#man how many people are in these I can tag

[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his indifference for dating. As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you��ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나 �� 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[laambfuzz]

—- lunch munch club. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: watching porn late one night when you come across an interesting video. you're taken by surprise when you see the main male star is also the man who's streams you tune into almost daily.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, munch schlatt, mentions of oral, schlatt does purn (duh), open ending.. so we can expand upon this if we're interested.

authors note: hii! the two ideas i had originally can wait, because the lovely @fanficfox posted something about lc!schlatt doing porn and it struck me with inspo. so! everyone say thank you fox, and i hope you all enjoy! ♡

it's not uncommon for you to have some time to just yourself and the stash of porn videos that pop up on your twitter feed

twitter algorithm knows what to give you these days, which is nice. it saves you the hassle of finding a good account

but perhaps twitter knows you a little too well, when you're recommended a video of a guy eating a girl out

and you're intrigued of course, because who doesn't love that? especially when the camera is on her chest, helping entice you into the experience. as if it were you

the video is already a few seconds in by the time you click on it, and you're introduced to the scene with obscene moans escaping the girl

you can see her thighs tremble around the head in between her thighs, her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through the male's hair

you can hear muffled groans from in between her thighs, and you watch as the head moves back slightly, taking a breath

"god sweetheart, you taste so fuckin' good. could stay down here all night and take my sweet time with you."

that's when a shiver runs through your body, because oh. that sounded like.. and you supposed when you looked at the figure of the male, and the hair..

no. you were being stupid. of course you were. why on earth would schlatt of all people do porn. you know what he's like, he wouldn't

but oh, he would. and when he raises his head from beneath the girl's thighs with his lips glistening with her slick, you're frozen

it's as if your mind has short-circuited, because what the fuck?? you have so many questions; why was schlatt doing porn, why was he not making it subtle, why was he fucking good at it?

you don't have time to focus on your own questions, because your eyes are drawn back to the screen. you watch as his slim, naked body crawls up the bed, getting closer to the camera, licking his lips slowly as he groans

"words can't describe how good that was. need you to taste yourself, baby."

and with that, he's leaning over the camera to lock lips with the girl

immediately you close the tab. your whole being is flushed, and you feel hot inside for many reasons

you felt like you shouldn't have seen that, like you were.. intruding. which was stupid, he put this on the internet, there's nothing private about that

you decided you'd sleep it off. or that maybe this was a bizarre dream you'd wake up from not too long from now. anything but clicking back onto it

and yet only 10 minutes later, you had re-opened the tab

the next evening, schlatt is streaming and you try to watch it like normal. as if last night didn't happen

but you couldn't

now, every time he makes a suggestive joke or comment, you're transported back to last night

when he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck mid-stream, you remember how he looked doing it in the video, before he crawled towards the camera

when he licks his lips after taking a drink, getting the remnants of whatever liquid he had consumed from them, you can only see him licking the girl's slick off himself

you felt insane, like you couldn't act normal about it

and maybe it was part of the insanity, but it felt like he knew.

maybe you were just psychoanalysing his every move now, but you could've sworn he was never like this before.. he was

you decided to test the waters with a few donations littered throughout the night

when he has ordered food in and was wolfing it down, there were scraps and sauces across his lips

"are you always this messy? i thought you liked to take your time with things."

when he's reviewing a video and he's talking a lot over a particular section

"you ever been told you talk too much, or do people usually like that?"

or, when he's playing a poorly made hide 'n' seek game with fans

"i'm not sure you're as good at hiding things as you may think."

"oops, 'things' autocorrected in."

every time schlatt hears one of your donations come through tts, he feels a shiver run down his back

he knew his little side hustle wasn't exactly locked behind security, it was just.. out there

maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into your donations for no reason

either way, he's noting down your name on a sticky note on his desk for next stream for.. reasons.

[littlemissmelodie]

⭑Under the Stars⭑

!Onyx Storm spoilers!

