#it's fine it won't fit with the text

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Is blue talking to fell?

Blue: YEAH. HE'S MY FRIEND. Blue: SOMETIMES DEALING WITH DREAM AND INK CAN BE TOO MUCH, SO I GO HANG OUT WITH HIM. Blue: (PLEASE DON'T TELL THEM I SAID THAT)

Phone contact: vermillion bitch (/paff) vb (texting): running late srry bb Blue (texting): BB?? LIKE BABY BLUE?? vb (texting): yeah Blue (texting): THAT BETTER NOT BE WHAT I AM IN YOUR PHONE CONTACTS vb (texting): i would never Blue (texting): PERISH

[detransdamnation]

I often comfort myself with having built memories when things in my life come to a seeming or confirmed end... and yet come to think of it, ironic as it is for me to say, when I think of things outside of my own self-growth, I really don't think of what has come to an end anymore. My last "actual" friend group lasted about two years and I never could have imagined life without them—and yet here I am that same amount of time later plus one year more, doing just as fine as I did before I met them. Every once in a while, they will visit me in a brief flash... but generally speaking, they don't ever come up. Things which used to immediately bring them to mind have now returned back to their rightful place blending into everyday monotony. I can recall maybe one inside joke we used to have off the top of my head and that remembrance no longer comes in big belly laughs, but polite chuckles underneath my breath. And it's not that it's any less funnier. It's just that I've had so many more experiences that make me laugh so much harder.

And that those specific memories are scarce and their retrievals even fewer and their emotions having changed could not ever discount what we used to have. It just goes to show how "this, too, shall pass" need still apply to the good—and the fact the good shall pass does not make inherent bad. It makes life. And maybe... maybe we will be as fine as we were before that good came and went.

[whumperless-whump-event]

WHUMPERLESS WHUMP EVENT 2025

Welcome back to the Whumperless Whump Event of July, where we celebrate the situational and environmental side of our community via beating the shit out of our blorbos!

FAQ and plain text prompts under the cut!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How are the prompts divided?

Q: Where can I find the prompts list?

A: @whumperless-whump-event on Tumblr.

A: The title is a “theme” for the day, followed by two tropes and a dialog prompt.

A: Absolutely.

Q: Can I use the title as a prompt?

A: Not at all.

Q: Do I have to use all of the prompts?

Q: Can I use all of the prompts?

A: Absolutely. If it's fun, go for it--don't feel pressured to finish them all, but do follow what's inspiring you.

Q: If I'm writing a chronological story, can I swap the days to make it fit the timeline?

A: Yes. Just make sure you tag each piece with the prompt and day you're filling.

Q: Can I have early or late entries?

A: Yes. Early and late entries will not be reblogged to the event account, though.

Q: Is there an Ao3 collection?

A: Yes! This year's collection can be found here, or through searching whumperless_whump_event_july2025. Please remember to submit this year's prompts to the 2025 collection and NOT the 2024 one!

Q: Can I write NSFW?

A: You absolutely can, but the event blog will not reblog any prompt fill rated Explicit. Please ensure you tag NSFW appropriately.

Q: Can I use AI?

A: No.

Q: Can a whumper be included in the prompt fill?

A: The short answer is no. The long answer is that you cannot have the role of whumper in your prompt fill (aka: no whumper-on-whumpee); however, if the character you want to be a whumpee or a caretaker happens to be a whumper, then as long as they are not fulfilling the role of whumper, it's fine. Also, if there is a whumper, it must be totally impersonal and faceless. Here are some examples for clarification:

A character's drink is spiked at a party. OKAY: The whumper who spiked the drink is never mentioned and is completely faceless, and the story is directly about whumpee recovering. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper who spiked the drink kidnaps the whumpee. A character is left alone in a storm. OKAY: The character is stranded or lost. NOT WHUMPERLESS: Whumper tied them to a post and left them in the storm. A character is mugged on the street. OKAY: The whumper is a stranger, faceless, and the focus is on Whumpee. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper is a stalker and there to kidnap Whumpee.

All in all, if your goal is to fulfill the event, then try to avoid a whumper. If you're using the prompts elsewhere, then ignore this; but in the spirit of the event, no whumper roles please.

Q: How do I tag my posts?

A: Tag with #whumperless whump event, #wwevent 2025 and #wwevent day [x](Don't just tag wwe, that's wresting.) Then, tag triggers and content warnings. Please put these first in the tag order! It just makes it easier to reblog.

Q: How do I get reblogged?

A: Mention this blog in your post! It's the easiest way for me to find you. Otherwise, I won't reblog it. (This also means if you do not want your post reblogged to the event, just don't mention the blog, and it'll stay private.)

I think that's about it. That's a lot, so if you've got any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask. I'm happy to help!

PROMPTS:

INSULT TO INJURY: Infected wounds / Hurt and ill / “Fate really has it out for you, huh.”

PUBLIC MISINFORMATION: Presumed dead / Search party / “There's a hand, I can see them!”

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME: Left behind / Attempted Martyr / “Get out while you can, and don't look back.”

LIKE A KALEIDOSCOPE: Numbness / Dissociation / “Can I hold your hand?”

AT LEAST IT'S NOT MANUAL: Trapped in a car / Stranded / “You can't drive like this.”

DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE: Scheduled execution / Near death experience / “That was too close.”

AHOY THERE MATEYS: Motion sickness / Washed ashore / “I hate the ocean.”

CHEF MIS-STEAK: Hot stove / Slip of the knife / “I swear, I'm usually better at this.”

SCHEDULE YOUR MAINTENANCE: Lack of self care / Sick day / “Just take a nap. I can handle the rest.”

BOOM, CLAP: Gunshots / Sound sensitive / “Shut up, please.”

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP: Overworking / No time to rest / “We're not safe yet.”

HOW DID WE GET HERE: Isekai'd / Evacuation / “This is not a good place to be.”

A GOOD OLD FASHIONED BEATDOWN: Training mistake / Accidentally hurting someone / “…Let's take a break.”

RIPPED THE RUG FROM UNDER YOU: Despair / Clinging on for dear life / “Please don't leave.”

GET BEHIND ME: Using their body as a shield / Full team whump / “You're such an idiot!”

KNOCK ME OFF OF MY FEET: Collapsing in public / Dizzy / “Woah, there, you good?”

SEEING RED: Bloody nose / Coughing up blood / “Good lord, is all that yours?!”

BREAKING NEWS: Storm Shelters / Huddling for warmth / “It'll be over soon.”

IRRESISTABLE: Venomous snake bite / Spiders / “Man, these bugs really just love you, don't they.”

GOT THE SNIFFLES: Seasonal allergies / Can't stop coughing / “Bring tissues next time.”

FEAR IS THE MIND KILLER: Phobias / Uncontrollable shaking / “I gotta do this. I have to.”

HUG TIME: Touch starved / Comfort / “You're safe. I promise, you're safe.”

RECOVERY PERIOD: Tending to past injuries / Bruises / “Alright. Lecture me before you pop a blood vessel.”

IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING: Wide-scale fire / Third degree burns / “You'll only make things worse if you keep doing that.”

IT'S JUST SPRINKLING: Stuck outside during a storm / Natural disasters / “We should not be out here right now.”

CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE: Flying debris / Pinned / “We gotta get you out of here.”

ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH: Withdrawal / Hangover / “You'll get through this.”

TAKE A WALK (LITERALLY): Hiking mishap / Heatstroke or heat exhaustion / “Can we take a break?”

TAKE A WALK (FIGURATIVELY): Snapping under pressure / Lashing out / “You wanna say that again?”

MIND THE STRINGS: Mind control / Psychic mishap / “Come back to yourself, please!"

ONE WRONG STEP: Caught in a trap / Impaled / “If we remove it, you'll bleed out in seconds.”

ALTERNATES:

THE CLOCK IS TICKING: Losing track of time / Long term coma / “Was I… dreaming?”

IMPROVISED SOLUTIONS: Field medicine / Makeshift gurney / “It's all we have, I'm sorry.”

HARD KNOCK LIFE: Severe concussion / Clumsiness / "Sorry… who are you again?"

UNDER PRESSURE: Can't stop the bleeding / Disrupted healing factor / "Why isn't it working?!"

WHO'S YOUR EMERGENCY CONTACT: Workplace mishap / Distress call / "Talk to me."

SHENANIGANS AFOOT: Time loops / Body swap / "You're scaring me."

A RIVER IN EGYPT: Working through injury / Recovery / "I'm fine. I'm fine."

[bangtanbeom]

⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends and your ex? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: hi! welcome to another story (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i had this idea for years and recently i've been reading so many fake dating webtoons and it motivated me to finally start writing this one! and i thought soobin would be a perfect fit for the perfect boyfriend image. i'm excited how this one will turn out! enjoy <3

the cafe buzzed with chatter, the scent of vanilla lattes and fresh pastries filling the air. you stirred your iced coffee absentmindedly, half-listening to your friend's conversation—until mina leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"so," she said, tapping her nails against the table. "i met this amazing guy at the gym last week. tall, sweet, works in finance. you have to meet him."

you sighed, already knowing where this was going. "mina, no."

"oh, come on!" jia chimed in, nudging your arm. "you ghosted every guy after the blind dates and you're rarely out of the house since you got dumped. it's been months!"

"and i'm fine with that," you said, though the words tasted hollow even to you.

mina scoffed. "liar. you've been buried in work, and your idea of fun friday night is rewatching 'reply 1988' alone. again."

you opened your mouth to argue, but jia cut in before you. "just one more blind date. if you hate him, we'll never bring it up again."

a headache was forming between your temples. you loved your friends, but their relentless matchmaking was exhausting, and you knew they would definitely bring it up again. before you could think better of it, the words tumbled out.

"i am seeing someone."

silence.

mina's spoon clattered against her cup. jia's eyes widened.

"what?" they said in unison.

your stomach dropped. you hadn't planned this—there was no name, no face, just the desperate need to make them stop.

jia recovered first. "since when? who is he? why haven't you mentioned him before?"

"it's... new," you hedged, scrambling for details. "we're taking it slow."

they exchanged glances, and you braced yourself for interrogation—but then mina's expression softened. "well... we're happy for you. seriously."

jia nodded. "but you have to bring him to the dinner next week. you know, the one where he might show up."

your ex. the one who'd made you feel small, replaceable. the reason you'd taken a break from dating in the first place.

a cold knot formed in your chest. you couldn't show up alone. you weren't ready to face him, especially when you were still hurt.

"of course," you heard yourself say. "he'll be there."

as your friends cheered, your mind raced.

what have i just done?

you had exactly eight days to find the perfect boyfriend.

and he didn't even exist.

the moment you stepped into your apartment, the weight of your lie crashed down on you.

eight days.

eight days to produce a boyfriend out of thin air—one charming enough to convince your friends everything's going well, impressive enough to make your ex regret everything, and believable enough to not get caught in your own web.

you groaned and face-planted onto the couch.

"this is a disaster."

your phone buzzed. a text from mina.

mina: can't wait to meet your mystery man! tell me everything about him!!

you stared at the screen, your fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. what could you say? that your imaginary boyfriend was tall? kind? had a nice voice? that was all you had—vague traits you'd daydreamed about but had never actually found in real life.

you typed back:

you: haha i'll tell you more later!

and immediately threw your phone across the couch like it had burned you.

the next morning, you dragged yourself to work, dark circles under your eyes from a night spent spiraling. your coworker, yeonjun, took one look at you and whistled.

"wow. who died?"

"my dignity," you muttered, slumping into your chair.

he rolled his chair closer, intrigued. "okay, drama queen. spill."

you hesitated. but yeonjun was the king of bad decisions—if anyone had advice on digging yourself out of a hole, it was him.

so you told him.

his eyebrows shot up. then burst out laughing.

"oh my god. you actually told them you had a boyfriend?"

"shut up." you hissed, glancing around the office. "i panicked!"

yeonjun wiped a tear from his eye. "okay, okay. so just... find a guy to pretend for one night. easy."

you blinked. "easy?"

"yeah! get a friend to do it. or—" his eyes lit up. "oh! rent one."

you stared at him. "a boyfriend?"

"yeah! it's a thing. there are, like, agencies for that. super professional." he pulled out his phone. "look, here's one—'perfect match rentals.' they specialize in fake dates, events, all that."

your stomach twisted. was this really your only option?

yeonjun smirked. "unless you wanna tell them you lied?"

you shuddered. no. absolutely not. they'd never let you live it down. you already dug the hole for yourself—too deep. and let's not start about your ex.

with a deep breath, you nodded.

"fine. let's rent me a boyfriend."

yeonjun swiped through his phone with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. "okay, let's see what we've got here. perfect match rentals—professional, discreet, and way too many good-looking guys."

you leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. the agency's website was sleek, polished and slightly intimidating. rows of profiles stared back at you—smiling, smoldering, some even holding puppies for maximum charm.

"this feels illegal," you muttered.

yeonjun scoffed. "illegal would be if we were hiring a hitman. this is just... strategic dating."

you shot him a look.

he grinned. "relax. think of it like ordering food. you're just picking the perfect dish for the occasion."

you sighed. "fine. let's see the menu."

yeonjun tapped the first profile. "ooh, check out jackson. 29, business man, speaks three languages. his tagline is literally: 'impress your collegues—or your ex.'"

you squinted at the photo of a sharp-jawed man in a tailored suit. "he looks like he owns a yacht."

"exactly! your ex would hate that."

"yeah, but he also looks like he'd side-eye me for using the wrong fork."

yeonjun snorted. "okay, fair. next!" he swiped. "oh! jaeyun. 25, specialty: 'the kind your mom would love to.' look at his smile! he probably bakes cookies."

you tilted your head. "he's cute, but..."

"but what?"

"i don't need a golden retriever in human form. my ex would think i downgraded to a puppy."

yeonjun groaned. "you're impossible." swipe. "alright, how about taehyung? 27, 'mysterious artist' vibe. look at that smolder."

in the photo, a brooding guy in all black stared moodily at the camera, a paintbrush behind his ear.

you deadpanned. "i don't need my fake boyfriend giving me cryptic one-word answers all night."

"ugh, fine." yeonjun scrolled furter, muttering. "sweet but not boring, handsome but not intimidating, confident but not arrogant..." then he froze.

"oh."

you frowned. "what?"

he turned the screen toward you.

the profile photo showed a guy with soft, warm eyes and a dimpled smile that felt like spring. he wasn't posing dramatically—just leaning against a cafe chair, looking at the camera like he already knew you.

name: soobin age: 24 specialty: the boyfriend experience

your breath caught.

yeonjun's voice dropped to a whisper. "damn."

you swallowed. "he's..."

"exactly what you need," yeonjun finished, grinning.

you hesitated. "but what if he's too good? what if my friends think i'm lying because there's no way someone like him would date me?"

yeonjun rolled his eyes. "first of all, rude to yourself. second—that's the point. he's supposed to make it believable." he tapped the screen. "look at his reviews. five star across the board. 'made my parents adore him.' 'had my ex seething with jealousy.' 'felt like a real relationship.'

you bit your lip.

yeonjun smirked. "so... should i book him?"

you took a deep breath.

"do it."

yeonjun's fingers flew across his phone screen with terrifying enthusiasm. "aaand—booked." he grinned at you, satisfied. "you're officially getting a fake boyfriend."

your stomach flipped. "wait, already? what did you even put in the request?"

"relax," he said, waving his phone. "just the basics—dinner with friends, ex will be there, need someone to make you look like the ultimate glow-up." he scrolled through the confirmation email. "oh, and he'll meet you tomorrow at 6 PM to go over details."

you nearly choked. "tomorrow?!"

yeonjun shrugged. "professionalism, baby. this guy doesn't mess around."

you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "i can't believe i'm doing this.

"believe it," yeonjun said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "by the time next week, your ex will be crushed, your friends will be shocked, and you—" he poked your cheek. "—will owe me big for saving your ass."

you swatted him away, but a nervous laugh escaped. "this is either going to be the best decision of my life or a spectacular disaster."

yeonjun winked. "best part? either way, it'll be entertaining. for me."

the glow of your phone screen was the only light in the darkened room, casting long shadows across the piled of discarded clothing thrown over your bed. you stared at the text from mina, the words blurring as your eyes burned from lack of sleep.

mina: omg he said yes?? so he's coming? super funn!

you tossed the phone aside with a groan, letting it sink into the sea of fabric surrounding you. the digital clock on your nightstand ticked over to 1:18 AM, the red numbers glowing in the darkness.

"this is ridiculous," you muttered to the empty room, flopping back onto the mattress. a misplaced coat hanger stabbing into your shoulder, and you batted it away with more force than necessary.

the ceiling fan spun lazy circles above you as your mind raced through the same exhausting loop it had been stuck in for hours.

outfit. story. backstory. cancellation.

a nervous laugh bubbled up as you imagines explaining this to someone.

i'll be meeting my fake boyfriend tomorrow to plan our fake relationship for a dinner where my very real ex will be watching.

your phone buzzed again.

yeonjun: stop overthinking and go to sleep. you have a hot date tomorrow.

you scowled at the message.

you: it's NOT a date. it's a business meeting.

yeonjun: sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.

you rolled onto your stomach, burying your face in a pillow that smelled faintly of fabric softener and regret. the scent reminded you of laundry day, which reminded you of chores, which reminded you of all the very normal, very boring things you should be worrying about instead of this elaborate charade.

the sweater you'd tried on earlier—the soft cream one with the delicate embroidery at the collar—laid crumpled near your feet. it had been the frontrunner before the great wardrobe purge of midnight. classy but casual. approachable but put together. the perfect 'i didn't try too hard but still want to make a good impression' outfit.

not that you were trying to impress anyone.

except, well.

you groaned again, louder this time, as if the sound could exorcise the butterflies staging a rebellion in your stomach.

a glance at the clock. 1:37 AM

with a sudden burst of determination, you sat up and grabbed your laptop. the screen flared to life, illuminating your tired face in the dark room.

