and can lead to her enabling Fake Peppino's more dangerous and maladaptive behavior

Fake Peppino sees Noisette as his first and favorite regular customer, and he'd consider her his first friend too, although the lines between friend and customer are very blurry in Fake Peppino's mind

Fake Peppino visits Noisette on rare occasions (rather than the more common other way around), both because he enjoys her company and because he thinks studying her likes/dislikes up close and integrating them into his pizzas is key to maintaining her patronage

Fake Peppino will play party games and board games with Noisette and Noise when she offers, but he's kinda inattentive and doesn't follow the rules (it's okay because half of the rules Noisette makes up / doesn't care about either, and Noise cheats)

GEROME:

Gerome doesn't interact with Fake Peppino much, and when he does, he mostly just regards him with either vague interest or pity

Gerome is aware of the cloning lab and Fake Peppino's true nature/purpose, and has had a lot of experience with his brother's clones-- as a result, Gerome is pessimistic about the Fake Peppino's ability or willingness to change from what he is

Fake Peppino sees Gerome as the small stone man who sleeps all the time, and is interested by his janitorial work, but otherwise doesn't have much of an opinion on him either

PILLAR JOHN

John regards Fake Peppino with a similar sort of pity as Gerome does, although it mostly leads to him expressing sympathy and solidarity towards Peppino over both of them being cloned by Pizzahead and having awkward interactions with said clones after the tower collapsed

Fake Peppino doesn't really know John, but he was warned extensively to never touch the pillars holding up each level gate, no matter how tempting it may be to kick one over

Fake Peppino still follows this rule after the events of the game, even though this pillar is now walking around, but his curiosity will probably get the best of him one of these days

PIZZAFACE

Pizzaface has no opinion on Fake Peppino because he's a (secret) robot/mech whose autopilot AI is quite basic and limited-- he's obedient/loyal to Pizzahead and nobody else

Fake Peppino doesn't understand why you would make a pizza that isn't for eating

PIZZAHEAD

Pizzahead is directly responsible for creating Fake Peppino along with all the other clones, and even though the results didn't match his original "Better Peppino" design concept 1:1, he doesn't care and doesn't see it as a failure at all-- he thinks it's much funnier and more entertaining this way

Pizzahead doesn't really perceive Fake Peppino as a person or sapient entity deserving respect -- he sees Fake Peppino more like a fun new custom-built toy, guard monster, and walking punchline of a joke at Peppino's expense, all rolled into one

Pizzahead doesn't openly mistreat Fake Peppino, necessarily-- he's goofy and irreverent towards him for the most part, just like how he acts towards most other people-- but he certainly exploits and manipulates certain aspects of Fake Peppino's behavior for his own amusement, and saw leaving Fake Peppino on the fourth floor with minimal safeguards as the funniest possible thing to do with him. Look and watch the weird freak go! Wooooo!

Pizzahead is very affirming and encouraging of Fake Peppino believing himself to be really Peppino, mostly to better exploit/manipulate his behavior and to better egg on his established aggression towards "other Peppinos" in preparation for him being sicced on the real Peppino

Pizzahead's inability to take anything seriously extends to even the most bizarre, horrific, and dangerous of his creations, in a way that would probably backfire if it weren't for his power and cartoonish immunity

Pizzahead probably would have gotten bored of and abandoned Fake Peppino at some point if Peppino hadn't destroyed the tower

After the events of the game, Pizzahead is surprised by Fake Peppino's reduced aggression towards Peppino and has attempted to sneakily exploit Fake Peppino's behavior once more to see if he can generate any more funny conflict, but it's not very effective as Fake Peppino has already formed his own ambiguous goals and doesn't really have a reason to listen to Pizzahead anymore-- although he still cheerfully takes the "advice" into consideration

Fake Peppino doesn't know that Pizzahead is responsible for his existence, nor is he aware he was even created in the first place. (Fake Peppino would not believe Pizzahead if he told him, either)

Fake Peppino likes and respects Pizzahead as the tower's owner who pulled him out of the laboratory and gifted him important advice and a restaurant free of charge, but Fake Peppino is otherwise somewhat ambivalent and isn't even particularly loyal to the pizza, instead being obsessed with working the restaurant and working hard at being Peppino

Fake Peppino doesn't quite like Pizzahead's tendency to cartoon-logic grab and deposit him in new locations at random, as he (usually) dislikes being grabbed or touched and Pizzahead doesn't have much regard for his personal space, but it thankfully doesn't happen often enough for it to be a major concern, just an uneasy irritation

Fake Peppino is very curious about what Pizzahead's pizza head tastes like and has attempted to bite it off twice, to no success and Pizzahead barely acknowledging it aside from casually clamping Fake Peppino's jaws shut / sidestepping it and causing Fake Peppino to faceplant

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Advertising is such a weird hellscape in such a unique way because I can filter for pretty much any content I want to avoid on most websites; yeah I might see it once or twice but I can block people, I can blacklist tags, there are trigger warnings I could potentially look up, or I could just stop reading/watching a thing if I find it's hurting my physche.