Pairing: Ridoc Gamlyn x fem!Reader

Summary: Tagging along with Quest Squad to the Isle kingdom Y/n is nervous to confront her feelings for Ridoc. Realizing that she has forgotten her sleeping bag she is left with few options. Sharing with her squadmate proves to be the only available one. An outcome neither of them ends up having too much complaint about. Only problem, they are surrounded by the rest of their pers.

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, unprotected sex, public sex, fingerring, edging, (very) light exhibitionism and voyeurism, dry humping, praise kink.

Note: This is my first ever smut published and English is not my first language. So please be kind. Other than that, enjoy.

Word count: 3k

After bidding good night to the rest of Quest Squad, as Ridoc insists on calling it, I make my way to my luggage. At the edge of the clearing Èisdeachd is standing, along with the limited amount of items I brought with me. Finding my sleeping bag in the tiny pine of luggage should be no match.

Annoyance takes over when I can't seem to find it. I search through my memory from when I was packing. Quickly I come to realize that I must have forgotten to bring it with me. Fuck.

I weigh my options as I continue to search just in case. 1. I accept defeat and curl up close to Èisde, hoping her warmth will be enough.

2. I ask Ridoc if we can share, taking the opportunity to finally make a move after seven months of denying my attraction.

3. I ask Aaric, who I have slept with before, and will probably be fine with sharing a sleeping bag.

Yep, three it is. No way I make a move on Ridoc this early in our travels. “Coward.” Èisde says amused, making me huff in annoyance.

“Thanks for the input. But I would prefer for the next two weeks to not be awkward.” The thought of having to spend the rest of our island visits in strained silence makes me mentally gag.

“I'd advice you look behind you.” Spinning around at her statement I expect to see caos causing me to be confused at first. Then I spot Aaric beside Molvic already fast asleep. Damn it. Option one it is.

“No rider of mine cowers from confrontation.” Èisde growls, then takes off into the sky.

“You find way too much amusement in this!” I yell through our mindlink, but her shields are already up. Stupid dragon.

“I heard that!”

Despite the many months spent with flirty banter and suggestive comments none of us had ever acted on it. I was therefore terrified of the thought that he might not think of it as anything more than just that.

With a deep breath I turn towards Ridoc who's only a few meters away. “Uhh Ridoc, it seems like I have forgotten my sleeping bag. Would you mind sharing?” I force my voice to be confident. It would be horrible if he knew how nervous this interaction makes me.

With a big cocky grin Ridoc locks his eyes with mine. “Of course not, princess. I'd share a bed with you any day.” Not only is his tone flirty, but he ends his statement with a wink.

The audacity of this man. Suppressing my blush I playfully roll my eyes at him. “Ladies first.” He points to the small sleeping bag. This is gonna be a tight squeeze.

“I'm not sure this is made to fit two people.” I mutter as I crawl halfway into it, leaving everything but my boots on. Slowly Ridoc begins to climb in behind me, using my shoulder to keep his balance. My breath hitches when I feel his warm breath fanning against my neck.

“Then we better move as one.” His voice is low and suggestive when he responds to my complaint. The hand that has now moved to rest at my waist not helping the growing feeling of need.

I shuffle downwards to put myself in a lying position, but freeze as I hear a sharp intake of air from Ridoc, followed by a tightened grip close to my boob. The thought of him being equally as affected by the situation as myself makes my confidence grow. “Sorry.” I whisper, not really meaning it.

He clears his throat before answering. “No worries.” Then he slides down beside me, placing one arm around my midsection. How am I gonna sleep with his mouth this close to my neck?

The sleeping back is tight, leaving almost no place for movement. Its thin fabric provides barely any cushioning from the ground, making me wiggle in place to find a more comfortable position.

A groan is heard from behind me. “I would suggest you stop moving before I do something we both might regret.” His husky voice makes me shiver in anticipation. The suggestion in his warning makes me scream inside. I'm not sure I can control my own arousal for much longer.

I turn my head, causing my jawline to brush against his lips. The bulge I feel against my ass urges me on in my new found conquest. Wiggling a bit more I answer him in an innocent tone. “Don't you want me to be comfortable?”

