#it's so fun I think everyone does it but I should mention this either way

[rait-h]

btw guys I stalk the reblogs so whenever I post something and wake up the day after I immediately go to the reblogs and read what stupid sh you all are saying

[headkiss]

I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?

i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!

You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.

And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.

That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.

Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.

The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.

He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.

It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.

The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.

The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.

You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.

“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”

They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.

He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.

“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.

“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”

He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.

It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.

Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.

“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.

“I didn’t want them to burn.”

You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.

“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.

Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.

There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”

The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.

“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”

“Okay, I'll bring them out.”

“Don’t forget oven mitts!”

He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.

Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”

“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”

He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.

“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”

The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.

He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.

You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”

“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”

“You’re cute.”

A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.

By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.

[elllisaaa]

Would you be making a hard thoughts choi seungcheol from seventeen Bf choi seungcheol or any more hard thoughts Bf from any of the groups you write about?

i freaking love writing these bf!thoughts !! send me more omgg that's one of my favourite thing to write !!

BF!SEUNGCHEOL who is the embodiment of a green flag, who is the final boss of princess treatment because you're the love of his life and you only deserve the best.

you know how he spoils everyone he loves and how he bought a fucking dyson to jeonghan ? yeah, he does that for you too but it's even worse because he's literally crazy over you. no matter the price, if you want something, he's gonna get it for you. and don't ever think about paying for something when the two of you get out, seungcheol doesn't even let you bring your card or any cash with you, insisting that your purse should only carry your lipgloss. even when he's not with you, he wants you to use his card. it's late at night and you're hungry ? seungcheol orders some takeouts for you. you're going out with some of your friends and seungcheol knows you're going to do some shopping ? he hands you his card for the day. you never thought you'll be the kind of girl to let a man pay for anything, but it's not any other man, it's choi seungcheol and you happily let him spoil you.

"i'm going out, baby. i'm gonna do my nails." - "take my card then, and spoil yourself for me, yeah ?"

seungcheol always needs to remind you that he loves you, be that through his words or his actions. he's gonna confess his love to you everyday and everynight, whispering the words when you wake up and just before you fall asleep. as mentioned before, he often offers you gifts too but his main love language is physical touch. as soon as seungcheol gets home, the first thing he wants to do is to hold you close to him. you cannot spend a day without your boyfriend holding your hands, kissing your cheeks, your forehead or your lips. but his absolute favorite are back hugs. he literally engulfs you in his embrace and you feel so safe and protected, which is his only goal in life. he's not ashamed to show his love for you in front of his friends either. they can make fun of him as much as they want because of how down bad for you he is but he doesn't care as long as you're happy and you know how in love with you he is.

"baby, i don't care that my members are here, i haven't seen you in a week, i need to kiss you. so let me, please ?"

another thing about seungcheol is that he's going to praise you for anything you do. you could just tell him that you did the dishes and he would tell you that you're doing good. but he loves it too when you praise him in return, telling him that you're proud of him and everything he accomplished. that has him weak in the knees and he's immediately blushing. also, anytime you're the one initiating the physical touch between the two of you, he melts on the spot. he doesn't mind listening to you rant for hours because he hears your voice and that's enough for him. and the way he's looking at you with so much adoration is enough to make you fold like paper. you're the first one he comes to when he needs something, the first person that comes to his mind every morning when he wakes up. honestly, his members are tired of hearing seungcheol go on and on about how perfect and pretty you are, but they better be prepared because he intends on marrying you one day.

"i can't wait for the day you'll be my wife."

BF!SEUNGCHEOL who needs to remind you of how good he is everytime he fucks you. he needs you to scream his name for all the neighbors to hear.

his princess treatment extends in the bedroom because whatever you want you get. definitely a service top, the type to bury his head in between your thighs for hours if that's what you want. he needs to make you cum at least three times before he even pushes his cock inside of you, loves it when you're all wet and squirmy already by the time he lets you have his dick. seungcheol often brings you to a state of overstimulation without even noticing it, too entranced by the way you're clenching around his fingers and moaning so prettily for him. another thing he wants to buy for you is lingerie. he loves to see your body cradled in pretty see-through or laced sets, and knowing that he paid for them is driving him crazy. when you're telling him that you bought the underwear you're wearing with his money, he's spoiling you for the whole night, that you can be sure.

"fuck, you look so pretty for me… my girl is perfect, look at you. you were made for me."

i know we joke about calling him and daddy and all but i think he would really love it if you called him sir. you just need to look at him with doe eyes, bat your pretty eyelashes and call him sir and he's ready to give you everything you want. you were making fun of him at first, playfully calling him that when he was acting like your father, but it slowly sank down that he liked it a little bit too much and that you did too. when seungcheol is deep inside of you and asking who is making you feel that good, he goes crazy when you answer with "it's you, sir." you also love to call him that in front of other people just to rile him up, because you know he will fuck you harder when you've been a brat and you love it. most of the time though, you're being good and he showers you in praises that makes you shy.

"such a good girl, baby. your pretty pussy feels so good around me."

seungcheol also lives for the moment you're being bad because he knows it's calling for strict punishment. he's being so good to you and that's how you reward him ? not gonna happen. his go-to punishment is spanking you. he bends you over his lap, pushing up your skirt out of the way and landing slap after slap on your cute ass cheeks, until they're all red and you're begging for him. he makes you count how many he gives you too, and start from the beginning again if you lose the number. the best part is when he finally pushes your head inside of the pillow and holds your hips up to ruin you. unlike the sweet nicknames he's usually giving you, in times like these he calls you his little slut, his greedy bitch that always wants more and more. you both like it more rough sometimes, and seungcheol is not going to deny you.

"you're such a brat sometimes, i need to fuck some sense into you, don't i ?"

[ironunderstands]

These Aventurine, Topaz and Jade comparisons are getting out of hand…

As much as I adore both of them, I think it’s very disingenuous to compare Aventurine and Topaz’s lore and be like “but they are the same!!!! If people like Aventurine and dislike Topaz that’s just misogyny!!! and like… no?

Topaz’s whole thing is that she doesn’t know the extent of the IPC’s evil, and believes that what she’s doing is genuinely the right thing to do. Even if she never had a choice in joining the IPC, she (incorrectly) believes what they did to her and her planet is justified, logical and moral, and for those reasons she stands with them. Part of this is likely IPC brainwashing, as she was probably very young when she became an indentured servant to them, and someone living on a planet on the brink of destruction would likely view anyone who stepped up to save them as heroes (imo the IPC likely waited for the point of no return to establish contact so her people had no other choice to except).

However Topaz got best end of the proverbial stick, her planet and its people were deemed useful by the IPC, and didn’t fight back, even if in the end they were still exploited.

Unfortunately, we have seen through Boothill, Belabog and Aventurine what happens when that isn’t the case.

Boothill’s planet got bombed and people genocided because they had a resource useful to the IPC, but were unwilling to cooperate with them or hand over their home, so the IPC decided to eradicate them.

Belabog had a debt owed to the IPC that was ridiculously high and very unfair to expect them to pay back, and had Topaz not convinced the higher ups to give them some time (which she got demoted for), the IPC would have taken Belabog by force

That leaves us with Aventurine, whose story is in no way on the same level of bad as Topaz’s. Unlike her, he has witnessed and experienced firsthand the truly awful shit the IPC can do.

They took custody of Sigonia and promised to offer the Avgin aid in their fight against the Katacans, at the very least protect them from harm. (Sidenote, since the IPC held control over Sigonia, they should have stopped the fighting in the first place). However, they simply stood by and did nothing, resulting in the deaths of around 6,000 Avgin, with around 3,000 went missing (or injured, I don’t remember, either way it’s bad).

But wait! It gets worse! Aventurine when he was still known as Kakavasha referred to the IPC as “the men in black/the men in black suits”, and his first master says he bought Aventurine from “the men in black/the men in black suits”, likely mocking the way he referred to them. Therefore THE IPC TOOK PART AND LIKELY EVEN CREATED A FUCKING SLAVE TRADE IN SIGONIA

Look being made into an indentured servant isn’t fun, but idk personally I’d take that any day of the week OVER BEING ENSLAVED

That’s not even to mention how horrible of a reputation Sigonian’s have in the galaxy, one likely spread by/resulting from the IPC themselves, as at least on Aventurines planet they do not have the mobility to make a name for themselves. (Honestly it’s a mini theory of mine that Aventurines scam is what partly contributed to this reputation, and his status as a slave is something the IPC conveniently left out in their broadcast about it-)

But, you might be saying, didn’t Aventurine have a choice to join the masked fools and leave the IPC, isn’t he free now? And to that I say, it’s complicated.

Considering the amount of suicidal shit Aventurine has done while being part of the IPC, he clearly hasn’t been having a fun time as a member of one, so why does he stick around, especially with the Fools invite? Even if he was a slave, does that absolve him of the crimes he’s committing now? What could justify his actions?

Revenge, plan and simple.

This is going to delve into some spoiler territory for the end of the Penacony 2.2 quest, something which I didn’t feel like mentioning earlier because I’m sorry but everyone and their mother already knows Boothill’s lore. Now, let’s get into it.

Aventurine accepts Jades offer to join the IPC, and when he becomes a Stoneheart, the first thing he asks about is the fate of the Avgin, to which he then learns that besides him, they are all dead. You see, from birth Kakavasha was pushed onto a pedestal as the savior of the Avgin, but now that there are no more Avgin to save, his primary motivator in becoming a Stoneheart (beyond not being enslaved anymore) is gone.

So what does he do now?

Simple, try to kill the motherfuckers behind it.

That’s why he takes on such risky gambles still, and why he wagers and wants Diamond to promote him to rank p46. The higher Aventurine gets the closer he gets to his goal of taking down the IPC for good.

Which is why his meeting with Boothill is so meaningful. I think Boothill is going to “kidnap” him and together they are gonna take down the wicked bitch that is Oswaldo Schneider for his literal crimes against humanity.

Mark my words, an IPC downfall is going to happen, and I think Topaz, Aventurine, Boothill and Ratio are going to be at the forefront of it.

However, Topaz and Ratio (and by extension the rest of the galaxy) have to learn/realize the true horrors of the IPC (although I can sense Ratio doesn’t really like them, and he’s learned a lot from Aventurine, I doubt he knows the full extent of the situation or is in any way happy about it). Therefore? Topaz mental breakdown arc? Ratio lore? PLEASE??!? The IP3 compliment one another so well and god I can’t wait for that to come to fruition.

I really want to see a Topaz and Ratio centered story leading up to an IPC smackdown, and I think we are gonna learn a lot more about how shitty they are in the later half of 2.2 and in 2.3 when the interlude and Jades release arrive.

As for the aforementioned Jade, she’s gonna need a Aventurine squared amount of trauma or reasoning behind her actions to seem in any way sympathetic, because right now she just seems like an evil bitch (in a semi good way, I will always respect the commitment to the bit) who loves her job and would make Machiavelli weep over how hard her ends are trying to justify her means.

[j-nope-not-today]

HP characters reaction to s/o being a muggle

Harry Potter

He does not care

Literally doesn't have an opinion on the subject

Bc he loves youuu and not your magic or non magical abilities

I really feel that his main concern is some snobby witch/wizard being rude to you

But could give a fuck less if anyone commented on you being a muggle

"Okay and? So what if she/he can't do magic. She's/he's still great in bed."

10/10 will say some snarky/sarcastic ass shit if someone is rude to you about it.

He is THE Harry Potter

He would probably love for someone to point it out so he can say some shit back about it.

He will defend you through thick and thin.

May god have mercy on whatever poor soul wants to be prejudice against you.

Will love doing muggle things with you. I mean he did grow up as a muggle.

Otherwise though he loves you and your muggleness very much. It reminds him of home ❤️

Ron Weasley

Aww your his little cutie patootie

Will brag about it to anyone who will listen

"Oh? Well my gf/bf made me dinner from scratch."

He'll brag about literally anything he can. It could be the simplest shit too

Is very impressed that you do everything and without magic too

He'll start doing things without magic just to appreciate the simplicity of it

But yeah..definitely tells everyone and their mom about how proud he is to be with you

Ain't no one gonna be rude about it either. He will guaranteed shut that shit down as soon as it starts.

Fred Weasley

He loves it.

Loves absolutely everything about it

Not to mention he loves it even more because romancing you is so much more fun for him

Will always pull a fancy magic trick from out of his sleeve to impress you or flirt with you

"For you beautiful"

Does complain about doing things without magic

But will begrudgingly do so to please you

But yes. He will complain about it the entire time

I don't think anyone would be ballsy enough to insult you or say some rude shit about you being a muggle

Knowing fred that would start world War 3

But he looooves you. Vv much

George Weasley

Admires you so so much

Bc how do you do it?

Will watch you do the simplest most mundane shit and come out of nowhere with a

"My god you look so fucking gorgeous right now love."

Wouldn't complain about helping you do stuff without magic

I think he finds he enjoys it much more without magic. It's more rewarding

Will beg to do muggle things with you absolutely wants to experience it all

Just like with fred. Ain't no one ballsy enough to say something lest they want to die

But he absolutely adores you and everything about you

And will remind you every day how much he loves you

Draco Malfoy

He didn't expect to end up with you

But he sure isn't complaining

And he'll be damned if you lift a single beautiful fucking finger when he's around

He will 100% dote on you in his every waking moment

For a second you might be convinced you aren't a muggle

He uses magic for just about everything and will not let you do something when he can do it for you

"Listen dear it's just simpler this way. Let me do it."

Your spoiled and he'll make sure you know how appreciated and loved you are

Can never wrap his head around muggles.

Thinks you make everything way more complicated than it needs to be

And should anyone be insulting or rude. They might find themselves hexed or cursed.

Neville Longbottom

This man LOVES you

Will not for a second let you think otherwise

And he'll probably absolutely love doing muggle things with you

And you will have a garden

I can just see him loving gardening with you. The muggle way.

Will randomly whip out flowers and small little gifts for you

Just to impress you

And he'll definitely have words for anyone who wants to be rude to you because how dare they?

To him. Your absolutely perfect

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Headcanons for Jennifer Check with an autistic S/O?

I love this idea so much- I took inspiration from some of my own experiences so this might not apply to everyone but I certainly did my best! I really hope you like it <3

Jennifer Check with an autistic s/o

Warnings: brief mention of meltdowns/sensory overloads, references to ableism/ignorant people, very brief (somewhat) joking mention of committing murder (it's Jenny, what do you expect), very salty and blunt language that I'm honestly not even sorry for

I honestly think Jennifer would appreciate dating an autistic person, especially if you're the type who's very straight forward or overly blunt about things

She probably thought you were a bit of a bitch at first I'm not gonna lie lol, but she makes that assumption about pretty much everyone when she first meets them

You'd seen each other around school before but your first real conversation was when you were paired up for some sort of science project. She was not looking or feeling like her typical hot and fabulous self, and while you weren't the first to notice you were the only one brave enough to point it out

"Have you been getting enough sleep recently? You have really heavy bags under your eyes"

Jennifer wanted to snap at you at first, thinking you were being sarcastic (because obviously she had bags under her eyes, she didn't need anyone pointing it out) but much to her surprise you didn't look like you were making fun of her. In fact, you seemed a little concerned

"Your hair looks pretty damaged." You continued, oblivious to the look of utter shock on her face that you would actually say something like that out loud. "If using both shampoo and conditioner is too much of a trouble I can recommend some two-in-one products. Or you can always use dry shampoo in between washes"

The woman was too stunned to speak. All she was able to do was mutter an awkward "thank you", something that you simply nodded your head at before turning the conversation back over to the project

She gained a lot of respect for you that day, as you were the only person who wasn't afraid to say what everyone was thinking (though she soon learned this was due to you not knowing what was and wasn't considered 'appropriate' to say)

Out of everyone, you're the one person Jennifer goes to (other than maybe Needy) when she needs an honest opinion on something because you won't lie to spare her feelings or try to flatter her

"Which tank top do you think I should wear to school tomorrow, the pink one or the black one?"

"Well, the pink one makes you look like slut. But the black one makes you look like both a slut and a bitch, too"

"Perfect. Black it is, then"

If you ever accidentally make a situation awkward or uncomfortable by your comments or questions you won't even have to worry about being embarrassed because she'll immediately come out with saying something so bitchy and/or vulgar that whatever you said looks innocent in comparison and is forgotten about right away

She'll get very protective if people try to purposely make you feel bad for the out of pocket things you say. After all, you're just telling people the truth, it's not their fault if they can't handle a dose of reality (her words, not mine)

Even though she loves to party she'll most likely either tone it down or just stop going altogether when she finds out you don't like them all that much because of the loud music, bright lights, small spaces crowded with lots of drunk people, etc. She'd rather be with you any way

Always lets you infodump to her about your newest interest or favorite thing, which truly shows just how much she loves you as she usually always has to be the one dominating any conversation she's a part of. Sometimes you wonder if she ever really listens until she gets you something relating to your latest hyperfixation and then you're like "ah okay so she does care :D"

Honestly she's such a trashy mcbling y2k girly (canon, she told me herself) that I feel like she's the type of person to buy you stim/fidget toys and then help you 'bling' them out by gluing on fake rhinestones and such because "you can't just walk around with boring accessories"

Is she the type of person to tease you/make a bunch of sex jokes if you have an oral fixation? Yes. Will she start carrying around lollipops, gum, chew rings, etc. in her purse to give to you when you're feeling distressed in a public place? Also yes

Totally understands if you don't like/can't eat certain foods due to pickiness, especially if this is after her demon possession. She goes out of her way to make sure the pantry is stocked with your safe foods and all your favorite snacks for whenever you come over so you won't run out of them

She may not be the best at comforting you if you're in the middle of a meltdown/sensory overload or if you start crying (especially if it's over something small) but she tries her best to be gentle, not wanting to accidentally make things worse. If you need physical comfort then she'll gladly let you wrap your arms around her and get as close as possible, but if not then she'll stay a safe distance away while trying to cheer you up with words of encouragement

Absolutely hates ableist people. Hates and will eat them /hj. She can't stand when people make you feel bad for not understanding certain phrases or not being able to pick up on social cues

If you're ever confused on something then she takes the time to explain it to you, and yes this includes her sarcasm. She can't stop being sarcastic for anyone, including you (sorry) but she can make accomadations so you don't feel stupid or left out

Jennifer finds your stimming so adorable, especially if you do it when you're excited to see her. The fact that you get so happy you have to make a physical show of it just to get the extra energy out warms her cold, otherwise unfeeling and bitchy heart

If you're a really physically affectionate person then she one hundred percent welcomes it and allows you to touch her at literally any given moment no matter where you are. If not, then that's all the more reason for her to feel special and loved if you ever do give her, say, a hug, especially if you have an aversion to touch

Speaking of which, if there are any clothes of hers that you don't like because the texture of it bothers you/makes your skin crawl then she simply won't wear them around you, and might even get rid of them so you can feel more comfortable touching her. This includes making sure her bed always has the coziest pillows and blankets and comfiest sheets for whenever you spend the night

Overall I think Jen would love you no matter what personality quirks you may have regarding being autistic, and she would never fail to tell you just how much she loves you for them

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — TWO.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries, hospital scare, bullying. WORD COUNT. 12k (out of 40k).

