#listening to hours of sad playlist does not help

[joneevarts]

I just want to be happy but rusty quill said no.

Edit: y'all this is Peter Lukas not Martin lmaooo (tho they do look alike, plus I didn't made his white hair strands visible enough so my bad)

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHT

in which graves are dug up, walls are built, and nobody knows what happened in the bathroom that night.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.6k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

8:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: hey, do you guys remember the first night they met? 

BIRDIE: you mean when we took her to the bar to meet everyone and they very clearly fell in love at first sight? no, doesn’t ring a bell. 

DINGUS: stop being such a fucking smart ass

NANCE: @DINGUS What about it? 

DINGUS: she just called me asking me about it. said eddie was nice until you guys went to the bathroom. apparently he acted differently when you guys came back, but i can’t remember anything about what was said?? did eddie actually start acting differently??? 

BIRDIE: i remember that! thought it was weird or eddie just started overthinking? i dunno. i was in the bathroom obviously.

ARGYLE  😎: oh i remember that night very clearly brochacho

ARGYLE  😎: kind of surprised you don’t, dude

JOHNNY: Oh God yeah @DINGUS you’re living up to your namesake dude

NANCE: You really don’t remember, do you? 

DINGUS: @NANCE and how the fuck do YOU remember? you weren’t even there, nance. you were in the bathroom as robs put it.

NANCE: Best friend privileges. You really might want to remember, Dingus. 

BIRDIE: @NANCE message me real quick? 

DINGUS: hey! no fucking whispering! that’s not fucking helpful! @JOHNNY @ARGYLE  😎 what did i say? 

NANCE: @BIRDIE I will. Let me call Eddie first.

—

HOUR EIGHT - 11:00 PM

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop - you were trying to sleep. If anyone asked you, you could have honestly defended yourself. The couch was uncomfortable, your back aching as you repeatedly twisted back and forth to just try and find a minute of rest. Your mind was reeling, still replaying all of your moments with Eddie leading up to this night. Suddenly, you were overthinking it all. You couldn’t differentiate between things that really happened, or things that you’d simply blown out of proportion due to your innate need to spin the narrative of Eddie being the villain. 

“Yeah, I… I think she’s sleeping.” 

You hadn’t even heard Eddie opening his door finally, your back facing the hallway as you stayed curled up tightly. His footsteps are heavy as he gets closer to you.

“She’s… uh, she’s on the couch.”

Immediately, you can hear a shrill voice shouting over the line. It’s hard to miss. You can imagine the way he’s wincing, holding the phone out from his ear in an attempt to not let her scolding damage his ear drums. 

“I didn’t think she went to bed!” he hisses, trying to stay quiet, under the impression you’re still asleep, “I- Jesus H. Christ, Nance! Calm down, calm do-” he’s cut off as the anger over the line still leaks into the calm air of the room, “No. No, I wasn’t- I was going to let- Nance. Please, can I get a fucking word in?” 

You hold your breath during his pause, and the clear scolding, Nancy’s scolding, finally ceases. 

“I wasn’t going to let her sleep on the couch,” he says slowly. You almost turn over, almost face him and show him you’re very much awake and not sleeping. “I didn’t think she’d go to bed while I was in there. I thought… I thought- Jesus, I thought at worst, she’d snoop through my shit. Maybe go for a walk or something. I didn’t- I just… Fuck, I needed space. It’s just been a long night.”

Nancy’s voice is no longer audible, but it’s clear he’s listening to what she has to say. You’re nearly overcome with guilt; you’ve done plenty of things wrong, but to eavesdrop on a private conversation? It might be your worst crime against Eddie yet. 

Suddenly, he says, “It’s just been a lot.” 

Something in his tone has changed. It’s gone soft, whispering from his lips in sudden muted blue. It’s a type of sadness you can’t quite place – it’s the kind of mourning you’d seen in his eyes in the photo. 

Nancy must say something, because he hums in response. It’s obviously not good enough of an answer for Nancy over the phone, because her voice grows back to audible levels, less shrill, more stern. 

Eddie answers with words this time. “I… I think I do.” 

He thinks he does what? 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

He’s more sure in his answer the second time around to the unknown question. The guilt grows. Inflating, turbulating, ready to crack your ribs. The vines are no longer there to hold you together.

You’re put out of your misery when Eddie murmurs out a bye, Nance and you can hear his phone snap shut. If it were just a mere few hours ago, one hour ago, you would have made a comment about it - you would have joked again about what year it was, how maybe the two of you should get to sleep so first thing in the morning, you could drag him down to the Apple store to get a normal phone like the rest of you. But you’re not a time traveler, and Eddie is still an ocean away from you. 

And you’re not a strong swimmer. The water’s were rocky, were vicious, and if you dared to try and backstroke to his side of the water, you’d surely drown. He had to come to you. 

You’re praying he comes to you. Eyes tightly screwed shut, still resembling a ball on his old couch. 

Please reach out for me, your mind screams, please wake me up. Please tell me to come back to bed with you. Please tell me we can forget all the words said in the kitchen. Please, please, please. 

You don’t know where the pleading comes from. But whatever gods and goddesses may exist, whatever higher power in the Universe that would normally ignore you, hears out your silent pleas. 

His hand is warm when he first grabs your shoulder. 

It’s not rough, surprisingly gentle as fingertips press into your clothed skin and the first shake comes. It’s hardly enough to rouse a truly sleeping person. And Eddie realizes this as the second shake is a bit more firm, moving you a little more with a soft whisper of, “Hey, wake up.” 

The command isn’t as harsh as you’re used to from him. It’s crushed velvet, smoothing over your skin like the blanket you’d previously pondered for, making the guilt begin to deflate. A slow release of air and the accompanying feelings of dishonesty and disloyalty leaves your chest weathered when his next whisper comes not only louder, but closer.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta get up,” he insists, but all you care about is his cologne. He never changed it from that first night. Always something warm, always something spiced. And you hate it, because it’s still the feeling of coming home from a long week, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll carry you if I have to.” 

That makes your sleeping facade crack. Your lips betray you - one twitch, and Eddie knows you’re awake, pressing you to roll onto your back. 

“I know you’re awake now. Let’s go,” you can hear the dimples in his tone. You can picture the lazy smile, the shining eyes. With your eyes closed, you can pretend you never had to meet mean Eddie. When you’re not looking at him, it’s almost as if the man you initially met still exists, to have and to hold, to make inside jokes with as you let the scenery around the two of you fade to black. 

You crack your eyes back open to find him looking down at you just as you’d expected, but not nearly with as much mischief or mirth as you had craved. 

The Eddie you first met is gone. He’s not coming back, and you can’t live with your eyes closed. Hell, maybe he had drowned in that ocean between you two as well. 

Maybe if you took the leap, just attempted to take on the waves, you’d meet him somewhere at the bottom of it all. 

“I thought you said you’d carry me?” you tease. 

His hand. His hand is still on your shoulder, and his palm is still searing you. You couldn’t pull away from its burn if you tried. 

“I’d carry you if I had to,” he corrects, “You’re awake, therefore, I don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know. I think my legs may be broken.” 

Eddie says your name firmly. It takes you off guard, momentarily distracts you from the way he squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you out here.” 

You decide against putting up any further fight. You’re just happy he’s talking to you again. How odd and peculiar that feeling is. 

You rise from the couch and take him in. He’s no longer in his jeans, having traded out his earlier day clothes for something more comfortable. A pair of comfortable grey sweatpants, one or two sizes too big with the drawn string pulled to its limit and tied into a knot. He’s wearing a faded band shirt, loved in every way possible: it’s been cut along the bottom to shorten it in length, several holes torn along the torso and in the neck hole, the once black fabric now a stormy shade of grey far darker than the sweatpants. There’s a logo across the chest, peeling away at the edges. 

“Deftones?” you ask, squinting to make out the words written amongst the logo, “What is that? A band?” 

He chuckles, almost in disbelief, before he realizes you’re serious, “Wait, you’ve really never heard of them?” 

You shake your head, “No, are they any good?” 

You’re still making no move to stand, Eddie towering over you as you tilt back to meet his gaze. The disbelief is morphing, ever changing, pulling in and out of his features like the sea against sand. Like the waves of his self-imposed ocean that taunts you. You only dig your toes into the sand, you only stand at a far enough distance to not get your feet wet yet. You’re not ready to dive in. You’re not brave enough yet. 

His chuckle this time isn’t in disbelief. 

“Yeah, yeah. They’re great. I can show you them later, if you just come to bed.” 

The game of teasing and begging is over, and you refuse to push your luck. He’s talking to you. Normally. You finally stand and shrug off that hand on your shoulder, finally trying to get your wits and not glance down at the waistband of his boxers. 

“Okay, lead the way,” you gesture before spinning your upper body around with your feet planted in place, a soft crack coming from your back. 

There’s no words exchanged in that brief walk to the bedroom; there’s nothing else to really say. The fight happened, Eddie locked you out, you’re both having to start from square one. The ocean still calls to you, and there’s nothing you can change about it. 

His room is the same as it was hours ago, when you’d locked yourself into it. A little messy, a little boyish, but comforting all the same. 

“A couple ground rules,” he finally breaks the silence. Oh, this oughta be good. “One, no more looking through my shit for…. Uh, magazines.”

“Trust me,” you hold up a hand in defeat, “Learned my lesson the first time. You can keep your gross Playboys.” 

His brows wrinkle in minute irritation, “Gross? They’re not gro- You know what? Whatever. Yeah. Stay away from my gross playboys. Second rule, I have enough pillows we can make a… wall, I guess?” 