“I mean it, princess. Don't start the game if you're not ready to finish it.” He almost moans, his lips and teeth gracing my skin. His hand that previously rested around me has now moved lower, fumbling with the edge of my shirt. Butterflies swarm in my stomach. Man does he know what he is doing.

“Ridoc…” I whine, growing more and more desperate for his touch. I angle my head in hope that he gets the hint. One of my hands reaching behind me to trace over his hip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, immediately attacking my neck with his mouth. A stifled moan leaves me in response, spurring him on even more. A trail of marks would surely be visible tomorrow if he continues at this rate.

Meanwhile his hand has taken his way fully under my shirt, brushing the underside of my boob. “Is this okay?” I nod eagerly, not trusting my voice to speak for me.

“Use your words, love.” He halts everything he was doing while waiting for my answer.

“It's okay.” The sudden feeling of his hand kneading my boob in combination with his lips on my neck has sounds of pleasure leaving me. No man has business making me this wet with just some light touches and kisses.

“Shh, princess. As much as I love hearing how I’m affecting you, I'm also selfish and want to keep them to myself.” I stiffen when I remember the presence of the rest of Quest Squad. But the thought is quickly forgotten when Ridoc finds a sweet spot behind my ear. “Good girl.” he praises when I bite back the moan that threatens to escape me.

The more he abuses by breasts and neck in all kinds of ways, the more impatient I become for his fingers to grace my heat. Deciding to take things into my own hands, I begin to grind against his large erection.

“Y/n-” he growls into my ear. With surprising ease, despite the tight sack around us, he turns me around to face him. Before I can react his lips smash against mine, moving in a passionate and needy kiss.

With one hand in my hair he holds my head steady as he takes my breath away with greedy kisses. The other hand moves down to my core, leaving small, teasing touches through the fabric.

I'm practically panting against his lips, bringing up my own arms to tug at his curls. The gesture earns me a small moan, making me grin in response. Oh, how I love the sounds he makes for me.

My eyes are heavy with pleasure, but it doesn't stop me from observing Ridoc's. Pupils dilated and a few shades darker than normal. The hunger with which he’s watching me seems like something taken out of a wet dream. Never in my 22 years of living have I witnessed such arousal in somebody's eyes.

“Please Ridoc-” Desperation for release crawls up on me. The coil in my core pulled tight. At this stage I’m not really sure how I keep my whimpers and moans to myself, or if I do it at all.

“Please what, princess?” The teasing tone he holds only fuels my fire, his fingers working even more efficiently than before.

“So close Ridoc… please.” A change in speed makes me almost come on the spot. This causes a loud moan to leave me, but the thoughts of potential onlookers are long gone.

“That doesn't answer my question, love. Tell me what you want.” Gone is the light hearted, flirty gentleman I’m used to. But God do I love this new side of him. Frustration of being denied my orgasm gnaws on me, but I can't deny that I find it very sexy.

“I want to come, Ridoc. I beg you… Please.” My words come out straind and mostly in whines. The sensation of his finger rubbing me through my trousers making me see stars.

“So pretty when you beg for me. All needy and desperate for my touch.” he whispers in my ear. “Now come for me, my love.” His praise and command leaves no room for argument as I come on the spot. The heavenly sensation of orgasm taking over all my senses.

Ridoc kisses me through it to muffle the moans that escape my swollen lips. His hand is however quick to continue its adventure. Lowering my pants enough to get his hand inside with ease. As I slowly come back to earth from my ecstasy induced state I realize what he is doing.

“So beautiful when you come for me, princess.” He praises in an arousal-laced voice, watching me with hungry eyes. “Not so good at keeping quiet though. What should we do about that, huh?” Though the question seems rhetorical at first, his challenging gaze tells me otherwise.

“I don’t kn-” I'm cut off by the sharp sensation of over stimulation as Ridoc rubs my clit, now without fabric in between. A series of gasps leaving me to prove its effect. He holds me tight as I wiggle to get away from it. Not that I'm really able to anyway, seeing as the sleeping bag seems even smaller than before.

“Too bad…” His other hand trails delicate touches over my body. “I guess I will have to decide myself then.” He slows the pace on my clit, inserting one finger inside me. The new placement does nothing but keep me needy. My whine is returned by a grin of satisfaction, proving that he got the desired outcome.