NOTE. kachow, it’s out. i’ll cut the yapping short this time HAHAHAH but please please please let me know your thoughts on this work especially if you enjoyed it!!! thank you!!!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

#2: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Upon returning to campus for the second semester, you’re smacked square in the face with a second wave of rumors. As if the ones that plagued you at the latter part of last semester weren’t enough to drive you insane.

The bigger problem with second waves is that the onslaught just becomes marginally worse. Apparently Choi Beomgyu was caught in the act hooking up with a girl at Jung Sungchan’s party. Apparently it was the same girl he was seen coming home with the previous semester. And apparently he got a black eye after hearing someone talk shit about said girl.

You’re speechless. It’s seriously beyond you how gossip snowballs into high hell like this. If the entire sphere of humanity directs their imaginations to more productive things, climate change might not be a problem anymore. Still, humanity is bound to be stupid, and expecting people to be reasonable will only lead to disappointment. You had to assure Sungchan three times that no— you did not fuck on his parents’ bed. What the hell does he think of you?

“I keep telling everyone you two weren’t having sex!” screams Minjeong in the middle of the hallway on the way to class. “I was literally right there!”

You catch some eyes pointed at your direction as you two pass through. “Yeah, maybe you should stop before people start construing it as a threesome.”

Usually, this would bother you. But after living your entire life being concerned about what other people think of you, it starts to get dull and tiresome. You’re pretty shocked to find yourself so unbothered, and you’re not getting a lot of attention anyway the moment you and Minjeong enter the lecture hall and find yourselves some seats.

That is, until Choi Beomgyu also walks into the hall, sees you, and immediately darts over.

You can literally feel the ten million eyes swooping back and forth between him and you. He stops right in front of your table, arms crossed, frowning. You look up and wish he gets on with it already. 

“You didn’t tell me you’re taking this class.”

“You didn’t either,” you snark back.

He huffs. “Touche.”

You sneer. “Get away from my view.”

“Hey, dude, wait up!”

Your attention gets ripped away from each other by the voice of Heeseung. He’s panting and jogging up to your area, Jeongin trailing behind him, then lands a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder before he looks down and notices you.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “No wonder he was in such a hurry.”

“Hi, Jeongin,” you greet Jeongin who still flinches whenever you look at him for a little too long. “Hello, bane of my existence.”

Heeseung lets your insult fly above his head. “Hey, friend. Heard you had fun at Sungchan’s party the other week.” Emphasis on the fun. With a wiggle of his brows. You want to bonk him with your water bottle, but your attempt at an assault gets refrained by a boisterous voice.

“Obviously, everyone had fun! It was a sick fucking party!”

You’re physically wobbled by Sungchan suddenly sliding into the seat next to yours. “It wasn’t fun when we had to help you clean up,” snides Minjeong. You notice Beomgyu eyeing your friend to your left as he reaches out an arm behind you, resting on the top of your chair.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Sungchan pesters, then looks up, noticing the three other boys loitering in front of you. “Oh, hey, dudes,” he says. There’s a pause. Sungchan looks at Beomgyu, then you, then abruptly jerks his arm off the backrest of your seat. “Oh. Oh, shit! Sorry you can sit here—”

Sungchan flinches out of the chair next to you until Beomgyu stops him with a smile. “Why would you give me your seat?” Sungchan freezes. Then Beomgyu slides out the chair right in front of your table, a scratching noise on the tiles, and sets himself down. You hear Heeseung go ‘ooooh, drama,” before sitting next to Beomgyu, followed by Jeongin. Beomgyu tips his chair back, turns around, and then taps on the pencil case you’ve set out on your table. He bats his eyes. He gives you a cute (blegh) smile.

“Ugh.” You dig into the case and hand him an extra pen.

“Thank you,” he happily hums and turns back around.

“Whoa, did I just witness telepathy?” says Sungchan, mouth open.

“I guess when you’re in love you can just read each other’s mind—ack!” You hear a rattle. Beomgyu kicks the leg of Heeseung’s seat and the former falls dramatically to the ground. You snort. Heeseung attempts to retaliate but the arrival of your professor, Prof Ma, forces him to behave.

“Good morning, everyone.”

The minutes go by slowly. It’s syllabus week, so most of the period is spent by Professor Ma giving you an introduction to the course outline, grading system, requirements and projects, the works— of which includes two group assignments for both the mid and final term, eliciting a chorus of groans from the class. He decides to give the first project in advance for early preparation. At least he’s letting you pick your own members. Sort of. 

“Work with the people around you. No need to get up to form your groups.”

You look at Minjeong and Sungchan. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin turn around, facing you three. You stifle a sigh. Choi Beomgyu plagues you wherever you go.

“I guess the six of us are working together!”

Sungchan’s way too enthusiastic about this. Heesung takes the project sheet from Prof Ma and returns to your circle, containing the instructions, guidelines, and topics for the project. It’s due two weeks before midterms and there will be a presentation the week after. Minjeong speaks up. “There’s three parts, so I guess we’ll work on each in pairs.”

“We’ll take the first part,” you say, almost automatically. Five pairs of eyes land on your. Four, actually, because Beomgyu is already scribbling your names next to each other on the guide sheet under the first roman numeral. 

Heeseung chortles out a giggle. “Jeongin, do you wanna work with me?”

“Wait, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minjeong laments, shaking her head with a hand on your back. You want to eat your words. It just came out naturally since for every group or paired project throughout highschool, you and Beomgyu have always worked together since it’s convenient. Your schedules are nearly identical, your houses are next to each other— it’s just logical. You’ve never thought about it at all until Lee Heeseung’s stupid, insinuating reaction. 

Class is dismissed. A few people approach Beomgyu, asking if he has a group, and he apologizes saying that he does.

You schedule a meeting sometime next week to plan the assignment before parting ways to your respective classes, schedules, and appointments. It’s the same routine for a while— save for some instances where you catch people you don’t even know looking at you for a little too long, glancing at you from afar in between inaudible conversations, and of course, the handful of moments where they’d come up to you just to ask if you’re dating Choi Beomgyu.

Surprisingly, you haven’t blown up. Beomgyu himself has started to eye you suspiciously due to your lack of reaction, save for the polite smile and ‘no, I’m not,’ combo you’d always give as a response. Maybe you’d just stopped caring. Beomgyu says he can’t wait until you inevitably explode. Heeseung hasn’t stopped finding enjoyment in teasing the living hell out of you though.

“Your boyfriend isn’t driving you home today?” asks Heeseung with a grin that you’re starting to get sick of seeing upon leaving your last class for the day, three weeks after the start of the semester. 

Usually, Beomgyu would be found outside your classroom around this time, lugging you off to his car for another free ride home whenever it works for him. Doesn’t help the rumors at all, you know. Heeseung making comments about it each time without fail is also greatly unhelpful.

“He’s having dinner with his seniors,” you tell him, already having given up.

“Poor you.”

“I can get home by myself,” you spit, using the notebook and stack of printouts you’re carrying to smack him on the ass. He runs off to the coding club after very politely messing up your hair. “Go to hell!”

“See you tomorrow!”

He’s gone, finally. You release a sigh and realign the stack of notes in your hands, about to bring it up to your chest until someone darts by— passing beside you with a bump on your shoulder, and the papers, notebook, and copies stumble out of your arms and onto the floor. “Hey!” you snap your head back, catching only the silhouette of the individual from behind and as you kneel down to pat around for your things. It’s annoying, but you let it go. You let it go with a fruitful amount of profanities sputtering from your mouth while you restack the papers.

One piece of paper managed to fly away a bit farther away. You grunt and pull yourself off the floor. Your eyes don’t leave the sheet. You watch as it gets picked up from the ground and gets handed over to you, eyes trailing further up to meet the face of a guy you don’t really recognize.

“Oh,” you release. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem. Some people really need to watch where they’re going.” He smiles. You nod and ready to walk past, but much to your surprise, you hear him utter your name. “That’s you, right?”

Huh. You try to get a better look of the guy’s face, trying to grasp a hint of recollection of who he could be, and if you actually know him, but nothing rings a bell. Zilch. “Yeah? How’d you know me?”

“I, uh—” The hand he once used to pick up your things disappears to the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “I saw you at Sungchan’s party the other week. For, like, five seconds because I never got to see you again, so I asked around about you.”

You’re taken aback. Whoa. This is new. This is very new. When was the last time a guy has shown interest in you? You can’t fucking recall because that’s never ever happened before— not when there’s the false fact that you’re dating Choi Beomgyu perpetually fluttering around you despite your countless attempts to swat it away. You feel your heart jog a little quicker, the buzzing on your fingertips making your senses feel a lot duller. It’s either he doesn’t believe in the rumors, or he just doesn’t give a fuck about them.

Well. It doesn’t even matter because those rumors aren’t true.

“Ah, well I’m not really surprised. I was holed up in a room the entire time. Parties aren’t my thing,” you hum. “What’s your name again?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he laughed. “Jang Seung. First name Seung, last name Jang.”

“Oh! I don’t think I’ve met someone with a one-syllable name before.”

He smiles. “Well, I’m honored to be the first.”

It doesn’t ring a bell, really. That means Jang Seung’s name hasn’t fallen out of Choi Beomgyu’s big mouth before whenever he endlessly yaps about people you barely even know. You thank Seung one more time before heading off to class. It’s not the last time you meet him. You bump into him at the cafeteria a few days later, then the library the week after that. Somehow, you ended up exchanging numbers along the way. He’s an economics major, second-year, but you’re the same age so honorifics were dropped pretty quickly. And before you knew it— you and Seung have started texting casually on the daily.

“Hey!”

Your eyes snap up from your phone. You see Beomgyu snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

“Focus,” he glares, an impatient tap on the pile of textbooks you borrowed from the reference section for your group project. It’s been three weeks since the assignment was given out. You and Beomgyu have decided to do your initial research at Horangnabi today. “If you get distracted again, I’m confiscating your phone.”

“Sorry.” You tamp your phone face-down onto the table.

There’s a sneer on Beomgyu’s face. You raise a brow, pulling your laptop closer to you. He scoffs and starts flipping through the pages of one of the books, and at that moment Julie walks up to your table with a tray in her hands. “A treat for two hard working kids,” she hums, setting two drinks down onto the table— a matcha latte for you and an iced americano for him.

You smile at her. “Thanks, seon—”

“Hard working my ass.” Beomgyu snatches your drink before you can even lift it up, sliding it down to his side of the table with a very disappointed look on his face. “Noona, she’s been glued to her phone the entire time instead of working. I don’t think she deserves a free drink.”

“Leave me alone,” you simmer back. “This is my first shot at romance ever since you’ve started unintentionally sabotaging my love life for the past twenty years.”

“Twenty years? Are you saying you’ve been boy crazy since we were toddlers?”

“Don’t twist my words, fuckface.”

“Nyenye, don’t twist my word—”

Clap!

“Okay,” Julie interrupts, a resounding sound coming from her colliding palms. You and Beomgyu shut your mouths and cock your heads at her. “Settle that problem between yourselves, alrighty? Beomgyu, give her her drink back. Ring me up if you want any snacks.”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, sliding your latte back to you. “What was that guy’s name again?”

You catch the plastic cup with your hands and bring the straw to your lips. “Jang Seung.”

A sound scratches out of his throat. Beomgyu takes a sip from his coffee while looking to the side. “I don’t know him.”

“I thought so,” you hum in response. “Pretty surprising considering your web of connections. He doesn’t seem to believe in all the gossip surrounding us, either.”

He shakes the drink in his hand, ice clicking against themselves with a sour look on his face. Is he actually drinking lemonade or some shit? you stifle a light laugh. “Either he doesn’t believe it, or he just doesn’t mind fucking around with a girl who’s in a relationship.”

“But we’re not,” you say.

“Yeah. Duh. But everyone else thinks we are,” he answers. “You don’t even know him that well. Who’s to say he doesn’t believe them just because he’s trying to get close to you.”

Julie comes by again with a plate of salted fries. You two thank her. The perks of being friends with the staff here. “Stop overreacting,” you tell him, helping yourself to a few bites. “I haven’t completely gotten over my trauma with Lim Jimin yet so I’m not raising my hopes too high up. Watch Seung ask me for tips on how to become friends with you in three days time.”

“Just shut up and start working,” he grunts, shoving even more fries into your mouth to stop you from talking any further. You muffle out a swear. Seriously, why can’t this guy be normal?

Anyhow, you finish your session at the cafe, still pretty confident about your conjecture on Jang Seung’s real intentions with you.

But after three weeks instead of three days, you’re delightfully proven wrong.

“Holy shit.”

You, Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Minjeong are in the living room of your apartment. The four of you had been working on your project until thirty minutes ago. You’ve been working since one in the afternoon. It’s almost eight in the evening right now and Jeongin and Sungchan had already left early. Now you’re all just withering on the floor. Minjeong’s laying down on your lap, phone hovering above her face. Heeseung and Beomgyu had picked up a guitar from his apartment to fill the tired silence.

That is until they heard your very eloquent remark. Beomgyu stops strumming. “What?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, gaping at your phone. “Seung just asked me out on a date.”

Minjeong jerks off of your lap with a shriek. “What?!”

“Look!”

You shove your phone into her face. The bluelight blinds her eyes but they remain wide and frantically open. Heeseung’s eyes flit over from you, to Beomgyu, then back to you. “Wow, I’d never ask someone out over the phone. Right, Beom?” He gets ignored because Minjeong lets out another squeal and tosses your phone aside.

“Tomorrow! You’re going on a date tomorrow!” she jumps at you. “Do you need help getting ready?”

“Hey,” Beomgyu sets his guitar down on the floor, looking at you. “Did you two forget? We still have to finalize our presentation tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, retrieving your phone from the ground. “I’m gonna schedule the date after that.” 

Minjeong tells him to unknot his undies and let you live a little, messing with the documents scattered all around you, and you join her after shooting Seung a reply, [sounds good. see you tomorrow 🙂]. Heeseung has taken ownership of the guitar and is now strumming some melodies. Beomgyu is still grumpy. His grumpiness culminates into the question— “How much do you actually like the guy?”

This catches Heeseung and Minjeong’s attention. Their ears perk up, waiting for your response. “Well.” You take your nose out of a reference sheet. “He’s fun to talk to. And he doesn’t look half bad. Other than that, I don’t think I have any strong feelings for him, you know. But that could change. I don’t know.”

Minjeong hums in response. “Yeah, don’t overthink it. Just go have fun, girl. It’s not a big deal,” she says, the last part particularly directed to Beomgyu, who just sticks his tongue out at her.

“That’s the plan,” you say, leaning back against the couch seat. “I’ve never gone on a date before because everyone thinks I’m already dating you.” That was also directed to Beomgyu. He makes a complaint that he’s being ganged up on. A few more back and forths go down with Heeseung plucking arpeggios as background music. It’s a mess.

“Turn on your location, alright?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t go with him if he wants to take you to his place or anywhere that isn’t public.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And make sure to call whenever—”

“Dude, you’re not her mom,” Minjeong cuts him off. You snort. “She can take care of herself.”

“She’s never been on a date before! Can’t I be worried?!” Beomgyu interjects, offended. “What if she dies? What if she trips on the stairs on the way and dies before she can even experience her first date?”

“Fuck you, as if you’ve been on a date before,” you retort.

Beomgyu lets out a huff, mouth twitching from incredulity. “For your information, I have,” he says proudly. “Keep up, dipshit."

“You? As if.”

“I can attest to that,” Heeseung jumps in. “But it was way before I found out you two were friends though. We went on a double date with some girls from tourism. The girl swore he was her soulmate after a cup of coffee and Beomgyu ghosted her.”

This is the first time you’re hearing about this. You’re feeling betrayed and Beomgyu’s arrogance suddenly shifts to guilt. “Don’t give me that look. We weren’t on speaking terms then. Don’t you dare get upset over this.”

“Soulmate, huh?” Minjeong muses. “Do you guys believe in soulmates?”

There’s a pause. “That came from fucking nowhere,” Beomgyu says. 

“If they exist, then I hope mine hurries the hell up,” says Heeseung. Right. He got dumped by the girl from computer science a while ago. He says he’s already healed but just yesterday he borrowed your phone just to see her Instagram stories that are now hidden from him. You pity him. “Fuck, I need to start dating again.”

“No, you don’t. You need to fucking get over her,” you tell him before shifting your attention to Minjeong. “I’ve never really thought about the idea of soulmates. I don’t know, it just seems like a far-fetched idea to me.”

“Boring,” provokes Beomgyu from across the coffee table. “You really don’t think there’s someone out there destined for you? Someone who understands you without even trying, someone who connects with you so deeply and in one click, you just know it’s going to be them for eternity?”

There’s a palpable silence. Beomgyu notices this. He clears his throat and picks up the printout in front of him, fumbling through the pages with a click of his tongue.

“No wonder you’re still single. There’s not one romance bone in your body.”

Minjeong stares at him. “That was...out of character.”

“This guy’s actually a hopeless romantic,” Heeseung slides in. “You should hear all the songs he plays and sings in the clubroom. Dude thinks he’s in a coming of age—”

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up?”

A fight(?) on the couch ensues. It’s Beomgyu and Heeseung wrestling like toddlers while you and Minjeong start working on your project again. Waiting for your laptop to start up, your eyes catch a buzzing phone on the table, sitting right next to a coffee mug. It’s not your phone. The caller ID says Ugly Oaf. “Beomgyu,” you call out. “Your brother is calling.”

You hear a yelp from a couch. “Can you answer?” Beomgyu says, grunting. “I’m kind of— ow! I’m kind of busy here.”

Children. They’re both children. You tap on the phone and put the device to your ears. “Hyung,” you greet. Yes, you call his brother hyung. You’ve known their family since you were a child and since you kept hearing Choi Beomgyu call his brother hyung as a toddler, you thought that was the appropriate term to call him too. He doesn’t mind. Anything else sounds awkward too so you’ve just kept calling him that until now. “Oh, yes he’s here. Give me a sec. Choi Beomgyu!”