You have to bite back your amusement, you have to remind yourself of the roar of an ocean. Maybe if you taste the salt on your lips again, you’ll remember that this is all temporary. 

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. 

“Obviously that means staying on your side of the bed. And it’s not a big bed, obviously, so-”

“What side of the bed do you prefer?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He’s dumbfounded despite the question not being a hard one. “The bed – which side do you prefer?” 

“I, uh, I-” he brings a hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he rubs his curls that are matted at the nape, “The left, I guess? Or I mean, if we’re looking down at it, it’d be the right, but…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the side he’s referring to, the one closest to the wall, “You know.” 

A nervous Eddie is a sight to behold. The fidgeting, the flush of his neck and cheeks, the stuttering sentences. He’s nervous about sharing a bed with you. 

“Perfect,” you offer a smile, although you don’t think it does much for him considering he’s looking down at the ground in bashfulness, “I prefer the right side. I just refer to them by left or right when you’re laying down, by the way.” 

You don’t have to add that tidbit – you don’t need to reassure him that your mind works in the same way as his in the slightest. But you do, and the red of his cheeks lightens. 

“Cool,” he murmurs.

“Cool,” you echo. 

The awkwardness can be afforded as the two of you straighten out the comforter, not needing to focus on shaking hands or fluttering chests as Eddie climbs in first and begins to rearrange his spare pillows as a barrier. His sweatpants slip down a bit lower as he does this, and you catch sight of the band of his boxers.

The band of his boxers pressing into the jut of his hips. The streak of alabaster, soft and unmarked unlike his arms, and the coarse patch of hair that interrupts the center of it all. 

“Have you ever considered getting hip tattoos?” you blurt out, and immediately, you both freeze. 

You really need to learn to think before you speak. 

“Uh… what?” Eddie chuckles nervously, presenting an opportunity to redeem yourself. 

He didn’t even have to catch you staring. You’d outed yourself.

And yet, you choose to double down, to take the embarrassment in stride as if it doesn’t phase you, “Hip tattoos. Have you ever thought about getting some? I think they’d be pretty sick.” 

Your self-destruction pays off when Eddie smiles up genuinely at you. Sugar coated sweetness, a bit of authentic amusement. 

“You’re right. They would be pretty sick.” 

He should have mocked you for staring at his hips. He should have taken the opportunity to embarrass you and run, but the tides are shifting between you two, and you keep taking two steps closer to his ocean. The sand only grows colder and colder the closer you get to the edge, and it has your mind reaming with the possibility of what it would feel like to recklessly dive in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that again, this time into the microphone,” you make a fist, an invisible microphone in your grasp as you thrust it out towards Eddie. 

He laughs. He laughs, and its reverb travels through the caverns of your chest. Suddenly, you’re sipping a watered down Amaretto Sour and his breath smells of Jack & Coke, and the lowlights of the room have become treacherous bar lighting as you lean into his shoulder, sitting side by side on bar stools. 

The echoes still carry as he swats away your hand, eyes squinted with the mirth you’d be seeking out since he ‘woke’ you up, “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, a funny idiot.” 

“Oh, now you’re just pushing it too far.” 

“Too far? I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.” 

Why don’t we ever hang out? Why don’t we ever banter like this when out with the others? 

It’s so easy, easy to continue to giggle as you turn out the bedroom light before crawling into bed with him, feeling his warmth radiating even through the pillows between the two of you. Pillows, oceans – they all have started to feel the same. 

Once the two of you have settled, you on your side and Eddie on his back, a nicer sort of silence blankets you. It’s almost as soft as his voice when he woke you, almost the same type of crushed velvet if you don’t reach out to it. But if you were to touch it, brush your fingertips over the material with intention and inhibition, you’d find the roughness. Roughness that mimics sand amongst an ocean’s waves, a roughness that says there’s more to be spoken about. 

“The bed’s nicer than the couch,” you speak out loud rhetorically, not necessarily to him, but to the coarseness. To the sand and to the fake velvet, “More comfortable.”

“I know,” he answers to fill the space. I know, meaning he’s slept on his couch. 

It makes sense. It’s his couch. But your mind runs rampant with the scenarios. Did he discover this through afternoon naps after hard shifts? Or maybe after one too many night outs that ended in collapsing face first into the cushions because he was too drunk to make it to his bedroom? 

You jump when he sits up suddenly, “Fuck.” 

“What’s your problem?” you twist from your position of your back facing him, squinting into the darkness.

“The photo.”

“What photo?”

“Photo evidence, you idiot! We have to send a photo to those fuckers.” 

You had nearly forgotten that this is what this is; your friends and a bet are the pushing force behind this all. It’s not fate, it’s not the moon bringing two tides  together. You didn’t happen upon his beach because you two decided to give this, whatever this was, a fighting chance. 

You sit up next to him, crinkling your nose, “My phone’s in the living room, I think.” 

“I can go get it.”

An offer of chivalry you didn’t even have to ask for. 

Same as him sharing the bed. Same as him paying for your meal when you forget your wallet, or catching you when you trip up steps outside a bar. You really wish the list would stop growing. 

He’s shuffling out of the bed, down the line of pillows and off the end of it, before you can even protest. You didn’t even tell him where the godforsaken phone might be besides that it’s in the living room. That doesn’t stop him. 

It feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a full minute, before he’s returning back to the room. He’s looking down at the phone, your screen lit up and basking his face in the only light in the room. 

“What is it?” you can only assume the chat is messaging for a photo, by the scrunch of his brows and the small part of his lips. 

“Nothing.”

That was the first thing that made your stomach drop.

The second comes when he returns to the bed, fighting his way up into his original position, handing the phone over to you as you glance at the notifications. 

A notification from Steve. A private message, not sent in the groupchat. 

STEVE-O: i’m sorry, i really don’t know what happened that night. the others won’t tell me either so they’re kind of useless. whatever it was, i don’t think it was you, though, honey.

Honey. Mother fucking Steve Harrington, and his need to use nicknames. 

“All good?” Eddie asks, as if he didn’t just have access to this message, as if he doesn’t know what Steve’s said. You don’t know why the thought of Eddie seeing Steve’s careless nickname throws you over the edge. You just assume he’ll take it out of context, that he’ll spin it as a weapon against you. 

“Fine,” you curtly reply, opening your phone and ignoring the message, going straight to the group chat and opening your camera. Your heart is still racing in terrible inconvenience as you glance over your shoulder at him, “How do we wanna take it this time?” 

“I don’t know about you, but I personally just love to take it laying down-” 

“Are you trying to make a sexual innuendo right now? Because if so, stop. It’s terrible.” 

More giggles, more chuckles, more taunting waves of a daunting ocean that is scaring you less and less. Maybe the jump is worth it. Maybe the initial chill will break and show you warmth. Maybe it would never be cold to begin with. 

At least he’s teasing you, which is a good sign. You lay down in the same position as earlier, this time Eddie propping himself up to peek over the wall of pillows so his face is in the picture. 

It’s too dark to really see your faces very clearly. You can still make them out, to be fair, but it’s hard. You have to strain your eyes quite a bit to make out the mess of your hair and the indents of Eddie’s dimples.

Eddie’s dimples. His dimples. Oh God, he’s smiling.

“Turn on the flash,” he reaches over, invades your space with boy and spice and nostalgia to tap on the screen himself and do as he had just requested. 

“What was the point of telling me to do it, if you were just going to do it yourself,” you grumble, trying to yank the phone out of his reach. He only leans further, pressing into the boundary of pillows, his collarbone knocking against the back of your shoulder. 

Warmth. So, so much warmth. It occurs to you that it’s not just the smell of his cologne that feels like a long week’s homecoming; his touch and presence can manage to do the same, when he’s not being a pest of course. 

“Shut up and take the photo,” he bickers before giving up and settling back into his pose. He even adds to it, throwing up a peace sign with the hand not holding him up.

You can’t help but tease him for it, mimicking the motion with your own hand and failing at holding back your tittering. When you tap the button to take the photo, the screen flashes white and you both immediately groan before rubbing your eyes. 

“Fuck.”

“Wow, bright idea.” 

“Was that a pun?” Eddie stops mid eye rub, side-eyeing you, “Fuck off. That was a terrible pun.” 

“I never said my puns were good!” you try to defend yourself, blinking to bring relief to your scorned irises and focus on the photo of the two of you, “I said my jokes were good.”

“Puns are jokes.” 

You completely ignore him, and instead sigh deeply when you see the photo, “We need to retake it. No flash, this time. They can adjust brightness on their own time.” 

The photo is terrible, truly. The photo captures the moment somewhere between your enjoyment of copying Eddie and the pain the two of you had brought upon yourselves. Squinty eyes, coiled lips. Two peace signs of two drastically differently sized hands. 

Don’t you dare, you scorn your mind at that trail of thought, don’t even start that comparison.

“Why?” Eddie protests, once again beginning to lean over and take a closer look at your phone, chest brushing your shoulder again, “Oh, c’mon, it’s fine – just send it so we can sleep before they bother us again.” 

You just shake your head, already reopening the camera app and being sure to adjust the settings. No blinding this photo. 

“Say cheese, pretty boy.” 

It’s not until you’ve tapped to take the photo that you both realize what you’ve said. 

Pretty boy.

Eddie is leaning in still, just as he is in the photo you’ve taken, and both of you look far too happy to be sharing a bed. The words – the nickname, the compliment – are still formed on your lips in it. If the flash was on again, you’d see the blush of his reaction. 

Neither comment on it. You won’t lean into your embarrassment for a second time tonight, and Eddie isn’t in the business of teasing you cruelly anymore, it seems. 