Releasing one of my hands from the tangle that is his hair, I move it down to his dick. In hope that the teasing I do to him provides me more pleasure, I begin to trace it through his pants. The gesture earns me a quickened breath, but he keeps the torturous pace with his hand. I then move on to unzipping his pants, pawing his erection through his boxers instead.

He growls, grabbing hold of my hand and holds it behind my back. “Only I do the touching tonight, love.” I whine and move to use the hand still in his hair to take over my conquest, but he is quick to grab it, giving me a warning glare.

Withdrawing his hand from my core he releases his cock from his pants, pushing down my own just enough to get better access. “Now be a good girl and keep quiet.”

With that he slams into me, giving me no time to adjust. I bite back the loud moan that threatens to escape me, not wanting to test the waters further. Every thrust takes my breath away, leaving me panting in no time. “Oh God-” The moan slips out of me involuntarily

“I'm honored… Mmm fuuuck, princess. You feel so good, squeezing my cock with your pussy…” Interrupted by my own devlish attempt at distraction by contracting my pelvic floor he starts over. “...I’m honored that you think of me that highly. But Ridoc works just fine, love.” Though my eyes are closed I can hear the amusement in his voice. It's strained and much deeper than normal, making the butterfly in my stomach flutter.

Forcering my eyes open to look at Ridoc I see that he himself is struggling to keep quiet. His eyes meet mine, the heat in them mirroring my own. I gasp as his thumb finds my clit, making me strain against his hold on my wrists. A glare is directed at me, and he tightens the hold. Maybe enough to leave a mark.

He seems to realize this too. His brown eyes flare with possessiveness and a oh so sexy smirk spreads across his face. My reaction does nothing but boost his cockiness. Our staring contest is interrupted by a loud hiss from the both of us. The length of his cock stretching me further than ever before.

“Fuck… I could spend forever watching you take my cock like this.” His breath is hot against my ear. I hum in response letting a small moan leave me when he increases the pace. Every thrust hits the right spot deep within me. I want to scream out in pleasure, but hold it back. My lips now swollen and aching from all the times I've taken them between my teeth to stop a moan.

“Mine” Teeth sink in behind my ear. Oh God. “Who do you belong to, princess?” His voice is demanding, and I live for every second of it.

“You, Ridoc. I belong to you.” Though my breath is ragged, my statement comes out with certainty. His lips connect with mine, hard and desperate. Within the next moment he releases his semen inside of me, our kiss muffling the heavenly sound that leaves him.

The feeling of his cock pulsing inside me has me seeing stars, a reoccurring thing this night it seems. His forehead rests against mine as he comes down from his high. “I hope you didn't expect me to let you come after disobeying me, princess.” He taunts in a hoarse voice, making me whimper.

“Aww, did someone think there wouldn’t be consequences to their actions? Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He clicks his tongue in feigned pity.

“Here’s what's gonna happen. I will make you come alright. Bring you to the edge over and over again. And you are gonna tell me, every time, when you are close. I'm gonna make you beg for that release like your life depends on it. Only then will I allow you to give into it.” Fuck. I’m down bad. Who would have thought that sweet little Ridoc was such a freak.

He brings his hand down, beginning to run small circles around my bundle of nerves. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” I nod in response, dismissing his concern. He grabs my jaw, making me look him in the eye. “I'm serious Y/n. You have to tell me.” His tone is gentle, yet demanding.

“I promise I will tell you.” My statement is followed with an impossibly long while of edging. Ridoc has me making sounds I didn't know I was capable of, all while muffling them to not earn the attention of others.

I quickly lose count of the times Ridoc has me close to the edge. All I know is that as much as I hate the endless teasing, I love it just as much. The world around us has faded away since long, all that matters is Ridoc’s filthy words and fingers.

“I don't think you understand how beautiful you are right now. All hot and bothered, begging me to please you.” The praise is never ending with this man, something that has made me realize that I do in fact have a praise kink.