"backstory," you muttered to yourself, fingers hovering over the keys. "we need a believable backstory."

the blank document stared back at you, cursor blinking expectantly.

how did we meet?

your fingers tapped out possibilities:

coffee shop (cliche)

mutual friends (vague)

work connection (too easy to fact check)

you deleted them all with a frustrated backspace barrage.

the reality of what you were doing settled over you like a heavy blanket. you were about to pay a stranger to pretend care about you. to look at you with affection that wasn't real. to spin lies so convincing your closest friends would believe them.

your fingers stilled on the keyboard.

maybe you should cancel.

the thought brought both relief and a strange pang of disappointment. you could text yeonjun right now, tell him to call it off. you'd face the teasing from your friends, sure, but at least you wouldn't be living this lie.

your phone buzzed again, startling you.

unknown number: hi, this is soobin from perfect match. looking forward to meeting you tomorrow at 6. let me know if you have any special requests for our backstory.

your breath caught.

he texted like a normal person. no corporate speak, no weird formality.

you stared at the message, thumbs hovering over the screen. what did one say to their rented significant other?

looking forward to being fake-dating you?

before you could overthink it, you typed:

you: hi! likewise, no special requests—just need to survive dinner with my ex.

you hit sent before you could second-guess yourself, then immediately cringed.

"survive dinner with my ex?" you muttered. "what are you, twelve?"

the three dots appeared almost immediately.

soobin: ah, the classic revenge fake-dating scenario. don't worry. i've got plenty of experience making exes regret their life choices.

a surprised laugh escaped you

you: that's weirdly comforting.

soobin: that's what i'm here for. see you tomorrow. try to get some sleep.

you stared at the message, something warm yet nerve-wrecking feeling unfurling in your chest. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

closing the laptop, you finally turned off the light. outside the window, the city hummed its nighttime lullaby, and for the first time that evening, your mind grew quiet too.

tomorrow would come, with all its complications and charades. but for now, in the dark, you let yourself imagine—just for a moment—what might feel like to have someone like soobin, just someone in general, look at you like you were the only person in the room.

even if it was all pretend.

the cafe was too bright.

that was your first thought as you hovered outside the entrance, fingers nervously adjusting the strap of your bag for the twelfth time in two minutes. the afternoon sun glinted off the glass windows, making the entire establishment look like it was under a spotlight—which, of course, only amplified your growing sense of dread.

this was a mistake.

you checked your phone again. 5:58 PM. two minutes early.

your stomach twisted.

you could still leave. you should leave. this whole thing was absurd. who hired a boyfriend? who pretended to be in a relationship just to save face in front of their ex?

you... apparently.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door.

the scent of roasted coffee beans and warm pastries wrapped around you as you stepped inside. it was cozy—wooden tables, soft jazz playing in the background, the low hum of conversations. a few people glanced up as you entered, and you immediately stiffened, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you felt.

was it obvious why you were here?

you swallowed hard and scanned the room.

then you saw him.

soobin.

he was sitting near the back, one hand curled around a coffee cup, the other tapping idly on his phone. he looked... normal.

not in a bad way. just—human?

no flashy suit, no over-the-top charm oozing from his posture. just a guy in a soft-looking sweater, his hair slightly messy like he'd run a hand through it one too many times.

and then he looked up.

your breath hitched.

his eyes—warm, brown, kind—met yours, and for a second, you forgot how to move.

then he smiled.

not a practiced, customer-service smile. not a smirk. just a small, genuine tilt of his lips, like he was happy to see you.

it threw you off completely.

you forced your legs to work, weaving through the tables until you stood awkwardly in front of him.

"hi," you said, voice slightly too high. "you're soobin, right?"

he nodded, setting his phone down. "yeah. and you must be my date for next weekend."

his voice was deeper than you expected. calm. steady.

you nodded, then realized you were just standing there like an idiot.

"right. yeah. should i—" you gestured awkwardly at the chair across from him.

"please," he said, motioning for you to sit.

you did, gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

it lasted approximately three seconds.

three agonizing seconds where you stared at your hands, at the table, at the wall behind him—anywhere but at him—while he just... waited. patient. unfazed.

finally, you blurted out:

"this is weird."

soobin blinked. then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, warm sound.

"yeah," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "it kind of is."

the honestly caught you off guard.

"you're not going to pretend this is totally normal?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he shrugged. "would you believe me if i did?"

"...no."

"exactly." he took a sip of his coffee. "so. let's just acknowledge it's weird, and then move on."

you exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. "okay. yeah. that helps."

another silence.

"so," you tried again, "how long have you been, uh, doing this?"

"renting myself out as a fake boyfriend?"

you cringed. "when you say it like that, it sounds bad."

he grinned. "about a year. mostly for events like this—dinners, parties, the occasional family gathering."

"do you... like it?"

"it pays well," he said simply. then, after a pause, "and sometimes, it's nice. helping people out, i mean."

you studied him. there was something in his tone—not quite sadness, but... understanding. like he got why someone would do this.

"so," he said, setting his cup down, "tell me about this dinner."

you sighed, rubbing your temples. "right. okay. so my ex is going to be there—"

"right, yes. revenge."

you shot him a look. "it's not revenge. it's just... a lie that got out of hand." you trailed off.

"sounds like revenge." he supplied, smirking.

you groaned. "fine. maybe a little."

he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "i'm listening."

and so you explained—the lie, your friends, the never-ending blind dates, the way your stomach churned at the thought of showing up alone while he got to parade around with his new girlfriend—the same girl he had cheated on you with.

soobin nodded along, his expression shifting between amusement and something softer—sympathy, maybe.

when you finished, he hummed. "okay. so we need a backstory."

"right."

"how did we meet?"

you hesitated. "i was thinking... coffees shop?"

he raised an eyebrow. "like this?"

"too obvious?"

"a little." he tapped his fingers against the table. "what about... a bookstore? you were reaching for the same book, we got to talking..."

you blinked. "that's... actually kind of cute."

"i have my moments," he said dryly, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.

"okay, bookstore it is," you agreed, "and we've been dating for...?"

"two months. long enough to be serious, not so long that it's weird they haven't met me yet."

you nodded, scribbling notes in your phone like this was some kind of bizarre business meeting.

"what do i do for work?" he asked.

"something impressive but not too impressive," you mused. "graphic designer?"

"perfect. and you?"

"same as real life. marketing."

he grinned. for the first time since you'd walked in, your shoulders loosened. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

as you wrapped up the details—favorite foods, pet peeves, how you like your coffee—you caught yourself laughing at something he said.

laughing.

with your fake boyfriend.

the absurdity of it all hit you again, but this time, it didn't feel like panic. it felt like... fun.

soobin leaned back in his chair, studying you with an amused expression. "you're not as nervous anymore."

you blinked. "i'm not?"

"nope. your shoulders dropped about ten minutes ago."

you hadn't even noticed.

"guess you're just that good at your job," you muttered.

he smiled—not the polite one from earlier but something warmer. "or maybe you're just not as awkward as you think you are."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"so," he said, finishing the last of his coffee, "we good for next week?"

you took a deep breath. "yeah. we're good."

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

© bangtanbeom 2025

[englishisaboutconfidence]

Just Another Day

Why were you here? Once again you had let your friends drag you to a party that while you didn't despise it, you certainly didn't fit in. Your friends, loving and as great as they are, love to hype up a party, assuring you that you will have a great time while there and as always, the first 30 minutes to an hour are great. Then they get distracted or pulled away by other people you know. You follow them for a while but eventually you just feel like a burden and let them do their thing while you wander around the party aimlessly. After wandering into what looks like a small lounge area, you quickly take the seat vacated by someone who clearly has other plans for the rest of the night and you open up your phone to browse Reddit. Yep, you are one of those people. After browsing it for a few minutes, the background behind your phone changes from an endless movement of bodies, to one static body. Looking past your phone you are met by the gaze of one Anna Tanaka or Anna Jang as some like to call her.

She is staring at you like your mere presence offended her and in a way it did. She's one of the campuses IT Girls and you are just a nerd who has charismatic friends who got you into this party. Knowing that she won't leave you alone until you do what she wants, you put away your phone and start to get out of your chair. Seeing you start to move, Anna turns around and leaves the room. Following her around like a lost puppy, you follow Anna throughout the house until she enters a room on the second floor. Entering a few seconds after her, you realize where you are: her bedroom. After realizing where you were, your eyes found Anna staring at you, stone faced. Tracking her eyes, you realize that she wants you to sit on the bed with her. Sitting down, you turn to her expecting a lecture; but instead you are met by a pair of eyes staring into what felt like your soul. Clearing your throat to try to cut through the awkwardness, you realize that she was waiting for you to talk. "Hey Anna, how are you". crickets "Okay yes I know this is a bit weird me at your party announced. I didn't realize the party was here and I didn't even want to come in the first place. Okay I wanted to at the start but then I remembered how much I like not being at parties." still no response from Anna "Okay Okay, I'm sorry that I'm here… unannounced. I should've told you that I was going out to a party and once I realized it was here, I should've texted you the situation." "And?" she finally responded. "And… I love you?" SHe cocked her eye at you waiting for more "and I'm going to spend the entire weekend making it up to you?" "Good". Sighing a breath of relief, Anna quickly gives you a soft peck. "And I love you too Y/N".

Oh yeah, you forgot to mention something. You and Anna have been dating for the past 2 years in secret. Well maybe not secret, you two never hide your relationship in public, but you also never actively showcased it. Anna's friends knew because well they knew everything that happened at the school; but also because they had caught you one of your first times sneaking into the house to meet Anna. You two had met during freshman orientation and while you never expected anything other than maybe the occasional greeting in passing to come from it, you two had actually bonded quite nicely. You were an Econ major and she was a Psych major, but surprisingly you shared 2 of classes your freshman year. The first day of classes, you had arrived early and sat in the back. She arrived a few minutes later and after scanning the room plopped down right next to you. Seeing her sit down, you gave a slight nod in acknowledgement and before returning to your phone. "A slight nod, that's it? Didn't your parents teach you any manners or at least sociable niceties?" Anna spat out with a clear annoyance in her voice. "Sorry, how are you Anna?" "Fine, whatever". Unsure how to proceed you just sat there quietly until class began.

Your following class went well enough that you almost forgot about your incident with Anna, your professor even dismissed you a few minutes early so you could get to your next class with plenty of margin for tardiness. Seeing that no one else had gotten there yet, you proceeded to sit in the back again and hop on your phone. Being too absorbed in your phone, you didn't notice something sitting down next to you until you heard an exasperated sigh. Taking your eyes off your phone, you look to see who made the noise and you are met by the annoyed yet exceedingly beautiful face of Anna Jang. Realizing that she was looking at you expectantly, you ask her how the rest of her day has been. "It's been good. Nothing crazy, just lunch and syllabus day in my other class". "How about you Y/N?" You began to answer her but you were interrupted by the professor starting the class. 70 minutes later, your first day of classes was finally over.

After an awkward first day of classes, you and Anna actually were able to have a pretty good rapport. You and she would talk throughout your shared classes and would partner up whenever you had to pick a partner or do a group project. She quickly became famous throughout the school. You , on the other hand, stayed relatively unknown except to the few circles you ran in. One night, you were playing LoL with your old highschool friends when you started to get a FaceTime. Picking up your phone to answer it, you are surprised to see that it was Anna. You had texted for projects or just to go over homework; but you had never FaceTimed her. Quickly fixing your headset hair, you answer the FaceTime. "Y/N-a, where are you" You hear Anna slurred out. "Anna, who did you FaceTime?". you hear her friend and fellow IT Girl Ella Gross yell out. Seeing her come into picture, you see the a surprisingly unsurprised Ella. "Oh hey Y/N". Caught off guard by how nonchalant she was, you quickly shake off your surprise and answer her "Not too bad, how about you? Seems like y'all are having a good time" "you know what, not too bad too. Although, it's only been 15 minutes and Anna is already acting buzzed and FaceTiming you." Confused by what she meant, you suddenly here Anna, fully sober sounding, "Yaaah, Ella you can't tell either of those things". Realizing what she said and how she said it, Anna shyly turns back to the camera and you can see a blush creeping up her neck. "Hey Y/N" "Hey Anna". Neither of you knew what to say next, you two let the gap in the conversation become filled with awkward silence. Finally Ella decided to butt in and save the two of you, "God you guys are terrible at this. Y/N, Anna is wondering if you would like to come out and hang out with us?" "Uh, yeah I'm down." "Perfect, we are at The Reserve." "Cool, I'll see y'all in a bit". You say goodbye to your friends and quickly throw on some acceptable clothes and head out to meet up with Anna and her friends.

15 minutes later, you arrive at The Reserve and start to look for Anna. Looking around lost, you feel a tap on your shoulder and you are greeted by a blushing Anna and an annoyed Ella. "Hey Y/N" "Hey Anna" "God not this again, you two need some drinks" you heard Ella say before marching off to the bar. "So uhh, how are you Anna?" "Pretty good, I've been working out more recently so that's been great and my classes have slowed down so that's good. How about you?" "Good too, just hanging out, playing games, and chilling." Unsure what to say next, you feel the awkwardness start to take over; but luckily your shared savior Ella returned with 6 shots. "Bottoms up you two. You both clearly need this to get the conversation going". All 3 of you grab a shot in each hand and quickly knock them back. After letting the liquid courage take hold, you and Anna's conversation quickly picks up. You two spent the rest of the night dancing, talking, and taking more shots.

The next day, you woke up extremely groggy. Blinking rapidly trying to clear up your vision, you felt an unfamiliar weight on your chest and an unknown warmth around your nether regions. Regaining your vision, you realize that your not in your room and that a woman is laying on top of you. You then start to get flashbacks of what happened the previous night after taking those shots with Ella. You and Anna had spent the rest of the night attached at the hip and when it was time to leave, Anna asked you to walk her home. Being the gentlemen you were, you had of course accepted and when she had opened the door to her dorm, she quickly turned around and pulled you in. Pulling you like she was walking a dog, she dragged you into her room and shoved you onto her bed. You couldn't remember what happened next, but the next thing you remembered was you locking eyes with Anna before burying your cock inside her warmth. Your mind then skipped some more and all you could remember was her having to tear your mouth off her tits so she could kiss you and you filling her with load after load of your cum. You then remembered that you had never actually pulled your cock out of Anna's creampied pussy. That realization along with your memories from last night caused your cock to quickly return to fall mast. You started to feel Anna slowly move her hips, looking down you are greeted by Anna smirking at you. "Oh hey Y/N. Fancy seeing you here" seeing you completely flustered, Anna sat up to straddle you and started to move her hips even faster. "Y/N, you are going to need to start to take more proactive actions if our relationship is going to work". You open and close your mouth like fish while trying, begging your brain to come up with a response. Seeing you struggle, Anna decided to save you. "Yes, I said relationship. You. Me. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Okay?" Still unable to form a sentence, you just respond with a nod. "Good. Now stop thinking and just fuck me". That got you to regain your composure. 2 rounds later, you carried Anna into her bathroom and indulged in your first instance of shower sex.

"Y/N?" "Sorry Jagi, I was just remembering our first day." "Don't you mean the day after our first night" Anna smugly responded. Pushing her back onto her bed and hovering over her, "No actually, I was remembering when I first realized that you were a little slut who loves getting her cunt filled with load after load". "Oh really, you sure I'm not just a little slut for the man who took my first time?" "Jagi, don't you forget that you took my firs time as well and that you initiated it". "Oh did I? I don't remember exactly what happened that night" Anna coyly answered. "Oh really? Why don't I remind you then" you whispered into her ear. Giving you a quick kiss on your lips, Anna smirked at you "Finally, only took you 2 years to become proactive. Now Jagiya, why don't you stop yapping and instead fill my pussy with the cum it so sorely needs". Lining up your cock with her entrance, you give her a loving kiss on her head before saying "Trust me Anna, I am going to make sure never forget who owns this cunt".

[smokeypeaches-and-honeyplums]

may I request headcanons for Wukong, MK, Red Son, and Macaque finding out their crush or S/O has a snort laugh that they try to hide?

please and thank you

PLEASE?????????????? GOD I HAVE A SNORT LAUGH TOO AND THIS FEELS SO PERSONAL I'M GONNA BLOW UP

Reader is Gender Neutral by default

MK

S/O

MK absolutely LOVES to make people laugh and you are no different

So when he finds out you have a snort laugh, he REVELS in it

To him, it's a sign that he's doing a really good job and! It's really fucking adorable for him

If you're self conscious about it, he won't push you too much about it

He'd never want you to feel uncomfortable while you're with him, so he'll never push further than he's allowed

He'll always express how much he loves it when he gets the chance to though, don't get me wrong

Eventually, it gets to the point he develops his own and it's a never ending cycle between you two

It feels nice to have a bit more of a positive about your snort, but it does hurt after a while--

MK gets worse when he purposefully does what he knows makes you laugh the most

Your nose and throat hurts by the end of it

If you're laughing especially hard, he'll be grinning ear to ear at just the sound of it

He's glad to have ONE consistency in his life, what with everything that goes on

So if he can listen to your laugh before the next crisis, that's enough for him

(THEY TOOK MY YELLOW TEXT--)

Crush

(darkskinredsontruthertilIdie)

You so happened to slip up one day when Redson heard it the first time around, immediately trying to hide it right after

He didn't think much of it, not in the way you'd think at least

He always associated it as another irritating staple that he loves so much about you and infuriates him that it is

Like, excuse me

How dare you have the most charming, cute and cheeky laugh he's ever heard?