Your eyes flit up to the couch. Your friend is being suffocated by Heeseung while he yells out surrenders.

“Beomgyu, he wants you on the phone.”

“Ugh. Hey, get the fuck off me.”

“Another win for the Heemeister!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes at him as he trudges off the couch, walking over to you with an outstretched hand, and you pass the phone to him. “Hyung,” he starts, his free hand on his hip. You stifle a snort and busy yourself with a word document, half-listening to their conversation. “What do you want? Why couldn’t you just text—”

He cuts himself off and you stop typing. You look up to see Beomgyu standing near you, eyes wide and staring into space. 

His other hand falls to his side. 

“What?”

There’s a crack and a strain in his voice.

“H—hyung, what are you saying?”

You shut your laptop and race to your feet. “Beomgyu” you say, marching up to him. “Beomgyu, what did your brother tell you?” You notice his hands are shaking— trembling fingers drop his phone face-up on the ground and you see that the call has ended. Your gaze travels back to Beomgyu. His eyes are damp. You pull him closer by the arm and fix your hands on the sides of his shoulders. “Beomgyu, what’s wrong?”

“M—my mom,” he stammers out. “He—he says she’s in the hospital, why would she be in the hospital, why—”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Heeseung jolting straight up and Minjeong looking up at the both of you. You bite down your lip. You can hear your heart inside your ears. “Beomgyu,” you say, trying to quell the tremor in your voice. His breathing is already short, his eyes are blinking down rapidly to chase away the stinging tears. You can’t start panicking too. “Did hyung say anything else? What happened? Can you tell me?”

“I—I don’t know, I’m not— I’m not sure, I—”

Oh no. Oh no, this isn’t good. You leave for a moment, rushing to your room to grab two jackets— one you drape over Beomgyu, the other you wear for yourself to stuff your wallet and  keys into. “Hey, guys,” you say, securing the coat around his neck. “Sorry, I think we need to cut this session short. Do you mind cleaning up here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll take care of it,” answers Heeseung.

“Give us an update, okay?” adds Minjeong. You give them a nod and a smile.

You grab onto Beomgyu’s sleeve and start dragging him out of your building, the cold, late evening air hitting your cheeks as you rush out into the sidewalk, just in time for a taxi to show up from the far end of the road, and you hold your arm out to hail it. You knock on the window and the driver rolls it down. “Sir, do you think you can take us to Daegu?”

“Daegu? This late?” he says. You press your lips together. You turn your head and see Beomgyu’s expression. You let go of your drip from his sleeve, dropping it down to give his hand a squeeze.

“It’s an emergency.”

“All right. It’s not gonna be cheap, though.”

“That’s alright. Thank you!”

The entire ride to Daegu, Beomgyu is squeezing your hand. He hasn’t said a word. Red lights from the streets burn into the side of his face. Then white. Then it’s dark again. “It’s gonna be fine,” you tell him. He just holds you even tighter. You feel like shit. You can’t even call his brother or his parents or yours because your phones were left behind at your place, and it’s too late to go back for them now.

You arrive at Daegu by eleven o’clock. The moment the cab pulls up at the district hospital, Beomgyu rushes out and runs inside. You pay the fare, thank the driver before catching up to him. The scent of citrus and bleach hits your senses. He’s stuck at the front desk, asking for his mother’s room. “Fourth floor. Ward 23,” says the receptionist. Beomgyu wastes no time in sprinting into a still-open elevator before it could close, tugging you along with him.

He’s antsy all throughout the ride. The moment you land on the fourth floor, he rushes out immediately upon the opening of the doors. You apologize to people he shoved past through, squeezing your way out to see Beomgyu’s back racing down the hallway, single mindedly running to the end of it where you see his dad pushing his mother on a wheelchair, about to enter one of the wards.

“Mom!” Beomgyu yells out. You break into a light jog and head into the same direction.

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen his parents. A million thoughts bombard your head. You yourself are pretty shocked to see his mother in a wheelchair— you can’t imagine what’s going on inside his head as you witness his eyes shake, lips quiver when his steps slow down, walking up to them.

“Oh, dear,” his mom says with an exhale, sounding stressed for some reason. His dad turns the wheelchair to face the hallway instead of the door. “Why are you here?!”

Beomgyu knits his brows. “Hyung told me you were hospitalized! Why wouldn’t I be here?!”

His mom lets out a sigh. She massages her temples. “This is why I told him not to tell you.”

“Mom is fine, son,” his dead assures. “She just fell a little.”

This isn’t received well by Beomgyu. “She’s in a wheelchair!” he exclaims.

And right then, his mom stands up. She gets off the wheelchair, a tired look on her face. Oh. Oh, wow. Beomgyu was about to add something, but his mouth is now left hanging open. There’s a moment of silence, until his mom decides to break it. “I just wanted to try it out,” she says. “Honey, I’m fine.”

The tension quickly fizzles out. Beomgyu is still aghast and confused and conflicted. His dad ushers you all into the ward, in which Beomgyu forces his mother to rest in the bed instead of going out and about before things finally get explained. His mom was prepping for dinner, and she fell from a chair while reaching for something far up in the cabinet. They just went to the hospital to get a check-up just in case. Luckily, nothing is broken, but the doctor recommended for her to be admitted overnight for further observation. 

His dad called his brother to explain why Choi Beomgyu was freaking out so much too. Apparently hyung said the same things but just made the unfortunate choice by prefacing it with, “mom is in the hospital,” causing Beomgyu’s ears to go out of order upon hearing that. 

Beomgyu is still frowning. He’s sitting petulantly beside the hospital bed. “Oh, my sweet baby bear,” his mom says. “I thought you were all grown up. Turns out you’re still a child.”

“I was scared! Hyung should’ve explained better!”

“You didn’t give him the chance,” she sighs. Then, her eyes flit up, seeing you.”Hi, sweetheart. How have you been? I’m sorry for the late greeting. This kid is such a handful.”

You smile at her. “It’s good to see you’re all right, auntie.”

“Do your parents know that you’re here?” she asks. You tell her no, because you left your phones back home in the rush to get here, and she gives Beomgyu a side eye because of that. He simply grumbles and continues twiddling with the blanket. “Use my phone. It’s on the side table. You should give them a call now.”

Beomgyu passes the phone to you. It unlocks without a passcode. “Thanks, auntie.”

She smiles. “Oh, and can you ask your parents if Beomgyu can stay at your place for the night?”

“What?” he starts. “What do you mean? I’m staying here.”

“Your dad’s already staying with me. I’m afraid I’d suffocate with the both of you hovering around me.”

“Why are you trying to kick me out?”

You give them some privacy to talk (read: bicker). It’s already late in the night, so the hallway is quiet but brightly illuminated. The phone rings in your ears as you out into the dark, blanketed sky through the window. There’s a click and you hear your dad at the end of the line. 

The conversation lasts for a while, and you find that you’ve somehow found yourself in the open courtyard behind the hospital building after you’ve finished explaining everything to your dad and catching up for a bit. He’s gonna pick you two up in a few minutes. You let yourself simmer in the cold air for a few more moments before getting back inside.

Minjeong asked you to update them earlier, but you can’t because you don’t have your phone. They’ve probably found out that you left it behind already, but that’s not the problem. Seung must’ve texted you about the date plans already and you’re unintentionally ignoring him right now. But, oh well. You’ll reply tomorrow when you get back to Seoul.

“Auntie, thanks for lending me your phone. Dad said yes. He’s gonna arrive in a—”

You pause. Upon returning to his mom’s corner in the ward, you see Beomgyu fast asleep on the same spot he was in earlier. His head is resting on the bed, eyes fluttered shut while holding his mom’s hand. The lights have dimmed. You see auntie smiling at him. “He’s really still a child.”

“The shock really hit him,” you say, quietly setting the phone back on the table. “He was crying a lot on the way here.”

She hums, then looks up at you. “Can you help me pry him off?”

You laugh. Waking up Beomgyu is always a task. You get near and start shaking him. “Hey. Hey, dip— I mean, Beomgyu. Wake up.” You hear him let out a groan and he nuzzles himself further into the blanket. You get an idea. “Choi Beomgyu, do you remember the time you started a pretty fun lightshow in your kitch—”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he groans, still groggy. He does sit up, but he’s very much still trying to start up his brain. His joints are creaking. He holds onto your arm to help him stand up, brows knitted together as he rubs his eyes. 

“We’ll get going now, auntie. Get well soon.”

She smiles at you. “Thank you for alway taking care of him.”

You feel a swell of warmth in your chest. You nod, mirroring her smile before hauling a sleepy Beomgyu out the ward. The moment you’re out into the hallway, the urge to smack his face awake nearly overtakes you, but you decide against it. Instead, you wring your arms together, lugging him into the elevator so he doesn’t trip over his own feet. 

During the elevator ride, you feel him pile all of his weight onto you, his cheek resting on the side-top of your head. From the reflection, you can see that his eyes are barely open, slowly closing and barely opening again. You breathe out a laugh. The elevator opens. You walk out into the lobby and out the hospital, where you see your dad waiting by the driveway.

It’s a quick drive home. It would be nice to stop by the playground, but the guy you’re with in the backseat right now is pretty much out of commission. Poor boy must’ve been exhausted from the scare.

Beomgyu finally wakes up a bit more upon reaching the building. He mumbles a thank you to your dad, and your dad simply smiles and gives him a pat on the back while ushering him up the stairs. There’s already an extra change of sleeping clothes on the living room table. Your dad tells you to take care of him before disappearing off into his room. 

“Go take a shower, stinky,” you tell him. He grunts and snatches the clothes from you anyway. While he’s in the bathroom, you set up the sofa bed in the living room for him to sleep on, pushing the coffee table away, grabbing some extra pillows and blankets from your room, knees sinking into the mattress as you pat down the sheets. You hear the bathroom door creak open. “Hey, I couldn’t find any other extra blankets except for these Ninja Turtle ones, so I hope you don’t mind—”

The words fizzle out from your throat upon seeing Beomgyu walk into the living area. His hair is still damp, clothes a little too big for him, and his eyes are evidently puffy. You shake your head, a light laugh escaping your lips. What a crybaby, but then again, if you heard the same news— the news that your mother got hospitalized out of the blue, with no discernable explanation, you’re not confident enough to say that you won’t react the same way as he did.

You’d also probably start bawling. And you’re pretty sure Beomgyu would do the same things you’d done tonight too.

He’s still standing there, right in the middle of the open mouth of the short hallway that he’d just emerged from. You let the blanket fall to the floor to stretch out your arms. “Come here,” you say. Footsteps pad down the wooden floor. Beomgyu sinks himself into you, cold skin fresh from the shower melting into the warmth of yours as you fall back into the mattress with a thud. 

You two stay like this for a while, the sound of quiet nights lingering in the air. “Your mom will be fine,” you tell him, drawing circles on his back.

“Mhm,” he mumbles into your hair.

“You’re such a crybaby.” He responds with an annoyed grunt, but his hold on your remains firm. “This is the second time I’ve seen you cry.”

“Shut up,” he rasps, finally pulling away just enough for you to see his face, settling into the spot next to you instead. You roll over to look at him. His left arm is wedged in between your elbow and torso, the other gently holding onto your forearm as his damp hair hovers over his eyes. You have your hands pressed to your chest, feeling each thump on your knuckles for each second your eyes linger on his face. Two thumps. Three. Since when did you get this close? 

Your throat is dry, but you can’t swallow. Your eyes flit down. “Hey,” he says. You can feel his breath on your lips. “Thanks.”

The world stops for a moment.

You offer him a smile before pulling yourself up. The air returns to your lungs. You toss a pillow at him before getting back on your feet. “Get some sleep, crybaby. We gotta be up early for class tomorrow.”

That’s when you finally retreat to your old bedroom to get a maximum of four hours of sleep. You’re pretty sure you weren’t even able to get a single hour in because the next thing you know, the sunrise is already leaking into your bedroom, prompting you to get up and retrieve from the drying your clothes from last night. You make a quick egg and bacon breakfast before heading out, leaving some for your parents, and you two stop by the hospital once more before finally leaving for Seoul at seven-thirty.

“Doesn’t this remind you of high school?” Beomgyu muses while you two hang on to your dear lives standing in the bus commute to the station. 

“Yeah. I don’t ever wanna go back.”

He laughs at that. You smile. He’s finally feeling like himself again. The trip back to Seoul takes ages and you two have no time to go back to your apartment, so you decide to head straight to campus instead to make it to your first class.

That was a mistake though. The moment you and he walk into the lecture hall— together— Jung Sungchan makes the astute observation that you two are wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Heeseung knows what happened. He was fucking there, but starts teasing you about it anyway. It’s like he thrives off of your despair. 

You tell them to shut the fuck up and take your seat, borrowing a pen from Minjeong who asks you about what happened. In your defense, Beomgyu obviously didn’t bring his key to their Daegu house, and you brought all of your nicer clothes here in Seoul. So unless you wanted to wear your atrocious high school fashion sense to uni, you had no choice but to rewear your outfit from yesterday. And, by the way, you washed them! They were in the dryer overnight!

That doesn’t matter to the people around you though. Because it’s almost standard protocol that whatever’s going on with Choi Beomgyu spreads like wildfire within campus grounds. Funny enough, this isn’t the first groundless gossip that you and him are fucking. But you’re less angry this time and just more of just being simply tired of this kind of shit.

You don’t know how well Beomgyu is taking it though. Normally, you can read his face like an open book, but this time you’re not quite sure.

At the end of your class, you quickly rushed off to your apartment while Beomgyu left to attend another class. “Can you bring me my phone when you get back?” he asked you before leaving. 

“Sure. We still have to finalize our presentation this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

The moment you arrive at your apartment, you immediately check your messages. The last text Seung sent you was at 11:37 p.m. [anyway, just tell me if you change your mind haha. no worries]. Ah, shit. You quickly type down an explanation for what happened last night, and that no, you’re not trying to call the date off while you wiggle into a new set of clothes. You leave again quickly after snatching Beomgyu’s phone from the counter. When you get back to campus again, the tick mark next to your text tells you that Seung has read your message. But he hasn’t replied.

Minjeong tells you that maybe he’s just busy. The afternoon rolls around and you’re walking with her and Sungchan to Horangnabi, and Seung still hasn’t replied, but you set that problem aside for now. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin are already there by the time you three arrive. You toss Beomgyu his phone and take one of the available seats across from him.

“Prof Ma says only two people need to present,” you say. “Heeseung, can you do it?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Choi Beomgyu, you present too,” says Minjeong. “Use your people pleasing powers for something productive this time.”

He whines, but agrees anyway. While working on the PPT, you notice that he keeps glancing at you. You raise a brow. He says nothing and busies himself with something else, until 5:00 p.m. rolls around— an hour before your supposed date with Seung.

You haven’t told Beomgyu about probably getting ghosted yet because you don’t want him to fucking gloat and snark saying, ha! I told you he was bad news! Instead, you part ways from the group, make a stop back home to get dressed into prettier clothes and retouch your makeup, and shoot one last text to Seung before heading to the restaurant you two had agreed to have dinner at.

“Welcome!”

The sound of a mental clock is ticking inside your head. It’s thirty minutes past six. You’ve already ordered and eaten a meal, and Jang Seung is still nowhere in sight.

This whole situation feels like a shitty sense of deja vu. Your thoughts are verbalized when you see someone walk up to your table just when you’re about to leave. Of course. Who else would show up at your lowest if not Choi Beomgyu? “Wow,” he remarks, taking the liberty to drag the chair in front of you back, and he plops right down. “Deja vu much. Why do you always go on dates with shitty men? Are you cursed or something?”

“Shut up. Maybe you’re the harbinger of my bad luck actually,” you say. “I think he caught whiff of the rumors that we slept together last night. Gosh. Don’t people have anything better to talk about?”

There’s a look on his face. You can’t quite pinpoint what it means. Beomgyu lets out a scoff, tipping back and forth the empty glass on your table with a sneer. “If he was a decent enough person, he wouldn’t flake out on you just because of that,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “He’d ask you outright if the rumors were true instead of ghosting you like a douchebag.”

You laugh. “That’s true.”

He points his gaze at you. “You’re not sad?”

“No. I’m just a little miffed,” you say. Really. Surprisingly, you don’t feel like shit at all. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm. I was having dinner with some friends, but I got a text from Sungchan that you got stood up again.”

Again. Ouch. No fucking wonder Sungchan messaged you earlier asking where you were. “I cleared up my schedule tonight,” you tell him, getting ready to get up. “Let’s hit the arcade. I need to release some stress.” Your anger gets received by the innocent moles on the whack machine. At least you got something in return— two cheap and shitty keychains, wherein one you end up hooking on the zipper of your bag later that night, the other one you give to Beomgyu as a thank you for yet again, swooping in to save the time you would’ve wasted, had you waited any longer for another failed date.

The only good thing that happens that week is that your group project went really well. Honestly, you had zero hopes from the beginning considering Choi Beomgyu, Lee Heeseung, and Jung Sungchan are notorious for not taking things seriously, but somehow, they’ve managed to prove you wrong. Prof Ma gave you a handful of compliments for the analysis. That’s another dose of helium to inflate Beomgyu’s and Heeseung’s already overly inflated heads.

“Great job,” Minjeong compliments them. Then they turn to you, expecting the same.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. “I guess you two were better than I expected.”

Leaving the classroom, you have to split from your group because of a paper you need to submit to the faculty office. Minjeong hugs you goodbye and Beomgyu says he’ll be waiting for you at the parking lot. You hum and turn to the opposite end of the hallway. And that’s when you suddenly hear your name get called out the moment you pass by a group of three girls. 

“Hey, you,” one of them hollers again. You spin your heels, a little confused, then point a finger to your chest. “Yeah. Come here for a sec.”

Yet again you’re hit with a distasteful sense of deja vu. Cautiously, you walk towards the group. Vaguely familiar faces. You think you’ve seen one of them before, but you’re not quite sure. They say nothing once you stop a few steps closer. The one in the middle looks you up and down. And then a laugh brushes past her lips, twitching into a bitter smile.

What the actual fuck. “I don’t get what he sees in you,” is all she says before walking away. Again, what the actual fuck.

The interaction lingers in the back of your mind until Choi Beomgyu texts you at two in the morning to join him at the nearby 90s themed diner just a few walks away from your apartment. You two share a rootbeer float with burgers and fries as a mini celebration for your successful presentation, he says. You squint at his face as he takes a bite from his burger. He mimics your squint, albeit his looks more confused and suspicious than investigative. “What?” he asks.