You can hear him swallow hard before he asks, “Is that one good?” 

“Fine,” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Um, yeah, it’s good. I sent it.” 

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

The awkwardness is stifling. Heavy and drowning and goddamn stifling. 

You toss your phone far too quickly onto his nightstand, wishing the bed would swallow you whole. 

If you two were friends, it would have been mindless teasing. The same as when Steve calls you honey, or Robin rambles about how hot you look on a night out. But you two aren’t friends.

You two aren’t friends because of some mysterious change that occurred in Eddie while you went to the bathroom. You haven’t forgotten the burning question, and the longer you two lay there, the more you let it consume you rather than regret. 

“Hey, Eddie? Can I ask you a question?”

He’s laying flat on his back as he answers you, hands nervously wringing on his stomach, “You just did, but sure.” 

It should be a good thing. He’s still teasing you, it’s still a good thing. But all your questions die in your throat. 

What happened when I went into the bathroom that first night?

Why did you turn so cold towards me?

 Was it my fault?

Why aren’t we friends? 

The last one doesn’t go down without a fight. It reverberates and battles you, it tries to pull you into the ocean head first. 

Why aren’t we friends? 

“Do you still drive a motorcycle?” 

That sure was a funny way of asking what you needed to. 

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly puzzled by your random question, but nevertheless he says, “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” 

You’re picturing him stalking away from you again, without so much as a goodbye, straddling the bike and tucking his head away into the motorcycle. The last glimpse you’d ever had of everything he could have been to you. It’s enough to make your eyes water, your bones shake, your toes curl into coarse sand until they bleed. 

The next time you hear his voice, he’s whispering your name. You don’t respond, and so he tries it again, saying it a bit louder this time. 

“I know you’re not asleep. No one can fall asleep that quickly.”

“I can,” you snap, still choking on his waves and personal mourning, a yearning you need to find the grave of once more to bury – for good this time. 

“Clearly, you can’t,” he shuffles, but you don’t check to see if he’s sitting up. (He’s not, he feels like his back is glued to the bed). His voice is back to crushed velvet and kindness, vulnerability and softness, a sort of home you can never return to, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

That piques your interest. You turn, laying on your back and looking at the same ceiling as him in that moment, “For what? Earlier in the kitchen? Or at the bar?” you feel his flinch, and are quick to add, “Because consider it water under the bridge, okay? You’re forgive-”

“I mean for everything. I’m sorry for… everything.” 

Everything. Ten letters, four syllables. It means a whole lot more than it should be capable of. 

“Everything?” your voice is hardly audible as you turn to look at him. He’s half hidden by the wall put between the two of you. But if you squint, if you adjusted the brightness, you wonder if you’d see his eyes shining with the same remorse yours burn with. You wonder if you’d see the dirt caked under his nails from also digging up graves he shouldn’t have tonight. 

“Everything.”

Ten letters, four syllables, one leap of faith. The ocean isn’t as cold as you’d thought it would be. 

—

BIRDIE is typing…

DINGUS: i swear to god rob. if you’re not about to tell me what the fuck i did that night, you better lock your phone and just go to bed. 

BIRDIE stops typing.

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[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Comfort | GN!Reader Warm Tea and Hugs

CONTENT Gender neutral reader, reader is ugly crying, shared home, hugs, kisses, comfort, fluff, established relationship, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES Pick your favorite character and read! The wording might not perfectly fit all characters I’ve listed so I apologize for making anyone too OC. Also feel free to pick a character I didn’t list! This fic is for you and your personal comfort :) Also! If you’re reading and you’re feeling down, I hope this is able to help even if just a little bit. Just know you are indeed doing great and you’re not alone. Please take care of yourselves! Mwah.

ITADORI YUJI, OKKOTSU YUTA, TOGE INUMAKI (SEE NOTE 1 at the bottom), Gojo Satoru, KAVEH, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, THOMA, KAEYA, CHILDE, VENTI, Tighnari, Xiao, Kamisato Ayato, MARIUS VON HAGEN, LUKE PEARCE, RAFAYEL, Xavier, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kuroo Tetsuro, SABITO, AMAJIKI TAMAKI, NITORI AIICHIROU, HEARTSTEAL APHELIOS (SEE NOTE 2), Heartsteel Ezreal, SHXTOU (vtuber Shoto), Howl, OR any babygirl man <3

WORD COUNT: 996

You weren’t unfamiliar with the current feeling you were having but it still sucked nonetheless. You’ve been having a bad day, week, month, basically it’s just been sucky. One of your preferred ways of coping was just to cry, sometimes with your sad playlist to get it flowing. Basically, let it all out with a good cry and hope it gets better. You were fine to cry alone, if anything it was better that no one had to see you like this. You could ugly cry all you wanted and not have to be perceived. But both fortunately and unfortunately your boyfriend came home a few hours early. He was supposed to be out for work until early tomorrow morning but he wanted to see you and surprise you by coming the night before, albeit late at night. He called out your name happily to locate you within your shared home. You trust him so when you heard him you didn’t feel the need to hide or pretend you weren’t crying. You called out his name to signal you were in your room and immediately he could tell something was off. Your voice was hoarse and cracked and so he quickly put down his stuff to speed walk over to you. When he opened the door and saw you crying he immediately rushed to you to envelop you in a hug. “Baby what’s wrong?” he said with a slight pout and concern in his eyes. He loved you so much and just wanted to make you smile and happy, he knew that emotions were normal and that having a good cry is good, he even does it himself sometimes heh. But he hates to see you cry, it breaks his heart a bit. He ushers you to the bed so you can both sit and hug comfortably. You tell him that it’s just been a lot and you rant a bit about your troubles. You don’t say a lot but he doesn’t need to hear the details to know how you feel and how to comfort you. “I’m so sorry darling. Listen, I love you so much and I’m sorry you have to go through this right now. I wish I could take this all away for you and maybe I can’t but I know that I can try my hardest to try and help. You’re such a sweetheart and a gentle soul and you deserve the world.” He gives you forehead kisses as he wipes your tears with a tissue he grabbed from your table. He hugs you tight as you ugly cry a little from his words. “You’re doing amazing, darling. You’re always doing your best and I hope you never forget that. You’ve told me so much about you and your past and I hope you know how strong you are.” He strokes your hair and your back as he says this. You feel his heartbeat, his body, and the vibrations of his voice against you as he speaks. “Let it out, we’ll get you a snack, and we’ll sleep, you can deal with whatever else tomorrow. For tonight please just rest, you always work so hard.” You pull back to give him a small nod. He smiles at how cute you are even while crying and gives you a long, reassuring kiss. He cups your face with his hands and wipes your tears a bit with his thumbs. You both pull back and you croak out “I’m sorry that you had to come back just to worry about me and comfort me.” “You always take such good care of me, this is the least I can do. Let me know how else I can help support you. If you need more hugs, kisses, reassurance, or anything at all, just tell me. Okay?” He says warmly, smiling at you with soft adoration in his eyes. You nod again as tears flow out because he’s treating you so sweetly. “Thank you… I love you so much and I appreciate you,” you say, half crying, as you kiss him. “No need to thank me baby. I love you so much too.” You sit with your foreheads pressed together for a bit as you finish crying. “Let’s get you a snack sweetheart,” he says while standing up and offering you his hand. You nod and smile.

He holds your hand all the way to the kitchen and it makes you giggle and your heart flutter. He makes you both cups of your favorite tea but decaf because you need to sleep! He grabs you some of your shared collection of snacks and you head back to the bed. You finish your tea together while chatting about his recent work/mission and you both feel warm from the tea and also just from each other. You put down your cups and lay down to cuddle. He turns the lights off and wraps his arms around you. He lays on his back to let you sleep on his chest with one arm around you and the free one brushing through your hair. “I love you so much. Never forget that. I hope that you also love yourself as much as I love you because you deserve it. If you can’t right now, that’s okay, we’ll do it together, slowly.” You share a few more kisses as you tell him you love him too, that you’ll definitely try, and that you hope he loves himself like that too. Your hearts are full as you drift into sleep together. Maybe the future will be nice, but even if it isn’t, it doesn’t matter. You’ll always have him and he’ll always have you. He’s given you the power to love yourself and you’ve given the same back. Life will inevitably get hard but you feel like that you might just be able to face it because you’re not alone. You both doze off into the night, smiling in each other's embrace.

NOTES (YES I KNOW THEY CAN’T TALK LOL HERE ARE MY EXPLANATIONS) NOTE 1: personal headcanon that will be in Inumaki’s own fic eventually: Inumaki learned to not funnel cursed energy into his speech for short periods of time and he uses it for when you really need to hear his voice, you can also help him suppress the cursed energy by blocking it with yours by mentally aiming it at his throat. NOTE 2: since this is for heartsteel Aphelios (because I haven’t researched regular Aphelios’s lore enough yet) it seems that he can still talk, he just chooses not to. He lost his ability to sing but I haven’t found anything that says he can’t speak or use his vocal chords. In game, he still has the ability to yell or grunt when he’s attacking or even doing his emotes. I just headcanon that he doesn’t like how his voice sounds after losing his singing voice (even though you reassure him he really does sound the same) and it also strains him to speak for too long. But, he will speak to you commonly in short bursts, or will speak when you need to hear him.

|| MASTERLIST <3 || Thank you for reading! ||

[lvlyhao]

『when he's on tour / MARK LEE』

A/N: thoughts on how mark would be as bf when he's away on tour :(

gifs used in this are not mine and they will be removed if requested!!