“Ridoc, plea-” I’m cut off by the familiar sensation of nearing the edge once again. He chuckles and temporarily removes his touch before starting over at a painfully slow pace.

“You're doing so well, love. Just a few more times, can you do that for me?” He leaves a trail of hot kisses down my neck as he brings me to the edge three more times. Always stopping when I beg to be given my release.

“Please, Ridoc- So fucking close Ridoc, please… I promise I've learnt my lesson… Let me come for you Ridoc… I promise I will be a good girl in the future, please.” The dance around the edge has me squirming, begging on a whole new level. Never in my life have I been so desperate for something, let alone someone.

“As you wish, princess.” He quickens the pace, having me strain against him out of over stimulation. It doesn't take long before I crash, screaming his name into his palm. The orgasm is unlike anything I've ever experienced, causing me to temporarily lose all senses but touch. My body spasm in Ridoc's hold as I continue to let out moans and whimpers that might cause people to wake up.

It takes time for my ecstasy mind to come back to reality. Breath heavy as I open my eyes to meet with Ridoc's. Lust and adoration is what watches me. Accompanied by a smile that screams self satisfaction, the man in front of me is all I could ever dream of. “Thank you.” My voice is small, worn out from the song of pleasure. I lean into his embrace, feeling myself already doze off from exhaustion.

“No need to thank me, love. Now go to sleep, you deserve it.” He leaves a kiss on my forehead, making me smile and nustle closer into his chest, breathing in his scent.

Before any of us have the chance to fall asleep, a grunt comes from beside us. I quickly turn my head, only to be met by Aaric who is now much closer than before. Standing only a few meters away he meets my eye. “Fucking finally.” He mutters, not breaking eye contact. His eyes are dark and lustfull, telling me he’s most likely very affected by mine and Ridoc's ever lasting endeavours. A quick look down and the bulge in his pants confirm my suspicion.

Nor me or Ridoc has the time to utter a word before Aaric turns around and walks away. I turn to Ridoc who meets my gaze. We both stifle a laugh, amused by the whole ordeal. The thought of him watching for God knows how long bothers me surprisingly little. Instead I feel a new found sort of excitement.

“Good night, Ridoc.” I turn around, pressing my back against him and close my eyes.

“Good night, princess.”

[boofeine]

Dino's personality – headcanons

WARNINGS: mdni under the cut, descriptive and mention of sexual subjects.

happy lee chan's b-day !!!

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @kooqitas @unlikelysublimekryptonite @kwannibalism

for me, chan is someone very, veryyy emotional!! he really sits on his emotions often. and i think that's why he used to drink a lot (according to members teasing). when i think of him, i think of the knight of swords card on tarot.

he is a very creative being, he likes to try different things and paths within art. even though, not always showing, he looks like someone who is always working on creating something, especially on dancing. i imagine him going to the dance studio to just freely dance.

besides being the youngest, chan looks very mature to me. i think he often thinks alone, so he has a lot of insights from his own experience.

chan looks someone you would crave to talk to when needing advice, he looks wise and good at making you a valid, good point. the type to work out solutions while you talk about the issue.

chan has cicles to me, like there's times when he wants to go out a lot and times where he just wants to stay at home alone and be by himself.

he's soooo communicative, he likes long and introspective talks, he enjoys human connection and having deep conversation with people around him.

part of his own healing it's making other people laugh. your happiness is often his happiness.

Spicy Thoughts

he's romantic guys..... lee chan is a lover!! he likes when sex is more than just pleasure, a little emotional and overflowing with feelings.

think about versatility!! he's good at so many things and up to try whatever you ask for.

i can confirm he knows how to make you cum, he's good good bbs. the man has the sazon !

he's normally on the dom position, a soft dom.

he's very soft, he likes light teasing caresses and slow foreplays. sessions with him are long.

multiple orgams king. i say what i say.

chan gives off to me as a vocal partner, especially deep breaths followed by low moans. the type to hum with his face on your cunt, groan when you tease him and moan on the nap of your ear when he's fucking you.