“We really need to do something about these rumors,” you start. Beomgyu simply lets out a sigh and sets his burger down while you tell him what happened earlier, and while you’re chattering on about your story, Beomgyu takes a single fry, dips it in the ice cream of your float, and reaches his arm out across the table to feed it to you. “Wasn’t she one of your friends? The one who—” you stop your rambling, looking down at the food offering in front of you.

Your gaze flits up. Gosh. This is why people think you’re dating.

Still, you open your mouth and let him feed you anyway. Beomgyu hums out a smile, satisfied and grabs a fry for himself. “So what do you wanna do?” he asks. “Are you gonna put some distance between us again? Ask me to act like I don’t know you.”

You kick him from underneath the table. He lets out a pained yelp.

“I know what I need to do,” you say, determined. 

Beomgyu lifts his chin up in anticipation. There’s a hint of mockery in his tone. “What do you need to do?”

“I need to get a boyfriend.”

Then he starts choking. You toss him a napkin and he calls for a server for a glass of water. You wait until he finally recovers before you continue your piece. Beomgyu glugs down the entire glass and slams it down the table. “What kind of mental gymnastics are you pulling?” he asks. “I think you need to get your head checked.”

You ignore his insult. Instead, you push forward. “You’ve got a lot of friends. Set me up with one of them.”

Beomgyu’s face is flat. “No. No way.”

“C’mon!”

“Have you gotten over Jeong Seung, or whatever, ghosting you already? How can you hop onto a new guy so quickly? You know you can’t trust men nowadays.”

You click your tongue. “We weren’t even talking for that long, and I know you won’t set me up with a bad guy! Please? Do this for me, just once, and I won’t bring up something like this ever again.”

Choi Beomgyu looks like he’s judging you to the ends of the earth, but his lack of verbal response tells you he’s actually considering it, and he’s not quite happy about it. He lets out a grumble and slides up the wrinkled receipt you have on your table. Then starts scoring unintelligible marks on it with his index nail.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, craning your head forward.

“Listing down your candidates,” he says, and your eyes widen in pleasant surprise.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d actually agree.” He grunts in response. You try your best to make out his shitty handwriting, but when you do manage to decipher one the names listed, you snatch the receipt from him and your face quickly contorts into disgust. You squint your eyes at the scribble to confirm you read it right. You are unfortunately proven correct. “Heeseung? Seriously?”

Beomgyu simply shrugs. “His compsci girl dumped him. It’s time for you to sweep him off his feet.”

“I’d rather kill myself, thank you. Have you forgotten he’s the reason why the rumors are as bad as they are?” you say, bringing the list closer to your face while your eyes quickly scan through them.  

“How about Hyunjin hyung?” he asks. Oh, yeah. He’s definitely listed here.

“I make his heart race, but not for the good reasons,” you answer, and you reach the end of his stupid fucking list. “Wait a minute. Only your club buddies are in this. All of them are less than human. How dare you?”

He lets out a huff. “Even Hanbin?” Well. Hanbin is definitely better than all of them combined, for sure. “I thought you had eyes for him.”

That completely catches you off guard that your breath stutters a little. Yeah, Sung Hanbin has definitely proven himself as boyfriend material while you worked with him at Horangnabi, but you’re pretty sure he has something going on with Julie seonbae and you have no plans on being a third-party— not matter how desperate you are to just find a quick and easy date. 

“Then, you thought wrong,” you retort. What even gave him that idea?  “Anyway, nevermind. I realized that I’d rather not outsource my future boyfriend from you because none of your recommendations are good enough.”

He snorts, taking a sip from the float. “Boyfriends are definitely outsourced, sure.”

You snatch it from him before his lips can even touch the straw. “You’re so unsupportive. I’ll ask Minjeong to set me up on a blind date instead.”

Beomgyu wonders if you can even trust Minjeong’s eye for men considering that she didn’t even guess that Jang Seung was actually a jerk. You shoot him a glare. The coming morning, you actually do end up bumping into Seung again for the first time since he ghosted you. You walk up to him for a hello— for some closure maybe, but all he does is shove past you before you can even let a syllable out. Heeseung is with you when that happens. His mouth drops in outrage, head snapping back at Seung’s direction, and he almost starts marching after him. “Hey, what the fuck—”

“Leave it be.” You grab onto Heeseung’s arm, stopping him from causing a scene. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just head to class.”

“What a douche,” he huffs out, sending Seung one last glare drilled into the back of his head before matching your pace.

Minjeong pulls through with arranging you a date with a friend of a friend of a friend. She says he’s hot. You trust her judgment because, well, third time’s the charm, right? You’re headed to a newly opened board game cafe downtown five minutes later than scheduled because if you’re gonna get stood up again, you might as well waste five minutes less of your time. A text from Beomgyu alerts you the moment you lay your hands on the door— [i can’t swoop in this time once you get ghosted again. they won’t let me leave the clubroom 😢]. Once you get ghosted. Asshole. You don’t bother replying and head inside.

Much to your surprise, your date is already there, introducing himself as Song Eunseok and you do the same. Now, he seems nice and all— and holy shit he looks like he could be an actor— but the biting feeling that you’ve heard of him before is preventing you from feeling guilty. You order a light meal. Eunseok does the same and tries to make small talk in a light mood. Eunseok. Eunseok. Where the fuck did you hear that name from again?

“Ah!” you exclaim, preemptively dropping the dice on the snakes and ladders board. “Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?”

He looks surprised. “Oh, I do, actually. Are you friends—”

Then it hits him. And then his face grows pale. You lean back, arms crossed, something patronizing tugging on your gums that forms your mouth into a half-smile, riddled with incredulity and offense. Go on. Explain, your face says. This was the guy Heeseung set you up with last semester and ditched you. Of course you never have one normal, decent date. You’re actually cursed.

“Uh. Wow. Haha. What a coincidence.”

Beomgyu’s soulmate talk from the other day comes to mind. You’ve smuggled a blind date with this guy twice, which has to be a weird string of fate, right? It should be romantic, but the only thing you’re feeling right now is mild annoyance and a surge of satisfaction after seeing this guy’s guilt ridden face. See, soulmates are bullcrap. Choi Beomgyu can eat shit.

“There— there was an emergency,” he sputters out. “The guys who I asked to watch my dog while I was out canceled last minute. I couldn’t just leave Charlie alone at home.”

Well. He did show you pictures of Charlie, so that amended your opinion about him a but. Just a little bit because from that revelation, the any hope of things progressing into something more was magnanimously ruined, but neither of you wanted to waste your meal, and you two were still in the middle of a 1v1 snakes and ladders competition so you went on with the date, and he walked you to the bus stop 

He was cool. Kind of. You tell Heeseing about it at Horangnabi the next day, and he falls to the floor crying and slamming his fists to the ground. “It’s not fucking funny,” you say.

“It’s so fucking funny,” he wheezes. “Holy shit. What are the odds? This is amazing.”

A chortle-snort huffs out of you beyond your control. Okay. Maybe it is a little funny. Until it’s not, because later that evening you receive a text from an acquaintance you have in one of your GE courses, a picture of you and Eunseok attached from that night, asking [hey is this you? did you break up with choi beomgyu?] 

That was when the third wave of rumors started.

And it’s arguably the worst wave yet.

“Once I find out who fucking posted this, I swear to god—”

Minjeong is stomping the ground. You’re sitting on a bench at the courtyard, face-to-face with an anonymous post on the student board. It’s a big block of text, glaring straight at you from Sungchan’s laptop screen with a heading in thick, bold letters saying Do you think some people just cheat as a hobby? You don’t know why they’re showing this to you. That is until you read the first few lines, and it hits you.

[Post: I’m not naming any names, but there was this girl I was talking to for a while. We hit it off immediately and she acted like she was super into me so I asked her out on a date after a few weeks of talking. Lmao. She said yes but didn’t reply to my texts for the rest of the night, and the next morning I find out she has a boyfriend who she’s been too busy fucking the entire night so that’s why she that’s why she wasn’t replying. Sure. Okay. Whatever. But today I got the news that she’d been cheating on him with another guy again. Guess some bitches are just born as whores. Ifykyk lol].

[Comment from Anon 1: LMAO the way I know exactly who this is referring to. you dodged a bullet, buddy. the bf’s dumb too for not dumping her yet]. [Reply from Anon 2: to think the guy has flaked out on us so many times just because of  his serial cheater girlfriend. buddy, get the fuck up. open your eyes].

[Comment from Anon 3: ain’t it weird how she’s always in and out of a clubroom full of guys? lol, must be wild in there].

[Comment from Anon 4: drop names! people need to know which freaks to avoid!]

There’s a lot more comments. Sungchan shuts his laptop before you can read any more. Minjeong is fuming from behind you. Sure, there weren’t any names, but it’s obvious who the poster is referring to. It’s obvious who posted this. But you’re not even angry. Your chest doesn’t sting, you don’t feel your head throbbing. All you’re thinking is wow— you can’t just expect everyone to mature the moment they leave high school. Some people still mentally belong to the playground.

“I’ve reported it,” says Sungchan. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you smile, getting up from the bench seat and landing a ruffle on his head. “It’s fine. Thank god I’ve grown out of my anger issues. The guy would be dead if he pulled this stunt last sem.”

Minjeong and Sungchan escort you halfway to the coding club room because you mean to check on how Beomgyu’s faring. On the way, you pass by a group of people— a few familiar faces amongst them— their eyes trained on you as you pass by. “Fucking whore,” you hear one of them gruffly whisper, followed by hushed laughs, and you and Sungchan have to stop Minjeong from throttling them. It’s like high school all over again. This is ridiculous.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Sungchan asks, a hallway away from their clubroom. You tell them it’s fine and shoo them off to head to their classes. They leave, albeit hesitantly, and you finally make your way to the room, the old gray door right in front of you.

Your hand reaches out for the handle. But you don’t twist it open. You pause, lips pressed together, deep in thought.

These guys only tease you and Choi Beomgyu just for the hell of it— you know that. You truly know that. But because of you, some anonymous fucks are talking shit about their friend online right now, and you know they’re his friends before yours. You hesitate for a moment, hand letting go of the handle, until you hear someone walk up from behind.

“Oh, sorry, I—uh, I was just—”

“You’re not coming in?”

It’s Hanbin. You blink at him. He’s still smiling at you pleasantly, like he always has. Maybe he hasn’t seen the post yet. He hums and nudges himself beside you, opening the door in your stead, and holds an arm out, ushering you in.  

You hesitate for a moment. You suck in a deep breath and charge in, expecting maybe an awkward bout of silence from your intrusion. Or the noise pollution they usually emit. But no. You don’t think you’d have ever predicted to see all of them standing in formation right in front of you— two lines, front and back with Heeseung and Jeongin at the head of the back. Beomgyu’s in there too, wedged far left at the very back. What is this? What the hell is going on?

Suddenly, Heeseung stomps his feet, four fingers pointed to his temple in a salute. This is just confusing you even further. “Atten—tion!” he hollers. The rest follow with a resounding, chest-heavy exhale, posing in the same manner.

You’re about to ask what in the world they’re up to. Until Heeseung and Jeongin suddenly break out into an oath of speech.

Nothing will ever prepare you for this moment. They’re all crazy.

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub—”

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub.”

You were never informed that that was their club’s name. That’s so fucking stupid. You have to hold in a burst of laughter.

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration—”

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration.”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid—”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid.”

“In the following ways.”

“In the following ways.”

This is stupid. This is insane. You turn to Hanbin. He just gives you a look that says, “let them finish.” You cup your mouth with a hand, cheeks protruding. Gosh, they’re a bunch of idiots.

“Number one. For making constant jokes and teasing you and our fellow member Choi Beomgyu about a relationship that we know has never existed despite your evident and consistent expression of disapproval— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

Wow. So they are capable of self-reflection.

“Two. For bringing said stupid and dumb and distasteful jokes in public— which may or may not have reached the ears of susceptible bystanders who do not know the true and full truth— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

How’d they memorize all this? You’re honestly impressed.

“Lastly, we—”

“—Lee Heeseung—”

“—and Yang Jeongin—”

“—duly acknowledge and take responsibility for the fact that we, unintentional or otherwise, may have inadvertently started and exacerbated these horrible rumors, which eventually caused a butterfly effect and snowballed to an extent and severity that we lacked the foresight to predict and prevent. For this, we are truly, deeply sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

They all bow in unison. Ninety degrees. It’s quiet now. Dead quiet. Your eyes scan the number of heads turned down, some bobbing ever the slightest, some dead still and frozen. “W—we…we’re done,” you hear Jeongin say. You bite down a laugh. The moment you utter a semblance of forgiveness— not even able to finish your sentence yet— Heeseung immediately springs out of formation and throws himself into you.

“Don’t worry! We’re on your side!” he declares. “We know you’d never ever cheat on Beomgyu!”

There’s a cough. You stare at him, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in silence. No one says anything. Heeseung shamefully pries himself off of you.

“Sorry. I’m not making those jokes ever again. Please don’t hate me.”

You give him a push. “Too bad. I already hate you.” Heeseung whimpers. Then you turn to the rest of the boys, all patiently waiting for you to give them the greenlight. “You guys didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t blame any of you.”

And it’s like the oxygen returns into the room and they release sighs in a chorus. Yeonjun walks up to you for a hug and tells you to cheer up. Hyunjin says that they’ve been trying to track the original poster’s and commenter’s IP addresses and connected accounts since this morning. They’re actually doing something club related for once. You’re shocked and proud.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need. I already know who posted it,” you say. Your eyes are trained to the back of the room, where Beomgyu is hovering around. He hasn’t come up to you yet. You really need to talk to him.

“Still,” Hanbin says. “It’s better to get concrete evidence. We can report them to student affairs for this, you know. This isn’t just some minor issue.”

You point your chin up, giving him a smile in response before excusing himself to corner the guy in the corner. 

He’s not going anywhere. You move in one straight direction. Heeseung and Jeongin step aside to make way for you. Old plastic bottles and tattered furniture are no obstacles to you. You march up to Choi Beomgyu. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t look at you either until you’re already standing in front of him, shoes pointed a mere inches away from each other. He’s fidgeting with his fingers. His eyes peer up— hesitant, unsure. You can clearly see what’s troubling him. 

It’s like he’s bracing himself for you to push him away. Again. Like he’s always causing you trouble. Like he’s always been the root of all your problems.

Your throat tightens, but you swallow it down. What should you do to make it clear to him that that’s really not the case?

“I’m borrowing him for a moment.”

You don’t wait for an assent when you grab him by the arm and pull him out of the clubroom for some privacy. The hallway is full of people. You pay no mind to the dozens of eyes drilling into you as you tug Beomgyu’s jacket sleeve through the turns and corners, stairs and exits until you find yourselves at the back of the building, devoid of anybody else. You let go of him with a push. Beomgyu’s heels scrape against the ground. You cross your arms, looking at him with a huff.

“Spit it out,” you say. “What’s going on inside your head?”

His face is tense. He lifts up his hand— barely. Just barely in an attempt to reach out to yours, but a hesitant quiver forces it back down. Fuck. You really don’t like this. You don’t like this at all. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts.

“Shocker,” you respond, trying to lighten things up. 

“Shut up.” It works for a second because he shoots you an annoyed glare. Only for a second because he gets serious again, and your stomach feels heavy. Like the earth wants to swallow you whole. “Can you be honest with me? Am I giving you a hard time?”

You feel a squeeze in your lungs. You press your lips together. You force in a breath.

“I think— I think I won’t be too mad this time if you ask me to act like I don’t know you again,” he says. “It was more peaceful for you, wasn’t it? Nobody bothered you and you spent your uni life without having to hear anything painful or mean from people you don’t even know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve tried harder to protect you. I’m sorry.”

Beomgyu says nothing more. It gets quiet. You run the words he just said over and over again in your head wondering why the hell would he ever think that? Why would he think you’d want that? “Hey, fuckface,” you say. He flinches. “Do you remember what you said to me the day we made up?”

He stiffens. There’s no way he wouldn’t remember. There’s no way you’d ever forget.

“You said you couldn’t live without me.”

A tinge of red stains his ears. You pull on the arm he held back earlier, forcing him to finally look at you in the eye. They’re stained red too. The back of your throat burns. You don’t care. You push the words out of your mouth even if it ends up killing you.

“If you can’t live without me, what makes you think that I can live without you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen— like it’s a surprise for him to hear that. Like it’s a surprise for him to still be near you, hovering around in a circle that he thought was temporary. It’s not. That’s one thing you’re sure of. That’s one thing you can say with confidence that’s never going to change.

“You’re so stupid,” you say, roughly letting go of him. “Take back your apology. You’re uglier when you’re about to cry than when you’re actually crying.” He responds by pushing himself back into your space, and you’re taken aback when he suddenly swallows you with his arms. 

He’s squeezing you so tightly. He isn’t even giving you the wiggle room to hug him back.

“Thank fucking god,” he breathes out, voice muffled into your shoulder. 

You do what you can to pat what you can reach. Beomgyu finally releases you after fifteen, twenty seconds. His eyes still look a little irritated, but he didn’t cry. There aren’t any snot marks on your shirt. He’s such a baby.

“But, you know,” he says with a sniffle. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this, but this is really gonna ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend.”

“Rumors stand nothing against my nightly eleven-eleven wishes.” 

He laughs a little. You smile. “You’re so fucking lame.”

The fruits of the coding club’s labor materialized two days later. You receive a text early in the morning to head to the clubroom. Jeongin welcomes you with a list of all the people who made malicious comments on the post and, of course, the poster himself— Jang Seung. No shit. That was expected. But what came as a bit more of a surprise not only to you, but to Beomgyu as well, is the fact that many of his many many many friends were on that list, their corresponding comments attached.

It doesn’t really bother you since you don’t even know them. But you can’t say the same for Choi Beomgyu.

“I didn’t see it coming either— wait! Beomgyu, where are you going?”

Beomgyu storms out of the club room, shoving off Yeonjun’s hand when the former tried stopping him— much to no avail, because he’s already gone before you know it. Some of the guys follow him out. You’re not too worried. You’re pretty sure he’s got a sound head on his shoulders. He’s never gotten into a fight since he was, like, twelve. 

But maybe you overestimated his impulse control. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to his expression when they revealed the list, because you later find him sitting on the stairs to the entrance of your apartment building with two unmistakable, vivid, and well-formed bruises on his cheekbone and jaw.

You stop at the foot of the stone stairs. He looks up at you with a grin. “You’re home.”

Spinning. Your head is spinning. “You’re a mess,” you tell him. Beomgyu gets up and follows you into the building, into your apartment, and you sit him down on the sofa before you make a beeline for the fridge to grab a bag of frozen vegetables, wrapping it with a fresh dishcloth.