A peasant like you shouldn't be making his heart soar so much and so easily all the damn time

What the fuck >:(

Redson wouldn't trying to fish for it as much as the others, his pride prevents him

But he does savour the moments you do do it, don't get me wrong

However, when he sees you hide it every time right after, a part of him wants to try and ease your worries. At least, that's what he thinks

"You know... you shouldn't feel like you should hide your laugh."

"For all the annoying little quirks you have, this one is..."

"It's... endearing."

Silence.

Silence...

"Redson? Are you going soft on me?"

"NO! No- Do not-"

"D'awwww, you care!!"

"Redson cares for me!!"

"Know what?! Forget I said anything."

Cue the laughter, only this time with a bit more snorting given his reassurance in his own special, Redson way

In your fits of laughter, you miss a small smile growing on the demon prince's lips

In all your teasing, it's worth it to see you like this

Crush

Wukong has a tendency to be cheeky to the tenth degree and then some

So trust and believe he already knows

And he REVELS in it

He likes the sound of your laugh in general, so the fact he manages to get you laughing so much that you start snorting makes his heart do flips

He doesn't like that you try to hide it, but he'd be the last person to talk about not hiding something you're self conscious about

Given the whole shared headcanon of glamour, it becomes pot and kettle

Has that ever stopped him tho?

No

So why would it now?

He tries to get you to feel more comfortable with your laugh because he finds it very important to him

Is it another reason amongst a sea on why he loves you?

Yeah

Will he admit it?

No-

Well?

Not now-

Ahem

Anyways, when he hears your genuine laughter, he's shining like the sun and absolutely BEAMING with joy and whines when you hide it

"NONONO, don't hide it! I love your laugh!"

"Don't hide it please :("

Pulls out the big guns (puppy dog eyes) just to make you agree

"Fine"

Happy Monkey <3

Of course, he genuinely does try to make sure you're comfortable about it and reassures you in his own Monkey King way, so don't be too worried.

S/O

Like Wukong, Macaque is the last person to tell you not to hide something, the scoundrel

Motherfucker is hiding EVERYTHING

Smoke and Mirrors the character™

But, that has never stopped him before

With that established, given how all doom and gloom this brooding monkey is, he finds solace in your laughter, and he's picked up on your snorting even when you try to hide it

He hears all

But, unlike the others, he won't push you or try to convince you to reveal something you don't feel like revealing

He would know how that feels personally

And if Macaque is anything at all, he's self aware. enough

He'll let you get comfortable laughing in front of him to your fullest at your own time, while giving you quiet reassurance now and again

Once you're sure he won't judge you for it and you're fully comfortable, your laughter makes him the warmest he's felt in so long

Who would've thought? The Six-Eared Macaque has a heart!/j

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

worlds worst brother | jamie tartt x kent!reader

a/n; in my head i see this as a mini series, but this part just kind came to me. i'm picturing a part 2 & a 'how they started' ...... idk but i live for the angst, bye.

summary; your big brother roy catches jamie in your house

part 2 - don't shut me out

"I don't understand why you won't tell me about the bloke you're seeing," Roy mumbled, crossing his arms, "you always let me vet them."

Roy had stopped over late, without so much as a warning text, after dropping Pheobe off at your sister's house. He needed you to pick her up after school tomorrow, because he had a meeting with Ted and Beard and couldn't reschedule, and your sister was meant to be at work all day.

"C'mon, let me meet him! Is he here now? These ugly shoes must be his."

You were smiling nervously trying to get Roy to leave. Normally, an unannounced visit from Roy would end in a few hours of chatting and maybe a glass of wine, but today you were rushing your brother out the door - and he noticed.

"Let's set up a lunch next week," you said, "not just spring it on him now."

It shouldn't be a big deal. You were a grown woman, you could have boys' spend the night without Roy throwing a fit, he'd grown used to hearing about his younger sister's dates. But you'd been seeing this guy for a while and Roy hadn't heard a peep.

"All right fine," he relented, "but next fucking week and I'm holding you to that."

Except the guy you were seeing is Jamie Tartt.

And it was Jamie Tartt who was fast asleep in your bedroom after a long night spent mostly between the sheets.

And Jesus Christ, what a good night it had been. Jamie had really pulled out all the stops. From the beginning of the night he'd had it all planned out. He sent you out with Keeley in the afternoon with his credit card to buy a new dress, he'd brought flowers when he picked you up, drove you to the loveliest little restaurant on the edge of town while listening to a playlist of love songs he'd curated for the evening, and after dinner he told you that he loved you, and that he wanted to be your boyfriend properly, not just behind closed doors, and you'd agreed to come out with it.

And then he'd taken you home and spent the next few hours worshipping your body and doing everything in his power to make you scream his name.

No cheering fans could ever make him feel like you did when you sang his name over and over like a prayer.

And you had every intention of returning to that bed, and letting Jamie do it again.

You just needed to get Roy the hell out of your house.

Roy was laughing as you ushered him out, but suddenly... he was dead wait, rigid, glued to the spot. You tried to follow his line of sight, but he was in the way.

“Whose jacket is that?”

“What?”

“The fucking Greyhounds jacket!!!”

“Oh this???" you grabbed the windbreaker and tossed it into the closet. "Uh, no one’s, mine.”

“You’re a shit liar, and that was a team jacket."

“Well whatever, don’t ask a question if you don't wanna know the answer.” You were bluffing, you knew damn well he wouldn't let it go. Roy Kent was not one to just let things go that involved his sister.

“Oh, I want to know the fucking answer.”

"Next week!" you squeaked, "We'll go to lunch next week, promise!"

As if someone somewhere was working against you, Roy’s head snapped in the direction of the toilet flushing, followed by light footsteps.

Did Jamie hear what was going on? Maybe it's a miracle and he snuck into the guest room to play innocent. There was no way he didn't hear Roy's yelling.

Sneaking around with Jamie was one thing, but getting caught instead of telling Roy yourself was a whole other problem.

“Wait, dont-“

But he was already off down the hall, and you were hot on his trail. Jamie was in your room, caught like a deer in the headlights trying to pull on his pants. He didn't have time yet to grab his shirt, and his chest, splattered colourfully with a combination of teeth and scratches were staring Roy right in the face.

In your defense, the team was off and no one was meant to be seeing him without a shirt but you...

"Hey now," Jamie said, crooked, uneasy smile on his face, "it's not what it seems."

"It seems like you just fucked my sister!"

"It ain't fuckin', it's makin' love." Jamie crossed his arms, looking around for his shirt. Roy's eye twitched with this new information.

You threw a random night shirt of yours off the ground, and he slipped on (his favourite) Hello Kitty shirt of yours.

"I bought 'er that fuckin' shirt!" Roy shouts, lunging towards Jamie who yelps, and dodges out of reach, trying to hold his hands up in defense, but Roy just grabs him by the wrist, pulling him close so he can headbutt Jamie, knocking him over with the force of it.

"What the fuck Roy?"

"Jamie fucking Tartt? Jamie fucking Tartt? Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Roy will you just-"

"No! No I won't fucking do anything! Out of everyone in this fucking city, you pick Jamie fucking Tartt? This must be a fucking nightmare. And what happens if he breaks your heart? Huh? What if he knocks you up and leaves you on your own? Am I going to have to be the one to pick up all the fucking pieces, again? God, this is gunna turn out so awful and you didn't even stop to think about me, or the fact that he plays for my team, you absolute fucking idiot, I'm fucking tired of sisters who pick stupid fucking boyfriends!"

And it was like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. It was the meanest thing he'd ever said to you, the loudest he'd ever raised his voice against you, and he could see the way your lower lip wobbled, he could see the tears forming in your eyes, and before he could reach out for you, Jamie was already there, arm around you, rubbing your back slowly while he whispered something soothing in your ear.

"I think you should head out," Jamie said, voice even and without any hint of Jamie's usually idiocy. Void of humour or cockiness, and his eyes, his eyes never left your face. "Now, Roy. I think you should head out now."

And Roy didn't know what to say, he didn't mean it, oh of course he didn't mean it. You must know that. He couldn't ever be tired of helping his sisters, you guys were everything to him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, leaving the room with his tail between his legs, closing the door behind him.

With the door closed, he could hear your crying start, and his heart shattered in his chest.

Wasn't Jamie Tartt that broke your heart.

Roy did that all on his own.

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Five

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Tensions and emotion have been building for weeks and weeks. You're still trying to reconcile what your relationship - and your future - was, and what it is now. Everything comes to a head.

Warnings: Angst. Mention of masturbation and sex. Language.

A/N: Rest of the series can be found here.

"How's my beautiful girl? I can't wait to see how gorgeous you'll look."

You sighed inwardly as you read Jessie's text as you and your friends waited. You were wedding dress shopping today and this was your first booking of the day.

Jessie's text sparked a smile, however it was brief as your eye was drawn to the prior messages from the other day.

------

"Hey, I know it's [y/friend's] birthday dinner on Friday and the reservation is at 6:00. Do you know if we're all starting right away or do you think there'll be drinks first and then dinner later?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well, it's just that Zoie starts swimming Friday and her class starts at 5:30. I'm just trying to sort out how I might be able to do both."

"Babe?"

"I don't have to go to her class. It's totally fine. There'll be others."

"It's fine Jess. Just show up when you can."

"No, it's okay. They probably won't even do much day one. I'll go to the next one."

"Jess. Go to Zoie's class. She'd want you there."

"You sure? It's not too, too far from where you guys are meeting. So I shouldn't be overly late. I'll bring [y/friend] a bottle of her favourite wine."

"All good. We'll be happy to see you whenever you get there."

-------

You sighed again as you finished rereading. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard and you found it difficult to muster up the energy to respond. You did though.

"You know you're not supposed to see the wedding dress until the actually wedding, right? lol"

You name was called and your head snapped up and a polite smile crossed your face as you stood. You tucked your phone away and your friends ushered you along after the consultant.

"It says here you have a December wedding," the consultant remarked as she turned to you with a warm smile while you walked.

"Oh, yeah," you answered tepidly, somehow caught off guard by the comment.

"Winter weddings are nice! And we don't get quite as many of those," she commented lightly as she continued to lead you and your friends to the room at the back.

"Oh. My fiancée is a footballer, so we scheduled it during her off season."

"Very nice," she said. "Now, what kind of a style were you thinking for your dress?" She asked as you reached your destination and she turned to you with clasped hands awaiting your response.

Your mind went eerily blank. You'd envisioned a dress, or at least a couple, several times before. You'd pictured Jessie standing at the end of the aisle, tears in her eyes as she watched you walk down the aisle. You'd pictured how tenderly she'd hold your hands as you said your vows. You'd pictured her slipping the band on your finger. The kiss.

But right now you just felt tired and you mind slowly churned as it tried to conjure up a vision.

You blushed in embarrassment. "Um, I don't really know. Whatever looks good, I guess," you said with a laugh you hoped didn't sound too forced.

Your friends immediately jumped in with ideas and for that were you thankful.

Soon you were offered option after option after option. One dress held up after another, each awaiting your approval or disapproval, everyone watching you closely. You could feel your nerves starting to fray as this whole exercise began to overwhelm you.

Eventually, to put a stop to the carousel of dresses, you picked the one that actually stayed in your mind throughout the barrage of options. Everyone chattered excitedly as the dress was retrieved and the consultant opened the lush curtains to the fitting room.

You stepped in and she began to prepare some things for you. Subconsciously you retrieved your phone, looking for some kind of distraction and reprieve from the way your heart was beating loud in your chest.

You opened Instagram mindlessly and the first story on your feed was one Sara posted.

You hadn't wanted to add her. But she extended an invite, and, well, Jessie had her now too, so you might as well be in than out.

You vaguely noted the consultant talking to you over her shoulder, but you were more focused on the clip of Jessie and Zoie kicking a soccer ball back and forth at the park, laughing and running together. The caption, "She wants to be just like her mama" sent a searing pain through your chest.

"Okay, you're all set."

"Hm?" You asked blankly as you looked up from your phone to the woman. Your eyes darted between her and the dress and you plastered a smile on your face. "Oh, great. Thank you."

"Don't worry much about fit right now. It's probably going to feel bulky and not quite right, but that's all stuff we tailor and sort out as part of the alterations. Now, do you want to call one of your friends in to help with the dress?"

"Oh, yeah," you said as you shook your head out with another practiced smile while you tried to stay present.

Your friend helped you step into the dress and you even managed to have a laugh during the whole process as she zipped you up. A soft smile was still on your face as she turned you towards the full-length mirrors. She rested her hands on your shoulders as she took you in, a smile of awe on her face.

You looked at your reflection as you stood there in what could be your wedding dress. You were smiling in the mirror, a smile of yours that had become second nature the past few months and one that you were oh so sick of. This image before you - you smiling in this gorgeous gown, a vision of you at the alter - it felt distant and foreign. You didn't recognize this person.

"You look stunning. What do you think?" Your friend asked. You smiled further.

"I like it," you lied.

As she unzipped you later, you purposefully made a request that drew her away and left you to stand there quietly in front of the mirror alone as you held up the dress with one hand.

This should've been a joyous moment. Instead, you felt like you were mourning a future that never came to be.

That image of Jessie laughing and running around with Zoie - knowing that it was Sara watching on, not you - flashed through your mind.

There were two parallel worlds happening. Jessie your fiancée. Jessie, doting parent to a daughter that wasn't yours, dedicated co-parent and partner to someone who wasn't you.

You stared at yourself for a few moments before your eyes began to sting and your lip trembled. You immediately turned away and took a deep, shuddering breath.

You had a choice to make. Or rather, whether you liked it or not, it felt like the choice had been made for you.

---------

You heard Jessie's key slide into the lock and the bolt turn before the door opened. Her voice carried down the hall as you heard her taking off her shoes, bags rustling in hand.

"Hey, you didn't get back to me, so I just picked up some stuff for stir fry. Is that okay?"

You didn't reply.

Instead, you remained seated at the kitchen table, shoulders slack and body listless as you stared vacantly at the shining diamond ring you'd set in the middle of the table. This ring that she'd bought and given to you with love, with promise, intent and dreams.

You absently rubbed your ring finger that now felt naked. In the grand scheme of things, the ring hadn't been on your finger for all that long, but you felt something akin to phantom sensations despite it.

"Oh, there you are. Are you-"

Jessie's words died off as did her steps as she came to a stop a couple of feet from you. You didn't have to look up to know her eyes were fixed on the ring as well.

You room was heavy with silence before you finally forced yourself to look up at her. You could feel tears forming behind your eyes already. Her gaze shifted from the ring to you and you immediately noticed the shimmering of her eyes.

She visibly swallowed and when she spoke her voice trembled just so despite the faint smile she tried to force. "Hey, what's going on?"

You inhaled as you shifted in your seat to face her. You went to speak, but your throat constricted with impending emotion and your lip began to quiver as tears threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say as you looked up at her. She dropped your gaze, eyes shifting to the floor and you noted how her hands balled tightly into fists as she tried to control her emotions. Her eyes remained transfixed on the floor and you repeated yourself, your voice wavering this time. "I'm sorry, Jess."

She didn't say anything right away and you were about to speak when a tear fell from her, catching the light from the room before it hit the ground.

She looked up at you, eyes brimming with tears and looking so crestfallen. Her cheeks were flushed red; you reflected idly on how there was a time when you'd have inspired that in her as a blush, now here you were breaking her heart.

Your shoulders shook as your own tears began to overtake you. You sniffled and began to speak, feeling the need to explain and to fill this aching silence.

"It's not that I don't love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You're everything I could ever want," your voice rose in pitch as your vocal cords strained. "But I just feel like every day - at one point or another - my heart is getting broken over and over again. I thought I'd be able to fix things. To just get over things. But I haven't. And I'm just starting to feel numb. I-I just don't know what to do anymore."

Jessie's breathing hitched as she began to muster a response, but you forged on feeling like if you didn't say everything you needed to now, you'd just fall back into her arms and that's where you'd stay.

"You have a new life. A new family-" You saw her ready to interject and you cut her off "-it's true, Jess. I know I'm your family, too. But so is Zoie. And Sara. I know you try to dismiss your connection with her, but you are tied to her forever. And I know you don't want to give her precedence over me, but reality is, she's the mother of your child and always will be. You need to put Zoie first, and by proxy, at times Sara - and I can't fault you for that. Your duty and your dedication to your loved ones is one of the many things about you I fell in love with," you forced a laugh as tears fell. You looked at her sadly.

"You gained a family. And I feel like I lost one. It's no one's fault. Maybe that's what makes it so hard." You took a shaky breath. "I think I would've handled this better if I'd come in knowing you had this. But for it to come up the way it has...it's turned everything upside down for me and I just don't know how to right it. I wish I did," you said remorsefully as you dropped her gaze and blinked through more tears. Your hands shook as you wrung them before looking up at her.

"I just don’t feel like I fit anymore. I’ve been trying. I want nothing more than a future with you, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Jessie had been crying quietly as she listened to you speak. Her face was red, her cheeks tear-stained as her chest hitched now and then with unsteady breaths.

Surprise flooded your system and she knelt in front of you. Here she was, on bended knee, taking your hands in hers, sorrow in her eyes and such a contrast from when she knelt before you in much the same way many months before, except that time with unhindered hope and love as she asked you to be hers forever.

“Please don’t do this. I know it’s hard right now. But we can find a way. It’ll get better. And easier. I promise," Jessie beseeched as she looked up at you from her position on the floor.

You didn't know what to say. There wasn't really anything to say. So you just smiled apologetically, hoping she could see how much this was breaking your heart as well.