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), comedy (☼)

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i swear a bit maybe???

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © lvlyhao 2023.

--------

mark is usually pretty clingy with you already, but he turns it up to the max before a tour

being away from you like that is one of the parts about his job he hates the most, and yeah, he knew what he was signing up for since the beginning

but he can’t help but be heartbroken about it every. single. time

the other members know him well enough to give like a 2 weeks notice for him to get his shit together and spend as much time with you as humanly possible??

cus otherwise, he’ll get caught up in rehearsals, schedules and whatever else and then the day before they leave be like

“oh shit”

and if that’s the case we all know mark is gonna be miserable during the whole thing right lmao

yeah mom taeyong isn’t letting that happen

(again)

mark normally sees the time before a tour as an opportunity to check off a LOT of things from your couples bucket list

like, do you have any tv shows you’ve been meaning to watch together? you’re binging it today

you wanted to visit that coffee shop right? get your coat, you’re going rn

you wanted to buy matching bracelets yeah? he’s already got them

and it’s just a very fun, loving time for the both of you

it keeps you busy enough not to spiral about what it’s gonna be like not seeing each other for months

:)

of course, it doesn’t work 100% of the time

especially at night, when mark’s about to fall asleep, the loneliness of not having you around starts to seep in

and it’s like he says goodbye to you in his head before it happens irl

which is 1. sad as heck??? and 2. kinda suffering through it twice, cus he always thinks he’s gonna be more “well prepared” for it this time, and that’s never true

by now it’s probably pretty obvious touring is a very dramatic experience for him right lmao

johnny’s always like “bro it’s just a couple months you’re gonna be f i n e” but for mark it’s,,, not that simple

he’d rather say bye when it’s just the two of you, maybe at your place or somewhere nice

it feels a lot calmer when it’s like that, cus then it’s tight hugs, some kisses and mark saying he promises he’ll text you every day and call you as much as he can

and yeah maybe one of you lets a tear or two fall down but it’s fine

now

if you go with them to the airport

it’s gonna be so much more chaotic like holy crap, trust me, not going is the better option

if for some unknown reason you’re like “no i’ll go with you to catch the plane and we’ll say bye there”

there’s gonna be a lot more crying involved

cus it’s one thing hugging you bye when his flight’s in 6 hours or so, but it’s a whole other thing when everyone’s already boarding and some other member is trying very hard to be gentle but he has to go NOW

it’s all so rushed he can barely even tell you he loves you :(

mainly bc he wanted to keep hugging you until he absolutely had to let you go

oh well

mark is 10000% the type to ask you to put together a playlist for him to listen to during the trip

he can be a bit of an airhead at times but he does his best to keep you updated on how he’s doing, where he is right now, things of the sort

so he tries to text you the moment the plane lands, when they get to the hotel, when he’s eaten

and it’s not even just texts

it’s a cute candid selfie AND a text

now

mark is definitely not the best photographer in nct

but he will try so hard to take good pictures for you

cus all he wants is for you to feel like you’re there with him, seeing all those cool places

having said that, most pictures do turn out to be crappy

but he’s willing to ask for help from another member so it’s all good lmao

(i’m looking at johnny, jaemin or tyong tbh)

sends you a picture of every single dog or cat he sees

absolutely every single one

keeps a clock in your timezone in his phone so he knows the best times to text/call

speaking of calling

i’m sorry to tell you you’re not getting a one on one facetime session with him

it’s just not happening

like it may last 5 minutes tops, but that’s the time it takes for someone to hear your voice/barge into his room and immediately ask to talk to you

haechan, johnny, yukhei and baek do that a lot

but normally the other members follow lmao

it’s 50% to annoy him but 50% bc they genuinely wanna see you

it doesn’t bother you too much cus you know

they’re cute or whatever

he’s not really the type to get small trinkets from every place he goes to bc that’s just ??so much??

instead, he’ll probably get you one really nice gift

like this huge plushie he had to carry around himself on their way back home bc no one had enough space in their bags for it

or a new perfume he thinks you’ll like

i love him your honour

one last thing bc this is already way too long

mark is the KING of backstage pictures and TMI's about the other members

like at this point you have enough blackmail material to torture them for 6 months minimum

and tbh it’s mainly haechan when he’s with dream/127 and jongin with superm lol

but he keeps it varied

you end up with even some derpy jaehyun pics, best case scenario

he’s already making plans on how you are gonna celebrate him being back home

…and it most likely includes building a pillow fort and watching marvel movies but i didn’t tell you that

[badcaninecemetery]

[a list of overhaul headcanons that i've been obsessed with + soft x reader imagines]

he's kind of low-energy, so i imagine a lot of his hobbies would be similar.

given his physique, he'd probably enjoy working out, exercise, and/or yoga. he'd listen to documentaries about scientific discoveries while doing the mindless and repetitive movements. he'd intently watch a creative recreation of the discovery of tiktaalik and then forget he'd been cycling for over an hour.

i definitely think he'd be into reading too. typically he reads autobiographical nonfiction, but i'm sure he could be swayed into more literary nonfiction. he'd also read academic/scholarly journals/publications. he'd spend hours reading and reading.

playing strategic/mentally stimulating board/card games would interest him too. it's to keep his wits sharp, and perhaps hone in his poker face more and more. he probably did this a lot when he was younger, but then it became a hobby so he just does it to keep his brain thinking.

he'd also be into things like wine making or custom metal work, something that he can build and create. chemistry is something he really would enjoy, and there are endless possibilities there. he probably brewed beer and things like that when he was younger to earn pocket money and get himself further out there, but it stuck around too.

along those lines, he spends a lot of his time studying and working on his technical skills. he has many things he has to practice and learn, and i don't think his hunger for knowledge is satiable. he'd dedicate time for learning languages that might help him one day. science and math become some of his favorite things to do to pass the time—it's like doing crossword puzzles to him.

when he was really little, i think he probably tinkered with model kits. he's a little too shy to show those off though, but they're still hidden away in a closet just in case he ever wants to attempt them once more.

—

imagine kai tells you that he has a surprise for you, so he leads you into the living room and reveals with a gesture a board game. his eyes are crinkled around the edges, so you know there's a smile underneath that mask of his. you'd play with him, only for him to obliterate you every. single. time. it's typically chess because he teases you that it's your skill level—and you should be glad he didn't pull out the checkers board (or worse, go fish).

imagine watching him fiddle around with experiments. he shows you the elephant toothpaste one and you both would watch in horror whenever it starts exploding out more than it was supposed to. whenever you ask what happened, kai admits that perhaps he shouldn't have been focusing on your reactions as much. but whenever he's not doing anything in particular for you (and he totally doesn't do those things to impress you), the two of you just parallel play in the same room. he's busy, writing notes down in that doctor's scrawl of his and staring down intently through his bulky jewelers loupes; while you're relaxing on the other side of the room, perhaps doing something quiet and easy like drawing, or knitting, or writing, or researching.

imagine soft jazz in the background during these things. kai slowly turns to face you with a hard stare whenever you start playing your mix of sad jazz. he shakes his head softly, telling you he's not going to examine the medicinal samples in his petri dishes to billie holiday's "the man i love" (which makes him shift from foot to foot awkwardly because of the lyrics). a sly grin starts to stretch across your face as you switch it to old german jazz (the kind that plays in those 1930s men's fashion instagram reels), and you start doing a little dance towards him, shaking your hips and shimmying. kai's eyes are wide, but he's unable to not succumb whenever you lightly grasp his hands and loosely swing his arms back and forth (he's imploding internally).

imagine making him a rap, rock rap, and/or nu metal playlist. it's sometimes heavy and emotional or bitter, and sometimes it's nice for him to lean back and grimace at the ceiling whenever he listens to the words. so you hook up your phone to a speaker, then hit shuffle. his head is leaned against the back of the couch, eyes closed while the playlist cycles through. one second cypress hill is playing, the next it's eminem's fack. kai's face contorts into dissatisfaction before his eyes open and he pointedly looks at you, but you just snicker and say it's like a game of russian roulette. i wonder just how many times this song is hidden in this playlist? kai just sighs in acceptance.

imagine kai gushing to you (in a definitely calm and composed manner) about some or the nonfiction/journals he reads, or documentaries he's watched. sometimes he'll throw a word out there that you don't know, but he's very willing to explain what it means. he's brief and precise whenever he elaborates the information, and he'll offer to let you read/watch the materials too. you'd definitely sit down and read/watch it (even if it doesn't particularly interest you, but you know kai enjoys it).

imagine the two of you getting into stuff to do together like reading theory (you wouldn't stop jokingly spamming links to the communist manifesto and industrial society and its future at three a.m. in the morning—but then you both dipped in émile durkheim and kai was immediately enthralled). or doing something like learning animal taxonomy (you wouldn't stop calling the centipedes little lovers). or something simple like drinking coffee (or whatever you'd prefer at that moment) in public and people watching.

so many little things to pass the time, just brief smiles and witty glances behind coffee steam.

[oscars-thighs]

Since the eras tour just ended and I am not well, I decided to rank how likely each driver cried with the eras tour final concert in a scale of one to ten (please send help):

Lando Norris: 10/10, he sobbed half of the concert and stayed frozen for like half an hour wondering what’s the meaning of life now that he can’t play mastermind anymore

Oscar Piastri: 2/10, he only discovered that the tour ended because of Lando, 🧍‍♂️😐

Charles Leclerc: 7/10, is a swiftie but not a die hard one, got sad with the ending, got a little emotional but not too much

Carlos Sainz: 3/10, know eight Taylor Swift songs and that’s it, thought the concert was fun from the shaky videos Charles showed him but didn’t care much

Max Verstappen: 1/10, doesn’t care about Taylor Swift but P likes her so he heard from her (and probably from Lando and Charles too)

Sergio Perez/Checo: 0/10, “What’s that?”