Beomgyu refuses to tell you what happened when you start icing his face. You look at him, the makeshift ice pack retracted from his bruise while you give him your most done expression you can muster. He won’t budge. You put Jeongin on the phone. The guy spills everything to the table without even needing a nudge.

“You just lost a good chunk of your friends,” you say, as a matter of fact, while tapping the cold cloth to his face.

Jeongin had just informed you that he blew up on his so called friends earlier, causing a minor, uh, altercation to break out, with one of them landing a fist to his face because Beomgyu allegedly dropped the terms pathetic and disgusting pieces of shits, as your informant quotes. Beomgyu doesn’t look bothered at all. His eyes just wander around the corners of your apartment as you tell him that his social circle just shrunk overnight.

“You think I care about that?” he says, leaning back against your couch. Your arm stretches out to chase after his face. “I really don’t give a shit. I can live without them.” But it stutters mid-air after hearing that. You clear your throat. You tell him to scoot over and make room because you can’t reach the bruise.

“This is gonna look pretty ugly tomorrow,” you remark. He says his hands got a little fucked too. You sit up, face scrunching. Indeed, his knuckles aren’t looking pretty. You grunt and fish for a first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet. When you get back to the living room, Beomgyu is sitting patiently with the vegetable pack pressed to his face.

“I’d like you to be angrier, honestly,” he says while you put some ointment on the hills of his knuckles. “This is all my fault.”

You set his hand down on your tangled legs on the couch, still barely grazing over his fingers. “I already told you, it’s not,” you sternly say. Beomgyu fiddles with your fingers. He’s not looking at you. “It’s not your fault everyone’s so far up in your business.”

“Well. That’s true.” Beomgyu simply lets out a lamenting sigh. “Why am I so perfect? It’s so hard being a wanted man.”

You roughly let go of his hand, tossing the ointment at him too. “If you’re so perfect, go fix yourself up, you fuck.”

He whines and tells you you’re a heartless meanie, picking on an injured man, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders because he’s being annoying again. Because he’s acting like his usual self again— and to you that’s the only thing that matters right now. Even if the entire world thinks you’re a whore and a bitch and a cheater, there’s still one person who’s willing to get his face bruised and battered just to tell them they’re wrong.

That’s enough, you think. That’s more than enough.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[flippinpancakes64]

Hey, i love ur works. I was wondering if i could request the Cullens with a reader who’s really good with children and is also a kindergarten/elementary school teacher. Thank u💞 Hope you have a nice day

The Cullens with a Reader who’s good with Kids

I apologize ahead of time for any inaccuracies here. There are no children around me and I do not go seek them out either. Me and kids do not mix…

Anyways thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We don’t really know how he feels about kids before the birth of Renesmee

I mean obviously he loves her, but we don’t know if that’s because he loves kids or just because she’s his daughter

Either way I feel like he would be good with them

He would love to come help you with your students anytime you want him to

He loves setting up little games for them to play and reading to them

And he loves how good you are with kids

It just makes him go crazy

And then he gets stuck in that spot of wanting a kid with you. It not wanting to put you through what Bella went through

But that’s a whole different topic

He does have a moment of self doubt

He thinks you should be with someone who is alive and who could give you kids (if you want them)

Not someone who’s dead and could only hurt you

But he does get over himself

Eventually

Until then he helps you in your classes

All of your students love him btw

Alice:

You know those videos on tiktok of elementary school teachers going all out decorating their classrooms?

Alice is making you do that whether you want to or not

She’s buying all of the streamers, decorations, and posters she can find

She has so much fun with it

And she LOVES to dress you up in colorful outfits

If you’re a man or a woman or anything in between it doesn’t matter

Cause you are gonna wear this rainbow sweater no matter what

And I have a feeling she’s really good with kids too

She’s never had a really strong desire to have any, but she loves to hang out with them when they’re around

She helps out in your classroom as much as she can

And if that help is just making sure your streamers are up to fire code… who’s keeping track anyway

Jasper:

This man is scared of kids

There was one time where he was just walking through a park with Alice and a kid tripped and scraped his knee

He almost went ballistic

Kids are so unpredictable and such a danger to themselves and other kids

Way too prone to bleeding for him to be comfortable

So he’s always on edge around them

Not to mention he’s always awkward

He doesn’t know what to talk about

He was in your room once and a kid was trying to play with him and he just… sat there

Bro is lost

Tried talking about the weather to one of your kids once too

It’s best to keep him away

He’s more than willing to help decorate your room though

And grade tests if you’re getting a bit swamped

It’s just in everyone’s best interest if he’s only in your classroom after hours

Rosalie:

Do I even need to elaborate

She is THE woman for the job

We all know she loves kids, and if what we saw of her with Renesmee proves anything, she’s great with them too

So this is literally the perfect arrangement

She loves kids

She’s not able to be around kids often

You show up

You are literally an elementary school teacher

Perfect match

She comes over literally every time that she can

And since there’s nothing technically holding her back, that’s pretty often

She poses as your student teacher in order to be there all the time

Really, she’s great with them

And she loves it

And the fact that you love kids and are great with them too instantly puts you at #1 on her list

Emmett:

I feel like he’s also great with kids

They love him

I mean, when you’re a kid, what’s better than the guy who can swing you around

Very few things tbh

The boys in your class especially love him

They love arm wrestling or racing him

He lets them win of course

He mostly shows up at your classroom around recess

But hey at least he gets all of their energy out before they need to sit down more

He’s also not someone who dreams about having kids

But if you want them, then he’s all for it

As long as you’re either willing to adopt or willing to go through what Bella went through

But as for him, he’s okay with the little guys you have running around your classroom

Esme:

Another mother at heart

She loves kids

I mean, she’s dedicated her entire vampire life to being an adoptive mother to about 7 immortal kids

So she is more than willing to help you with anything you want

Your kids absolutely love her too

They always get excited when Mrs Esme comes to visit

She is the best at storytelling

She has their entire attention for as long as she spends talking

And she loves helping you decorate your room too

Of course, she also loves that you’re so good with kids

As someone who once had a child and now has so many “children,” it’s important to her that her partner loves kids

Any time you need help, she is there

And she is so excited to decorate your classroom

She brings in candy and food for every single holiday party

Your kids don’t need to provide a single thing

That might be why they all love her actually

Jk jk

She’s just so sweet how could you not

Carlisle:

He is also a guy who’s great with kids

I mean, when you’re one of the only doctors in a small town you kinda have to be good with all kinds of people

Kids love him too

He doesn’t even really need to try

He’s just sort of unbothered by whatever kids want to do to him

So if a kid wants to climb onto his back and pull his hair and sit on his head then he won’t stop them

It’s not like it hurts or anything, he’ll live

Obviously though, he can’t be at your classroom all of the time

Actually, he can’t even be there every once in a while

The clinic is pretty demanding

So he mostly just helps at home

The amount of times when he has graded your kids’ papers or printed off new worksheets for them while you were asleep is countless

He just tries to support you where he can

And of course his money is your money

You want to throw a birthday party for one of your students? Here’s his debit card, go crazy

Vampire! Bella:

She’s a reluctant person with kids

I mean, obviously she loves Renesmee, but aside from her, she’s never been good at dealing with kids

She’s just awkward around them

Sort of the same vibe as Jasper

Doesn’t know what to say to them

She was in your classroom and one of the kids was talking to her

So she just started talking about politics?

Even the kid was confused

But the problem is that kids love her

You don’t really know why, neither does she

But something about her just draws kids to her

She prefers to just help you out at home

But she gets frustrated too quick with the little kid writing

“What the hell is this supposed to say? I’m just gonna mark it wrong”

“Bella you can’t just do that-“

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

◤✘WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN | Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader ISSUE NO.#1

NOTES: ↳ I thought that this idea would be my smut ice breaker after it popped into my head when listening to some music. I have written smut before but it's been a while, especially in a form for others to read; so please excuse me if I'm a little rusty. This isn't exactly tied to anything particular regarding either Habits or Convict, but you may interpret this x reader however you wish. Have fun with the oneshot! I've tried to keep this as both descriptive and gender neutral as possible, but it may not be as on par with people who have become well accustomed to writing gn smut. WARNINGS! ↳ Enemies to lovers trope — profanity — wounded reader, mention of scars and blood — semi dom! Wanda and sub! reader & reversal — smut 18+, minors DNI** — angry/aggressive sex — dry humping — bondage — hinted breeding kink — semi-clothed sex — fingering and mouth oral receiving (Wanda recieving) — Wanda is just a tease to reader — maybe dubious consent? (I feel like I should put this in here, just to be safe) — minor choking — talk of marking — potential grammar and punctuation errors — I think that's it? SUMMARY: ↳ Of course this had to happen right before this mission. Wanda Maximoff had to pry inside your mind, searching for who knows what, the little witch did this to you. And now you will cash in on your promise - your one and only warning to her if she ever fucked with your mind: that you'll be a wolf at her door. Little do you know that you're a wolf walking into a trap.

✎ 4.2k

@alexawynters

↳ WANDA MAXIMOFF TAGLISTS

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‘Fucking dammit!’

You cringe to hide the snarl snaking up your throat, your palm harshly pressing into the bullet wound at your shoulder. A real fucking close call this time and all because of her. Yes, everything would have been fine had Wanda not pried into your mind, invaded the personal sanctity of your thoughts. 

But no. No, she had to just take a little peek didn’t she? And because of that, your mind was elsewhere - distracted - and your cover was blown before you could get the information you needed. In short, the mission was a complete fucking bust. Your report will undoubtedly be met by less than impressed superiors. When they brought you on, they expected the job done. 

It was your way to operate. You always got the job done successfully. Has Wanda purposely sabotaged you? Is that her goal?

You’re planning to confront her on the matter right now. You had stumbled all the way back to the compound because the car you took there was blown to pieces when you were compromised. Tony wasn’t going to be very pleased about that either. Shit, it’s like she’s trying to get everyone against you. 

‘Who does she think she is? Fucking me over like this!’

You enter the compound, the main level vacant except the night shift receptionist. She glances up at you and the sheer gasp of horror from her, you point a finger at her. “I’m fucking fine,” you snarl as you strut past her. Your hand leaves your shoulder to the large cut across your stomach. You allow a pained whimper to escape when you enter the privacy of the elevator to take you up to your chosen floor. 

Your ears ring in the deafening silence, breath fast paced and light. The wounds were of no dire measure to pay a trip to the medical ward. They only fuelled your anger towards Wanda. Ever since you first joined the team, Wanda always had a way to test your limits and push your buttons. 

It was just a common sight to see you both butting heads, whether that was during missions or at the compound. You both were always at each other, hackles raised and snarky comments. Of course, what was your conflict but a cover up to fatal attraction? That was the running theory of your fellow teammates, anyway. Never would you admit anything to them in any case. 

Wanda was a pain in your arse as much as you were a mongrel to her. 

Ah, that word: mongrel. Wanda favoured the use of that word for you. It was her name for you. The way you feel the fur beneath your skin bristle each time she calls you that is the reason why you now have to wear a shock collar. Anytime that the device would detect your body’s indicating factors of shifting, the shock would startle you and evade the transformation. 

Was it humane? No, not really. But did it give Wanda the power to only torment you further without repercussions? You fucking bet it did. 

The elevator pings and the doors open with a faint whoosh as you arrive on your floor. You immediately make your way towards her dormitory, which by incident, is temporarily yours as well. 

There was a small situation last week that left your own dormitory in such a wreck that Tony had you bunk with Wanda until he could fix and reinstate stronger materials to withstand your rage episodes. 

And you have only one person to blame for that particular incident. 

Your fist pounds on the door enough to shake it against the hinges. Your key didn’t work. She had the security chain engaged to keep you out. You can hear her inside, her voice is soft and fuck, if it didn’t aggravate you anymore than you already were it surely made something in your abdomen twitch and churn. 

‘That little–’

“Wanda!” you bark behind bared teeth, fangs pronounced in the mix of your frustration, you pound on the door again. “Open this fucking door, now!”

After a moment, and she was taking her time, you can hear the leisurely patter of her feet as she opens the door for you. She stands before you and the scent hits you. For a few seconds it disorientates you, you huff to regain control of your senses. 

“You fucking bitch,” you rasp, voice laced with your utter disdain for the woman who stood in your way; blocking your path. 

Her eyes were smirking first before the corner of her lips twitched into position. “How was the mission, mongrel?”

“A bust, thanks to you.” You growl down at her as you brush beside her to let yourself in. She closes and locks the door. 

“Why’d you do it, Wanda?” You watch her as she walks past you. When she doesn’t answer, you snatch hold of her wrist as you ask her again, tone far more venomous than before. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulls her wrist from your grip and continues on her merry way.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, witch! You did it on purpose, I know you did.” You point at her accusingly, the shake in your arm causes a streak of pain to shoot through your shoulder and you yelp. You press a blood stained glove to it again, teeth clenched hard that your jaw flexes. 

Wanda holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Right, blame me, of course that’s the logical thing to do. You just can’t admit that you failed to do the job.”

That’s struck a deep nerve because you’re pulled away from your original plan to grab a glass and your whiskey and head for the shower. Instead, you engage Wanda. Your hands encircle her wrists and the entirety of your body pins her against the back of the couch. 

The aftershock of the collar is a distant sting in the heat of the moment. Wanda is close, so close against you that with a breathy intake of air, her breasts push up into your ribcage. She eyes the vibrant hue of your glowing eyes. 

Still, she silently denies she had anything to do with it. Did she do it on purpose? You have to know.

“You– you read my fucking mind, Maximoff!” you hiss your accusation, “I told you to keep your magic away from there, but no, you had to go poking around.” 

Your hands move to grip her forearms and for the first time ever, she flinches. Your breath hitches in your throat and the glow dissipates from your eyes. 

There was much more you wanted to say. But the way her body flinched beneath your iron grip, how for a sliver of a second you swear you saw the ember of fear. Did you really scare her?

But then why did she smell like that?

‘Fuck, she smells like…’

With a deep breath through your nose, you lean forward until your lips brush the shell of her ear. “Stay out of my head, Maximoff.”

‘No.’

The glow returns to your eyes and the urge to shift right there crawls beneath, it feels like your skin is on fire. The collar whirrs in warning to keep your transformation at bay, lest you need another shocking reminder.

“Wanda–”

“So you’re really going to ignore the fact you heard me moaning your name before?” You hear the challenge in her light, accented voice.

The animalistic growl in your throat ceases immediately, eyes wide and despite your dominating position, you feel like the one under her. She smirks again. “Come on, what’s wrong?” 

She arches her neck - baring it to you - as she tries to press her lips to your own ear. She whispers with a sultry purr. “Don’t you want to mark me anymore, Wolf?”

Now it was your turn to be the one that flinches. Why is she doing this?

You retract yourself swiftly as if she caused you some semblance of physical pain that made you release her. In some form, she did. That pang of arousal deep within you begins to awaken and you don’t like the smug look on her face as she sits herself up. 

She tries to act cute and innocent when she is anything but that. But her eyes compel you with the flutter of her dark lashes. Was she casting a spell on you?

You back off slowly, eyes trained on her as she takes one step forward. Then another. And another few after that. You watch her hand gingerly play with the tight knot of her short, silky bathrobe. Only now did you realise exactly how short it was on her, the hem of it grazing just above the middle of her thighs. No wonder her scent was so strong, there were barely any layers to conceal it.

She wanted this to happen.

“You know what they say about us,” she tries but you’re quick to shut it down. “There is nothing between us.” Your conviction is absolute on the matter. Even if there was a hint of attraction towards the woman in front of you, surely the others would have something to say about it; all of which would disapprove. You’d not gained a wisdom linking you to your supposed mate which gave you ample opportunity to sleep with whoever and however many you wanted. 

But you never did. You continue to stare at Wanda, unblinking with a narrowed gaze. She shakes her head. Of course, she isn’t going to take your word for it easily. No, like always, she would fight you over it. 

“But you want there to be.” She sounds so sure of herself. She is still stalking towards you. When did you become a prey and her the hunter? You give no response and this only gives her more power to do as she sees fit. 

“If it weren’t for that collar around your neck, you would have me bent over the couch right now.” You hold a hand out as you call for her to stop. She halts in her advance, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. She flutters those lashes again and your breath feels heavy, swollen because of your conflicted arousal and confusion. 

“That is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“I said stop,” you warn, slowly lowering your hand, “whatever you’re playing at right now, I want no part.” You see her lips fall open as she offers a toothy grin. “I’m just trying to understand why you fight this.”

“I’m not fighting anything,” you say quickly with a shake of your head. “No?” she purrs lowly with a quirk of her brow. Shrugging, she raises a hand up. “Then you won’t fight this.” 

The ambient glow of her magic orbits around her hand as she swipes her arm to the side. Your brows furrow and mouth falls agape, the clicking of your belt looped around your tactical pants is quick before the strap of leather is flying to the side, to some forgotten corner of the common area. 

Your eyes that bore witness to your belt coming undone fly up to meet Wanda’s, a protest on the tip of your tongue, you’re stopped short when you’re knocked back. Your arse, which you expect to get planted on the floor, is instead caught by one of the dining table’s chairs. Your arms are restrained by her magic to keep them pinned behind you.

“W-Wanda, what are you–”

She shushes you while she catches up to you, her steps slow and methodical. Her stare penetrates the darkest recess of your soul and you recoil beneath it. The pain of your wounds as they begin their process of healing are long forgotten now. You have other things to worry about, how much Wanda actually knows about you and what she intends to do with you. 

“I want you to admit it,” she hums in a low whisper that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. She was playing on your fantasies. The fucking witch. 

“Admit what?” You force the words out through the biting of your clenched jaws.

“That there is something between us. That each time we fight it’s because we’re denying that attraction. That the wolf needs me to satiate its appetite because we both know I am the only thing that can.” 

Wanda stands between the gap of your spread legs, she swipes her hand quickly and the lapels of your coat and tactical vest are torn open by the will of her magic. You exhale sharply, a growl pulling through your teeth as you glare at Wanda between the narrowed slits of your eyes. She drinks in the sight of your bare chest before her, the way each of the muscles flex beneath the skin, the heat of your body practically rising off your skin like hot springs. The red streaks of blood from your wound peeking out just beneath the fabric of your gear.

“Wanda.” You’re panting now, anger turned into the vulnerability that was your aroused state of mind. 

That was why you never gave into those temptations. Why you dismiss that flirtatious bartender at every turn whenever she sees you in that bar, why those who have asked for your number, you give them either the number of some Chinese takeout restaurant or even one of your teammates. 