Jessie searched your eyes and you saw her expression fall furthermore as she cried anew. She clutched your hands as quiet sobs began to take her.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. I never wanted this to happen," she said through her cries. It tore you apart seeing her like this, but in some bizarre way it actually affirmed your decision. You squeezed her hands, caressing the back of them tenderly with your thumbs.

“I know, baby. But I guess this is just how life is. Things can be unexpected. And they don’t always go the way you planned. And this is exactly why this won’t work. You shouldn’t have to feel sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize. You have a gorgeous, sweet little girl. And there’s nothing wrong with that. At all. She deserves all of you and you shouldn't have to choose. And I know I'm the one who's been forcing you to."

You paused, trying to gather your composure, but your voice was still taut as you spoke.

"I'm sorry I'm so selfish. But I also know I'd never forgive myself if Zoie got even the slightest sense that any of this...strife, or difficulty, was because of her. She doesn't deserve that and it's certainly not her fault."

Jessie looked ready to protest. You forged on.

"I truly wish the best for you and for Zoie. And even Sara," you added with a watery laugh before you sniffled. "I know it hasn't been easy navigating things, Jess. I know how hard you tried. And it meant so much that you tried." You let out a brief sob. "Thank you for loving me." Jessie's face collapsed in tears as you said that and she reached up to cup your cheek. You couldn't resist leaning into her touch, but you had to finish what you had to say.

"I stopped wishing that I had gotten to you first. Then you'd be mine, and we could have our old life, or God, that it would be our child we're raising. But even that didn't feel good, because then Zoie wouldn't exist. And that's not right. She's added so much light and love to your life, to your family's - and despite the complications, mine too. I just can't embrace everything the way you have. I can't let go of what I wanted."

You took a shaky breath.

"To be honest - I just don't like who I am right now. How I've been feeling. What I'm bringing to our relationship. So," your features screwed up as you tried to put on a brave face, "it's time for me to go."

Jessie shook her head with a pained expression.

"No, you don't have to. Babe, please," she pleaded as more tears fell, "we can figure this out. I know you feel like you don't fit anymore, but you really do. What can I do to help you see that?" You let her question hang and she stared at you expectantly. She tried to smile, but it flickered with the heartache she was feeling. "We belong together. We love each other."

She said it with such finality it almost convinced you that it was enough.

You looked at her with the first real smile in what felt like so long. You were crying through it, but it was real.

"You deserve so much happiness," you said.

Jessie searched your eyes as she absorbed your words. A sob escaped her and she looked down. A moment passed and she leant her head down and kissed your hand, her lips lingering on your skin for several seconds before she pulled back.

She swallowed visibly as she brought her other hand to yours now as well, clasping yours in both of hers. Her eyes were still trained down as she nodded once. A beat passed and she looked up at you, brown eyes glistening and mournful, but somehow still full of love. She nodded once more as she gave you as brave a smile as she could, no matter how heartbroken she was.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, too," she whispered, voice breaking.

She rose up higher onto her knees and you both met in a soft, tight embrace. Cries wracked your body and hers as you clung onto one another. You inhaled her scent, eyes closing as you willed yourself to remember it; to remember the feel of her hair, the sound and feel of her breath, the feel of her body against yours - you engrained it all.

---------

Sometimes, when a relationship ends, you don't know how the other person will be. Someone who you felt you knew so well can become a stranger overnight. But, that wasn't the case with Jessie.

She was gracious and loving despite the breakup. So much so that sometimes you had to remind her - as painful as it was - that you didn't belong to each other anymore.

"Hey, I'll be home late night. Midfielders are doing some extra technical work this afternoon. I'll text you when I'm done though. I could bring you home dinner or something though?" She'd asked hopefully one time as you both readied for the day.

"That's sweet of you to offer, but it's okay. And it's considerate, but you don't need to keep me apprised of your day. You don't owe me that," you gently reminded her. She gave you a tight, pained smile as she nodded her acceptance.

"Right," she said with a weak laugh. "Well. I guess I'll see you later, then. Um. Have a good day."

The few weeks until you could take possession of a new apartment had been awkward and delicate. You offered to move in with a friend in the interim, but Jessie had convinced you not to. Well, she wasn't wrong that living out of a suitcase for that long would be unnecessarily annoying, and there was certainly no point in moving all of your things twice. So, you'd stayed, with Jessie insisting on relegating herself to an air mattress in the living room. You'd argued with her, but she'd dug her heels in.

The days went by slowly, and at the same time, your move in date grew steadily closer and the pit in your stomach grew just the same. You'd had cold feet several times, but knew it was just some misguided part of you looking for the easy path and short-term pay-off.

It was hard to not have doubts when - despite everything - you and Jessie still got along so well. While it was undeniably hard to be in the same room as her and not be with her, it was still easy in a way. When you allowed yourself, you could chat about your days, even laugh.

What caused the most confusion was probably the fact that you didn't know how to be Jessie's friend. Even when you and her had been just friends at the beginning - a lifetime ago now - there was always something underlying. You had chemistry from the get-go and it was near impossible to deny.

And now, after everything, how could you possibly pretend to just be friends. How could you pretend you weren't in love with her? How could you pretend that this woman sitting a couple feet from you on the couch didn't preoccupy your every thought and could make or break you with her words.

Hell, that not only did she own your heart and mind, but your body, too. That as you laid there lonely in this bed you used to share, that your hand strayed as memories flooded your senses. Of all those nights, mornings, stolen moments, where she made love to you so passionately and desperately. The feeling so intimate and tender, like you were the only person on this earth with her and you the only one who could give her what she needed while she was the only one who could make you whole.

And with the way she looked at you - sometimes unabashed, sometimes fleeting - how could you pretend that she didn't feel the same way?

During moments of weakness, it seemed a silly thing to fight. In a world as dark and lonely as this one could be, why would you leave someone you loved and who loved you back?

But when Jessie spent nights coordinating things with Sara and then went out with her and Zoie on others, you remembered.

The day came when you took possession of your new apartment. You'd initially resisted her offer to help you move, but your resolve weakened and failed.

She'd worn a bright smile all day as she cheerfully tackled every task. You knew her well though; she was trying far too hard.

She helped you arrange furniture, move boxes around, check all the fixtures in the new place, the list went on. Even after you'd dismissed your friends, she'd insisted on sticking around and began helping you unpack.

Her eager assistance carried on into the night. Each time she finished one task, she readily started on another and good-naturedly dismissed your offers to let her stop.

As she chatted fast and constant throughout the night, hitting any and every topic she could, you saw this woman before you - the woman you well and truly loved - making every excuse to not leave. And truthfully, you were happy to delay the inevitable goodbye.

So for now, you both knew what she was doing, but neither of you vocalized it.

You eventually checked your phone. 12:30 am.

"Okay, so I was thinking of unpacking your books over here for now. I saw this really nice bookcase online the other day - I can get it for you over the weekend if you like. I think it could go really well over here. And-"

"Jess."

Her movements stilled and the room grew silent and heavy. She slowly turned to face you and you could see her thinly veiled trepidation.

You offered her a regretful smile as you fought back emotions and grief that began to bubble up inside of you.

"You should go...," you said gently.

She held your gaze for several moments, seemingly teetering on the edge of whether to protest or not. She nodded sadly and forced a smile that faltered as her eyes began to fill with tears.

She forced a laugh as she closed the space between you.

"It's a nice place. Could use some colour, but I know you'll take care of that," she said as she scratched nervously at the back of her neck and gave another weak laugh.

"Thanks for all of your help. Truly," you said.

Her eyes brimmed with tears and her mouth quivered faintly. "Anytime," she said, voice thick with emotion.

She stared at you a moment longer before exhaling, puffing out her cheeks before trying to choke back tears. "I know we're not together. But," she paused, debating her words, "I really do love you. I know you can't make any promises, but, if you're open to it I want you in my life." A quiet sob veiled as a laugh escaped her. "I don't know what my life looks like without you."

"I love you, too, Jessie," you said. You couldn't lie about that.

She embraced you and you held each other tightly in a lingering, tearful hug. Neither of you wanted to be the first to let go.

You eventually conceded and gingerly, regretfully, extracted yourself from her arms. Her fingers lingered as long as she could let them before you stepped back.

You gave her a watery smile.

"Take care of yourself, Jessie."

The statement seemed to wound her, but she covered it up with a tight smile.

"You too."

As you stood before her, a brief recollection came to you of a time long past; your first date. Even then, you knew with absolutely certainty you were going to see her again. As soon as possible if you could help it.

For the first time since the beginning, you didn't know if or when you'd see her again.

You gave her another quick hug, yet again committing her and everything about her to memory.

"I'll see you," you said softly as you hugged her. "And we'll talk soon. Good night, Jess."

Her cheek brushed against yours as she slowly pulled back. Her eyes shone with fresh tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, offering you a renewed smile instead.

"Good night, Y/N."

----

A/N: I did say that things would get a lot rougher before they got better. Let me know your thoughts.

Tag requests: @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[vxnillabxn]

Hi! 💜 Can I request the LADS boys being doggos? Or puppy boys? Or both? 😔 I hope that's okay w/u! You can choose one too!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive as dogs & puppy boys! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚YES! yeeees, yes, i love this, i love this so much. i couldn't chose, so I picked both! hope you like it!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚caleb was a gift from when you were a baby, actually. as soon as you were old enough to crawl around and babble, boom! they added a german shepherd puppy to the family! —both of you caused mischief, though.

﹙♡﹚he's loyal, very protective, very intimidating. he won't let any strangers get near you, and if he feels you're uncomfortable in the slightest, he'll get defensive —or worse, ready to attack if you command him to.

﹙♡﹚he's outdoortsy! he loves being outside. he loves to play, to jump, to run around, and he absolutely loves fetching! he lights up whenever you praise him for bringing the ball or stick back to you.

﹙♡﹚certified good boy ™. he loooves being around you. tail wagging, tongue lolling out as he pants, big puppy eyes just for you. always by your side; sleeping at the end of your bed, waiting outside the bathroom for you, or resting his head on your lap while you watch a movie.

﹙♡﹚loves your scent. you once found all your suspiciously lost t-shirts draped around his bed. he'd dragged them there to keep your scent close, and sleeps like a puppy when he does! he sniffs you a lot, and he'd be able to find you even if you were miles away, just by following your scent.

﹙♡﹚now, as a puppy boy… he's not much different, honestly. though, he can't bark at people or bite them —doesn't mean he doesn't want to— and he can't eat out of his favorite plate unless you lift it from the floor and set it on the table, but he still hates using cutlery.

﹙♡﹚he is always texting you. always. “where are u? do u love me? hiii! are u okay? where are uuu? love me? u good? wheeeere? am i a good boy? yes? love u! hi!”

﹙♡﹚he wags his tail constantly. and yes, he uses those puppy eyes whenever he wants you to give in.

﹙♡﹚he wants to sleep next to you. sure, sleeping at the end of the bed is fine… when he's a dog. but as a full-grown man, he needs to lie down next to you, so he begs, and begs, and begs until you finally let him cuddle you.

﹙♡﹚still loves to play fetch! you can throw him things and he'll catch them for you, running back with a huge grin. you must tell him how good he is, or his ears will go flat.

﹙♡﹚both as a doggo and as a puppy boy, he's your best friend. loyal, charming, absolutely ready to defend you, and happiest when he's by your side.

﹙♡﹚and please, smooch this pup on the forehead. his tail will turn into an helicopter's helix and he'll end up flying! (or he'll just wag his tail furiously, which is just as cute)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚you found the little golden retriever puppy wandering around the beach while building sand castles. ever since then, he's been by your side.

﹙♡﹚obviously, he loves water. he swims, he dives, and he retrieves alright. you could be sunbathing, and this good boy will fill your lap with seashells, sea glass and shiny rocks —or even some treasures, like fallen jewelry or coins—. he's your little merpup!

﹙♡﹚he fishes, okay? if you stop giving him attention for even one second, he already has a fish between his teeth. he offers it to you while wagging his tail, and if you don't accept it…

﹙♡﹚the boy will throw a fit. whiny rumbles, turning away from you, stomping his paw in the sand. how dare you not accept his precious offering?

﹙♡﹚a few scratches there and a loud smooch on his head, and he's already good to go again —running around and panting as he digs in the sand and then goes for a dive.

﹙♡﹚he won't go back inside your home if his paws aren't clean. you must clean them, and his luscious coat too. he must be shining, darling. plus, he doesn't want to ruin your floor; he knows you don't like cleaning over and over again, so this pretty boy is trying to be considerate with his human.

﹙♡﹚now, as a puppy boy, he's just as whiny but just as caring. he dives and brings you trinket after trinket —and he looks divine under the sun—. he also found out he's good at crafting, so he's polishing his skills for you to admire.

﹙♡﹚he's friendly, yes… but that doesn't make him any less protective. on the outside, he's smiling and wagging his tail. but he gently steps in front of you, grabs your hand or stands closer, as if reminding everyone that he might be sweet, but you're still his to protect.

﹙♡﹚he absolutely uses his puppy eyes to manipulate you. and you fall for it every single time. both as a dog and as a puppy boy, he'll make you do as he wants —but of course, all he really wants is attention and cuddles. and fishy treats.

﹙♡﹚he found out he needed sunscreen in his human form. at first he didn't want to use it, as it felt sticky, and when he's a dog, he doesn't need it. but once he learned you'd apply it for him, and it could be considered his second coat, he quickly agreed.

﹙♡﹚he texts you like… every second, even when he's right next to you. “can u like… pay me attention? am i pretty? ohmygosh that dog is so annoying, do i bark like that?” you have to teach him to use his phone only for emergencies, but truthfully, everything feels urgent to this poor boy.

﹙♡﹚he just loves you. he's a big boy, yet he acts like a lap puppy. he can be dramatic, but he loves nothing more than to see you happy! he truly feels like you two belong together, and as long as you take care of him… he'll always take care of you, too.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚you found a small, white kuvasz puppy in a dark alley when you got lost from your parents. he was just as small, and just as scared as you, but ever since you held him in your tiny arms, he knew you two were going to be a forever deal.

﹙♡﹚he's big. very big. and he's protective. you don't call him your pet, because he's not. he's literally your guardian, and he doesn't even need to growl when strangers approach —if they even dare to do so.

﹙♡﹚however, he's a big, drooling teddy bear once he's with you. this big, fluffy boy follows you around. he's observant, not really that enthusiastic, but the subtle wagging and his loving eyes are more than enough for you to know he adores you.

﹙♡﹚he is vocal. very vocal. he howls, and… it doesn't sound good. but he's very passionate about it! he also enjoys when you listen to music; he'll wag his tail as he lies down by your feet, and if he doesn't like a song, he'll just look at you expectantly.

﹙♡﹚he befriended a tiny crow! you took him out for a walk, and a little black bird fell onto his thick coat. ever since then, the crow comes to visit, and sylus allows him to be near —even letting him stand on your shoulder without trying to scare him away!

﹙♡﹚one night, sylus also brought something interesting back home. you saw two things inside his mouth and almost screamed in horror, before he gently set down two identical kittens. oh, so he has paternal instincts? he lets the kittens follow him, and now your house is full of animals thanks to your caring boy.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, sylus is literally by your hip at all times. you need to walk? he's going too. you have to go shopping? yeah, he's in. you need to— yes, yes, and yes. he'll go with you.

﹙♡﹚he doesn't wag his tail that often, but when he does, it's usually when you tell him he's been very good, and that he did a great job keeping you safe during your nightly walks. he feels proud, and he'll hug you, while his white tail slightly moves behind him.

﹙♡﹚no puppy eyes. he'll literally just demand stuff. obviously, everything he asks for involves you. “you have to eat,” or “it's late, go to sleep.” literally, who's the pet and who's the owner? you don't complain, though. you know better than to argue with your huge boy.

﹙♡﹚both as a dog and as a puppy boy, he'll come to you for head pats. he likes it when you massage his scalp and play with his ears, and he also loves to lie on top of you — even when he weighs quite a lot.

﹙♡﹚he likes to bite and destroy! you didn't expect him to be playful, but when he has pent-up energy, he destroys his toys. as a puppy boy, he finds out that kicking pillows is just as relieving… but you once found him biting on a plushie, and he blushed like a cherry. you don't talk about it, though.

﹙♡﹚he'd take a bullet for you. literally. this good boy would die for you; he'd protect you until his last breath, and he'll forever thank you for staying.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚sweet, samoyed baby. he found you, actually. you were playing at the park when suddenly, a fluffy white cloud climbed onto your lap and fell asleep. instant connection, you took him home.

﹙♡﹚he's a sweet baby. he sleeps, he eats, he follows you… and then he takes a nap. he just waits for you to stay still before plopping down by your feet, sighing contently.

﹙♡﹚he listens to you. when you ramble and ramble non-stop, he looks up at you, head tilted and curious eyes shining. he genuinely pays attention, and he paws at your leg to remind you he's there.

﹙♡﹚he's the fluffiest pillow. he loves when you give him belly scratches, and even more when you rest your head on him while you sleep. he'll happily be your pillow anytime you want!

﹙♡﹚he's… a little chaotic, though. he's lucky he's cute, because you've already found dirty paw prints on your clean sheets and his treats scattered around the kitchen. but then he just looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes… and you forgive him like nothing ever happened.

﹙♡﹚he is a jealous doggo. no, he won't bark or bite, but he'll stand alert, protectively in front of your legs. if another dog comes near, xav steps in and rumbles ever so slightly. he needs to make sure you only have his white hairs all over your clothes —no one else's.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, he's honestly identical. those same adorable eyes, the same quiet jealousy over everything and everyone.