[meirimerens]

do you happen to have any headcanons about pascal curious and nervous subject? or any other sims 2 character for that matter :p

you get answered with anon from like yesterday #oops i had stuff on my plate teehee but Yes.

the nervous subject:

as far as nervous' #deal is i like to go with the Sims 2 For PSP lore that he willingly (or "willingly" - in quotes to express the murkiness of willingness when you're broke as shit) went in with the Beakers because he needed coin. in my head, like many kids who age out of the foster care system, he found himself age 18 not really having anywhere to go (no contact with the family during his stay in foster care), not really having had the best environment to learn any skill, he tells himself well fml 🤷‍♂️ might as well.

related to his 10 active point i think he's strong as shit. does not look like it (macdonalds_napkin_flying_out_of_window.txt). also very endurant - not necessarily fast, but his ass would smoke everyone in a long-distance run because he can just keep going. this is Not A Great Thing in his current #predicament because that just means he recuperates pretty fast from the experiments and so they just keep happening with little downtime.

bruises easily. and a lot because his prioperception is kind of fried so he's got always a blue spot somewhere.

i've #made #him in my ts4 game with a crooked nose and nose scar (which i draw, the crookedness of the nose translates a bit less since i'm always drawing his ass three-quartered) and those i think he got in foster care. even if he exists with 0 nice point i think that's an Experiment thing, he is not truly a Dipshit, but he's very early become quite rowdy. got into a tussle. got his nose broken. "you should see the other guy". this is also very funny to me because one of my OC has that same broken nose+scar deal

on the topic of My OC Has This in my mind's eye he's got tha Y-shaped autopsy scar. hector I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow [scars like the weird lesbians of my mind] did not really die, still has it. he understands that's probably a Scary thing for people to see + his ass doesn nawwwt want to deal with the question so when his best fwiend and his two Unsuspecting brothers try to get him to join for a relaxing heatwave afternoon in the strangetown pool he's like "i don't want to take my shirt off [THINKS FAST] because i'm insecure about being bony" and they're like "that's fine man no pressure 👍" [clueless]

le pascal curieux:

on one hand the phrase "gayscal bicurious" i had in the tags of my art once makes me hysterical and i genuinely leep fucking repeating it out loud to myself so often. devilish echolalic sound. on the other it is genuinely funny to me to imagine him realizing years later "why the fuck do i have beef with this guy over his gf i don't even like women 😐😐😐😐🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️". he keeps the beef though makes him feel alive #hatermindset #scorpio

after nervous told him "i have some... weird... living arrangement... and my roommates don't like to hear me play music out loud" pascal started putting songs he thinks nervous would like on an mp3 player. nervous gives it back to him every once in a while and update him on his taste so pascal can add more songs next time they see each other.

now not to get too deep into the politics of the sims franchise's mpreg. a pregnancy narrative hates to see me coming. but in my head... while he's a loving father and is protective and kind and genuinely obsessed with his kid once they're born & tutti quanti towards his little scrunkly... i think he lived the pregnancy pretty Lukewarmly. he knew that it Could happen, but well. the household description does mention "[getting] more than they were "expecting."". i think until halfway there he was like 😬 and then the Weird Scientist Brain kicked in and he was like "this is an Experience". pascal curious I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow. Post-Partum Depression (jesting. unless?)

not new of a headcanon because i've drawn it so it's probably obvious I think he's the shortest of the brothers and a Reliable Resident of Stockytown #shawty

bringing together Buddy Erwin Lore and "In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis" i know the inhabitants of strangerville hate to see him hang out by erwin's Listening Station and psychoanalyzing every word that comes out of the mouth of the people he's bugged #nosy

erwin detour because i have this to say:

he drives a two-toned (orange and white) 1980 chevy k30 crew cab. a beat-up thing that he loves so muchhhh. looks like this (but imagine Oinge and not tan/camel)

speaking of cars i have something for Lazlo:

drives a 1986-1988 buick riviera. a purble one. exactly. i see it for him for the little screen inside #vintage #slay

stoner. with peace and love and zero derogatory tone. he feels it makes him think. it does. tbh i see the three dabbling. you're telling me vidcund has this beautiful greenhouse and they don't grow cannabis in there? you know that post that's like. my homie was making edibles and discovered passion for baking now he's a baker. this did not happen to lazlo he knew how to cook and bake completely independantly. but it helps. they let nervous smoke with them and they see him blink normally for the first time.