But adverts? No way. There's this one pets at home advert I hate where they show a hamster having a surgery and play 'i would do anything for love' in the background. When I'm very anxious I get really worried that I'm not doing enough to keep my cat Morri happy and healthy, and I found when I was in a dark headspace that advert would actively make me anxious about her wellbeing where I wouldn't otherwise be. But YouTube and Instagram KNOW I have a cat through various data they've gathered about me (presumably) so they aren't going to stop showing me that advert. They WANT me to see this unskipable advert because this anxious reaction is what they WANT in me so I buy more. To a lesser extent Instagram ads are constantly accusing me of being a bad pet owner because of what I feed my cat, or because of what toys she does/doesn't have etc. and it's so manipulative but there's no offence switch! I can't say no! I can't filter this content this content is not only unfilterable but it's designed to be so so I feel anxious so I buy their products.

And then on Friday, I played the lottery. I don't really do that often but I thought it would be fun to get me and my partner a ticket for valentine's day; it was! We talked about where we'd buy our dream home and what we'd get with the money and it was a nice little fantasy and then we won 4.50 and that was a laugh too. But since I created my lotto account literally on Friday I've noticed that my adverts on YouTube are for gambling sites; the lottery or otherwise. Like. These ads actively want to prey on this thing I just did and make it into a habit so they can make money off me and once again I CANT OPT OUT. Gambling can ruin lives, and I just find it so disgusting that they know this and can try and leverage that against someone they seem to know just did gambling for the first time or whatever.

Honestly? I don't really mind adverts on YouTube videos and shit when they're just like 'hey this hoover is great' or 'buy these cool Pokémon cards'. Id rather not be advertised to at all hours of the day but fine, I'll wait the 5 seconds to skip those whatever. But the way adverts are geared these days to exploit our habits and our anxieties to make money off of us and there's NO WAY TO OPT OUT OR BLACKLIST MOST ADS is literally despicable and should be illegal I'm not kidding

[urinarythreatinfection]

No one is more annoying than you tagging your hate. Seeing how you guys act, only Shuggy fans will get my support and other Shanks ships get nothing but my hate. Shuggy fans are truly the only tolerable Shanks shippers. The rest of you need to get your act together or find something else to do because you don’t even understand the story or the characters.

I literally wrote this whole thing about the problems with Shuggy but i got distracted and accidentally closed the app so im just gonna say if you really think that I'm not understanding the point or the story or the characters then you need to reread/rewatch one piece because everything Oda has put out has not been shy or subtle in showing that Buggy is toxic. Buggy stomped and stabbed Luffy's treasure, tried killing him multiple times, then in impel down Luffy forgave and struck a deal with him and Buggy tried to fuck him over again despite acknowledging himself through inner dialogue that Luffy is incredibly trusting and only a monster would betray him, and then shamelessly trying to betray him.

The whole point of his character in Impel down/Marineford is that Buggy is horrible and his karma is that he's forced to help in order to save his own ass since at every corner he's ready to betray, just like Shanks and the Roger Pirates. Shanks tried to be brotherly friends, Buggy felt inferior so he constantly picked fights, The Roger pirates raise Buggy with love, Buggy tries to steal a treasure map and devil fruit so that he can sell the fruit off and go find the treasure for himself and blames Shanks despite the reason Shanks approaches him is to check on Buggy, but Buggy still blamed Shanks despite it being his choice to be an idiot and stuff the fruit in his mouth to hide it while letting go of the map. When the Roger crew disbanded and Roger died Buggy made it about him. He said he was willing to give up "everything" for Shanks or whatever and then Shanks betrayed him and thats the whole reason why Shuggy lovers coddle Buggy and demonize Shanks but Shanks also sacrificed everything basically. He stayed behind for Buggy when Buggy was sick and missed the last of the adventures with his father figure and being able to go to the last island. Shanks sacrifices everything. Buggy was mean to Shanks even before the "betrayal" which was just Shanks saying he didn't want to go for the One Piece.