Lewis Hamilton: 2/10, he occasionally hears her songs and George’s rambling, isn’t a fan but he isn’t a hater

George Russell: 11/10, sobbing from when the countdown started to Taylor getting out of the stage (and a little more after), woke up the whole building with his cries, the police got envolved because they thought someone had attacked him, was wearing his Taylor merch (like, his whole outfit was just Taylor Swift merchandise) and nearly passed out from how much he cried

Fernando Alonso: 5/10, depends. How did his break up with Taylor went? (for legal reasons this is a joke)

Lance Stroll: 2/10, only has two songs on his playlist and that’s all

Pierre Gasly: 4/10, he does like Taylor Swift but just discovered that the eras tour ended the next day when someone told him about it

Esteban Ocon: 5/10, the same thing as Pierre but he gets one more point because alpine dropped him in the last race so he’s extra sad

Kevin Magnussen: 6/10, I have nothing to comment on except that he gives me swiftie vibes

Nico Hülkenber: 3/10, I have nothing to comment on except that he doers not gives me swiftie vibes

Yuki Tsunoda: 1/10, doesn’t know much about Taylor Swift, “oh this song is hers?”, had no idea the tour was ending

Liam Lawson: 8/10, is a big swiftie and got sad with the tour ending but was too busy fighting old man (Fernando) to cry

Alex Albon: 7.5/10, George foeced him to listen to Taylor Swift’s songs, he says he likes her but isn’t a big fan (that is a lie, she was her number one singer on spotify wrapped)

Franco: 8/10, you cannot convince me that this man is not a swiftie, he saw her concerns trought glitchy live streams

Zhou Guanyu: 1/10, he only knows love story and shake it off, saw 5 tiktok posts of the eras tour

Valtteri Bottas: 5/10, he’s a swiftie. Thats all.

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)

previous chapter

(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)

Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table. 

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

-

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party. 

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!" 

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it. 

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize. 

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk. 

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all. 

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

 Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely. 

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid. 

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you. 

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore. 

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

-

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

 But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic. 

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened. 

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms. 

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

-

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis. 

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears. 

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

He tasted like lemonade.

[sweet-peachie]

Thinking about a yandere with a depressed darling.

A yandere who's patient with you no matter how bad it gets. On easier days, when it's just the lingering inexplicable sadness that has you staring off into space every now and then between conversations, he's quick to jump to another topic to distract your mind. When he sees your gaze lower and your brows pinch in thought, he makes your favorite meal under the guise of having been craving it himself. When you're both sitting on the couch and he sees your leg bounce, your fingers trembling against your thighs - he feigns tiredness and leans against you to 'absentmindedly' take your hand in his.

A yandere that on harder days, ones where you can't even muster up the energy to get up from your shared bed, stays there with you for hours on end. Arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your hair. If you're lying down, he'll let you rest against his chest and listen to the sound of his heartbeat - the soft sound lulling you into a state of calm. If you're sitting up, he'll keep his arms around you and gently rock the both of you back and forth, keeping his weight pressed against you to keep you grounded. You enjoy silence? No problem, he finds the quiet peaceful too. You need background noise to distract yourself from your thoughts? He's going on and on about anything and everything he can think of.

He tries his best to only leave your side for absolute necessities at the start of these periods. He knows that taking care of you when you're down makes you feel guilty, so he never makes it seem like he's only doing something just for you (even if he knows he is).

He's feeling pretty hungry. No worries though, he'll just go ahead and order some food from that restaurant you both (read: you) like. No, you don't have to get up from the bed to get it from the door, he needed to use the bathroom anyway so he'll just grab it on his way back!

(He was never really hungry. Hell, he could survive off of the smell of you alone if he could. But he'd be damned if you didn't get at least one full meal in today.)

A yandere that never judges you for your lack of motivation to take care of yourself sometimes. You don't feel like you can take a shower today? That's perfectly fine, a missed shower or two never hurt anyone! You felt too drained to brush your teeth before you went to sleep? That's alright, he's feeling pretty tired too so you're both in the same boat! Even if you're someone who prefers to eat in bed because you don't have the energy to eat at the dining table, he doesn't mind one bit. Crumbs aren't an issue for him, and having to wash the sheets is only a small sacrifice to make sure you're comfortable. Hell, if you didn't feel so iffy about it he'd even feed you if you asked.

A yandere that never in his wildest dreams would ever shame you for something you can't control. But, he does care about your health, of course, so he wouldn't allow you to skip too many days of hygiene without stepping in. One of his favorite things to do with you is shared self-care. If you don't take a shower that day, you can both just take one together the following day. He takes great care in washing you off, lathering your hair in your favorite scented shampoo and conditioner before turning around and letting you do the same to him. If you don't feel like brushing your teeth or washing your face that night, that's perfectly fine, he's already setting up a playlist for you two to dance to in front of the mirror when you both get it done tomorrow instead.

A yandere that, although he makes sure you're comfortable during your more difficult days, still wants to help you gradually recover. If your lack of motivation and tiredness spans over a few days or more, he'll slowly but surely coax you out of bed. First it starts out small, like using the restroom or grabbing something from the other side of the room. And then it moves on to leaving the room entirely, getting you to stay outside for longer and longer intervals until the emptiness is finally pushed to the back of your mind once again - dormant until the next time it rears its ugly head. But that's okay. Progress is slow, and it's far from perfect. And he'll tell you just how proud he is that you've taken a step further, no matter how small it may seem.

A yandere that doesn't consider you a burden for the way you feel. Who doesn't ask what caused your mood, even if the shift was sudden. Who doesn't judge you when you fall back into old habits (now, with larger intervals in between) - your hair getting tangled, your skin oily and your clothes stained. Because no matter what he'll be there with you every step of the way, and he'll happily help you up again and again.

[igotanidea]

All the little voices : J.T x reader

Request: A Jason fic where the reader is insecure.

A/N: the parts in italics are retrospective.

***

It was one of those days.

Those days when she felt inadequate, insufficient, judged and dished. The mere thought of going out of the house was like a slap on the cheek.

She just wanted to rest, to not see people, not compare herself to all the other woman and girls on the streets and at work, ending up feeling like a walking disaster. Not getting lost in her own thoughts, her own head.

But a girl gotta work. And besides, she had that little critic inside her always saying mean stuff, making her feel guilty for not wanting to go out. And she listened, forcing herself to do things that left her even more broken than at the beginning.

Y/N really did like her job, found a way to express herself through it. Mostly, she was energetic, helpful, concerned, smiling and beaming while performing her duties. But after a while, her self-consciousness always started creeping in.

Always.

And it was like a step back from all she achieved.

Those were the days when she would rather fit into the wall, acting like a freaking chameleon than talk to people. Her duties were taking twice as much time, because she got scared of making phone calls and would rather search for the information by herself. Instead of talking to the coworkers in the other department she preferred sending e-mails just to avoid face to face confrontation. And an hour before the end of the shift she realized she was just staring at the clock praying that no one would drop by to have a little chat with her.

Surviving the work, however, was one thing.

The other, possibly harder, was getting back home.

Putting her earphones on and trying to separate herself from reality, Y/N got lost into her Spotify shuffle playlist, sounds of music bringing even more thoughts, plans, scenarios, making her even more insecure than before. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of the oldness of the T-shirt she was wearing, her worn-out shoes, bitten nails and that stupid zit on the chin that she couldn’t for the love of god conceal in the morning. Songs sparked some memories of the words her boss addressed her, about how she could be so much better and how she should step up in work and in life. And that lead her straight into thinking about Jay.

“I’m not worth any of this.” she thought “what does he see in me? Definitely something that is not there. I am not who he thinks I am. Honestly, I don’t know who I am at all. And what if I’m crazy? What if I’m gonna end up as someone I don’t even recognize? I don’t want that. I just want to get home and hide from the people. But I can’t do that” she felt like crying  “there’s so much work to do, so man e-mails and tasks to deal with. And what if I can’t deal with them? What if I’m both ugly and  stupid? What if I fail? What if I’m a failure?!” she didn’t even realize that, but her eyes turned sad, showing that vulnerable side of the girl, who truly was at the verge of tears. Her whole posture was just screaming “please don’t hurt me”.

She didn’t want people to look at her, to see her, and yet, somewhere in her crazy, spinning mind she felt like all eyes were on her, judging, commenting, laughing at her internally. She just wanted to disappear, ditch the grocery shopping, but it was either that or starving since her fridge was absolutely empty. Thank god for the self-service checkouts!

That spinning and turning and worrying made her get back home in a very strange mood with a mix of feelings, she couldn’t possibly contain. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream and walk around and lay down all at the same time.

Slowly the panic started creeping in and it was harder and harder to breathe.

She practically did nothing for the whole day, so why was she so tired. Why was she already fearing the upcoming day, despite the fact that it was barely 5 p.m. and she still had a whole evening to relax?

“Come on, just breathe Y/N. It’s gonna be fine, you are gonna be fine.”  she whispered, hugging herself tightly.

A mistake.

Feeling her own body and those little rolls of fat made her cry out loud. She never had a good relationship with her own body. How could she possibly love or accept something so broken, marked with stretched, imperfections, discolorations? How?  Damn, she just wanted to be pretty and skinny and perfect. For so many times she wished she was mentally capable of wearing a dress or shorts or something more …. revealing. Last week when Jason and she were  shopping at the mall, she stopped in front of the lingerie shop, admiring all those fancy panties and lacy bras.