Ophelia Nigmos my shayla....

she has a Motorola RAZR V3 for phone. it is DECKED to the heavens with stickers and stick-on gems and phone charms

2004 is prime and i mean primeeee pop-punk/emo era (hence why she looks #likethat tbh) and she's deeeep in that. like Simple Plan's "I'm Just A Kid" came out 2002 and i knowwww she's having that shit on LOOP on her mp3 player. due to the fact that She's Just A Kid And Her Life Is A Nightmare

the bloggerrrr i know she is blogging. idk what strangetown could have as a mirror to the 2000s-2010s french "Skyblog" [les vrais connaissent tmtc] but girl... is.... BLOGGING!!!! either a Livejournal or a Blogger.

i just realized how long this poast was #oops but Basically Yes.

[woooshworldtwo]

AT A LOSS

TAGS: WIFE!READER [Originally just mentioned once in dialogue but otherwise just spouse is used when describing said relationship between characters], Husband!Caracalla x Reader x Unrequited!Geta, Mentions of sex, Brief mentions of slavery [gladiators in the Colosseum], Brief mentions of animal cruelty [animals participating in the Colosseum], Historical inaccuracies, I'm not sure what else.

FIRST NOTE: I think I wanted to try accentuating the care he wants to give reader and therefore ends up treating those around him as what he sees them as- disposable and like shit. Geta is a TERRIBLE man so I guess I just wanted him to be pining for someone he knows is out of reach. I was gonna make it a series to like Caracalla x partner reader x unrequited Geta. if this is the first chapter, ngl idk where to trail off from there. i kind of write while im smoking just to fuck around so maybe i could write at least five-ish chapters if i think of a good enough plot. WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE THINK?? who knows i could even do the same with Caracalla, it could make sense cause he literally kills his brother in the movie

SECOND NOTE: pov ur me, high off like five tokes and u watch Gladiator 2 the day it comes out on Paramount+. BOOM, obsessed, love it, don't even care about the historical inaccuracies. For some reason, as someone as not all there like Caracalla is, having that deep relationship with his brother, once he notices that lil interest Geta has, or even just the doubts of others finally becoming to a point where my guy has to LOCK IN to keep his partner w him. not cause they don't love them, I think it would be cause he loves THEM too much. I'm talking bristling at the notion whenever he thinks of them together. JUST UNSPOKEN TENSION. do u guys enjoy that?

THIRD NOTE: unfortunately, i have more to talk about but no one to say it to so ur my audience. yelling into the mic i ask, do you guys think I should write porn of Caracalla and reader FUCKING?? idk if it would even include Geta- IT COULD, WHATEVER YOU GUYS WANT. I sort of just wanted to explore writing intimacy as an actual action instead described as thoughts. leave ur thoughts on what u guys think on that too bc im literally so curious.

PLEASE DON'T COPY MY WORK, I BET YOU

Summer in your lungs, and alcohol swimming in your stomach; Caracalla wonders if he's seen beauty such as yours. Never alone in the hours of the night, the lovers he takes soon notice how harder he is to satisfy, to sedate into a warm puddle wrapped in expensive sheets- instead becoming unflinching to the pleasures that usually melt his tortured mind.

Intense with his emotions, he swears this affection was there from first glance. Taken sight of you at in your hazy glory; the clothes accentuating the shade of your skin, the warmth of your eyes, it only takes months before you two wed.

From there, days are blissful. Misery always follows, but he finds with your company at his side, falling into the episodes of madness are rarer and rarer.

Perhaps it's the sweetness of your soul mending what his lacks, or having the closeness of your body distances the pestering thoughts appearing out of thin air. No matter what is it, with his claws dug into your being- he refuses to let go.

Dimmed by what other's consider insanity, it's difficult not to see Caracalla's growing lucidness. Coming face to face with it, Geta realizes any foes and enemies of Rome has never been as close as his brother has to the inner workings of his mind.