The threat of such vulnerability and intimacy was too great of a target on your back. She moves to straddle your lap, hands pressed to your exposed chest. 

“Admit it,” she says again and you snarl at her. “Never! There’s nothing to admit!” 

She giggles then and rolls her hips forward and down against your crotch. 

“F-fuck!” you stutter, your arms and chest strain forward but Wanda has you contained. Trapped. Like some common dog. A mongrel. 

“Still nothing between us?” she asks, voice laden with a soft whimper, her purpose is to make you crack; to give in and admit to everything she knows. As if lying would spurn her when she knows the truth. 

Why does she want you to admit it so badly? Because she wants to torment you, it’s so simple. 

“N-no,” you grunt only to hiss beneath your breath when she rolls her hips again, this time with more pressure. You swear you feel the pulsing of her clit against the coarse fabric of your pants. 

You do all you can to refrain from bucking your hips or else you were done for. 

“So you mean to tell me that you haven’t fantasised about…,” she trails off with a pout of her lips, feigning that innocent look of contemplation. “For fuck’s sake,” you drawl as your head falls back. 

She’s killing you. Slowly but surely she is killing you. 

She continues, “being out here in the kitchen, late at night, drinking your whiskey alone before I come out here in a short, little bathrobe…” 

‘Oh… fuck.’ 

That was a recent fantasy.

Her fingers drag down the ravine of your heated skin on show for her to then fiddle with the two threads that held her bathrobe together. “Wearing this?” You shouldn’t have looked but fucking hell, you were always the a little too curious for your own good. 

She’s tugged the knot loose and lets the silky fabric roll off her shoulders and down to her elbows. If this was all to be considered as some strange, aroused induced coincidence then that is out the window now. Because there is no fucking way she knew to pick a lingerie set in your favourite colour. 

You tilt your chin toward her only slightly and let your glowing eyes take in her form. The moment she arches her neck the slightest is when you lose it. 

You lunge your neck forward, your canines bared and at the ready to mark the junction between neck and shoulder, to litter her neck with dark bruises so she wouldn’t be able to hide them. But you’re stopped short yet again in your advance. Her magic prevents you, mere inches away. To top it all off, she chuckles. 

She’s cracked you.

You growl, the sound husky and deep in your chest. 

“Fucking– let me–” Your muscles strain and flex as you fight the barrier of her magic to no avail. She tuts you softly, moving herself slightly forward so that her arms push her breasts up to elevate her cleavage to become more pronounced. Damn her. She continues to roll her hips in a slowed motion, riding you out into your confession. 

“Shall I continue?”

“No!” The single word sends a thrilling chill down her spine. “Then admit it.”

“No,” you answer again, this time with a more levelled tone. 

Her fingers move to the fly of your pants as you let out a confused whine as she loosens them slightly. Her palm presses flush against the junction between your thighs and you moan. And that sound is the most exquisite sound Wanda has ever heard you make. For a battle-hardened wolf, wild and untamed and a proven danger to the public, nobody would suspect that you were capable of such noises. But Wanda knew. 

Her palm is small in comparison to you, and as much force as she uses now there is a level of delicacy she retains. Your resolve is crumbling quickly. You jolt forward again with your mouth ajar to mark her but she stops you and arches back. 

“Let me have you!” 

“I’ll let you have me, play out all your little fantasies with me. But I want you to indulge in mine, first. So… admit it and I’m all yours.” 

Was she fucking serious? This is her fantasy? Well, you never expected her to be into something like this. “Ah, fuck…” She hears your mumbling, any moment now you are about to surrender. 

She just needs to push that last little bit. 

“Just think about it, Wolf,” she whispers, lips dancing over yours, one of her hands placing a single finger between your lips to keep them from meeting. “I’m all yours if you just say it. Tell me what I want to hear, and you can have your little midnight snack right here. You can have me over the couch, in the shower and in your bed until the tousled sheets smell of nothing but sex.” 

Fuck, where did she learn to talk so filthy? 

“I can’t,” you say behind a heavy pant. She whines quietly in your ear as her other hand that’s palming you stops, but her hips continue to roll against that sensitive region. At this point, you’re chasing your climax right there. Who knows if she will keep to her word after she indulges in her twisted fantasy. 

You shift your eyes to watch her hand that rests between your bodies and you almost lose yourself to your high. Her hand dips beneath the lacey fabric of her lingerie, her fingers sliding over her folds and thumb rolling her clit in circles; all of which is left to the beauty of your imagination.

“Wanda, don’t test me!” Your words are a command; a warning that she doesn’t heed. “But this is a test.” Your brows furrow, confusion etched into your face. “To see if you can be broken in.”

Was that all you were to her? Something to be broken in?

She begins to make those sounds again. The same chorus of moans and pleas with your name as a choked gasp on the edge of her vocals. You overheard her masturbating when you first banged on the door to be let in. 

And she was doing it to the thought of you.

“Wanda!” you hiss, your hips finally buck up to meet the hunger of her own that roll with such fervour, you believe she was so close to getting off right there in your lap. “Y/N, oh f-fuck, Y/N!” she gasps out, “right there, just like that– oh shit!” 

“Fuck, I admit it!” 

Everything stops all at once and your chest heaves numerous times. The air is thick to your lungs and each intake makes you feel like you’re drowning more than anything. Wanda stares at you, silently, her eyes searching yours when you finally look back at her beneath that wolfish glare. How that stare made her wet in her panties every time. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You scowl at her teasing words. The moment you feel her magic cease is when you pin her against the dining table behind her. She props herself up on her elbows, the loose fabric of her robe still clinging to her form but she was exposed in that cute lingerie set.

Like a hungry wolf, your tongue licks over your teeth and along the top of your lips. You groan as her aroused scent wafts up, the smell irresistible. 

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” She chuckles beneath her airy breaths. “It was the only way to get you to confess.”

Your hand clasps hold of her throat. Oh, how you love the look of fear and lust on her face all at once. It was a sight only you would get to see. “And I have a million ways to ruin you,” you growl lowly, “now you’re in my fantasy, Maximoff and if you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into by letting the wolf at your door inside, then you know I’m always rough.”

“I’m counting on it,” she wheezes behind the firm pressure you apply to her throat. “Good. Now keep them spread, Maximoff or you’ll learn what rough is real quick.” 

She does as you say and spreads her legs open and you sink to your knees, even then given your height difference, you are at perfect level with her soaked cunt, the large, dark patch evident of how badly she wanted this all along. This whole time. 

Your clawed fingers none too gently rip the panties aside, fabric tearing from the sheer force of it. Wanda’s hands find themselves clenching fistfuls of your hair, tugging you in closer with a needy whimper of your name.

Her legs hook over your shoulders, mewling when you pepper her inner thighs with kisses and playful bites with your sharp canines, a rumble of a groan reverberating between her legs causes her to quiver. “Y/N, please!” she pleads. 

“Ooh, what’s this?” you chuckle, “don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll give you a taste.”

You slide a finger past her slick folds, her walls tighten around your single digit. You groan when her moan makes her pussy clench your finger tighter. “Shit, Wanda, I’ve barely done a thing yet.”

“Then do something!” she hisses and you give her that same, wolfish glare. “D-don’t look at me like– ahh!”

She is at your mercy now when you begin thrusting your finger back and forth, soon adding another two through the folds. She whines and moans, cursing your name and praising your work. When you pull your now slick covered fingers from her pussy, she tries to protest but the replacement is swift; and in her lust-ridden opinion, far better. Her eyes roll back and she lays flat on her back against the table as your tongue laps at her cunt, tip teasing the bud of nerves. You growl again and fuck, if she didn’t make the sexiest, neediest sound ever at that. You continue with what’s working at getting your little witch off. Her breath comes in short pants and her legs quiver as they move to circle around your head. Her fingers curl tighter against your roots as she chokes out, “I-I’m cum–cumming!”

You purr against the flood of her orgasm, lapping her divine juices up with your tongue. She breathes heavily for a moment in regaining her composure. You pull your head, albeit, struggling to pry her hands and legs from around you, you crash your lips against hers. The kiss is passionate, fuelled by hunger shared by both parties. Her mouth invites you and you gladly force your tongue past her parted lips, letting her taste herself on your tongue. 

You rut your hips between her still spread legs and they envelop you, encouraging the rocking motion with eagerness. “I still fucking hate that you read my mind and all,” you mumble into the kiss. 

‘Even when I say that I've also thought about carrying your pups?’

Your smirk with a coarse chuckle, dark in its intentions and your eyes glow that colour that brings Wanda to her knees. “Naughty witch, don’t test me there. Those will be my pups you're swollen with.” 

She tilts her head again but this time, you see no intent to tease in her eyes. No intent to…

“This isn’t a test.”

Fucking hell, that wolfish smirk of yours could make anyone wet at the drop of a hat. Too bad for others, because Wanda had you wrapped around her witchy, little finger that danced with magic.

Magic that just so happens to unlock the shackle around your neck. Well, the wolf at the door is now off its chain.

[atzloverr]

Wooyoung NSFW alphabet

minors DNI!!!! hope you enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’ll absolutely smother you with kisses all over your face and neck. Sometimes, he’ll even start making out which you, which sometimes leads to round 2.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your neck and shoulders, so he’ll gladly mark you all over to remind everyone that you’re in fact taken by him. He loves resting his head in the crook of your neck as you cuddle on the couch. He loves the feeling of being so close to you, while also giving you featherlight kisses.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Wooyoung loves making you cum as many times as he possibly can, and he just loves the taste of your juices on his tongue. He also loves to cum all over you, be it your face, chest or stomach.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s obsessed with lewd pictures (or videos) of you. He practically begs you to send him dirty pictures, so he has some content to jerk off to when you’re not together. (He would never force you to send anything of course)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I believe that Woo is actually really experienced, and he absolutely knows what he’s doing in bed. He’s had many previous partners before you, but he won’t judge if you’re not experienced.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves it when you ride him. Seeing your face as you bounce up and down, it’s addictive for him. Whether he’s dominant or submissive that time, he always wants you on top of him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Wooyoung’s such a brat, and such a tease too. So you’ll definitely see him smiling and laughing during the act. To him, sex is something that should be fun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Woo keeps his downstairs pretty neatly shaved. He likes the look of having little to no hair, but will sometimes let it grow if he doesn’t find the time to shave.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I don’t think he’s that romantic during the act, but afterwards he might slip out an ‘I love you’ in between sloppy kisses. He obviously knows sex is intimate, and he doesn’t take it lightly, but he still finds it more fun than serious.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned earlier, he’ll preferably do it to a picture of you, but if that’s not possible, you’ll be the only thing on his mind. He’ll desperately rut into a pillow (maybe even your pillow) and imagine it’s you that he’s humping into. He feels like a pervert when he smells your worn clothes as he quickly pumps his dick.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist, so he enjoys semi-public sex. He shamelessly gets off to the risk of someone walking in on the two of you, so he’ll gladly take you in a dressing room, elevator or one of your friends’ bathrooms. He loves the thrill of having to be quiet so no one hears you, but the next day he’ll proudly show off the marks you left on him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

While he does enjoy doing it in risky places, nothing beats your own house. He’ll doesn’t care if it’s in the bathroom, kitchen, bedroom or living room, as long as it’s in your shared home, the two of you can be as loud as you want. He loves hearing your sounds, so he doesn’t want to miss the chance to hear your sweet moans.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wearing revealing clothes immediately turns him on. It doesn’t matter if it’s you who’s wearing them or him, he loves it either way. When he catches your eyes traveling to his bare chest, or when his eyes linger on your bare thighs, he finds it hard to ignore the hard-on in his pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’ll refuse to do anything cnc related. He wants to have the comfort of your full consent, and gets uncomfortable of the thought of a cnc scenario. He wants you screaming ‘yes’, not ‘no’.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he equally likes receiving and giving. It all depends on his mood. He’ll beg you to sit on his face, and will make any excuse to get in between your thighs as often as possible. He will however never decline a blowjob from you. He loves 69 because of this. Getting the pleasure of your mouth around him, while also giving you pleasure??? He’s sold.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Wooyoung likes to fuck you with a fast pace, and honestly, he finds it hard to go slow when he’s deep inside you. The feeling is so addictive, that his hips practically move on their own. He’ll whimper and whine if you ever decide to ride him slowly, holding his body down to make sure he doesn’t thrust up to you in desperation.

“Ah~ please just a little faster!!” Wooyoung begs as you slowly rock your hips on top of him. You shove your fingers inside his mouth to shut him up. “Patience,” you smile sinisterly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Since he loves doing it in risky places, he actually enjoys quickies. It’ll never compare to your long sessions, but it definitely gets him going anyways. Sometimes, he’ll just want you to help him get off before you get out of the house, so a quick handjob is the perfect solution!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As mentioned earlier, YES!!! He’ll not take any risks where the two of you could get hurt, but he loves the risk of someone hearing you or seeing you. He’ll gladly do it by your window, giving the neighbors a nice view. Scenario:

“Come on Wooyoung, we can’t do this right now,” you giggled as your boyfriend pulled you into a nearby room. You were having dinner at his friend’s house, and he had desperately pulled you away. He didn’t need to explain anything as he placed your hand over his hard cock through his pants. You cupped his erection as he whimpered silently. “Please baby,” he looked up at you with puppy eyes. “I’ll be quiet!” he promised, winking cutely.

You sighed in defeat and started unbuttoning his pants. “Alright,” you said as you started feeling him through his boxers. You had a hard time believing he would keep his promise about being quiet, but you couldn’t stand to feel his hand gripping your thigh under the table for much longer.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Wooyoung’s stamina is great, but I think he gets pretty sleepyy after the first round. Sometimes, he’s up to a second one, if he’s feeling extra horny. If it comes to just pleasuring you however, his stamina never seems to end.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves vibrators. You were baffled when you first saw his collection. Vibrating butt plugs, nipple clamps and cock rings, and that’s just the beginning. He can cum within minutes when you put a vibrator against his aching tip. It’s the perfect tool if you ever feel like edging him over and over again <3.

He’ll of course repay the favor, and either edge or overstimulate you with a vibrator. He’ll gently coo as you whine in desperation. “Oh, baby I’m sorry for not letting you cum. Here let’s try that again…”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing you is an everyday job for Woo. He’ll touch everywhere but where you most need it. He’ll whisper dirty things in your ear while rubbing your thighs, just to leave you to “go to the bathroom”. He also lives for when you tease him. When he aches for you but you refuse to give him what he needs. “You should’ve watched your tongue earlier, baby,” you whisper before leaving him flustered and horny.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Wooyoung’s LOUD. He has a really hard time holding back his high pitched moans when you give him pleasure. He whimpers and whines desperately, even when on top. He’s the loudest when you overstimulate him. He’ll whine and moan and almost scream at the intense pleasure if you make him cum more than once.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s the biggest brat out there. It’s a huge challenge to tame him, but you were strong-minded enough to do it. When he finally gives in he’s a sloppy mess, begging for you to touch him and give him what he needs. He loves the fight of dominance between the two of you, and equally loves being on top or bottom.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I really have a hard time saying exact inches, but I think Woo’s average down there. It’s on the longer and thinner side, but not exactly huge.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a high sex drive and gets easily horny. If you’re not feeling up to it, finding it hard to keep up with his horniness, he’ll gladly put on a show and touch himself in front of you. He’ll look you in the eye as he humps his hand. If he’s really desperate he’ll ask to fuck your thighs or your hand, but only if you’re up to it of course.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He gets pretty sleepy after the deed, and wants to snuggle you to sleep. You’ll sometimes have to drag him out of bed to take a shower, and even when you shower together, his eyelids flutter close as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

masterlist

Hope you enjoyed!!!

Requests are open! (which member should I do next???)

[eddiemunsonbrainrot]

The Importance of the Tiger Pride poster on the season 5 bts video

I’m slightly insane so I spent 2 hours this afternoon analysing the entire video, and this tiger pride photo caught my eye as a little detail no one has mentioned. This may be a bit of a reach BUT the stranger things crew repeatedly show how important even tiny parts of the set are to this character.

The tiger pride poster is obviously in support of the Hawkins tigers, and what is drawn on there is a paw print. But I don’t know if it’s just me but I think that’s an odd way of drawing a paw print. The pad isn’t the right shape (on the poster it more looks like a heart) and the toes are too thin. Here is the poster, then what a tiger paw print should look like. I know they’re a bunch of high schoolers who have made this poster, but this feels like deliberate foreshadowing.

Keep the heart shape in mind.

Additionally, the paw print is coloured in red, which seems an odd choice. The tiger colours are orange and green, literally shown behind the poster, so it would make sense if it was either of those colours. So if we flip it upside, it actually looks like a red bleeding heart.

And you know where we have seen a very important red heart before - on Mike’s shield on Will’s painting

There are many reasons this heart could be included.

I think including this little detail ultimately ties together the importance of the painting to everything Mike does this season, and how it is essential in everything he does, if it is showing up in insignificant places like a poster at school.

However, since the heart is bleeding it could also suggest that Mike gets hurt, or alternatively, his shield gets damaged. We know that he has been building up an emotional shield/guard for the past two seasons, so this could go show that this season this is broken down and he is finally truthful to himself. He stops trying to push Will away, and push his feelings for him aside. Furthermore, to have a bleeding heart means to be a softhearted person, which reinforces the idea of Mike opening up this season.

It could also suggest that since Mike is protecting the whole party with his shield that he fails to save everyone and feels like it is his fault. I think the obvious candidate here is Will, since he is undeniably the person Mike cares most about in the party. I think this links well to the theory that since each season starts with Mike being late to something, he will be too late in saving someone (or so he thinks)

Just some fun little thoughts, let me know what you think.

TL,DR: Mike will be EMOTIONAL this season

[sapphicantics]

Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter One

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.

Chapter word count: 1.7k

Contents: vaping, underage drinking, mentions of weed, threats of violence, mentions of broken bones, shitty comebacks - I think that’s it, lemme know if I missed any

Note: Alright, I’m finally here with the first official chapter of Same Coin. Now I don’t know how often updates are gonna be for this fic but they will be coming, I’ve got so many ideas for it.

Intro - Chapter 2

— — — —

Menace is a bit of a crazy term to use to describe someone who sticks up for themself, but this is high school and everyone loves to exaggerate, especially boys with fragile egos who can’t stand the school knowing they got their asses kicked by a girl.

And when the girl is you — a girl who keeps to herself and minds her own fucking business like people should do any-fucking-way — oh, there’s bound to be countless descriptors thrown onto you to help rebuild their fragile masculinity.