﹙♡﹚you can't sleep with plushies when you could literally spoon him, —he loves being the little spoon— and he wants you to! besides, he's so warm and smells so good…

﹙♡﹚he likes being at the park, but not exactly to play. he loves when you two stargaze. when he spots pretty stars, his ears perk up and he wags his tail excitedly. he's such a cute baby.

﹙♡﹚he hates your plushies. straight up beats them up. as a doggo, he bites them until the stuffing goes flying everywhere. as a puppy boy, he punches them while pouting. he wants your attention only on him. nothing else can be cuter and lying around.

﹙♡﹚he loves kisses. this doggo will stand up and place his paws on your thighs, demanding smooches on his cute nose. as a puppy boy, he'll kneel between your legs and rest his hands on your thighs, looking up at you expectantly. and you smooch him until he grows giddy.

﹙♡﹚he's a very loyal dog. he's a cotton ball with legs, and despite the ruckus he causes around you, you're thankful for having such a bright light keeping you on your feet.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚oh, this sweet, small and fluffy terranova baby was walking through the thick snow, leaving the tiniest paw prints as he wandered around without a path. when you found him with your parents, they decided to bring him in, and ever since, he's been your loyal companion.

﹙♡﹚he's a huge doggo now. big. thick fur, your same height when he stands up on his back paws… if not more. he's a gentle giant, always behind you like a shadow.

﹙♡﹚whenever you ask where he is, you'll hear slow and deliberate steps coming towards you, before he softly pants with his tongue out and sits in front of you, waiting for whatever it is you need.

﹙♡﹚he is so smart. he knows basic tricks, though he doesn't do them often. he usually stays beside you, watching as you work or study. he also helps! he'll bring you your shoes if you ask, and he knows how to open the fridge when it's time to assist you making dinner.

﹙♡﹚he also senses when you feel sick. he'll literally refuse to leave your side, even if it's just a silly fever. he sighs upon seeing you, big green eyes looking at you before he softly licks your cheek. he's worried, but he's trying his best.

﹙♡﹚he's a bit naughty, though! he'll lick your plate after you eat something sweet. although now, he's careful as you once had carrot cake and he despised it. his tummy ached afterwards, and you had to rush to the vet. poor baby.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, he definitely helps more. having thumbs is extremely convenient. he helps you cook, he helps you clean, he helps you shop. and when you're sick, he's even more useful now, bringing you medicine or making soup for you.

﹙♡﹚neither his tail nor his ears are very expressive, but his eyes… his eyes are just as gentle and adoring. he'll let you caress his ears, though, and he loves it when you say he's pretty. he blushes.

﹙♡﹚he doesn't play with toys. he usually lies beside you, but… one thing he does love is picking flowers and giving them to you. he'll go to the park and pick pretty flowers for you, or carry them in his mouth when he's a doggo.

﹙♡﹚he is a kind baby, but his big presence scares small animals away. poor baby tilts his head when the squirrels or birds run off, and puppy boy feels defeated. is he really that scary? even when you tell him how adorable he is?

﹙♡﹚he loves, loves, loves when you cuddle him, both as a doggo and as a puppy boy. his thick coat smells so fresh, and as a puppy boy, he'll embrace you oh so tight.

﹙♡﹚ever since you picked him up, he associates snowy days with warmth and love. so this doggo baby will go outside and lie down until his dark fur turns completely white. as a puppy boy, he'll take you outside and hug you under the snow, whispering how thankful he is for having you in his life.

[chlix]

baby, it's cold outside (no seriously it's crazy out there)

bf! chan x gn! reader: your car breaks down in a snowstorm and you have to walk home. chan is there to comfort you and warm you back up

pairing: chan x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: snowstorms, car trouble, sickness, a long series of unfortunate events that leave the reader miserable for most of the fic

a/n: this is a request from @caticorn61 who wanted chan being apologetic for not answering his phone after reader's car broke down. this is perhaps more than what u asked for 😅 but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

You are on a historic run of bad days.

You've never considered yourself to be particularly unlucky, but this past week has had you rethinking that orientation. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. On Monday your alarm didn't go off, making you late for work. Even worse, there was a meeting you'd forgotten about, so you had to slide awkwardly into the back of the room and pretend you didn't feel everyone's annoyed gazes. Tuesday was grocery shopping day, but you found out they discontinued your favorite brand of chips, and raised the price of an alternative, so you were forced to go home chip-less. Then, when you tried to take the groceries out of the car, one of the bags split open and sent your eggs, cheese, and blueberries crashing to the ground, buried in slush and snow. A total waste. Wednesday you woke up to find your heating had shut off in the night, and you were now shaking fit to break apart. Although maintenance promptly fixed your radiator, you developed an itch in your throat that only grew throughout the day and had developed into a full-blown cough by the next morning.

Which is where you are now on a subzero Thursday morning, ill and irritated and crawling your way towards the end of the week.

Your boyfriend, Chan, talks to you on the phone in soothing tones.

"I'm sorry your week has been so rough, baby," he says, and you can hear the dripping sympathy through the phone. "I know how it feels when little things pile up like that."

"I just don't know if I can take it anymore," you tell him. "It's like I've been cursed. I'm afraid if I walk outside a piano will fall on me and crush me."

You're half-joking when you say that, but Chan can hear that the other half is vaguely on hysterical.

"I don't think anyone is moving pianos in this weather," he says very reasonably. "Just stay away from luxury apartments if you're worried."

You set your bag down and put your face in your hands, taking slow, deep breaths. Your phone is on speaker, and you can hear Chan hum, trying to comfort you even though he's in his own dorm across the city.

"It'll all be okay, Y/n. And I'll see you this weekend, yeah? I'll come over Friday night and you'll have me all to yourself. Just stay strong."

You exhale, long and loud. "You promise?"

"I promise. Be strong for me, babygirl."

You blink the dampness out of your eyes and straighten up. "Okay. I can do that."

"And drink some tea. Your voice sounds kind of rough."

"Don't get me started again, please."

By the time you hang up, you don't feel understood, but you do feel seen. You fill up a thermos with tea, put on your coat, and mentally prepare yourself to leave the apartment.

It's only two more days, you remind yourself. The weekend will fix me. It'll break this curse that's been placed upon me. You force yourself to have a positive outlook. You will not have another bad day. You will be strong.

All day, you force yourself to react to every potentially meltdown-inducing incident with grace and poise. You realize you forgot your lunch and have to eat cheap candy from the vending machine for lunch? That's totally fine. Your boss adds another item to your to list, forcing you to stay later to finish everything and close up? You really don't mind. Your best friend texts you that she's been stalking her ex on Instagram again and you won't believe it but he already has a new girlfriend, y/n, can you fucking believe it, we've only been broken up for like two weeks and he's buying her fucking jewelry, and you respond what an asshole. he has a new gf and he didn't block his ex? while your eye twitches.

By the time you finish all your tasks and close up, your face hurts from holding a smile you don't feel. You're the last one out, so you make sure the building is locked and make your way across the empty parking lot to your car. The forecast predicted snow tonight, and already the ground is littered with white. The flakes are fat and sticky- they're already building up on the undisturbed portions of pavement. You have to quickly brush off your windows and mirrors before you can get into your car, slamming the door behind you.

You made it. You survived. It was a godawful Thursday but you conquered it.

"One more day," you whisper to yourself. "Just one more day."

You lock the door and put the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights up and the engine turns.....and turns....and turns.....

A rock forms in your stomach.

"No," you say. "No no no no no." You twist the key again, but the engine whirs and whirs and whirs...and does not turn over. Your car does not start.

It's not news to you that your car is a piece of shit. You and Chan discuss this almost every night- what to do about this fuckass car. You've been resistant to letting him help you pay for a new one, partially because that's a lot of money and partly because you're sentimentally attached to the old rustbucket. You inherited it from a family member as a birthday gift, and so despite it being less than reliable you're hesitant to seek solutions. It's your first car, after all. It's a part of you now.

In this moment, however, you want to throw all that sentimentally down the drain along with the keys to this absolutely useless fucking rustbucket of a vehicle.

Not to worry, you tell yourself. I'll just call Chan to come get me. We can deal with my car in the morning.

You take out your phone and call him. The call rings out.

You stare at your phone, confused. It's not like him to ignore your calls, especially not at this hour. It's pitch black with winter but it's still arguably early in the night. Chan is likely to still be awake, but it's unlikely he's doing any kind of official task. And it's so late that he would know to answer; you would never call him for something frivolous at this time of night. You call again.

No answer.

Your patience is running thin now. You consider calling your best friend, but she's out of town visiting family. Your other friend, Seohyeon, doesn't have a car, and her boyfriend's car is currently being repaired. The bus you sometimes take is about a fifteen minute walk down the street, but it'll have stopped running this far out by now, so you'd have to walk to a further bus stop and then go to the transportation terminal and connect, which would take over an hour. You could walk to the subway, you think, but you lost your subway card weeks ago and never got around to replacing it, and honestly it just seems like a whole ordeal you can't bring yourself to stomach right now. Chills go down your spine, and you can't tell if it's from the cold or from the increasing precarity of your situation.

You try the engine again. No dice.

You call Chan again. Voicemail again.

You lean your head on the steering wheel and take long, deep breaths. Outside your window, the wind is picking up, making the snow fall at a diagonal instead of straight down. It would be terrible to walk in, especially because the direction you need to go to get home would cause the snow to blow right in your face. Your throat is killing you, but your thermos of tea is long since empty. Maybe you should just go back into the work building and hunker down for the night. Maybe you should sit in the car and turn into an icicle. Your head is a foggy mess, thoughts twisting all around. You're getting hysterical again. You can feel yourself cracking to pieces.

Think, y/n. Who else can you call?

You're all out of people you know personally, but you could call an Uber. It's pricey and arguably unsafe, and you normally wouldn't, but these are extenuating circumstances. It solves the problem of being stranded, and again, you can deal with your car at a later point. And at least when Chan finally calls you back, you'll be safe at home, so he won't have to feel guilty about missing your calls three times.

You lean back in your seat and open the Uber app. Thankfully you still have it installed, and it still has all your info in it from the last time you called someone to take you home. Just as you're about to finish the transaction, your phone freezes. The screen flashes, then goes dark. You press the power button once, then again, frantically.

Your phone is dead.

Immediately, you scramble for your console, searching for a power cable to connect the phone to the car battery. Your cable is gone. You remember, horrified, that you took the cable out of your car because the one in your living room at home had started fraying. You meant to replace it but you never did. You're normally pretty good at leaving the house in the morning with it mostly charged.

But it's nighttime now, and your battery is dead. You have no charging cables, which means you can't call an Uber. You can't call anybody. And you can't even go to the subway now because your debit card is on your phone, so you can't refill your subway card.

A terrible despair fills you.

You have to walk home in a snowstorm.

As soon as the thought materializes, tears start to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to take, would be too much for you even if you'd had a perfectly good day today. This isn't fait. How can this be happening to you? Why is the universe punishing you like this? And when is it going to stop? Again you wish you could just sit in your car and turn into an icicle, let someone else defrost you in the morning. You think having a piano fall on your head would be better than this.

Eventually you manage to get yourself to calm down. Sitting in this car freezing isn't gonna do you any good. It'll only get colder by the hour. You need to walk to the far bus stop and catch another bus before they actually stop running, and you really are stranded instead of just doomed to walk forty minutes in a blizzard.

As if there's a difference, you think bitterly as you put your useless phone into your bag and bundle everything up. You put your gloves back on, and your hat. You step out of your car, slamming the door behind you, and zip up your jacket. Of course, you hadn't thought to wear a scarf today, so your face will just have to freeze. After only 30 seconds you feel your lips cracking.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay okay okay okay."

You set off in the direction of the bus.

-/-

The journey is long and cold. It's not so much the temperature as the fact that you never have the chance to get used to it because it just keeps getting holder as the night wears on. It takes a ridiculously long time to walk to the bus stop, because you're fighting headwind every step of the way. You want to close your eyes against the snow, but if you do that you'll veer off course or fall into the road or trip on an ice slick and die, so you brave the stinging and push forward. Then you wait at the bus stop so long that your already sore feet start to scream with pain. Your phone is dead, so there's no way for you to track the bus, but you conclude you must have just missed the previous one as it takes a full thirty minutes for it to come again. By the time the bus pulls up in front of you, your feet are almost buried, and when you take your seat, every part of you squelches and slides as the snow melts, drenching your clothes.

The bus is at least warm, and so is the transport center, but the second bus drops you off another twenty-five minute walk from your apartment and you're forced to walk- you guessed it!- uphill. Your calves are screaming from the exertion, and from cold, and from keeping your balance as you trudge through the piling snow. You have a death grip on your keys- if they were to fall out somewhere between work and home you would simply lie down on the ground and let the snow bury you. It would be more than you could take. But your keys stay in your tightly clenched fists, and soon your apartment building becomes visible through the dark and haze. You want to cry tears of relief but your tear ducts are frozen shut.

By the time you traipse up the steps of your apartment, you feel more popsicle than person. You are so cold. Your hands shake so much it takes you a few tries to get the keys from your pocket and stick them in the lock. You step inside, sagging as the heat blasts you in the face. All you want to do is collapse into bed and curl under your blankets where the world can't see you, to get a little bit of sleep before your torture begins anew tomorrow. The thought of going to work on Friday strikes a physical pain in you. You've barely survived today, and yet tomorrow looms terrible just out of reach.

You go to turn on the lights only to realize that the lights are already on. Your heart skips a beat. Did someone break into your apartment? Should you turn around and flee? But you don't have a car, and you certainly aren't walking back to the bus stop. You have nowhere to go.

A figure turns the corner and you flinch back, hands half-raised in some pathetic attempt to defend yourself-

It's Chan. He turns the corner and it's your boyfriend, standing on your tile floor in sweats and a big sweater, eyes bright and twinkling with how excited he is to see you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Chan says. "You're finally back. I saw you called earlier and got worried something was wrong."

You burst into tears. You're crying before you even know it, violent sobs that shake you and make water droplets roll off your soaked hair. Salt burns your frozen tear ducts, and snow is slipping down your collar, but all these small discomforts are overshadowed by the pure and all-consuming relief that your boyfriend is here in the flesh, asking after you and taking care of you, and you can finally stop fighting to keep it together. You can rest.

Chan makes a sound of alarm and rushes forward to grab you as you start to list.

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Christ, you look terrible. Are you sick?" He tries to put his hand against your forehead but pulls it away just as fast. "You're cold as ice, y/n."

"I w-walked home," you try to explain. Your tongue is thick in your mouth, and it's hard to get enough air to speak through your sobs. "Car broke down, phone died, b-bus was late."

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry. That sounds terrible."

His validation of your misery just makes you cry harder. Chan pulls you into a fierce hug and you bury your face in his shoulder and absolutely lose it. All the stress of the last week crashes down on you at once, your misery overwhelming you. You grab at his clothes with gloved hands, and there's about four layers of clothes between you, and it's not enough, you want to be closer. But at the same time you can't make yourself pull away from Chan's embrace. He whispers soothing words in your ear, rocks you back and forth, presses closed mouth kisses to any part of you he can reach. He doesn't shush you, or try to calm you down. He just lets you have the emotional release he knows you sorely need.

When your cries start to slow, he gives you one final squeeze to catch your attention, and whispers, "We need to get you out of these clothes, hmm? Does that sound okay?"

You swallow the last of your sobs and nod morosely.

"Okay then. Let's take your jacket off. It's soaking wet by now."

You step back from Chan, still holding on to his arm as you stumble and sway. You're so tired. Standing up for even a second longer is too big of an ask.

"Just lean on me. It's okay, I won't let you fall."

Together, you unfasten and take off your heavy winter coat, letting it fall to the floor with the slush you dragged in. Chan is the one who crouches down to untie your shoes, and you lean on him for support as you remove one foot, then the other.

"Good job," he praises, pressing a kiss to your snow-soaked hair. "Let's get you warmed up now."

He leads you to the bathroom and starts the water running in the tub. You listlessly undress, leaning on the counter for support when you need it. While the tub is filling, Chan tries to leave, but you catch him by the shoulder on his way past you, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," he says. "I just want to get you a change of clothes."

You hesitantly let go of him, and he flashes you a reassuring smile before he slips out. You sit down on the toilet and wait patiently for his return, watching the water fill the tub slowly and feeling your thoughts move sluggishly in your brain.

The sound of the water stopping jolts you back to the present. Chan is back, in a regular t-shirt this time, leaning over the bathtub to make sure the water is the right temperature. Deeming it good enough, he turns back to you and stretches out a hand to you.

As soon as you sit down in the warm water, you feel about ten times better. The warmth unties some of the tension that coils your muscles, and it quells the shivering that had started up as you were sitting on the toilet waiting to be told what to do. Chan urges you to slide down so you're almost submerged, making sure almost all your body is enveloped in warmth, and starts dumping warm water over your head, soaking your hair and washing out the remnants of grime and slush. He's quiet as he does it, humming a low tune, and you close your eyes and let him do as he wants. When he's done, he taps your shoulder, and you sit up, mourning the loss of warmth as your back and chest are exposed to the bathroom air.

"Do you mind?" he asks. You shake his head, uncaring of what he's referring to. You'd let him do anything to you in this state. It turns out "anything" means washing your back, so you again sit still and let him do as he pleases. The pressure of his hands and the sound of his voice, still humming, gradually soothe your mind and body. You stop shivering and tune back into your surroundings.

He's subtly watching your face, so he sees when you come back to yourself and drops his neutral expression. "Back with me?"

You nod. The floaty feelings from being cold and hysterical are gone, but that just means the exhaustion of your day is hitting you full force. You hold out your hand for the washcloth so you can clean the rest of yourself, and he hands it over, but doesn't move to leave, which you appreciate. Now that you're calmer, you think you might be a little more embarrassed asking him to stay.