“You like that princess?” Jason smirked coming from behind her back, wrapping arms around her waist and hugging her tightly to his chest, scaring her to death in the process. “I would love to see you in that, one day.”

“ I…..I …..” she stuttered

“why don’t we go inside so you can try it on?” Jason smirked “I’m most definitely ready to buy the whole shop  for you.”

“Why don’t we just go home and stop goofing around?” she wriggled herself free leaving him a bit dumbfounded

“It’s all right, baby. You’re still hot and sexy for me, even without….”

“Mhm, sure….” She mumbled, her eyes wondering all over, hands shaking and she just clenched her fingers to cover up for that. Hot and sexy, sure…. “You know what I just ….. I just remembered something I have forgotten. I…. I need to go to the mall bathroom real quick, all right? You …. Take that and I’ll meet you here in  a moment, all right? Great….” She did not even let him finish, taking off and heading straight to the one place when she could possibly get some peace and quiet.

She never told him she cried her heart out in that tiny lavatory. Quick make up was enough to hide the stains and reddened eyes.

Why was it all coming back to her now?

Just one trigger was enough to get her completely spinning.

“Y/N!”

“Yes, Jane?” she smiled at her coworker, waiting for the words coming

“I’m gonna need you to take some of my work and deal with it”

“I’m sorry, what? Why would I do your work when I got so much of mine?”

“Cause I’m leaving with the boss. He might promote me into his assistant, you know! Which means I am practically your immediate supervisor, and you shall do as I say.

Jane was not the sharpest tool in the shed and definitely not the most hardworking and she was getting promoted. Maybe Y/N truly was stupid for giving so much of herself to work. Maybe she was just not good enough and too quiet to ever be noticed.

Why the hell was all of that coming back now!?

She wanted to try something new and that’s why the girl found herself at the workout class at the gym. Not entirely sure how to use any of that special equipment, just standing like a statue and observing all those fit girls with their perfect figures.

If that was what Jason was watching every time he hit the gym ……

“Hey, are you new here?” a female trainer with the widest smile approached Y/N. “How about I show you around?” Y/N could tell the other girl was being sincere, but she already had enough. She did not fit in here. Not with her T-shirt and leggings serving as a workout suit and covering all those parts of her body that she was ashamed of.

“Um… I… thanks, but I think I actually feel sick…..” she mumbled, spun on her feet and never came back.

Y/N was extremely insecure at this point. She needed a hug. She needed someone to whisper sweet nothings and comforting words into her ear. She needed Jason, but at the same time never wanted to be a burden to him. To put the weight of her problems onto him. But maybe she could just casually call him up?”

“Jason?” she dialed the number and he picked up at the first signal.

“Hi, princess. What’s up there?”

“not… not much…” she swallowed harshly “I just needed to hear your voice….”

“What happened?” oh, he caught up on that little trembling in her voice and became concerned in an instant.

“Why would something happen?” she tried to scoff him playfully, but it did not work at all.

“don’t play with me babe”

“I need you, Jace” she cried into the phone “I’m sorry, please, can you come?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t hung up.”

“It’s not like I’m in any danger……”

“I don’t care. You are shaken so clearly someone upset you. You keep talking to me. I’m mounting the bike and will be there in like ten minutes. You do not hang up on me.”

She did not . At least not until she heard knocking on the door and very disturbed Jason with disheveled hear, in his leather jacket busted through them, immediately wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

“Jason….” she wriggled a bit

“Hush. Let me hold you for now and then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“What do you want?”

“A way out of my head.”

“Cuddles?” he asked

“please……” she whimpered and he didn’t even hesitate picking her up and carrying her toward the couch.

“I can…..” she protested but he cut her off.

“Yes, I know you can walk, but something tells me your legs are going to give up on you soon, so don’t fight against me.”

He laid her down gently, climbing up next to her and sneaking arms around her.

“ Thank you for coming….” She muttered hiding face in his jacket

“You really left me no choice, baby. That phone call was rather disturbing. “

“I;m sorry” she winced ashamed of taking his time and attention.

“Stop saying you’re sorry! Why would you be sorry? Y/N, baby, look at me” his right hand ended up on her cheek caressing it gently “what…..? Ohmygod…..”

“What?” she trembled. Was he going to leave because she was so needy and whiny and shaken? Was he done with her, like all the other boys in her life before? Not that there were many but still enough to leave a scar.

“You feel like you’re not enough.” He stated simply. “you think you are a burden.”

“What? No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine!”

“You’re not. “ Jason shook his head “I know that look. First handed. I used to do that too. Constantly wondering if I was too much to handle for you. If I was only bringing you down.

“You did?” her eyes grew wide. “I never knew…. Why didn’t you tell me?” she lifted herself up, hand lying on his chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart.

“Possibly for the same reason you did not tell me.” He smiled lightly, but his eyes were sad beyond recognition. “Because I love you. And I never wanted to worry you.”

“Jason….” tears started falling down her cheeks “Baby, you have to tell me such things. I love you too, I don’t want to see you hurt or feeling insecure. Ever. I’m here for you, you know there’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do to make you feel better and …. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so sweet, baby. But now, I need you to think about what you just said and turn those words around.”

“What? How….?” She looked at him, a bit confused but only for a second “oh, you little rascal!” Y/N hit his chest a couple times, before he grabbed her wrist and kissed it gently, lovingly “you played me!”

“Yeah, I did. Like a pro, didn’t I?” he smirked, clearly proud of himself

“You made me cry!”

“And I hate myself for that. But it was needed so you would understand exactly how I feel when I see you like that. I’m not good with words, Y/N, I know I’m not, but the feelings I have for you are right here.” Jason closed his eyes and put her hand back on his rapidly beating heart “ there are no words in any language to describe them.”

“I think I might cry again….”she warned, her face twisting

“Go ahead. Here’s the shoulder, dedicated especially to that.” He pointed towards his limb and smiled widely “Y/N….”

“Yes?”

“I bought that thing you were watching at the last shopping spree…..”

“YOU WHAT?! I’M NOT…..”

“Don’t worry,  we’ll get there baby. I’ll be proving to you how wonderful you are, using every method possible. I’ll make all those little voices of yours shut up. And If that may require taking some things off your ….” His eyes travelled over her body with lust, making her tremble “…. Shoulders” he finished smirking “than I’m game.”

[wrens-versus-the-world]

Four years

Angst to comfort (I think that’s how you say it)

I have a headcanon that Dazai will get random depressive episodes (especially after leaving the port mafia, and having a partner can really help to keep him grounded in these times)

Also, MDNI. mentions of depression, drinking, murder/ killing, and suicide (nothing too bad, but still, heres the warning)

“Please,” he asked, his voice the most pitiful I’d heard it in the many years you’d known him. “Not yet at least. I can’t lose you too.” He said, pulling me into his bandaged arms, holding me close. 

“Osamu,” I said, my own voice shaking, “You can’t keep doing this.” I said, looking up to him, grabbing his face into the palms of my hands. He said nothing, but I knew he heard me. His dark brown eyes stared down into mine. 

“I love you,” I whispered to him, maintaining eye contact, “And I am always here if you need me.” I continued, moving a hand from his cheek to his hair, “but you can’t do things like this.” I said, my voice breaking, referencing the earlier episode, where he had in a drunken stupor attempted once again.  

He remained quiet, and I sighed quietly. I searched his eyes for a few more minutes before deciding that this was something that we’ll work through together, glad that I was able to stop him before it became something too bad. 

Removing my hands from his head I guided him to the couch, “Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand. 

He was still quiet but obliged, sitting down on the couch, looking up at me, with those sad eyes. Wordlessly requesting for me to sit down with him. 

I obliged, sitting down next to him, looking up at him in concern. 

“It’s the-” He started to say something before cutting himself off, opting instead to lay his head down into my lap. An influx of concerned thoughts flooded my mind, 

Is today a special date? I wondered, looking at the calendar on the fridge, as I began to run my fingers through his hair in a comforting manner. 

We stayed like that for a little over half an hour. I had been dating Osamu since before he left the port mafia, although it was less serious at that time. Having been with him for this long I came to realize that sometimes he just needed a rock, and I was happy to be there for him just as he was for me. He was there when I had to leave my organization because they found out about our relationship. He was there when that same organization killed some of my closest friends. And, he was there for many other things too. For my first kiss, first apartment, first car, and many other firsts. 

And in return I was happy to be there for him, we were each other's rocks in the turbulent current that was life. 

Breaking the silence he spoke once more. “Today marks the,” he paused, his voice hoarse from crying, “the fourth year after Oda’s death.” he said quietly. 

We were once again in silence, save the occasional sniffle from Osamu. I gently urged him to sit up. He did so, albeit slowly, but he did. 

Once he sat up I pulled him into a hug, raking my hands through his hair again. “Osamu, it was never your fault, I know that, and so does Odasaku.” I said quietly into his ear.

In response he began to shake, tears wetting my old t-shirt as he buried his head into my shoulder, and held me close. 

He knew he was home then, in my arms, as he let his heart out. 

----------------------

Quick apology, I was listening to a playlist that was sad and couldnt help myself.