Volatile, temperamental, crazy, psycho just to name a few.

You’re not sure how those are supposed to rebuild their masculinity, especially when you can just kick their asses and knock it right back down again. Despite those seemingly negative connotations that come with your new title, it does, admittedly, have a rather nice ring to it.

Anyways, nice ring or not, negative connotations or not, title or not, you’ve got far more important things to focus on instead.

Like why the fuck Charlie Hudson is in front of you right now.

It’s lunch and you’re under the bleachers with a strawberry flavored vape pen in hand. You take a hit and blow a cloud of smoke past your lips, raising a brow at him.

He doesn’t speak for a while probably assuming you’ll do so first, but you just take more hits from your vape and continue to stare at him. He approached you, he came over here to you, he’s interrupting your time so he must want something from you and he either tells you on his own or he doesn’t tell you at all. It makes no difference to you, but you’re definitely not gonna ask what he wants.

It’s only when you check your watch does he remember he’s on a time crunch and finally opens his mouth to speak. “I’m having a party tonight. I was thinking you could swing by for a bit.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, it’s gonna be a whole thing, you know?” No you don’t know, and that really doesn’t answer the question on why he’s inviting you or why he thinks you’d even want to go, but thankfully he continues. “Real big, real fun, real cool…” he reaches into his pocket, pulling his hand out and passing some cash over to you. “…really need someone to bring the Mary Jane.”

You tilt your head at him, looking between him and the cash before sliding your vape into your jacket pocket. You pluck the cash from his hands and flick through the stack. There’s a couple thousand dollars here — broken up into smaller bills because why not — a little over a thousand by your count, sixteen hundred to be exact, which is far more than you usually charge to supply a party, but if the rich boy wants to give you all his money then you’re not gonna stop him.

Perhaps, this might make you a thief to some, but really, what’s one more negative connotation added to your name?

You slip the cash in your pocket and nod. “I’ll be there at ten.”

He flashes you a smile as you walk past him and brush your shoulder against his. There’s no force behind it — okay there’s a little force behind it, not a lot though — but still he flinches at the pressure and you don’t miss the way he reaches up to rub at his shoulder out of your peripherals.

That reminds you that you need to make a few things clear. Well, one thing, specifically.

“Oh, and Charles?” He hates that name, thinks it makes him seem like an old man and what better way to ensure he knows you’re serious than calling him by his government. He seems to understand this as his eyes snap to yours and he tenses. “If North Shore wants a chance at making it to state this year, it’d be in your best interest to ensure your brother is on his best behavior tonight. Unless, of course, Lucas wants more broken bones. You got me?”

The bell rings behind you then, a seemingly ominous warning to the boy whose face is now alight with fear. You don’t bother waiting on a response, you know he’ll obey your wishes. You smirk and turn on your heels, disappearing into the school.

— — — —

You show up at 9:45.

Fifteen minutes before the agreed upon time, a rather gracious compromise in your opinion.

One you’re already starting to regret as you walk into the house.

The music is blasting so loud you can barely hear yourself think. The house stinks of sweat from the hundreds of people crowded around each other, dancing, singing, laughing, and making out.

Everyone is drunk — some way more wasted than others — but somehow they all seem to sense your presence and part for you like the Red Sea. Some of them even turn their heads to see if it’s really you before quickly looking away and whispering to their friends.

You roll your eyes at that and Charlie takes this moment to finally make his appearance, trudging his way out of the kitchen. He makes a detour once he spots you and after a quick greeting, he leads you out to the backyard. “You got the stuff?”

“What a stupid question,” you scoff. “You think I’d take your money and then show up to this party empty handed with this duffle just for fun?”

You shrug the bag off and place it on the ground between the two of you, unzipping it as you do so. Inside is a bunch of pre-rolled joints and plenty of bags of weed for those who prefer to use a bong. There’s some rolling papers in there so people can roll their own joints, but you’re pretty sure if anyone does rolls their own joints tonight they are not using the weed you bought — because they don’t trust you so they won’t trust the weed you bought, and also no one goes to a party without their own weed. On the off chance that they do use yours, however, the necessary supplies are there.

Charlie whistles at the haul, eyes wide, clearly not having expected this much from you, but that’s not really surprising.

“Damn, I knew you were a pothead but that’s pathetic even for you.”

It is surprising, however, that Charlie took time out of his day to summon an actual demon from hell to this party.

You say this out loud. On purpose. Because it’s your mouth and you’ll say whatever you want.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You turn your head to see none other than the devil herself, Regina George, glaring at you.

“You fucking heard me, Regina. You’re a demon and you should go crawl back into whatever fiery pit of hell you came out of.”

“Yikes, someone’s feeling dramatic today. But if I left, who would teach you how to dress?”

You chuckle and shove your hands into your pants pockets. “Rather presumptuous of you to assume I would want fashion advice from someone who looks like a copy and paste Barbie doll.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s adorable that you think your opinion matters-,”

You hold your hand up to stop any further comments and start talking over Regina, effectively cutting her off and shutting her up. “I’m so glad you said that because your opinion does not matter at all, not to me especially when I didn’t even ask, and acting like it does is only going to do you a disservice so I’m gonna go ahead and let you know - I don’t care and you can keep the rest of your shitty opinions to yourself.”

Regina scowls and steps into your personal space, pointing her finger at you, inches away from jabbing into your skin. She’s towering over you slightly and now that she’s so close, you have to tilt your head up to hold eye contact with her. “Listen here you little bitch-,”

For the second time in less than a minute, you cut Regina off, smirking at the little vein that bulges on her forehead. “No, I don’t think I will, actually.”

Regina is about to blow. You can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders are so tense, and if you can see it so can anyone else in the vicinity. You lean closer, lowering your voice to a whisper so only she can hear. “Be honest, are you just mad this shirt got to come out of the closet, and you didn’t?”

Regina’s hands are fast.

SMACK!

But so are yours.

You catch her wrist in your hand before her open palm can collide with your cheek, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the backyard. A hush falls around those outside and you feel dozens of eyes lock on the two of you.

Regina tries to pull her hand away and you tighten your grip in response - not enough to leave marks or to cause pain, just enough so she’s forced to stay where she is.

She glares at you, her eyes alight with fury and jaw tense. The air crackles with the intensity of her anger, and you can feel the heat of her rage radiating towards you. But there’s no backing down now.

“Enough, Regina!” you snap, your voice firm and unyielding. “This isn’t the time or place for this!”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems like she might explode again. But you hold your ground, your own anger flaring to match hers.

“We’re not doing this,” you continue, your tone brooking no argument. “Not here, not now.”

She looks ready to argue, but you cut her off, stepping forward with a fierce determination. “Back off, Regina. We’ll settle this later.”

The tension hangs thick in the air, but she finally takes a step back and you release her, her jaw still clenched. Without waiting for her to respond, you turn on your heel and stride away, your heart pounding with the adrenaline of the confrontation.

You venture inside and slip into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. You down it in one go and grab another one for the road before leaving out the front door.

It’s gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.

[hariboz]

. . . YOU’RE WHO?

“their reactions to someone calling themselves your work husband in front of them!”

pairing: zb1 hyung line x gn!reader

genre: fluff <3, humour

warning: pretty lighthearted, light cursing

notes: hi hello this is my first post!! congrats to my jebewon for debuting 🥹 as a pre-bp stan i’m so happy to see them so loved and well received 🫶🏻 ALSO ty to my jebis for reigniting my love for writing <3 i’d love to find some zerose moots!! just hit me up, either in my dms or my asks <33

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김지웅 ; JIWOONG

ooooh cocky bastard!! (lovingly)

kind of cocks his head to the side and just goes, “hm?”…😮‍💨

pretends he doesn’t get it but he actually just wants to see the guy’s face crumble while your coworker is scrambling to explain

“oh it’s just a joke between us—“ and the guy tries to throw his arm over your shoulder but jiwoong is quicker and pulls you into his side

makes a show of wrapping his arm around you, giving you the most dazzling smile, just amping up the charisma and charm

refuses to leave your side the whole evening and interjects every time your ‘work husband’ tries to talk to you

makes your female coworkers swoon from afar!! makes you two look so lovey-dovey and your ‘work husband’ is d y i n g inside the whole evening

gives the guy a firm handshake when you bid your goodbyes and hits him with the “i’m the only husband around here, i think,” SOMEONE TAKE HIM AWAY IMMEDIATELY!!

genuinely does not care as long as the guy treats you fine and isn’t being creepy towards you

almost treats the guy like a kid that has a crush on you when you bring him up when you talk about your day 😭

keeps teasing you afterwards, brings it up for fun every time and thinks he’s soooooo funny

“woongie you can’t just—“ “well, you have a whole husband on the side—“ someone shut him uppppp!!

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 장하오 ; HAO

oh he loves it, but not in the “oh this is cute” way but rather in the “this is great, we’ll have so much to laugh at later on our way home,” way

kind of eggs you on to feed into him…to see how far the guy will go…

“oh really? that’s so sweet!” “you never told me about this husband of yours, honey..”

you just wanna 🦵 👨🏻

the guy fails to pick up on the sarcasm that practically drips from hao’s voice and gets more confident in his comments towards you…

oh he’s evil!! but also steps in if it goes too far; he might enjoy the entertainment but no one gets to disrespect his relationship to his face!!

the atmosphere kind of dips when your coworker offers to take you home when you mention that you’re getting tired to hao, since it’s “his job as a husband”

hao looks at you in utter disbelief like?? did that guy just insinuate what he thinks he was insinuating….while hao’s right there…?!

worst stink eye you’ve ever seen from hao just staring daggers into the guy 😭

takes your hand and says goodbye to everyone except for your ‘work husband’ and when you look back before getting out the door you can just see the guy absolutely fuming

“never speak to him again.” “i work with him…every day…” “i don’t care!!”

is genuinely concerned that the guy is being weird to you but covers it up with some lighthearted jealousy to make you laugh :’)

“hao, i got you some treats on my way home!” “how do i know these aren’t just your husbands left overs…” you hate him

“you should start calling him the office divorcee.” BYE

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 성한빈 ; HANBIN

hates it but no one is none the wiser with the way he politely smiles and laughs along

except for you!! you know him and you can see the irritation building up behind his smile

all 😆 on the outside but very much 😒 on the inside

you try to reassure him but he’s just like, “i’m fine! this is fine! i’m so glad you have such a close friend at work!” when you can just see him dying inside

your coworker hears this and tries to interject ‘jokingly’ and hits hanbin with the, “well actually we’re not just friends—“ but you elbow him to get him to shut up like!! bro who do you think you are!!

the friendly look on hanbin’s face falters for just a second but you can just tell he’s seething inside

so you sneak him a little kiss and he lightens up just a little <3

he just wants to leave and take you home and cuddle with you he’s so sick and tired of this random ass man playing pretend with his partner!!

but he doesn’t want to make a scene!! because he’s scared it would make you look bad if your actual boyfriend lashes out over a ‘joke’ so he just…smiles and endures it 🫠

looks the happiest you have seen him all day when you tell him it’s time to leave, has a spring in his step and beams at everyone when bidding his goodbyes lmao

remains super suspicious of that coworker!! essentially perks up when you mention him like 🤨 just waiting for you to tell him he did something weird so he can finally march over there and let him have it!!

genuinely tells you that he doesn’t like how the guy calls himself your husband and you promise you’ll tell him off if he ever utters the word husband in your vicinity again and hanbin’s just giggling and smiley like 🥰 yes thank you bb

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 석매튜 ; MATTHEW

immediately picks up on the joking nature of it and actually brushes it off at first!

it’s just a joke!! and it’s kinda cute, right? who is he to assume any nefarious business!! just a joke!!

…right? right?!

but his mood gets sour rather quickly when your coworker keeps lingering around you two..when he keeps trying to butt into your conversations…bringing up stuff that happened at work that matthew has no idea about…

he’s stuck to you like glue and matt’s getting a little irritated to be honest?? there’s so many other people here, why does he keep circling back to you when your boyfriend is here??

when he interrupts you two being all cute and giggling again, matt kinda loses it but not in a confrontational way!

“man, is there no one else you can bother? maybe an actual partner instead of trying to hog mine??”

your coworker is speechless, staring at you two and you have to try so hard to bite back a laugh

he leaves huffing and puffing and you’re pretty sure he’ll ignore you at work from now but!!

it’s all worth it when matthew turns to you and you both burst out in giggles, matt mimicking the face the guy made to make you laugh <3

the guy keeps glaring at you two the whole night but you barely even notice during your fits of laughter w your boyfriend <3

starts jokingly calling himself your house husband to triumph over the work husband!! will bring you a cup of coffee at home, give you a little kiss to your temple and mutter a “10 points for the house husband” to hear you giggle 😵‍💫

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김태래 ; TAERAE

hates it, wants to ban the words “y/n” and “work husband” from ever being used in one sentence ever again

who does he think he is…taerae is right there?

asks you if this is a common occurrence and if he should help you report him to hr 😭

when you tell him he previously never said anything of this sort he’s almost more peeved..? why is he bringing this up NOW when taerae is here!!

simply cannot comprehend the sheer audacity of that man and doesn’t even try to hide it!! he’ll flat out cackle at everything your other coworkers say but not a single peep from taerae when your “work husband” cracks a joke

ooooh he’s so petty and makes sure to keep you away from him the whole evening too…oh you wanna chat w my y/n? my bad we actually have to go to the bathroom. together. see ya!

has a hand on you at all times now!! no way that guy will catch him lacking. hand holding yours, hand on your waist, hand on your neck, hand on your thigh, pinkies intertwined…oh you’re so in love it’s almost hard to watch how lovely you look

pulls you in to give you a kiss when the guy approaches to say goodbye and just gives up when he sees ya’ll locking lips…1:0 to your boyfriend

cheers when the guy leaves 😮‍💨

makes sure you know you should absolutely speak up if he bothers you, and offers to pick you up from work more often to hammer home the fact that you’re off the market <3

puts on a show when he picks you up, pulls up with flowers and gives you a big smooch while raising a brow at the guy…almost challenging him…oh he’s sick

[lucyrose191]

hi!! can i request something with Kimi or Mark Webber x driver reader?

SILENT ADMIRATION| K.RÄIKKÖNEN

Author’s note; I didn’t know if you wanted a specific scenario or if you were fine with me choosing so I wrote this and if you want anything specific feel free to send a request!

Pairing; Kimi Raikkonen x fem!Driver!Reader

Summary; Kimi’s got some deep feelings for the reader but plans to do what he does best, keep silent. Until, Sebastian manages to persuade him that maybe melting his icy exterior might work in his favour for once.

Warnings; Implied age gap but not specifically mentioned.

F1 Master List , Part 2

Y/N L/N. 3 time world champion and first female formula one driver; a few years ago she had shown up out of nowhere and taken everyone by surprise as the new RedBull racing driver.

There were a lot of similarities between her and her teammate, Max Verstappen. They weren’t here to mess around, they were here to win and that’s exactly what they were doing together.

It was clear that she had tunnel vision, Y/N didn’t spend a lot of time with the other drivers, albeit she was very friendly and polite to them whenever they were together, she was laser focused on her career and had no time for distractions.

Hence, there had been absolutely no sign of a possible lover on the scene whilst she had been on the formula one track and she left no room for speculation either, repeating the same words constantly to the nosey reporters and journalists.

My private life is none of your business, you’re here to ask me about racing.

I’m here to race, not to find a husband.

Her attitude towards the press reminded Kimi a lot of himself, their distaste was matched and it was always fun to watch the frustration on the journalists face due to the lack of answers they were receiving when both Y/N and Kimi where in the same press conference.

Right now, Kimi was standing at the entrance of the Ferrari garage, leaning against the wall as he looked out into the pits. He was simply watching the rustle and bustle of the Friday morning before a free practice session but found that his eyes kept straying towards the woman stood just a garage away.

Wrapped up in a large RedBull raincoat to protect herself from the cold, Y/N was stood with her race engineer, as she spoke her hands were raised into the air making all sorts of gestures to back up her words. He found that it was a common habit of hers and it always conflicted him when he felt a tugging at the corner of his lips whenever he saw her doing it.

Kimi wasn’t against feeling things, he just wasn’t good at it, they were out of his comfort zone. The feeling in his chest that he felt when he saw her wasn’t bad and he didn’t not like it, he just didn’t know how to deal with it or if he should deal with it.

It wasn’t often that Kimi thought about his future, he preferred to just tackle things as they came rather than trailing after things that were only possibilities.

He wasn’t a guy that sought after love, he didn’t crave it but he certainly wasn’t opposed to it. He had been married before and well, it wasn’t what everyone made it out to be but could that just be because it wasn’t with the right person?

Kimi scoffed at his own thoughts, how did he get from Y/N to thinking about love and marriage. What he felt for her wasn’t love, it was simply an admiration. A silent admiration that would be kept that way, silent.

"Are you going to keep staring at the poor woman or are you going to ask her out?"

Kimi turned his head to the side, coming face to face with a smiling Sebastian Vettel, whose eyes were filled with mirth and amusement.

"What?"

Sebastian wasn’t put off by the bluntness in the Finn’s voice, he never had been, instead he embraced it and nodded towards Y/N’s direction. "Y/N, you fancy her right?"

"Don’t be stupid." Kimi replied, voice gruff as he looked away from Sebastian’s burning gaze, turning back to the paddocks, though he made sure his eyes didn’t stray towards Y/N’s direction, not wanting to give Sebastian the satisfaction.

"You’re being stupid." Sebastian rolled his eyes, "It’s very clear you like her, stop standing here staring at her and go and tell her."

Instead of responding, Kimi simply continued staring out of the entrance of the garage causing Sebastian to sigh. "Why won’t you?"

It was silent for a solid minute and when Sebastian thought that he wouldn’t be getting any answers from Kimi today, the man spoke up. "She’s a good driver, she’s got a successful career ahead of her, mine’s close to finishing. She doesn’t need or want distractions, she’s said it plenty of times."

It was a reasonable excuse, there were no lies in his words but there was something deep inside Sebastian that needed him to play Cupid between the pair. Kimi and Y/N would be one of the most bizarre and unexpected pairs but he had a feeling it would work so well.

"The right person would be no distraction, it doesn’t matter what she’s said before. People change and so do their opinions. Think about it this way, there’s more of a chance of her saying yes if she knows you like her than if you don’t tell her."

"What would she want with a divorced man like me? Everyone thinks I’m a heartless arsehole."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "No one cares that you’re divorced and what do you think people think about her? Have you heard the things she’s said to the press?"

Kimi smirked, of course he had and shockingly her words had made him laugh. She was a firecracker of a driver.