"I know you said this morning you were cursed, but I didn't think you meant literally," he tries to joke.

You let out a long breath. "I didn't think I meant literally either."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug as you rub the washcloth along your legs, wincing when you remove your still-freezing toes from the water. "What can I say? It was a shit day at work with a shit ending."

"You said your car broke down."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You are not in the mood for this argument. "It just wouldn't start. I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Y/n..." He doesn't say anything more. He knows as well as you do that you'll get nowhere. It's enough to set you off though, now that your exhaustion is making you irritatble.

"It wouldn't have mattered either way if you'd picked up the phone when I called you," you snap. It's unfair and you know it, but before you can begin to feel remorse, Chan's face turns to one of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I still had it silenced from work and didn't realize. When I saw that you called me I tried to call back but the calls didn't go through."

"My phone died. That's why I didn't call an Uber."

Chan shakes his head. "I would call this comical if it wasn't so clearly stressing you out."

"You can still call it comical. Just not within earshot."

"Surely you think better of me than that."

"I do," you say, completely serious. "Sorry. I'm not mad you didn't answer. It's just been a shitty day."

Chan squeezes your shoulder in understanding. "It's alright. I get it."

"I'm really grateful you're here," you say, and you're getting choked up again, emotions all out of whack. "I've never been so happy to see anyone."

"You called three times. Since I couldn't get a hold of you, I hoped you'd still come home and we could talk here."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm exactly as good as you deserve." He leans down to kiss you, long and loving and warm, and the last of the chill in your bones slides away.

-/-

The next morning, Chan calls you in sick before you even wake up. He has to leave for the morning, but comes back around noon with ingredients to make you soup and tea, and rouses you for lunch with all the care and gentleness in the world.  He curls next to you in bed despite your protests that you'll get him sick, but then, it's not like you protest that hard. You're still feverish and needy, and maybe it's not the most ridiculous thing in the world to want to lie in your boyfriend's arms as you recover from what you're pretty sure is mild hypothermia mixed with the flu.

"We were gonna hang out this weekend," you say morosely. "Now I'm trapped in this bed and you're stuck taking care of me."

"Taking care of you is my favorite form of hanging out," he informs you, cleaning away the mug and bowl to bring back to the kitchen. "And hanging up the phone on your boss is my favorite passtime."

"You did not hang up on them," you gasp, hand over your mouth.

Chan shrugs, unbothered. "They seemed a little too annoyed about my request to not tow your car out of the parking lot. I made it very clear that it better be there when you get back on Monday or else."

"So selfless. You could've let them tow it and finally been victorious."

He turns from the kitchen and sits back down on the bed. "You like that car. I'm not going to keep insisting you get rid of it when it means so much to you. Even if I do blame it for the events of yesterday." You glare and he puts his hands up defensively. "If it's not my fault or your fault then I have to blame the car. Sorry not sorry."

"Blame the cursed spirit following me around," you say, sinking miserably into the blankets. "It possessed the engine of my car just to torment me."

"Even more reason to get rid of it."

You're feverish and tired, but the conversation makes you smile nonetheless. "Ask me again when my fever breaks if you still think I should keep it. Maybe it'll burn away the sentimental attachment."

"Don't get my hopes up."

You close your eyes as Chan kisses your forehead, and you slide easily into pleasant dreams.

[lavenderhateswritting]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTj6S4hus/ This is any of the marks if reader doesn’t answer them because they are doing hero stuff or just working btw

Sinester, Eyeless, and Mohawk my loves

Sinister Mark

~ His first reaction when you miss his call is usually to just go wherever you are and "handle" whatever is keeping your attention

~ He has just appeared wherever you are and killed the villain you're fighting or jumped into the conversation you were holding. Sometimes you'll not even notice he's called you until he is just standing in front of you

~ He doesn't care if you find it weird either he actually finds it annoying that you made him take the extra effort to have to come find you. Could he just text you and wait for you to finish what you're doing? Of course, but he's never going to do that.

"Why didn't you answer my call" he was standing in front of you with his arms crossed covered head to toe in blood. He hadn't even had the decency to change into his superhero suit. "I was busy fighting the monster you just gutted" he looked over at the creature who he had just ripped the heart of as if it was nothing. "Don't be ridicoluos that thing was like an ant you could have finished this fight in 5 minutes." He looked huffy even though the last time you said that he threw a fit. "Cecil wanted to take this thing in alive." "Yeah well I wanted to talk to my partner and not have to come out here to the middle of nowhere." Sometimes this man pushed you to your limits. "Fine what did you need Mark" He looked at you without a hint of irony or shame and said : "I wanted to know if you wanted me to get Chinese food before you came home"

Eyeless Mark (20/20)

~ Such a whiny brat.

~ He stews in whatever made him mad and when you ignore his phone calls he definitely just sits at home stewing in how you've ignored him and how he's basically nothing to you.

~ You will come home to the silent treatment and passive agressive bullshit that you're going to have to be super nice to him and suck up to him to get him out of it.

"Mark, come on. I said I was sorry." You watched as he continued to fold his arms and ignore you. "I was working, and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm sorry." The fucker just picked up the remote sitting next to him and turned up the volume higher. "Really, silent treatment. Can we please act like adults?" Still nothing. This is how it went for the rest of the day until dinner. You tried your hardest, you begged, you bribed, and even did the silent treatment back, but Mark still ignored you. So you decided to bring out the big guns. He was back to sitting in front of the TV watching a show, but you could tell that you caught his attention when you walked into the room. You walked over to stand directly in front of him and then slid yourself onto his lap. "Mark," you kissed him on his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't answer you." You kissed him on his forehead. " It won't happen again, I promise." You kissed him on the lips. He accepted it gladly, and he gripped your waist and pulled you even closer to him. He popped away from the kiss with a line of spit connecting the two of you. He smirked. "I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you." He inched his hands further up and leaned in for a kiss, and then you pulled away and stood up

"Well, that's good." "Y/N, wait, where are you going?" He stood up to and watched you as you walked toward the front door. "Oh, I was gonna go eat out for dinner, didn't feel like cooking. I'm so glad we could make up, though, bye Mark." You opened the door and walked out. "Wait, I'll come with."

Mohawk Mark

~ Yeah, he's the type to leave you a voicemail, cursing you out.

~ Because why the fuck would you ever act like you can just not pick up his phone call? He will scream into the phone like a crazy person, and it will freak everyone out.

~ He will not scream that much at you. If anything, he did it because he thought it was funny and not because of any genuine anger.

"Oh fuck Mark called me while we were fighting." You were covered in sweat, and heaving even though Eve looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat. "Damn and he left a voicemail." "Oh, what did he say?" She leaned over your shoulder and watched as you clicked on the voicemail your boyfriend had sent you. "Y/N. DON'T YOU EVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE THINK THAT YOU CAN HAND UP ON ME YOU SON OF A BITCH. PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE." The line went dead, and you and Eve just stared at each other. "You should probably call him." "Yeah," You stared at the phone in silence as you called Mark until he picked up. "Hi Mark, what did you need?" You heard him shuffling around, and then the sound of him shoveling something in his mouth. "There are no more chips; you should pick some up on your way home." "That's all?" "Yep, see ya."

[luveline]

hiyaa girlyy!! so i have a fic request and it's totally fine if you don't want to write / don't feel comfortable reading or doing it: and also, i'm not sure if someone thought of this yet, but how about spencer just being friends with a stripper. like their are murders ongoing abt strippers and spencer sees reader at one of the crime scènes and everybody's shocked since their sooo sweet and comfortable together? (and bonus point if she wears his jacket or something since it's cold)

thank you for your request! if you have more requests for this pairing please send them my way!

"I tried to call you!" 

Hotch looks up from his phone at the shout. He'd been texting Jessica one handed in an attempt to tell her and Jack that he won't be home tonight, and he isn't usually easily startled, but he isn't expecting you to talk to him. Or call him. 

He blinks back his fatigue —you're obviously not talking to him. You're almost nondescript in your hoodie, but Hotch isn't confident you're wearing any pants, or underwear. It was a rush job to bring everyone out from the club, and you and the rest of the dancers stand on the sidewalk in various states of undress. 

"Can we get some jackets, please?" Hotch asks, turning back to the beat cops standing by. "Thermal blankets? Anything?" 

When he turns back, Spencer's not where he was. Hotch casts his gaze back to you near the club doors, your hair messed up from the scuffle but your face intricate and untouched, just as pretty as the rest of your fellow dancers, and doubly so as you throw your arms around Spencer Reid's tall shoulders. 

"I'm so glad you're okay," Spencer says, squeezing you hard, your heels lifting off of the rain-sullied sidewalk. "I told you to stay home!" 

"I can't stay home, Spencer. How would I make money?" 

"I'll pay for the hours you miss, I told you that, too." 

"Baby, you couldn't afford it," you tease lightly, setting back down. Your hand immediately rises to Spencer's cheek, your painted nails scratching delicately at his skin. "I've missed you. Where have you been?" 

"California, then Albuquerque." 

"Killing bad guys?" 

Hotch doesn't consider Spencer a lonely guy, and he doesn't think he'd ever be collected enough to enter a strip club, and yet. There he is, hugging and checking over a stripper with as much care and tenderness as he'd show any member of the team. And judging by your smile, you're enamoured with him. Whether romantically or otherwise is anyone's guess. 

Morgan's, apparently. "Sorry, I'm sorry, does Reid have a girlfriend? Like, a…?" 

"You can say stripper," Emily says, though she's similarly nonplussed. "I mean, there's no way. Right?" 

"They're just friends," JJ says. 

The team turns to her in betrayal. Clearly, JJ knew about this and said nothing, and Hotch has things to do but this is so thoroughly bizarre that he gives himself five minutes of curiosity; he lets the others berate her for answers. 

"Come on, JJ! When did this happen? How did this happen?" Emily asks, her voice dropping to a scandalised whisper. 

In the background, Spencer peels out of his jacket that barely fits around your shoulders. You wear it anyhow, wrapping your arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. "Thanks, Dr. Reid." 

"I really wish you'd stay home when I tell you too." He rubs your arm amicably. 

"Her old boss was a typical heavy-handed sleaze," JJ explains, voice soft with sympathy. "Spence said he used to see her at the grocery store with bruises. She stayed with him for a few days and found a new club… He said she can smile through anything, even a broken wrist." 

Hotch understands. This part of Virginia pretends to be better than it is, and while you seem happy enough now in your profession, he knows it can't be easy. Spencer did for you what he would've done for anyone. You've clearly seen the good in him, treating him with a real and easy affection, adoring through shivers as you look up at him and ask, "Are you eating enough? You look tired." 

"I'm exhausted worrying about you. You're exhausting. Like, where are the sweatpants I got you? You'll get hypothermia." 

"I was trying not to get murdered. You're lucky I grabbed the hoodie." You turn to the team, as though you've known they were watching the entire time. "You wanna introduce me to your friends?" you ask. Hotch detects a hint of insecurity under all your bubbly sweetness. 

Spencer laughs loudly, ushering you forward with a hand on your shoulder. "Don't chicken out this time." 

"Don't embarrass me in front of the special agents!" you whisper. 

"I'm a special agent." 

"No, you're a doctor. He's a special agent." Your gaze narrows in on Hotch. "Hi, you're the boss, huh?" You eye his naked marriage finger briefly, and he knows you're kidding, but he still has to fight to stay expressionless as you continue, "How come handsome guys like you don't ever wanna see me dance?" 

Hotch puts out his hand. "Aaron Hotchner. It's nice to meet you." 

You shake his hand, though you stay as close to Spencer as you can manage without stepping on his shoes. "Right. Too respectful. It's really nice to meet you too, Agent Hotchner. Can you catch the bad guy soon? I'll end up on Spencer's cough again if I don't make rent." 

Morgan opens his mouth and Hotch promptly shuts him down with a raised hand. "We will. You have my word." 

[leriexoxo]

ESCAPE

PART ONE

"You're always down to be a slut for the two hottest men alive..."

pairing: Chan x reader x Hyunjin

tags: m/m/f, man on man action, smut, 18+ MDNI (I won't ruin it by putting all the tags, let's have the element of surprise)

word count: 1.6k

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One

You fought the urge to slink around Hyunjin’s apartment like a scaredy cat.

I have the right to be here, you thought to yourself as you tiptoed down the hall from Hyunjin’s bedroom to the apartment’s bathroom, embarrassed by your own shyness.

You hated it when your friend with benefits had roommates. You’d much rather be breezing through the house in a silk robe and lingerie, waiting tits-out and shameless for your latest fling to come home from class.

College life, however, had stolen many joys from you, one of which was the luxury of complete privacy during your hookups. The only place you could have your tits out here was the shower, or in Hyunjin’s room with the door closed.

You couldn’t remember the last time you visited anyone your own age – regular friends included- with their own apartment. No; it was always some two-to-five-bedroom bullshit with communal bathrooms, standard dorm kitchens that were always a chaotic mess of protein bars and boxed mac, decor- if there were any- an ugly mixture of different styles and tastes.

Hyunjin wasn’t like that, though, you assured yourself. Besides the fact that you hadn’t stooped as low as fucking in a bunk bed since your friend with benefits arrangement started over a year ago, Hyunjin was a legacy alumnus at your university, which meant he was old money.

His apartment, unsurprisingly, was nice, for what it was -– it smelled like boys in there, and the fridge was barren save for several cans of beer and an ancient bowl of Kimchi, but it was pretty clean. The rooms were spacious, there was great lighting, the shower had fantastic water pressure which you made good use of once or twice, and he only had one roommate –- some studious music major who apparently was also a legacy student that you had yet to run into during your countless visits thus far.

All-in-all, Hyunjin’s place was a far cry from some of the absolutely wretched places you’d deigned fit to get laid.

Anyway.

You reached the bathroom, its door was slightly ajar, so you pushed it open with your phone and a towel in hand. A message from Hyunjin lit up the screen, the text preview gleaming with a handful of stupid, cute emojis and a private image attachment. You smirked – maybe waiting for him to come home won’t be so boring after all –

“Ah,” came a voice directly in front of you, from just beyond where your vision had tunneled onto your screen.

You yelped and lost your grip on your phone, fumbling until it fell from your grasp.

“Fuck!” you swore, panic rendering you at a loss for more eloquent words, because standing in front of you was –must’ve been – Hyunjin’s roommate. You’d caught him shaving in front of the foggy bathroom mirror, razor in hand, half his chin still coated in a fine white foam.

But it wasn’t his sharp pointed nose or cutting jawline that had you sputtering, seconds away from erupting in a nosebleed. It was the fact that he was not wearing a fucking shred of clothing besides an absolutely tiny towel around his waist – his freaking waist; lithe, v-line defined and prominent, pale in the light of the bathroom lamp, with beads of water shimmering at the curve of his hipbone, across the lightest dusting of brown hair trailing down his tight muscled stomach. That had to be a 6 pack or more...

“Sorry,” you said, quickly averting your eyes and backing out of the doorway. “Oh, my god...”

“No, no...” said the roommate, “I’m sorry, I-”

“Didn’t think anyone was in here, my bad-” you rambled on.

“No, I thought no one was home-” he said almost at the same time, looking comical with half his face covered in shaving cream.

“I’m so sorry, I’m gonna go...”

And you turned on your heels and ran, cheeks flaming with heat. Hyunjin’s room wasn’t far, and you slammed his door behind you with a panicked huff, your heart hammering.

Jesus Christ.

You were shaking, and it wasn’t as if you were a quaking virgin, or anything; the man in the bathroom wasn’t the first beautiful, almost-naked person you’d ever seen, or even the first person (or persons) you’d accidentally barged in on in a state of undress. It’s just that you’d been vividly picturing Hyunjin’s roommate as a scrawny, socially-awkward shut-in wearing ill-fitting cargo shorts and a polo – but definitely not a half-naked, unbelievably, sexy brunette.

“What’s your roommate like?” you remembered asking Hyunjin one evening as you lazed around in his bed together.

You had asked mostly to get his attention, not because you particularly cared. Hyunjin had rolled his eyes, casting his phone aside to intertwine his hand with yours, bringing it up to his lips, and kissing it.

“He’s, like, boring,” he’d said against the back of your hand. “A dork, to be honest. Very academic. He can be a menace when he wants to, though.”

And you, more than a little distracted by the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips brushing against the delicate skin of your inner wrist... then, your arm... then, your collarbone- you’d dropped the subject, opting instead to pull Hyunjin down for a sloppy kiss.

Your fucking mistake, because you were woefully unprepared for–

The gentle sound of a knock behind you cut off your train of thoughts,

You froze; eyes wide as you whirled around to face the door. You knew it was Hyunjin’s roommate.

What could he want? wasn’t he also embarrassed? Shouldn’t he have been busy flaming Hyunjin in a text message, demanding to know why he left his hookup hidden around the house like a land mine–

“Your phone,” came a muffled voice from outside. “You left your phone in the bathroom.”

Shit. You tapped around your empty pockets. Shit!

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, forcing your body to relax into a casual stance before you opened the door.

“Oh,” you said, feigning nonchalance. “Thanks.”

Hyunjin’s roommate, thank God, had dressed himself. He wore a crisp pair of gray sweatpants and a spotless white tank top that clung to the defined muscles of his chest. His hair was still damp; purposely mussed up in free curls at the top of his head, but neat. Faintly, you realized that he smelled good, clean and masculine and woodsy –you wondered what kind of aftershave he used.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said, extending his hand and holding out your phone. Christ, he had fucking pretty and large hands -– elegant and strong-looking, like he played some sort of instrument –-

“I’m Chan. I know who you are, but we haven’t met. Here’s your phone.”