Then he blames everything on Shanks and leaves Shanks at his most vulnerable time since as the story goes on we're learning more and more that clearly something traumatizing and burdening happened to Shanks that made him give up the One Piece at that time. It was his dream too. He was always so bright and happy and hopeful and he always tried his best yet Buggy was the one who actually betrayed Shanks, running away like a coward because of his inferiority complex when Shanks was doing everything in his power to lift Buggy up. But Buggy doesn't want to be lifted up. No matter how much Shanks tried Buggy always would rather drag Shanks down with him. Now Shanks is alone, he had to go through everything alone and clearly is not okay mentally because of it from his random bouts of melacholy and burden. He longs for some sort of companion but has nothing because Buggy left and he didn't give chase, sacrificing his want for a friend in order to let Buggy leave since Shanks felt that Buggy really must hate him and would be happier leaving, he sacrificed his dominant arm to save Luffy, severely weakening himself, gave what he had left of Roger to Luffy in order to cheer the boy up, another sacrifice. Then you'd think "oh he still has his daughter" and you'd be right, he took care of her when he found her in the chest, sacrificing his youth to take care of a baby on the ship, but he had to leave her. He made himself look like the bad guy to leave her, losing the last bit of compassion in his life.

He took it hard too, Oda drew in a little sbs thing im pretty sure of Shanks despairing over it. Then, canonically, Luffy is Shanks's last hope, for everything. Shanks doesn't have a companion, no little daughter to cheer him up, no lover because he likely doesn't want to bring them into what he has on his shoulders, nothing. Yet Buggy tried to kill that hope, multiple times. And only helped Shanks with Luffy when Shanks had to trick him into it (oh the horror what a devil that redhead/s). Shanks is just a broken Luffy, he was bright and sunny and had hopes but from likely learning about the prophecy or whatever that he was not going to be JoyBoy, so he gave up his dream for the world. All of this. All of these terrible things Shanks has gone through for everyone and everything and how Buggy tries to destroy every single one of it and somehow Shuggy shipper STILL manage to coddle Buggy and treat him like some cute tsundere that was wronged by Shanks and Shanks is the one that needs to chase after Buggy because evil Shanks betrayed him. That Shanks is the stupid longing ex husband that needs his wife back and that he messrd up when Buggy is a terrible friend at the VERY best and an abusive one at worst. That is why i "hate" Shuggy. I don't tag my hate post as Shuggy because i'm some sort of ragebaiter or slanderer trying to take away the happiness that is Shuggy its because I need Shuggy people to realize that the way they portray the ship is so utterly unfair to Shanks. The story goes on and on and you find out more and more about how Shanks sacrificed so much yet you're telling ME that i "don't even understand the story and characters" like the whole dynamic of Buggy isn't that he's horrible and its funny to see him get karma while somehow surviving and that Shanks's role is to be the sacrificial lamb to everything while having no one to take atleast some of the burden off.

Shuggy people and the way they portray it is toxic. Its not just they treat Shanks like the longing ex husband for the comedy, every artwork and fic and story i've seen its always Buggy needing to be apologized to and they're serious in that being the good and what should happen option and not, i don't know, the literal bad guy abusive person being the one to go "oh shit i need to change my ways and I have to apologize and help the friend I abandoned". No its always just adding more shit to Shanks's already about to break apart plate. It's maddening seeing it. It has so much potential to be an amazing ship that can explore the relationship between someone that used to be abusive learning that they arent the victim and atoning while finding love in eachother's comfort but instead its just victim blaming 101. Shanks could end up fucking dying horribly in One Piece while Buggy watches and goes "serves you right" and somehow Shuggy lovers would go "oh nonono its actually just him being a cute tsundere and look he feels bad deep inside so its all forgived and Shanks just dies ig idk anyway poor Buggy." There is so much wrong with the ship and how its treated that all that shit about shuggy haters trying to debunk it using some shitty half assed excuse like its "emotional incest" when theres so many other problems is if i looked at a history book and was like "Yeah the colonizers of the America were definitely wrong because their wigs were weird" like thats completely insignificant! Shuggy and the way its treated as if Buggy is the wronged one and always the loved and longed after while he has his poor hurt heart closed off from years of trauma like abandoning his friend and pillaging and killing innocent civilians while using their wealth to flaunt and pretend like he's big and strong.