[toomuchracket]

okayyyy hear me out. d word matty sick fic either before or in the early days of them getting together officially. matty spotting u at work Clearly unwell and having to physically drag you out, insisting all the while ur fine despite yacking in the work toilet like 5 minutes prior. confiscating your laptop so you cant try go answer emails. dodging ur attempts at work chat for the next couple days as ur getting better

oh yes ok so you're like right on the cusp of dating matty - you've hung out a couple of times and it's been sweet but platonic and quite frankly you're both desperate to see each other more often and more seriously. which makes it all the more awkward when you take ill at work and he clocks it - he rocks up like 2 hours after you start to find you sitting at your desk, skin greying a little bit, wearing your cardigan and denim jacket indoors yet still shivering, despite it being literally early june. and he's immediately side-eyeing like "you alright, sweetheart?", to which you're like "mhmm just chilly", and matty's like "hmm ok"; it's a tuesday and it's really quiet in the office, so he sets up his laptop at another desk nearby and keeps an eye on you while he responds to emails and whatnot, unconvinced that you're actually alright. and he's right to think that and be concerned - you're visibly shaky walking over to file something, and then at one point without warning you clap your hand over your mouth and run to the bathroom. when you come back, looking horrid, matty's like "you're not alright, darlin', i think you should just go home", and you're shaking your head like "nope it's fine i'm fine i'll stay. i think i just ate something weird a couple of days ago. no big deal", but literally three seconds later a wave of nausea hits you so hard that you have to grab the bin from under your desk in case you throw up again; you don't, but it's enough for matty to put his foot down and say "nope, i'm giving you a lift home right now". and you're like "no really it's fine. if i have to go i'll just get the tube" and matty's aghast like "you're going to get the tube when you feel like shit? do you want to fucking die? come on, babe". he's got a point - the thought of puking on the tube is a horrible one - but you're still like "i just don't want to inconvenience you, matty. and also, like, what if i yosh in your car? that would be awful", and matty says "you're never an inconvenience to me, sweetheart, really. just want to make sure you're ok". you swear his eyes soften when he says that, and your heart flutters as the two of you smile sweetly at each other - the moment ends quickly, though, as you double over with a stomach cramp and matty's like "actually, maybe bring that bin with you to the car, just in case", before he helps you gather up your shit and ushers you out to his car. you tell him your address (you're quite excited and a bit relieved to hear him say "oh, that's not too far from me! this is the way i'd drive home anyway, babe. and we're on the same train line"), and thus begins the journey; it takes slightly longer than expected because of roadworks and traffic, which matty repeatedly apologises for, but you're both secretly grateful for the extra time spent together, listening to one of matty's insane playlists and chatting, so much so that you actually feel sad when he turns onto your street.

he parks outside your house and carries your bag to the door for you sweetly; less sweetly, though, he does make you forfeit your laptop "so you can't sneak on and work while you're meant to be getting better. don't you try to argue, sweetheart, i know what you're like". you blush at that, which makes matty giggle - after that, he hugs you and kisses your head, running back to his car before you can even react to the affection and promising to check in with you later. and he does; he calls you after dinner that night to see how you're feeling, and you can hear him rolling his eyes when you say "good. haven't eaten, but i've stopped puking, at least. should be fine to come to work tomorrow". matty's like "oh my god please just focus on feeling better, babe, work can wait. in fact, i'm putting a moratorium on work chat. tell me what you thought of my playlist in the car instead", which makes you laugh, and the conversation is just unprofessional after that. he even pops round with flowers on his way home from work the next day - you berate him for going out of his way just to see you, but you're very touched that he would (and lowkey mortified that this is how he's seeing the flat for the first time, you being an invalid). when you tell matty as much (not the bit about the flat), he blushes and shrugs like "like i said, sweetheart, you're on my route home. and i like seeing you, and talking to you" - he takes a nervous drink of his tea and then says "maybe we should start commuting to work together, once you're feeling better. makes sense, if we live near each other. and i know my mornings would be better if you were the first person i saw after i woke up". you smile back just as shyly like "i'd like that. get you on the half 8 train tomorrow?", and matty's like "it's a date" <3

[aziralock42]

Ok, here is my analysis of each song of the official angelic playlist of our dear ineffable husbands (azira and crowley). I listened to them and I will write to whom I feel the lyrics correspond.

The hidden phrase is: season three (can i hear a wahoo?)

1. Crowley. Him suffering to see Aziraphale leaving with Metatron, is him preferring to stay blind after seeing how he left him alone 😭 he doesn't want him to leave him, and he can only sit there thinking about his kiss :(

2. Crowley. He will still love him no matter where Aziraphale is, his heart will still beat for him no matter what 😭 it's the Titanic song.

3. Crowley. Shit, this one hurt me a lot, Crowley sleeps to dream about him, he describes how Sandman puts him of his magic when he closes his eyes and so he dreams that he talks to him, that he walks with him, that they are together 💔 but the moment comes when he wakes up and comes back to reality where azira is gone "i remember that you said goodbye".

4. Aziraphale (female voice) and Crowley (male voice). Azira convincing himself that the answer (the solution) is not them together, because now there is nothing that can change what happened, maybe things would be better if only he had known how crowley feels about him, he assumes his mistake, and says he thinks about him when he is alone. He tries to pretend that he doesn't spend all his time thinking about what could have been. On the other hand, crowley shows up and claims what's the point of continuing to pretend they are not more than friends, wonders why he would end something he enjoys. Just a sign from aziraphale would suffice, one place and one hour, he would go for it.

5. Aziraphale (I had my doubts, but since in a certain part he asks the lord for something, I think it would have to be him). Aziraphale in love with crowley, seeing him as the boy of his dreams, but then falls into the reality that it only happens in his imagination. He begins to fantasize about the perfect life they could have together. He prays to God that no one will take his love away from him, otherwise he will die.

6. Crowley. Basically Crowley a little bit spiteful HAHAHA he thinks azira didn't even shed a tear so what difference does it make if now that he's sorry and looking to apologize, since he already cried a whole river and suffered for him, it's his turn to suffer. He doesn't forget everything he said to him.

7. Aziraphale. This is beautiful, I feel it's him as he romanticizes the dance and mentions that he loves to hear him read something to him. Sounds to me like an Azira completely in love and how he relates his feelings to a book of love.

8. Aziraphale. This one is my favorite in regards to how beautiful it is, and it's very very aziraphale. This vintage song makes me imagine him gawking at the kiss that has been stolen, as he can't help but think how magical it was and how his lips have never been so strangely arranged. Azira so smitten as he remembers that unforgettable kiss that marked him heart and soul.

9. AZIRAPHALE 😭. It's amazing how well it fits the situation, Crowley wishing to have something with him and be happy together as his dream, while Azira, although he loves him and recognizes that he is a great guy, chooses to keep developing and growing to get that great supreme angel power. I could write an essay on what this song represents so I'll leave that for another post. Something that touched my heart, that I must mention, is when he says "he was sunshine, I was midnight rain", because aziraphale sees himself with pain and sadness while Crowley was his light, but he still chose to leave and go on his way.

10. AZIRAPHALE. Clearly it's about how he hides his pain with a smile, the show must go on. I love that these last two songs very much represent the reasons why he made the decision to leave and helps to understand this poor little angel more.

11. Crowley. This one saddens me because crowley believes that he is not reciprocated, that he is not enough and tries to convince himself that everything will be okay.

5 Crow, 5 Azira + Azira/Crow =11 songs

That's all for today, I hope you liked the interpretation and join me in this pain <3

[mystic-headcanons]

mystic characters + what taylor swift album i'd think they'd like

what's up gamers it's been like two or three years since i've touched this blog but i'm hyperfixated on mystic again and taylor swift, so. heeeeere we go. under the cut because this became a lot longer than i actually wanted it to T_T

i think zen's favorite album would be 1989. i literally don't have any reason other than style has the cuntiest opening out of any of her songs and i think zen would obsess over it for weeks. you could find him humming it in between rehearsals and throwing it on repeat while he works out. along with style, he'd love clean, this love, and bad blood the most.

yoosung's favorite album is fearless, hands down. he has a very fairytale-esque view on love, and songs like love story and today was a fairytale and untouchable fit that view. while they're not on any of his main playlists, they are on all of the playlists he's made for you. if he's missing you especially hard, then he likes to listen to those specific songs and just. lay there and think about you. he rly is just a teenage girl in a twenty-something year old body.

saeyoung's favorite album would absolutely be speak now. it's whimsical and fantastical and just a little melancholy and sad, and i think it fits his vibe perfectly. he'll put on innocent when he needs to be reminded that he can change, that he can be better than he has been; he'll play castles crumbling when he's in a particularly self-loathing mood. and enchanted gets played on a loop the first time he meets you-- it got so bad that vanderwood threatened to tase him unless he shut it off.

jumin's taste in music is sophisticated and, often times, just straight up classical music. he wouldn't have sought out her music on his own-- maybe he became interested because you listened to paris, or perhaps he heard anti-hero on the radio in one of the rare times that driver kim has the radio on. whatever the reason, it was enough to pique his interest in her. midnights would be his favorite album- and the only one he'd listen to in its entirety. you're on your own kid would be his go-to song, but midnight rain, would've could've should've, and dear reader are all tied for second.

jaehee would love folklore. she'd be a casual taylor fan- not really fond of the singles or the hits, but would enjoy her deeper cuts. folklore would be the first album where she loved every song. this is me trying would play on a loop if jaehee was stressed or had a particularly hard day. the lakes would be her all-time favorite song, but mad woman and cardigan would be close. invisible string is near and dear to her heart because every time she hears it, she can't help but think of you.

saeran's favorite album is reputation, but not for the obvious reasons. while he does enjoy it for its darker sound, reputation is his favorite because it's about finding love in the middle of all the darkness and anger. new year's day would be his absolute favorite song- and the one that he associates with you the most. the 'i'm there through it all, through the good and the bad, and i'll help clean up any metaphorical mess you make' message is what had set it aside from any other song, and saeran listens to it on repeat on all of his bad days. he also really enjoys ready for it, don't blame me, and dancing with our hands tied.

jihyun's favorite album is lover. while he'd really enjoy her other albums, lover spoke to him in ways that the others didn't. the archer and afterglow would be tied for all time favorite song- the archer because it speaks to his generalized anxiety, and afterglow because he especially has anxiety within romantic relationships- always had, but it became intense after rika. he craves a love that is soft and delicate, so daylight would absolutely be up there with the archer and afterglow. daylight gets played often once you and him start dating, and he can and will listen to it for hours while thinking of you or cuddling with you. (you've listened to it so much that you could probably play the entire thing by ear.)