You took it wordlessly, slipping it into the pocket of your sleep shorts.

“Thanks,” you offered again, fighting to keep your voice from sounding strangled. “Chan. Sorry for barging in on you like that, earlier. You didn’t scare me, Hyunjin just didn’t mention you’d be here...”

“Oh, he’s bad at communicating,” Chan cut you off, smiling wryly. “I won’t hold that against you at all.”

You were momentarily taken aback, but you couldn’t deny that what Chan said wasn’t true –- you weren’t sleeping with Hyunjin for his superb communication skills. Other than what could only be described as dick appointment scheduling texts and the occasional filthy one-liners or tasteful nudes, Hyunjin wasn’t the best at keeping up a conversation. Not that you needed to talk much when you-

“Bathroom’s all yours, anyway,” Chan said, turning away. “It’s nice to finally meet you y/n.”

You were completely thrown off balance, he even knew your name? Just what had Hyunjin told him about you.

As usual when you met someone you found attractive, you had the raging urge to show off, unsheathe your charms, flirt a little. okay maybe a lot. But this was a bit too much -– you slept poorly (by choice, of course; Hyunjin didn’t sleep well either, given that you spent most of the night fucking each other senseless), you and Chan got off to an incredibly awkward start, and you hadn’t even had your morning coffee yet-

“Had breakfast yet?” Chan called from down the hall.

There was a pause in your racing thoughts. Breakfast?

Here?

You had planned to go hungry today, maybe swing by one of many campus cafes before your afternoon seminar, treating yourself with a cold brew and some indulgent, flaky pastry. You weren’t really the type to stick around for breakfast, nor were the people you hooked up with really the types to ask you to stay. Hyunjin, for all his charms, certainly wasn’t. You had only just started spending the night recently.

“Uh, no?” you called back, tentatively. Maybe he wasn't even talking to you. “Not yet.”

Now in the kitchen, Chan said something that you couldn’t quite make out. You heard the opening and closing of cabinets as you slipped out of Hyunjin’s room, clutching your towel and mulling Chan’s words over in your mind.

Breakfast?

You entered the bathroom, standing before the sink’s mirror which was still slightly foggy, you undressed and decided to shower as quickly as possible.

You felt your cheeks flush as the hot water hit your back, and you lathered up your hair with a pump of Hyunjin’s shampoo. You wanted to get back out there to see what Chan was up to. His behavior was mystifying. Great lays or not, you could count the number of people who had made you breakfast after a hookup on one hand.

Not that you had even hooked up with Chan.

Yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: Hi! so, I'm doing it, I'm writing unit fics based on the latest tracks and what better place to start if not for Escape? heheheheh! if you liked this then hold on for the next chapter, ill upload as fast as I can.

leave a like, comment and make sure to reblog

[nakylvr]

okey but how about transmasc x dani where they were meant to have a cute date and reader was gonna pick up dani but gets trapped in a rain storm so when he gets to dani’s places he’s soaked and shaking and dani takes him in so he van shower and warm up and when he comes out in a towel it does something to dani… maybe she could try and lend him so clothes but her tiny rank tops just don’t seem to fit so she gives him one of her emo ass zip up hoddies without anything under and it just sends dani into a spiral and they end up having a heated make out session

decided to make this a lil thing i couldn't help it 🤓

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, transmasc!reader, suggestive content

it had been over fifteen minutes past when you were supposed to arrive. daniela sat on the couch of the house, hearing the rain pattering on the roof and watching the news say it was only going to get worse as the day progressed. the last text she got from you was that you were on your way, but it should only take ten minutes to get to the house.

letting out a sigh of irritation, she turns off the tv and looks at her phone. just as she was swiping to your contact, the doorbell rang. she sprang to her feet, quickly moving towards the front door and opening it to see you standing there. her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you — you're drenched in rain water as you stand in front of her, your hair clinging to your head and visibly shaking.

"hey," you say, an awkward, tired smile on your face.

"jesus christ, get in here." daniela pulls you inside the house, closing the door behind you. "you're soaked. did you not think to check the weather?"

"i didn't think it was going to rain," you respond.

"that's a no then." she shakes her head. "just come with me." she grabs your hand and starts walking to her room.

you follow behind her without saying anything, walking to her room and stopping once you enter. she turns and looks at you, pointing to the bathroom.

"take a shower, you're probably freezing," she tells you. "manon is gone for the rest of the night, so it's just me."

"i'm fine." you shake your head, still clearly shaking.

daniela doesn't even say anything, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. you sigh quietly, not bothering to try and argue with her as you slowly head to the bathroom.

it isn't until you get out of the shower that you realize you didn't have any clothes to change into, the pile of your wet clothes laid on the floor still. once drying yourself off, you wrap the towel around your waist before stepping out of the bathroom.

daniela looks up from her phone when she hears the door open, and her eyes widen subtly when she sees you.

"uh, i don't have any clothes to wear," you say awkwardly, standing in the doorway. you can't tell if the look on her face is good or bad, given this is the first time this kind of situation has happened, and it worries you a little bit when it takes her a moment to respond.

daniela's trying not to stare. really, she's trying. but she can't stop herself from looking at you, eyes trailing down before she processes what you said, her eyes snapping back up to your face. "i can probably find you something," she finally says, getting off her bed and going to her drawer a little too fast.

you're still unable to tell what her reaction meant, still standing where you were as she rummages through her clothes trying to find you something to wear. you can hear her huffing occasionally and grumbling under her breath before she finally gets up and walks over to you.

"here. this should fit you." she hands you a zip-up hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, trying to keep her eyes on your face rather than trailing down like they unconsciously kept doing.

you raise an eyebrow at her, sensing something off about her, but you can't seem to pinpoint what. "just a hoodie?" you question, but grab both articles of clothing.

"you and i both know my tank tops won't fit you," daniela responds. "just put it on."

nodding your head, you go back into the bathroom and put on the clothes. stepping back out with the sweatpants and hoodie on, zipped up only a little bit showing that there was nothing underneath it. you could see daniela's expression change again, but you can't tell what she's thinking.

"are you okay?" you ask, approaching the bed.

daniela doesn't respond for a moment, her eyes staring at you as you walk up to her sitting on the edge of her bed. the way you effortlessly look this good does something to her. seeing you barely fit in one of her hoodies and the sweatpants hugging your waist a little too tight, she can feel the heat rushing to her cheeks and neck the longer she stares.

receiving no response from her has you feeling a bit self-conscious. you don't know what she's thinking just staring at you, and even though you've been with her for a while including intimate moments, you can't help but feel the thoughts roaming in your head. instinctively, you grab the zipper and start zipping up the hoodie more to cover your chest and scars. "sorry," you mumble.

daniela's eyes go wide the second the apology leaves your mouth and you start zipping the hoodie up, her hands instantly grabbing yours to stop you. "no, no, it's okay," she quickly says, snapped out of her daze. "it's so okay, i can't believe you look this good in my hoodie."

your cheeks heat up at her words, glancing down and seeing her pull your hand down to slowly unzip the hoodie back to where it was. when your eyes meet hers, your breath hitches in your throat at the look in them. a look you had seen before, and you knew what it meant.

"you're so hot, baby," she says before pulling you down onto the bed with her, making you let out a gasp of surprise.

supporting yourself on your elbows, daniela lays beneath you on her back, staring up at you with such intensity that you swear your heart stops beating for a second. without another word, the latina grasps your nape, pulling you down and kissing you roughly.

your lips slide against hers messily, teeth clashing together with desperation and need seeping from both of you. daniela's fingers play with your hair on the back of your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. pulling away to breathe, you move to her neck, starting to leave wet kisses and sucking on the skin to leave marks soon to show. she lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head to the side to give you more access.

"i love you s' much," you mumble into her neck, biting gently and leaving another mark.

"i love you too," she replies breathlessly.

finally parting from her neck, you look down at her as she looks back up at you. she smiles, her hands moving to cup your face.

"i love you," she whispers.

"i love you more," you say in the same voice.

"liar," she giggles.

"uh-uh." you shake your head, leaning down and kissing her again.

[tarnishedtwill]

Nevarran Culture

Nevarran Surnames – It is remarked briefly in a codex that most Nevarran surnames are three syllables. This seems to be true with the majority we are exposed to in game: Pentaghast, Van Markham, Hezenkoss, Volkarin, Anaxas & Tanhausen to name a few examples. However we do see an exception with the Blackthorne’s and Forsythia families. Blackthorne’s notably adopted their surname from the land that was gifted to them, and Forsythia which [has four syllables] doesn’t seem to have any information alluding to them not being originally from Nevarra. 

Nevarran Features – From looking at a handful of known Nevarran characters [Emmrich, Cassandra, Myrna, & Tessa] It seems that generally speaking, most Nevarrans tend to have dark hair, often black, as well as brown to green eyes. [Hazel seems quite recurring.]  This of course is not always the case, but it seems to be quite prevalent. Likewise it seems that olive complexions seem to be quite common in the region.

[Death Watch] Beetles –The imagery of beetles can be found amidst Nevarran motifs. Fitting in amongst the geometric shapes well. Perhaps thats where the fascination first rose. Hard in Hightown mentions the use of encrusted wings being used decoratively by the Nevarrans. Boxes of Beetles can be found in the Black Emporium [DAII] with the following Codex [Crate of Live Death Watch Beetles] The Death Watch Beetle is thought to fortell death, and thusly has become prized. Sometimes families go as far as keeping one caged in their homes as good luck. Insect symbols are also used throughout the Grand Necropolis, necromancers state they, “Honor the work of the humblest creatures in our funerary rites.”  While this may be true looking at longstanding traditions in Nevarra including oftentimes vegetarianism, the codex goes on to provide a more clear idea on beetles. It states that Nevarran found a kind of beetle that consumes flesh of the dead [i.e. a carrion beetle] This leaves behind only the skeleton, insects like this are probably valuable in the grand necropolis to expedite decay processes and keep things ‘cleanly’. Emmrich notes [codex: ‘on beetles’] that the Watchers have bred ‘fascinating variations’ of the beetles, I find it so interesting that they rely on nature for this process instead of using magic as part of ritual. It’s unclear if these are specifically the death watch beetles mentioned in Hard in Hightown, but it is interesting to see the beetle motif surface in so many ways within Nevarran culture. [I also personally find several of the Mourn Watch insignias to look like stylized beetles.]

Hexagons– Alright, so I would adore anyone who may have additional insight, but now with the nearly completely decoded Nevarran script I feel comfortable to make this assertion, but the Hexagon has some type of cultural significance to Nevarran culture, it features not only in things like architecture and clothing [even the chains on Emmrich's outfit are hexagonal links] but also things like, every mourn watch symbol I have run across fits into a hexagonal outer silhouette not to mention the script of the Nevarran language’s alphabet fits neatly into a hex-base as well. I am trying to dig for design notes on this, but I don’t have access to the artbook. If anyone knows more I’d love the insight.

Cuisine – With the evidence provided by a menu in Rivain, referring to ordering a dish meatless as Nevarran, and several dialogue and text mentions of Emmrich not eating meat [though cheese seems fine]. It can be assumed its pretty common practice in Nevarra to be vegetarian. This makes sense if you look at their cultural reverence for dead and the importance of the body in their burial rites, probably paints eating the bodies of creatures in a different light. To us what is simply meat, is probably seen as mild desicration. Emmrich even goes as far to state: each Watcher must decide what they wll and won't take a life for. Though it is probably common for Nevarrans to think this way and partake in vegitarian based diets, I also would argue this could be in part class based as well. We know that Emmrich grew up in a poor family, and his father was a butcher. A butcher in Nevarra. This implies that despite the pervasiveness of things like no meat options being referred to as 'Nevarran', and there being cultural significance to how they percieve meat and death, people in Nevarra are still in fact eating meat with enough demand that a butcher was a feasable occupation. This also could imply perhaps meat is seen as a lower-class consumable, and being able to sustain a vegitarian diet with more diverse ingredients a privilege. Known dishes include: Blood Orange Salad, Flatbread [similar to a pita], and Hazlenut Torte. Nevarrans also take great pride in aesthetic presentation and plating of food, often displaying it quite beautifully and with care.

Grave Mist– With the appearance of a churning cloud within a bottle, Grave Mist is magically infused vapors. It is captured near tombs where spirits dwell, and has some type of intoxicating nature to it. We don’t know if its more along the lines of inebriation or hallucination, but Emmrich notes that while he personally doesn’t partake, he hears it’s effects are quite invigorating.

Duchess's Games- Held at the Anaxas estate in the Summertime, in which scholars from Cumberland test their wit against those of the Free Marches in debates. [often times over philosophy and rhetoric], usually taking place over tea with the Duchess Ravria Anaxas. 

Hunt Balls- Nevarran high society awakens each Winter, while other areas of Thedas brace for the cold. Winter is historically speaking one of the best times to conduct dragon hunts, as the cold weather causes them to be sluggish and stick closer to their hordes. As a society that celebrates the hunt of these magnificent beasts ‘Hunt Balls’ gained prominence quite early in their history. A chance for these nobles and ‘heroes’ to show off their mighty kills. Traditionally the great halls would be decorated with rather gruesome displays of the slain dragon, perhaps is heart or head the focal point. Now, with the scarcity of dragons to hunt, the balls have become more of a cultural metaphor. A display of passion amidst the cold winter, symbolizing the thrill of the chase, couples dress in armor and flowing red cloth and dance with fervor and passion to symbolize the hunt.

Additional note on Winter in Nevarra, the Minanter river is known to completely freeze over. It is a common site to see people skating along its surface, with vendors set up along the banks selling hot spiced teas, and roasted nuts.

Wintersend – A wide spread Andrastian holiday, originally called “Urthalis” [named after the draconic Old God of beauty Urthemiel], and since has been transformed in to a celebration of the Maker. It signifies for most throughout Thedas, the end of Winter and beginning of Spring. In Nevarra it begins a series of contexts and tournaments primarily focused on archery and tests of arms. Also note, Emmrich’s mom apparently made a Hazlenut Torte every Windersend.

Nevarran Statues/ Ancestral Pageants – While the finest statues and displays of pageantry happen in the Castrum Draconis, it is said that Nevarran statues honoring it’s heroes and ancestors extend out from the city, to the streets of even the meanest villages and even in to the gilded streets of Cumberland. Each autumn, residents of Nevarra city hold lavish pageants to honor these ancestors. Families are known to drape statues in colorful cloths often in their house colors, and lanterns are lit along the streets to illuminate them. Actors [paid in copper coins, which is specifically noted and an odd detail] are hired to recreate and perform stories and exploits of the heroes. The nobility are often known to compete over the best displays, notably the Pentaghasts and Van Markhams. It is to be noted that the Mortalitasi of the Grand Necropolis are also known to perform autumn rites at this time, ‘according to rumor’, it’s unknown if theirs are open to the public. I unfortunately have not run across a name for this festival/pageant.

Nevarran Spirit Philosophy- This is one of the main reasons that the Nevarran people choose to entomb and mummify their dead versus cremation, which is the more common form of ritual throughout Thedas. The idea is that once dead, a persons soul passes into the fade. This causes a spirit to then be displaced into the world, if mummified remains are nearby this gives the spirit a safe place to reside without risk of corrupting/turning. It’s a concept of balance, some scholars argue wether or not death is a 1:1 transaction across the fade. Emmrich states [codex: The Great Passage] that spirits have difficulty grasping the concept of quantities let alone numbers. Also that, no one knows a way to effectively tally both spirits in the fade, and people in the world, to ever entirel prove or disprove this theory. Nevertheless this is the concept at the heart of most Mortalitasi ideology, it is woven into the very folklore of Nevarra. The higher dead may be a melding of a spirit with the memories of the soul who came before– or even able to retain their souls.

Grave Dowry- It’s mentioned when asked why Emmrich wears so much gold that it is considered a custom called grave dowry. This is reinforced by the fact that if Mourn Watch Rook selects gold as their favourite color (conditional), the dialogue continues as Emmrich asks them if they have started their collection of grave gold yet. To which Rook responds they ‘have to decide which pieces are good enough for eternity’. If Rook is not a watcher and chooses gold, Emmrich replies by saying, ‘The Watchers wear grave gold in acknowledgement of our own deaths.’ [This implies that gold and opulence worn by members of the Mortalitasi is ritual. Its seen as something with foresight to have in death. This is very much so akin to grave good practices seen throughout the ancient world: think Mycenae, Egypt, or even Bulgaria <see Varna Necropolis>] Another codex [Aurum Profundis] mentions a passage from Prelate Vestalus Pentaghast remarking, “Gold is the eternal metal, and the sun beneath our vaults. It was first worked by our ancestors in tribute to the dead, and only Nevarra appriciates it’s sacred nner nature. Silver will tarnish, copper corrode and iron rust. Gold endures as our dead endure, and will ever adorn the inhabitants of the Necropolis.” I find that this quote perfectly captures the ideology and watcher sensibilities towards gold and the concept of dowry. It however is unclear if this is an ideology throughout Nevarra or just a tithe within the Mortalitasi.

This is my first post of several. I have been taking close notes deep diving Nevarra, the Mortalitasi, and the Grand Necropolis. I will be organizing them on my page under the tag Nevarran lore, If missed any key details or got anything wrong please by all means let me know, I want to make this as good as possible and would be happy to correct. Both for a resource for fic writers but also knowledge for my fellow lore nerds. More will be posted soon as feel sections become complete or mostly complete.

Update Edits:

Added information about Hexagons & the Nevarran Language.

Removed a section of lore on Recruitment as I found the citation to be unbacked and probably fanon.