Shuggy should not be a fix it via victim blaming Shanks and treating him like some dumb dog that loves Buggy so much it should be using the fact that Buggy has an inferiority complex and that he longs to be in the spotlight that he slowly learns that theres a reason why he's at the bottom. That is my issue. I'm not ignoring the story i am looking st the story with everything i possibly can because I even used to be kinda alrighy with Shuggy. It is literally now that we are learning more about Shanks and that im rereading One piece and remembering how horrible Buggy is that I'm realizing how horribly its treated. I mean look I started this off that I would try and summarize it but its so hard to summarize when theres so much wrong. I'm okay with shipping, i really am, but the ship is toxic, and the "fluffy" stuff is even toxic because its just making Shanks's misery worse. I need yall to realize that. This is not mindless hate.

[nakylvr]

megan x tmasc reader smut but reader has a tdick?

as someone who doesn't have much bottom dysphoria this is how i went about this req. please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable 🫡.

and a reminder, any transphobia on this blog will get you blocked immediately. if you don't like it, don't read. don't harass me over it.

FADING INTO YOU

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, established relationship, transmasc!reader, service top!megan, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving)

minors dni

laying on the bed in your room, you're scrolling through instagram on your phone with megan laying beside you, some show playing on the tv quietly while you both sit in a comfortable silence. her head rests on your shoulder as she looks at the tv, not really paying attention to what was actually playing though. she shifts lightly, lifting her head from your shoulder to look at you.

"yn?" she says softly.

looking away from your phone, you glance over at her. "yeah?"

"can i ask you something?" she asks hesitantly.

you put your phone down to give her your full attention, nodding your head. "yeah, what's up?" you can hear the hesitation in her voice and it makes you slightly worried.

"would you let me...try and make you feel good?" her voice is quiet, her hand resting on your chest as she sits up slightly.

"what?" you let out, eyes widening slightly. you swore you felt your heart stop for a second, not believing the words coming from her mouth. "you mean– i don't– i don't know, meg. i've never really–"

"please?" megan interrupts. "don't lie and say you don't try and relieve yourself when i'm not around, i've heard you before. please let me try? you can just tell me what you want me to do."

your face heats up at her words, your mouth feeling dry as you try to respond. "i mean..." seeing the expression on her face tells you that she's serious, and genuinely wanting to help you out. you slowly nod your head, "yeah, yeah, okay."

megan's face lights up when you answer, her hand cradling your face as she kisses you deeply. she moves so she's straddling you, your hands instantly going to her waist as the kiss that starts out slow changes. her lips move fast against yours, teeth biting gently at your bottom lip as you feel her hands trail down your chest, nails scratching slightly leaving you sighing into the kiss. she pushes her tongue inside your mouth, a quiet groan coming from you at the action, closing your eyes.

pulling away to breathe, megan looks down at you, smiling at the flushed expression on your face. "what do you want me to do, baby?" she asks softly.

your breathing is already irregular, your heart beating out of your chest as you try to form a answer. "i-i don't know," you reply, your voice shaking slightly. "anything, please. i trust you."

"okay," she nods, a warm smile on her face at your response. both at how flustered you were already and the fact that you trust her enough to do this. "don't worry, baby. i'll make sure you feel good," she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

her fingers hook around the band of your sweatpants, looking at you to see any signs that you want to stop, before slowly pulling them down along with your boxers. your legs instinctively try to close, but she's quick to grab them and keep them open. she situates herself between your legs, lying on her stomach as her hands rest on your thighs.

"are you okay?" megan asks, looking up at you while her fingers draw little circles on your skin.

"y-yeah," you answer with a nod. "just nervous," you admit quietly, almost embarrassed.

"i know," megan says. "but, you trust me, right?"

"yes," you nod again.

"then just let me help you, okay?" she presses a few soft kisses on your thigh.

"okay."

pulling your legs further apart, megan starts leaving kisses up your thighs, occasionally biting down to leave a mark a few times. when her eyes finally meet with your center, she has to fight from the gasp in her throat from coming out as she sees your hardened tdick. you've told her about it before, but she's yet to actually see it in the moment when you would usually keep your boxers on while being intimate with her.

inching closer, she hesitantly gives a little kitten lick on it, causing you to gasp sharply, your hips bucking up. her hands grip your thighs a little tighter, keeping you from moving as she wraps her lips around it, sucking on it gently. a loud moan comes from you the second she starts sucking, your hand reaching for her hair to grab ahold of.