"Just give it a try, i think she’d be good for you." Sebastian patted his shoulder before walking away.

Kimi didn’t really register his teammate leaving, his eyes focused on Y/N’s figure just a couple metres away.

That Sunday, Y/N had qualified and finished on pole, leading the entire race by a large gap between her and her teammate, sharing the top three with Max in second and Kimi in third.

She stood on top of her car and waved at the crowd briefly before jumping down, she made her way to Max and congratulated him with a pat on the back before making her way over to Kimi who was still in his car, probably purposefully taking his time to try and prolong the post-race interview.

She would’ve done the same if she wasn’t too eager to go home.

"You good?" She asked, leaning her body over the halo of his Ferrari, she was smiling at him underneath her helmet, even though he couldn’t see.

Kimi nodded, removing his steering wheel, setting it onto the front of his car. Y/N stepped back so he could pull himself out. "You did good," he told her when he landed two feet onto the ground.

"Thanks, I heard you had a small battle with Max out there." Y/N reached up and began unbuckling her helmet, Kimi following her lead and doing the same.

"It was okay," he shrugged.

His response wasn’t anything other than what she was expecting, it was short and straight to the point but Y/N didn’t take it to heart like most would, in fact she actually preferred it. She liked that he was always clear and confident in his words and didn’t waste time with unnecessary explanations or apprehensions about other’s feelings.

Besides, there was no need to fill the space with uninteresting conversation to be able to enjoy a person’s company.

The three podium achievers got weighed before they were lead to the cool down room where they had water waiting for them and the screen that showed the race highlights.

Being able to share the podium with the woman that was all bright smiles as she was soaked in champagne was more enjoyable that Kimi ever thought it would be.

Seeing the utter happiness in her eyes caused a light curve to form at his lips, a greater reaction than gaining third had achieved, the smallest smile of his didn’t even dim as she emptied an entire bottle of champagne over his head, instead it caused an entire opposite reaction as the words spewed out of his mouth before he had even had time to realise he had spoken.

"Do you want to get a drink with me?"

Y/N had almost dropped her champagne bottle in surprise at his words but her smile seemed to grow even wider as she nodded at him, she was clearly confident in her response but her eyes had glanced down to the ground shyly.

"Not out though, yours or my hotel room?" She bravely suggested, not feeling going out but also taking the opportunity to spend some time one on one.

Kimi glanced away from her for a moment over the edge of the balcony before quickly turning his eyes back when he saw Sebastian who looked like he was seconds away from bursting with excitement as he looked at the pair.

"Mine?" He shrugged.

"I’ll see you there, Iceman." Y/N smirked and walked past him off the podium, patting his shoulder as she did so.

She didn’t see the real smile that had shown on Kimi’s face that day and she didn’t hear Sebastian’s shouting amongst the crowd of fans, the man cheering for an entirely different reason than everyone else was.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn in BG3: Chapter 15

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 15: Withers has arrived at the camp and you finally look into the second bag you've been carrying around.

Word count: 1.5K (a little shorter but packed with fun :D )

A/N: hehehe

He has to know.  No way in this universe or your own would Withers not know that you remember your past life.  The whole plot of him in the game revolves around soul counting—he’s the freaking god of the dead!  He must know. 

But…just because you remember who you were doesn’t mean that somehow changes your soul…it’s not like you’re swapping a shirt out for a different colour.

The thumb of your right hand begins to press into the palm of your left, a residual tingle from being shot with the arrow.  Tav has asked who Withers is, and he explains that he’s there to help, in his own confusing way.  He doesn’t mention the hirelings, but says that should anyone die, he’s available.  

“So if we die you’re just going to bring us back?” Shadowheart asks incredulously.  

“Should it be so desired,” Withers answers. 

Tav leans towards Withers, unperturbed by the talking skeleton.  He shifts left and right before asking, “Does your head come off?”

Withers squints at him.  “No.”

“Have you tried?”

“No.”

Wyll cuts in.  “Perhaps there’s a better line of questioning for now, Tav.”

Tav shrugs and asks about the price of resurrecting the dead, and why Withers would be willing to do so.  

It is what it is, is basically his answer.  

With that, he’s accepted into the camp.  Everyone returns to their tent, and you’ve all but forgotten about what you were doing before Withers arrived.  

Perhaps because of what you’ve done in the past they’re willing to leave you alone with the sudden visitor.  Tav is last to retreat to his tent.

“So…”  You aren’t sure how to go about this.  Like, hey I know who you really are and am I your favourite?  Instead you wiggle your index fingers between you and him and ask, “Am I your chosen?”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.  Nor does he answer with a simple yes or no.  “Thou is who thou needs to be.”

You frown.  “But not who I was?”

“A soul is a soul, no matter the shape.”

“Okay, but–why am I here?  Why am I me?”

Withers only watches you.  

Of course, no easy answers.  You flex your fingers, a jolt of frustration flowing through you.  In the game the gods just came out and said the chosen were their chosen.  Did this mean you weren’t his chosen, or he was just so old that he didn’t behave like the other gods?

“Did you bring me here?” you questioned.

To that, he blinks.  If he breathed or did anything human you swore he would have sighed.  “A soul can grow weary, even when on the correct path,” he says.  

Your arms cross, thinking back to how you’d felt in the tent earlier.  That hollow expanse in your chest expands until you have to rub over your heart.  

“Rebirth,” Withers says, “is necessary on occasion.”

You meet his gaze.  “So why don’t I remember anything?”

“Give and take.”

Remember who you were, forget who you are.  Or maybe it’s the other way around.  Either way, he wasn’t going to tell you the whole story.  Your head aches with the possibilities.

“Thou hast questions,” Withers says when you don’t speak.  “Perhaps thou should consider all of thou’s belongings.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words.  You’d been avoiding looking into the second bag.  At first only because you wanted to remain hopeful it would help you, but now because it might give away your connection to the dead three.  Of course, Withers has just confirmed you aren’t with them so…what’s stopping you from running to your tent and ripping open the bag?

The fact that Withers is watching you with what could only be described as sadness.  You keep his gaze as if you could will him to do what you wanted like the redcaps, but he remains silent.  For some reason you find yourself wanting to apologize to him.

Instead you  take a step back, then another, and another, until you turn and hurry into your tent.

In the dim light you find your bag and hold it with both hands.  You couldn’t put it off any longer.

With a deep breath you squeeze your eyes shut and open the bag.  Still holding that breath you peek one eye open and peek down, only to put the air out between your lips. 

Crystals.  There are five crystals in your bag, each one blue, and each one more faded than the last.  The palest is more teal than blue, and it takes a moment for you to realize what they are.

“Memory crystals,” you murmur.  You pull them out of the bag and arrange them on the floor of your tent by how deeply they’re coloured.  “Give and take.”

Maybe the past you knew what was going to happen and each one of these held a clue for you to decipher?  What Withers said…a soul can grow weary even when on the correct path.  Had you…gotten tired of your life?  You consider the gold, your expensive clothing and unusual power over the dead.  What could have been so bad that you were willing to just—go away? 

Tears well in your eyes.  You—they, the person you no longer are—wanted to die…?  Does it count as death if your memories are replaced with someone else’s?  It’s still your body, all that’s changed are the memories.  

Are you who you remember from Earth, or who you were in Faerun?  With careful hands you pick up the darkest shard.  You barely have to focus on feeling the magic before images flood your vision.

And you see Baldurs’s Gate 3.  The loading screen, to be exact.  It feels blurry, like a dream but you can feel the excitement in your body.  You look down at the controller in your hands, moving on their own as you select a new game and debate on playing an origin character or one of your own creation.  You drop the crystal, the memory lingering, along with a thought that is not yours:

I’m just a character from a story?  Not even in the story.  I’m not even there.

You choke on a sob.

Faerun you remembered Earth you.  Maybe they hadn’t gotten all your memories, but they realized they were living in a video game–one that they weren’t even a part of originally.  You remembered who you were—are—“Damn it!  This is too confusing.”

You fall back on your bedroll, hands over your eyes as you try not to cry too loudly.  You whisper, “A soul is a soul, no matter the shape.  A soul is a soul, no matter the shape.”

If that were true, then everything you’ve felt since waking up here might not be what you would normally feel.  Either version of you.  

Light interrupts your mumbling as the front of your tent opens.  You don’t bother to check who it is, you can feel him in the air around you.  A bony but warm hand lays over yours.  

“They had lived too long for a human,” Withers says, “an old soul that was lost in the right direction.”

“I did, you mean.  I lived too long.”  

Withers moves his hand and you sit up to find him kneeling beside you.  He nods.  “Thou chose to forget, and to remember.  The self remains the same.”

“I am not the same,” you hiss, anger swelling over the sadness.

Withers’s eyes fall to the palest crystal.  You follow his gaze, immediately regretful for your tone.  You reach out and touch the crystal.  Once you pull it to your chest you find yourself looking at Astarion.  It’s obviously him, by his white hair alone, but he’s so much taller than you.  His back faces you and you stumble towards him, your much smaller hand reaching out to grab onto his pants leg.

I can save him, you thought.  Yes, you wanted to help him.  Just one little warning and he’d never become a vampire slave.  Your hand pulls on his pant leg. 

The world around you both is too blurry to see where you are, but you hear string instruments and jovial laughter.  It takes a second tug on Astarion’s pants to get his attention and when he looks down at you. Silver eyes are looking at you and your little body is frozen. 

Astarion’s brows arch, the corner of his lips turn down with a bit of disgust.

“Don’t pwosecute the Guh,” you say.  God, being a child is so annoying.  Why are R’s so hard to pronounce for toddlers?

Astarion lets out a fake laugh, as does whoever he is with.

“It seems the young master wants to be a magistrate,” he says.  There’s more laughter around you as you're picked up by two arms behind you, and you’re at least eye level with the elf as you’re being taken away.

“They’ll kill you,” you shout, “dont—”

“Now, now,” a familiar voice interrupts.  It scares you silent.  “I thought we agreed there would be no spoilers?”

You’re set in a more comfortable position as a child should be held, but it’s far from the comforting hold of a parent.  Your head turns, the world beyond his dark eyes still blurry in the memory.  But he’s taking you away from the party.

“That’s not the deal, Waphael.”  The mispronunciation takes away any authority you could have had. As does the higher pitch of your voice.

The devil just laughs as he takes you away, and the memory ends.

A/N: Apologies for the slight cliff hanger, also, let's pretend the memory crystal things give more information than just flashes of images >.>

TAGLIST:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid @troutberryspoon @betwixttheweave @the-pale-elfs-love @kindadolly @bitchyzombienacho @game-savvy @hardbarbarianfox @secr3tlover @stranger-owl @alice4wonderland2812 @donat-senpai @rainbowangel @3dragonstar @starry-crossed @grace-writes-shit

[theyluvlyss]

"...𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐭, '𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞'..."

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

no real summary, just some loose thoughts I have, per the request😙.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x finney blake - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s (🤷🏽‍♀️) - the grabber doesn't exist - finney's dad isn't a p.o.s.😃

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

FLUFFFF - I think I cussed just a little😆🤏🏽 - finney being the best boyfriend you'll ever have in your life - short/small mentions of bruises/scars - me getting carried away

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

It's true, they did. Not that either you or Finney could deny such a claim because that's exactly what it felt like. What it was. Innocent, blissful, doting puppy love.

Who's "they", you ask?

Well, literally everyone. Your parent(s), his father and sister, your friends, his friends, other peers/classmates... hell, even the strangers that looked at you two long enough, observing, could tell- No, feel the love radiating from you two at what seemed like all times.

Which you found surprising, seeing as you two were under the impression that your relationship was kept rather private to the naked eye, but I'll get to that in a second.

Even before you two had made it official, the mutual crush was painfully obvious to any and everyone around. It was in the way your eyes would find their way over to him whenever he walked into the classroom, worry filling them to the brim should he adorn any bruises and/or scars from any bullies of his.

The way he'd fidget whenever you were in his line of sight, biting his thumb at his desk if you sat close enough to him or clicking that space-themed pen over and over again when you breezed by him in the halls.

God forbid you said hi to him when you did. Poor thing would just melt, remember he had to respond back, and then go, "H-...hi...!" when you were already long gone😭.

And oh my god, you'd better believe Gwen and Robin were getting an earful, damn near every topic of conversation somehow circling back to you. Vice versa for Donna, knowing it was no use trying to pry any other subject from that brain of yours because it was all muddled with "Finney this..." and "Finney that..."

So yeah, though elated when you two finally became an item, nobody was shocked. Not even a little.

But anyhow, dating Finney is so sweet, and quiet, and peaceful (if that makes sense). It's just very loving and calming, with LOTS of a reassuring being done between the both of you. I feel as though Finney is just a naturally semi-anxious person but he also masks really well, so for the first while of your relationship, you spent it gently poking and prodding away, letting him know he could trust you fully with any and everything.

It's lots of sweet touches - hand holding, you rubbing his shoulders/back/arms often, him moving hair from out of your face or shooing away small bugs/dust from your person, face cupping - little things that bring about butterflies, even if it's been months (maybe even years) into the relationship😭.

AND THE KISSESSSSJFJEKDO omg- (sorry I just💀🥴-) He's such a huge fan of little pecks, I mean, sure... an actual KISS-kiss or a makeout sesh is fun-cool-awesome whatever, but bro actually forgets how to breathe for a second when you randomly peck him on the cheek or lips. The biggest grin in the whole world just spawns on his face if you bound up to him and the first thing you do is, "Hey, Finn!" and give him a lil' kiss right there on his nose.

And forehead kisses are something sooo special to him. He gives those out left and right, yes he does😌. There's something about them that just makes him feel like he's cherishing you and that he's just pouring all of his love and adoration into you, y'know? Plus, he loves the way you'll watch him carefully each time, too. Like, not saying he's the biggest fan of being watched at all, but in this instance, he doesn't mind and actually wants you to see/prepare for that special kiss he's delivering.

Which, speaking of, he's not fond of PDA. If anything, the most he can tolerate is hand-holding and just a short/small peck when you greet each other. But anything more, he's pretty inclined to reserve it for when you two are alone. Or at most, amongst well-known/close friends/family. Although, he won't shy/pull away if you want to hold his hand under the table/desk. And he won't move away if your legs or shoulders are touching if you two are doing/working on something together.

Cuddling/hugging? Bed and/or couch activity only, and can not - I repeat - CAN NOT be interrupted, or he'll be so salty about it. Again, it's a very special thing for him, getting to hold you, feel you, hear your heartbeat (or vice versa if you're laying on his chest). He gets to just sit and admire you, whether it be in comfortable silence or if you two are quietly talking, using this time to memorize each and every single feature on your face over and over again (hoping you're doing the same for him). So yeah, Gwen waltzing right on in without knocking, or your parent calling you two down for dinner definitely kills that vibe for him.

You might giggle at the way he goes, "mncht..." and rolls his eyes, but baby, he ain't laughing at all💀.

Hell, even you two talking with each other is pretty intimate and soft. He's never once raised his voice at you (even if he's upset), is always asking your opinions/thoughts on things and what the vibe is before moving forward, and the only time you've ever spoken over each other is when you guys are hyperfixating on a common topic and are getting really excited.

WHICH ‼️‼️ omg if you're an astrology girly, lord knows this boy... You got him, he's hooked, he's never leaving you alone. Fate - sealed. While yes, he's an astroNOMY guy, which is more science-based and leans towards a more logical outlook, he loves that with you/astroLOGY comes this inate belief and spiritual outlook. He LOVES that you've attached meanings to the stars and space-stuff that he already really fucks with. Like, star signs and shit? He might not fully understand it (will definitely strive to, though), but oh my god, he practically foams at the mouth when you start listing them off, giving definitions, pointing out the connections between yours and his, etcetc.

And on the flipside, he loves that you let him pop off about whatever he's got in the tank. Black holes, other planets outside our solar system, the possibility of extraterrestrial life, rockets,,, whatever he's spitting, you're all ears without even a shred of judgment.

Plus, like I mentioned, there's a lot of healthy communication/checking in between the both of you. Lots of, "Are you okay?" "How are you feeling?" "Did you eat today?" "What'cha thinking about?" "I'll call you later today/tonight, okay?" type of stuff, along with the silly, all over the place topics and the long, "today was shit" rants, of course.

To try and sum it up/ball up the millions of other things I have running through my mind (I'm trying not to make this longer than it needs to be💀✋🏽), he's basically a huge sucker for the love between you two. Loves that you listen and loves listening to you, loves knowing that you're there (especially physically, like, again, not a huge fan of PDA but really, truly can't get enough of your touches and calming rubs and cute little pokes/boops soooo😗... *cut to Finney wayyy too eager to get to either yours or his house so he can shut his brain off and cuddle with you*). He loves loving you and being with you, like...

AUGHFHSJH and he LOVES making you happy, finding every and any new way to impress you. He likes taking you to go get snacks from the Grab'n'Go; I'm talking the second this man gets a LITTLE bit of change from who knows where, the first thing on his mind is, "What should I get (Y/N)?" Or taking you along with Robin to the drive in when they go see movies, or to the diner to get milkshakes...

In all honesty, anything - spending time with you outside of school - is a date to him. Y'all could walk circles around a small ass park fifty-million times, and he'll drop you off at home like, "I had fun today. Thank you for letting me take you out :)♡." Like what a sweetie😭.

But if it's an "actual" date you're craving, he'll come up with and spend hours prepping little makeshift ideas that he'll enlist Gwen to help him with. Some of his best have been stargazing (with all of the stops, of course - snacks, drinks, books to read and flashlights, blankets and pillows, etcetc.), library dates where you guys spend nearly the whole day skimming through each and every section to look for new interests and topics, 👹CRAFTING!!!👹...

Finney is a craft king, argue with the wall😐.

Point is,,, Finney Blake loves you to the moon and back, and is still in mild shock that you feel the same way (y'all could be married with twins, a dog, and two cats and bro will wake up next to you in the morning like, "...She loves me🥹🩵??"), and if allotted, I'd go on forever and ever.

But I won't😻!

If asked one of these days, though, I would totally be down for writing general headcannons about all of the boys +Donna and Gwen +Max and other adults and characters that aren't canon but might as well be canon in my head because I have SO many thoughts😃...😀...*eye twitches*...

soyeahanywaysBYE👋🏽✨️.

𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬...

for both the long wait and the fact that I went a little crazy at the end, but it's fine xD🩷. I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope it satisfies. I feel like there's some parts where I fell off a little bit and then got back into the groove, but yeah...

good news is, I can only improve from here, so don't be shy to request more :)!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

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anon

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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

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