Insight on why Butchers would be in Nevarra.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 12

Synopsis: You send Jason home, but he’s still worried about you.

Note: Last filler chapter for a minute. Reader and Jason have lost all sense of what normal platonic touching is but it’s fine.

Masterlist

Jason did stay another night. He had offered to sleep on the couch this time, claiming your bed was too small for the both of you. You had just rolled your eyes and said he would be sleeping in your bed with you, claiming that it would be like a sleepover (it gave you more sense of security if he was close). Secretly, he was grateful for your insistence. He hadn’t slept the night before, like at all. He spent the night next to you worried something else would happen, despite knowing nothing would. You seemed worried about the same thing, mumbling in your sleep, face scrunching and relaxing randomly. You woke a few times, a terrible look of terror on your features. But Jason was there. He’d pull you close, petting your hair and murmuring to you about how you were safe, and you would drift back off into a fitful sleep. He’s not sure you even remember it.

He had checked in with the family first thing in the morning after he found his phone full of spammed text messages and phone calls. Mostly from Steph, shockingly. She seemed extremely concerned about you like you were friends. That’s when she told him that she had also been visiting you at work, a kinship forming from there. She’s not just yours Jason, you have to share, she had messaged in complaint. He scoffed at the statement but conceded with keeping everyone posted after that. He had one text from Bruce. We need to talk. No doubt about how the news was broadcasting that Red Hood was back in his murder phase.

After you had woken up, you looked worse for wear but less terrified. He enjoyed having you close, it seemed you need it just like him. You would relax against him, and he would stare at you, like a creep. You seemed less fitful in your sleep on the couch. He kept his touch on you, your legs, for your peace of mind, not his. At least that’s what he told himself. Jason liked taking care of people, it's why he protected Crime Alley and the surrounding areas the way he did. It’s what he’s known since he was young, with his mom. She was so out of it most of the time, what else could he do but take care of her? He likes to think that his mom (the one he rarely met when she wasn’t hyped up on drugs) would have liked you.

At the close of the evening, only 7 o’clock, you dragged him to your room and shuffled into your bed, apologizing that you didn’t have any clothes that would fit him more comfortably to sleep. He shook off the notion and settled on top of the covers like the night before. You were on your side watching.

“You know you can sleep under the covers. I won't mind,” especially because you won't do anything. You add mentally because if Jason wanted something sexual from you, he would’ve taken it last night when you were barely conscious of what was happening around you. You want him to be comfortable while you keep him trapped in your home.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Sweetheart.” He crosses his arms as he settles on his back against his pillow. You think he almost looks like a mummy.

“Jason,” your voice is stern in a way he isn’t used to, “get under the covers.” Not a question, not an offer, but a demand. He glances over at you and finds a serious look on your face, no room for argument. It makes him smile. You had seemed out of it still throughout the day, but he was happy to see some notion of your old self showing. Your eyebrows lift like this is some challenge and who is Jason to say no to that? He shuffles under your covers, worrying briefly if he’s a blanket hog, or a bed hog simply because of his size. You don’t seem worried about it all as you curl against him like you had the night before, holding his arm and pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

Then you start talking. You complained momentarily that you should have brushed your teeth before you had gotten into bed and apologized if it smelled like the Chinese you had ordered for dinner. Then you complained that you hadn’t washed your face and done your skincare. Jason was about to offer to do it for you, but you kept going. You rambled on about the Gotham weather and how it sometimes felt bone-chillingly cold even in summer, and you thought maybe Gotham was cursed or haunted. You started talking about Jason, about how pleased you were that he liked romance movies and musicals. You would have to show him La La Land, even though that movie made you cry every time. You didn’t say why it had made you cry but you cried when you had finished The Notebook earlier in the evening, so he didn’t question it. Instead, you followed a tangent about how La La Land was a tragedy but not like Romeo and Juliet. Then you followed a tangent about Shakespeare.

The rest of the evening was like that. You would follow a random line of thought that would form into another and another. Your voice stayed soft, only speeding up and getting just a little louder if there was something that excited you before toning back down again. You would pause for a moment before going back to a thought you had left unfinished. He wondered if you were blocking, trying not to sleep out of fear of what you might find. He knew that feeling, woken up by nightmares of that stupid clown and dirt engulfing his lungs. If this gave you peace of mind, then it gave him some peace of mind. He liked your voice. The cadence of it, the way you lilted some words, and how some of them slurred as you got drowsier and drowsier. Soon enough, your pauses became longer until you stopped mid-sentence. He waited, thinking you would start back up again but after a while, you didn’t.

He glanced down at where your face was pressed to his shoulder. At some point, your hand had moved from curled around his forearm to lacing it with his hand, he can feel your fingers twitch as you sleep. Your features were relaxed, lips parted slightly, soft even breaths escaping you. He leans over and presses a too long kiss to the crown of your head; your hand tightens subconsciously in his own. Jason decides to be selfish, just for tonight. He turns on his side to face you, carefully slipping your head from his shoulder to your pillow. He pulls the covers up and over both of your shoulders. His hand slides to your back and pulls you close. His other hand lightly pressing your face to his neck and he just holds you. A sigh escapes you and your arm slithers over his own waist, hugging in your sleep. Your warmth bleeds into Jason in a way he’s not used to.

You were right about Gotham’s perpetual cold, like a ghost breathing down your neck. But here, holding you like this, the cold didn’t exist. Only warmth and deep breaths do. For the first time in years, Jason’s body genuinely relaxes. Every alarm, trained into him by Bruce, the league, and his own self-preservation, shuts off. He just focuses on your breathing. In and out, in and out, steady. He presses another kiss on your head and makes an internal promise. He would tell you the truth, sooner rather than later. He’d tell you everything, about Red Hood, about his feelings for you, even if it meant you would hate him. He was going to tell you but first, he’d wait for you to get back on your feet, back into a normal rhythm of life. With that thought and your body closed, Jason closes his eyes and falls asleep. Nightmares don’t haunt him, only you.

Jason slept the hardest he had ever slept before. You woke up before him and he didn’t even know it. You’d like to say that you got up and piddled around your apartment, but that would be a lie. When you woke up, you were still pressed against Jason. You had somehow wrapped yourself around him like a deranged koala, or a squid. One arm haphazardly tucked under his head and wrapped around his neck, shoulder aching from the placement. Your other arm was wrapped around his waist, a leg thrown over his hips. You were quick to pull your leg back, feeling it was a little promiscuous should he wake. You take the opportunity to stare at him, closer than you usually would.

For the first time since you’d known Jason his skin was smoothed over, no worried wrinkles. He was relaxed and you hadn’t realized how wound up he usually looked until this moment. Usually, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world, and you don’t know why or what caused it. You just know that it lightens when you can get him to laugh or talk about something he enjoys. Once you had asked Steph about it, sitting at her table one slow afternoon. She said it wasn’t her story to share but that there was some serious trauma along with a mountain of familial issues that didn’t help. You understood that having been there yourself. It's why you moved to Gotham in the first place. You never asked Jason about it because he never asked you what you were doing in Gotham. Your mind comes back to keep staring at him.

You get distracted staring at his lips longer than you’d like to admit, following the soft curve and pout there. Your thumb gently swipes over the small scar there absentmindedly, your hand already on his face without you realizing it. You feel a puff of air against your thumb, and you freeze as Jason’s forehead crinkles for a moment before relaxing again. God, you were such a loser. Staring at him while he slept, touching his lips. You needed to get a grip, and it was not going to happen in this bed. You take your time to peel out of his hold, his grip on you stronger than you anticipated. You pause once your feet are on the ground, letting him reorient himself until he stops moving. Bodily functions are taken care of in the bathroom, and you move to the kitchen starting the kettle on the stove for some tea. You stand there staring at the kettle while you wait, ignoring the headache forming behind your eyes.

A surge of upset overtakes you as you set two mugs on the counter with your usual tea. With a moment alone, with your tea, you think about Red Hood. You know it's dumb, but you still feel right to be mad at him. Between the kidnapping, which was his fault, and his abandonment, you understand now that he couldn’t have stayed, you think that anger is valid. But now, two days later, he hadn’t checked on you at least. You know Jason had been here but there was no note or any sign that he had been on your fire escape. You’ll admit to waking up, sneaking out of bed, and standing by the window waiting. It wasn’t for long, ten minutes, because you could cold without the space heater sleeping in your bed. He never showed himself.  You thought he cared but now you were questioning everything about your strange friendship with the vigilante.

“Tea?” a deep voice says. Your entire body flinches and for a brief moment you wonder if you’d summoned Red Hood by thinking about him but when you turn, you find Jason with a guilty look on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You press your hand to your chest, trying to make your heart slow down.

“You're so quiet.” You say with a deep breath. You know you were kind of lost in thought but you heard the usual sounds of your apartment easily. The creaking of the fire escape, the whistle of air from the window that’s not sealed right, and the whine of the ceiling fan. You hadn’t heard Jason moving at all.

“Part of the job.” He says with a shrug. You nod even though that doesn’t really make sense. What do security systems have to do with being quiet? The kettle starts to whistle. You turn off the heat and decide to ignore your usual tea habit for some hot chocolate. You put the box back into the cabinet and swap it for the box of hot chocolate. Once the hot chocolate is made you bring the mugs to the island. Jason is giving you a curious look.

“Oh, I’m sorry I should’ve asked if you want tea instead.” You say guiltily. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I like hot chocolate.” He takes the mug. He doesn’t drink it just yet only looks at you in that analyzing way.

“Why do you do that?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Do what?” he responds confused.

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Jason,” you say sternly. You think he knows exactly what you're talking about it. He innocently shrugs and picks up the mug. You see the start of a smirk as he brings the mug to his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Whatever.” You round the island to look at the papers left on your dining table, and you hear Jason shift in his seat.

“Why do you have a cup of water on your window seal?” He questions. Your brows for furrow and you look up to see the cup he’s talking about. The real reason you had crawled out of bed in the middle of the night was because you were thirsty. You’d stood by the window while you sipped on it.

“I was thirsty in the middle of the night.” You leave it at that. You hear him move and then see him out of the corner of your eye moving towards the window. He pauses and looks at your window locks for a minute before picking up the glass.

“You should’ve woken me up I would have gotten it for you.” He walks past you taking it to the kitchen.

“I’m not helpless you know.” Honestly, in your half-asleep state, you had forgotten Jason was there until you were climbing back into bed, snuggling up against him.  He’s standing next to you again when he speaks next, voice soft.

“I know you’re not, but it doesn't hurt to let someone take care of you.”

You don’t look up from you skimming of the papers, but you feel a warmth in your chest.

“Next time I need a glass of water and you’re in my bed; I’ll be sure to wake you.” You say with a hint of a smile.

Jason's heart does a little jump at your statement. He knows you're being facetious about it but the idea that you would let him stay in your bed again… It’s a nice thought, especially if it is under different circumstances. You look up from your skimming and meet his eye with a small smile.  You look over his face.

“You should go home.” You say softly. Jason's internal jumping falls to the ground. So, you don’t want him here?  You must see the confusion on his face because you put down papers you were reading to hold his face. You tip his head this way and that as your thumb swipes just above his jawline.

“You're growing a beard,” you finally say, “Not that I think it would be a bad look for you, I just assume you don’t like it.”  Jason's own hand comes to feel at his skin. You were right, a coarse stubble where his hand is. Jason wants to laugh at your statement. The few times he hadn’t shaved consistently, usually on a long mission with the outlaws, his alleged beard would grow out patchy and uneven. Not a good look like you apparently think. He had complained about it one time to Bruce (it was a weird family bonding activity that was unrelated to the conversation) and Bruce had said it was because Jason was still young, that in a few years it would even out. Jason feels your hands leave his face and he tamps down the urge to pull them back. Your smile sweetly at him making it easier to reign himself in.

“I can’t keep you hostage forever.” You add. Jason does laugh at that; two days is hardly forever. You could keep him for a month and he wouldn’t complain.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and you roll your eyes at him. He hadn’t asked how you were feeling today but he got the feeling you might kick him if he did. You seem to be in higher spirits but your apparent venture in the middle of the night worried him. The window was unlocked, and it had to be because of you. He had checked every lock in your apartment before he let you drag him to your room the night before. The window had been locked. Nothing was out of place in the apartment, so not a break-in. Red Hood was him and he was already there, so that wasn’t it either. You were the only option left. He didn’t tell you that though.

“You know, I have lived my entire life without you. I think I’ll be fine for a couple of days. Besides, you’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days.” He glances at his current apparel. You had good reason to be concerned about that. They were part of his Red Hood suit and he’s thankful you hadn’t made a connection yet. Black cargo pants and a black T-shirt. His armor and guns dropped at the garage he got the car from. His clothes weren’t exactly clean when he picked you up at the warehouse, already sweaty from a few hours of patrol. And now two days later, yea, he should go home.

“Fine, if you're kicking me out, I’ll leave.” You blink at him in disbelief, and a smirk works its way onto his lips.

“I am not kicking you out.” You say defiantly. Jason rolls his tongue between his teeth to keep from laughing. He puts his hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay, you’re not kicking me out, but I leave you alone. You let me know if you need anything, anything at all, okay?” he says. Your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“No, not yet.”

“What?”

“Stay til lunch” you pause, eye imploring, “Please.” Jason understands now.

“You don’t have to say please, sweetheart. I’ll stay for lunch.” You seem pleased with his response, nodding with a contented smile. The morning proceeds with you cajoling him into another movie and by noon you were both quietly eating leftover Chinese from the night before.

“You’ll call me if you need something, right?” Jason asks around some sweet and sour chicken. You’re sitting at the island together, your ankle hooked around his.

“You know, I think you’d make a great dad.” You say, while picking through your food for the perfect broccoli. Your statement throws Jason off-kilter and must show on his face because when you look up you laugh at him.

“I will let you know if I need anything, please don’t worry about me. I get the feeling it might drive you crazy.” Jason’s mind is still running through what you meant by your previous statement. A great dad? Was there a purpose in that statement? Were you thinking about him like that? He checks back in registering what you just said.

“You're right about that.” Which is why he already had a plan ready for when he left your apartment. He’s positive that the only reason you’re asking him to leave is because you feel guilty and that you're still not ready to be alone. So, he was going to make sure you weren’t alone. The rest of lunch is spent quietly, feet randomly kicking at each other under the island. He attempts to wash the silverware you’d used but you stopped him, threatening to stab him with your fork. You drop the fork before he can concede in the battle of the dishes. A haunted look crosses your face for just a second before you hide it with a smile and start to shuffle him out your door.

Jason knew that look in an instant, he did not want to leave you alone for any amount of time. But he didn’t want you to feel bad about keeping him here. You help him collect his things which amounted to just his phone. You do a quick scan of the hooks by your door, clearly searching for a coat he hadn’t worn when he picked you up. A worried crease shows between your brows when your eyes settle on the Red Hood jacket next to the shock blanket. You glance between Jason and the jacket and just for a second he wonders if you know. You’re smart, he wouldn't be surprised if you did, but then you shake your head and pull him into a hug.

He’s a little startled but not as much as he would have been last week. The past two days of constantly touching each other in some manner made it easier for him to relax in your touch. His arms easily circle around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head without thinking. A pleased hum escapes you and you squeeze him a little tighter. You pull away just enough to see his face.

“Thank you for everything, Jason, really.” He nods and watches your eyes; you look like you’re struggling with something, and he waits to see if you’ll talk about it. After a few seconds of nothing, his hands moves. One squeezes at your shoulder and the other tucks some hair behind your ear, hand resting on your cheek. You lean into it just slightly.

“If you need anything-” he starts, and you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’ll call you. Stop worrying about me and go take care of yourself.” you pull out his hold and all he wants to do is drag you back. He stares at you, and you give him an insistent look back.

“I don’t want to kick you out, but I will if I have to.” You say with a dramatic huff. Jason laughs at the picture that conjures.

“Alright, I’m gone,” he unlocks your door and with one foot out he turns back and adds, “but if you need-”

“Get out of my apartment!” You demand with a giggled screech. He grins at you and finally shuts the door. He waits, listening for you to lock it. Once you had he heads down the hallway to the elevator, pulling out his phone. In the elevator, he hits Steph’s contact. It rings for a few seconds and then loud voice rings through the speaker.

“Is she bored of you yet? I wanna see her.” Jason pulls the phone away from his ear with a wince. He doesn’t answer her question.

“I need you to come stay with her.”

“So, she is bored of you.” She exclaims

“Stephanie”

“Jason”

He huffs, “Please”

The line is silent for a minute and Jason wonders if the call dropped in the elevator when the doors slide open, and he steps out.

“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?” she asks, quieter than normal. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation.

“Stephanie, will you come stay with her? She doesn’t need to be alone.”

“Does she know you’re asking?” Jason sighs already tired of this back and forth as he pulls a ticket off of the parked borrowed car. (Bruce’s Problem)

“No, and she’s not going to find out I asked.” He tells her.

“I’m going to bring Cass with me.”

“Steph” Jason grumbles as he slides into the car.

“It would be weird if it was just me showing up at her apartment, trust me. It’ll be a girl's night.”

Jason sighs again, “Just promise to take care of her?”

“Promise. This going to be so much fun!” Steph must end the call cause the line goes dead. Jason wonders for a moment if this is a good idea, but he doesn’t have a lot of options and you didn’t need to be alone.

Additional note: Shout out to the lovely person that talked about Jason actually getting good sleep. I loved it and I think its going to become a reoccurring thing for both of them. The next chapter is all Steph and Cass and some conversations about the family our girl has not had with Jason. She is going to basically be adopted into the family, it’ll be great. Thank you for reading. Please comment!! The good, the bad, and the ugly are all welcomed.

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