[thelunadiviner]

i was tagged by @renegadeem DAYS ago (sowwy for how late this is!) so... it is time!

"9 people you want to get to know better"

3 ships:

valenwind--i mean... come on LOL this one has been with me since i was 11 or 12 (over a decade now!). extremely foundational and, even when i wasn't actively into FF7, has been on my mind ever since i played the game years ago. something something red and blue gays, something something dark hair and blonde hair, something something short and tall. they just fulfill so many good "tropes" and also god i just like these characters SO much its unbelievable. i cannot wait for (what i hope is) the sheer amount of screenshots and screen records of the third part of FF7:R when they are PLAYABLE. the party banter... oh lord...

VKaz--ok... so i am actually a massive Metal Gear Solid fan. i got into it around-ish the same time as i got into FF7 and wow did it change my brain chemistry. there are a few MGS ships that are bone deep in me, but VKaz does something else to me. its blinding. its visceral. its like... wow. it doesn't help that Kaz is probably my favorite character in the game and Venom is sooooo. yeah. cute... idk! but i could probably talk about these guys for literally hours. and it would be incomprehensible. ik this is my squeenix blog but if anyone ever wants to talk MGS with me...

tie (sorry LOL) between akusai and stakhemy--those are so so so different but whatever LOL. akusai is also ages old, one of my first ships. i actually used to be much more into xemsai but akusai has taken the reins. KH is also a decade+ interest of mine (my late childhood/early teen trifecta was KH, FF7, and MGS) so i have so much to say... also i think i am in love with Saix lowkey. now, stakhemy is a new one and much more niche (any Pathologic fans?). i made one of the best character/ship spotify playlists ever for those guys. whenever i think of Rubin i become a little ill. i just find them so fascinating (Patho is super interesting on its own anyways).

first ship: whoooo boy. probably Link/Sheik? LoZ was like. my first ever THING i got into. i used to play pretend in my yard wearing a green tunic and a green santa hat i cut the puff off of to live out my Twilight Princess Link dreams. if not Link/Sheik, then probably xemsai.

last song: Respite On The Spitalfields by Ghost (on a massive Ghost kick because of a friend, its all ive been listening to... my favorite by them is Twenties and/or I Believe)

last TV show: i just watched the 5th episode of Interview with the Vampire this morning with a bestie, but the last show i finished was True Detective season 1 (for the 2nd time... i'm obsessed.. i have a sideblog...)

currently reading: i have been trying to finish Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman for over a year atp but 1. i am a slow ass reader, 2. i started it over already, 3. something sad happened so i got discouraged, 4. im so busy and am trying to learn to get better about reading (ADHD moment)

currently eating: nothing atm but i did have a creme brulee cream puff from one of my fav bakeries (shouldn't have spent the money but my name change court hearing was a success so i celebrated <3)

currently craving: im always craving something i love food LOL honestly the first thing that came into my head was a smoothie... but i also love all Asian cuisine and there's this amazing place nearby that has a bomb Pad See-Ew

thank you sm for tagging me!! i cannot think of anyone really to tag atm so i'll probably come back and do that later when i'm less busy.

[unrealization]

Mukuro's conception of 'love' is extremely one-sided. She is a fundamentally weak person who doesn't know how to live for herself at all. When she and her sister were young, their parents hardly took any interest in their children. Much of their childhood was spent on the streets. The only person Mukuro loved was her sister. For her, that love took the form of protecting Junko. Following her around. Doing things for her.

As Junko undoubtedly realized, this makes Mukuro very easy to control. All it took was to put her in the position where she constantly felt the need to demonstrate her devotion, and just sprinkle in a bit of guilt and shame, and you suddenly had a willing and capable weapon to point at anyone you wanted.

The extremely toxic dynamic informs pretty much every aspect of her worldview. In any other relationship she would never prioritize her own needs, and instead fall into slavish devotion. Friendships, romantic relationships, family dynamics. For her, love has never been a two way street.

As for someone loving her? She simply doesn't think she deserves it. She's so wound up in her own shame and self-loathing that she can't fathom it. Its something she desperately wants, but its never in her grasp. Once she proves herself, once she does this last thing, surely Junko's contempt will go away. Surely so long as she keeps discarding everything but her devotion, Junko will see it and understand how much her big sister loves her. Surely this time.

And she believed that right up until the spears pierced her body. Or she made herself believe it. On some level she knew she was marching into her grave, but its easy to ignore those thoughts when you're just following orders. When you punish yourself for even thinking about straying from the path.

Mukuro does a lot of truly horrible stuff in her life, which should definitely be considered. She kills a lot of people, helps to create the tragedy, and helps Junko take part in atrocity after atrocity.

But, like... I think its really sad. She's honestly kind of a pitiful person and I can't help but feel sorry for her. It fucking sucks that she died the way she did. She basically didn't ever have a chance. That's why I loved Danganronpa If so much, and reading that was what really made me fall in love with her character. If you haven't read it, I implore you to seek it out and give it a read.

Anyway this ended up being longer than I intended. I just rotate this extremely minor character in my head a lot and listen to my 10 hour long playlist I made for her too much. I could probably do another one of these specifically on how I see her relationship with Junko in more depth and the specifics of her feelings toward Naegi. Hell, did I mention I've also put a fair bit of thought into her time with Fenrir and who her squamates were?

TL;DR The girl needs therapy real bad.

[yeonjuxine]

Txt members' love language.

#yeonjun :

when I tell you this man is just hella affectionate

will randomly attack you with kisses and hugs

will just hug you for eternity if he could

when he gets sad, he definitely needs attention

no attention means extreme sulking

loves to hold your hand be it in public, at home, at work

he also loves doing chores together

like on a random Sunday or wtv, just cooking or washing dishes together while music plays in the bg

he loves kissing your face, neck and hands

he loves it when you stroke his hair like he's CRAZY for it

just super clingy or not depending on his mood

get ready to cringe cuz he will use his cheesy pick-up lines any chance he gets

random night drives are the go-to for him

going to the park, walking around the streets at night is his vibe and he does it very often and drags you along

KARAOKE DATES YESSIR

life is never boring with yeonjun ;)

#soobin :

this boi is so soft I can't

he loves loves loves cooking together

loves doing everything together honestly

like cuddling, watching movies together, learning something new together

he's definitely shy of showing affection in public, but when he's feeling confident he will randomly hug/kiss or hold your hand

he's always caring ab you like he remembers the little things you like, supposing a thing you used to like when you were a child, he will make a mental note of that

always brings you to his home to take care of odi together and just talk ab odi for hours

he loves kissing you on your cheek, jaw and shoulders

loves it when you play with his fingers it just brings him some sort of comfort

he makes the worst jokes but it's funny cuz it's rlly bad

#beomgyu :

first of all, you can't tell me this dude ain't hella clingy

he loves hugging you like JUST YOUU

he's the type to make a bunch of playlists just for you

even makes songs regarding ab u

he's so sweet like sugary sweetttt

he also loves teaching you ab music or instruments

creating music together is his muse

late night skating yeeeee

stargazing with you is one of his favs

makes the dumbest jokes but he's funny that way + his laugh is contagious

defo loves kissing your lips and the crown of your head

mans will peck you every second he gets

gets mad and sulky when you don't give him attention ;-;

he loves it when you hug him/kiss him/call him your pretty boy

DON'T HURT THIS PRETTY GORGEOUS SWEET BOI

#taehyun :

protect this man at all costs

um gym dates with him HELLO

him helping you with your workout omgomgomg

he always has his eye on you, helps you whenever you need it without even asking

he is a man of service

will do anything for you like lich rally

he honestly loves staring at you like he will stare at you 24/7 like 👁️👄👁️

you wake up and you see him like 👁️👄👁️

always listens to what you have to say, be it ranting ab random things or anything rlly, he always listens

he loves cuddling like frfr

singing love songs with him before going to bed <3

will kiss you on your forehead, lips and the palm of your hands

he loves it when you put your head on the crook of his neck and kiss him on the neck

just full of fluff hours with this man

#hueningkai :

I JUST WANT TO KISS HIM HUG HIM PROTECT HIM HES SO PRECIOUS

ultimate Loverboy </3

he's a very shy boi but he'll do anything to initiate the conversation first

always tries to make you comfortable and knows how to keep the atmosphere lighthearted

definitely gets shy in public but he doesn't tell you to stop holding his hand or hugging him (he likes it hehe)

when you randomly kiss him on the cheek he gets so redddd like RED from his ears to his cheeks

SMILES FROM EAR TO EAR HDHFHBDH

he definitely loves gift-giving

will give you cute love letters since he can't rlly express his feelings well

will give you plushies :')

he LOVES it when you play with his hair, pinch his cheeks and showering him with kisses

he loves kissing your cheeks (not the other cheeks guys)

I want a kai 😔😔😔