"f-fuck! oh my– oh my god!" you moan out, your fingers tangling in her hair.

megan looks up at you from her position, taking your reactions as good ones which has her starting to suck on it a little harder, her tongue experimentally licking up your folds, moaning into you at the taste of your slick. and judging by the way you moaned loudly, she figured she was starting off alright. her tongue swirls around your tdick, flicking over it a couple times feeling your hips jerk upward at the feeling.

"mngh, fuck!" you gasp, your eyes squeezing shut with your head falling back on the pillows. "m-more— shit!— please, please, baby."

hearing your words, one of megan's hands moves from your hip down between your thighs, her fingers dragging up and down your slick folds collecting the wetness before slowly slipping a finger in you. her eyes bore into you as your back arches off the bed from the intrusion, a little whine leaving your mouth while you squirm under her. she starts pumping her finger in and out of you at a slow speed, feeling how tight you were around her and not wanting to overwhelm or hurt you.

"oh my god!" you whine at the feeling, your voice cracking a bit. your fingers tangle in her hair, tugging on it gently at the immense amount of pleasure you were feeling.

carefully, megan pushes in another finger, feeling your walls clench around her tighter as more slick leaked from you, dripping down her palm and wrist as she slowly started to speed up. removing her mouth from you with a quiet pop, she looks up at you with big eyes. "does it feel good, baby?" she says, needing the validation that she was doing good.

"uh-huh!" you whine while nodding quickly. "s-so good— you're doing so g-good— fuck!" you gasp when she curls her fingers experimentally. "right there, right— oh my god!" your eyes roll to the back of your head when megan realizes and purposefully starts trying to hit the special spot inside of you, her long fingers reaching places you couldn't nearly reach whenever you tried to. you can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter, your breathing getting heavier with loud moans falling from your lips without any care. "mmnh i'm close, shit!"

a smile curls on megan's lips as she watches the sight in front of her. seeing you like this has her feeling a way that she didn't know how to control. she wanted to see you like this more. nothing but a babbling, whining, mess as you roll your hips against her hand with squelching noises echoing in the room. "you're doing so good for me, baby," she says sweetly, pressing kisses on your thigh. "go on and cum for me."

with one last curl of her fingers, you let out a long whine as your orgasm comes crashing over you, your legs shaking as you cum on her fingers. you breathe heavily with your eyes still closed, a quiet whimper coming from you as megan pulls her fingers out of you, feeling her gaze on you which makes your face heat up.

moving up your body, megan's hand cups your jaw, making you open your eyes and look at her with a fucked out expression on your face, exhaustion evident in your eyes. "you did so good, baby." she smiles at you, her thumb drawing small circles. "thank you for letting me help you."

"mm," you hum, nodding. "can we do that again soon, maybe?" you ask quietly.

"of course." she nods, her smile growing. "all you have to do is ask."

[ex-textura]

omg ty you for the tag 🥹 I've never done a writer tag game before. I've officially made it!

The last thing I wrote is the last fic I posted so this feels sort of like a cheap answer but:

Relic holds Emmrich's hand to his cheek, presses that cool dry palm against the ragged scar that tears up the whole right side of his face and breathes in deep that comforting Emmrich smell. And it doesn't hurt.

So here's a bonus from the second-to-last thing I was writing that I never finished

The list of things he finds attractive about Emmrich is embarrassingly long and he could have pulled from any of them but whatever he had said then, it might have been good enough because Emmrich looked distant for only a moment, a look passed over his face that Relic couldn't place and then, "May I show you something of the greater fade, here?"

I definitely can't tag that many people lmfao and I dunno who's active anymore so @schmooplesthesecond and @vitanithepure hit me!

Writing Game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for each word in the line.

Thanks @elspethdekarios for the tag! Uh...the last line I wrote is the lead up to something filthy in TSaTC so enjoy! It's a long one too (that's what she said):

His body jolted with a flick of her tongue across his nipple, he groaned as he watched her lower herself to her knees between his, he closed his eyes and sent every prayer he had to the Maker when he felt the slow drag of her tongue up the length of him

Uhhhh I do not think I can think of 50 people off the top of my head soooo I will tag a few and then everyone who sees this can consider themselves tagged. Also I'm sure you have probably been tagged before but consider this peer pressure.

Low pressure tags to: @sorceresssundries @orangekittyenergy @woundedsoul12 @lizziemajestic @kimberbohwrites