Divided by grace, the affection for you has been its limit. As the eldest, Caracalla bears the pitying glances from other's in the palace; to have the responsibilities laid on Geta is blasphemy, but who else can handle its weight when his mind is in two?

Who else to lessen its everlasting ache if not you? For that reason, such as many others, is why he cannot risk this becoming what he has grown familiar with- sharing with his brother.

Holding the same curiosity he did in the faint moments of childhood, his Adam's Apple bobs faintly- and when you look to follow its movements before returning your gaze to him: a faint shiver is felt and repressed in that same breath. "Caracalla?"

Asking in a murmur, he knows what you're referring to. Living with you these past handful of months, he can recall the number of times you've cut each conversation he's thought out into nothing more than small talk. In one worded questions, he cannot help but admire the relaxed sight of you.

So much so, he allows you to each time. Tossing the unspoken plans of connection for small talk, he nods. A hint of a smile is seen, and alone from that, you beam back at him.

Genuine like the sun, to continue seeing it, it makes it easy for him to keep spew out half thought words in hopes something he says would land. "He will arrive shortly, do not worry.", it ends with your name, echoing from his mouth, and although the God's have given him the same glory they themselves hold at their fingertips; nothing has sounded as holy.

Bounded by faith, the prayers he spills are ingrained in the folds of his brain, but once consumed in these times of power, he wonders if he should dare step closer to the soul he swears should beat for him.

"... Geta?", Unknowing for how much time has past, the beaming smile you once held is melted into a small frown. Quietly urging him to the present like he's seen you do with his brother, there's a warmth blooming in the hallow part of his chest.

Cherishing the brief concern, it only seems to remind him what Caracalla has naturally and what he takes the scraps of.

Still leaned back into the expensive marble, the wall itself is a pale enough color to forget about, instead focusing on the features he, too, fantasizes of in passing moments alone.

"Where did you go?", Too familiar with speaking to the other emperor, the question is thoughtless when spoken, yet its weight is felt nonetheless. "Nowhere. Just here.. Are you enjoying yourself?", Taking a pause, he eventually speaks again. It's done when walking to the the throne nearing Caracalla's; the one you sit in.

"Quite the spectacle.", Your eyes peer down at the sight below; bloodshed in the Colosseum's sand doesn't make your stomach twist like it once did, however when watching captured men swing weapons- and seeing another one fall, you look to him again.

Sitting at his own throne, you find his eyes already on you; a quirk upturning on his lips to show the pleased buzz your words give him. Gladiators from conquered lands, their purpose in Rome is to win their survival and amuse any passing visitors. Yet in the past year or so, since your arrival, he's found a deeper sense of pride at their display.

Growing passed the Senator's praise, passed continuing his parents past teachings, he has found serenity in the amazement you hold so clearly.

Seeing your wonder at the captured animals; their stature towering over the sand's flat ground, using its strength to trample over any competitors- he finds himself chasing the occasional bursts of attention he manages to keep with in your magenta sunlight.

Never promising loyalty to anyone; he chases it when you're unable to give it, the mess of concubines and courtesans who he cannot remember the names nor the faces of, only remembering their similarities to you- their purpose has been asked for more as of late, and neglected all the same soon after.

No matter if it was seeing a person with hair similar to yours, a familiar sounding voice, even just dressed in clothing resembling your own; they were sought out after in hopes of finding you in them.

He finds it only lasts briefly.

Of course sex is endless, at the call of his voice and at the stop of a groan; services are there to satisfy whatever craving he has. But after each round of breathlessness, he finds that hunger for what is missing growing into something insatiable.

Hours spent, feeling their bodies, picturing what your own must look like underneath the white moonlight casting into his bedchambers. Each thrust is heavy with yearning he cannot mend, moaning for warmth he cannot have; he damns Caracalla in those times for finding you first before he did.

Perhaps then would you be his spouse. To bed you the same way his brother does would be true nirvana, to hear those same whimpers he knows you're able to make, to feel you shiver and tighten around him the same way those people do; it's what he longs for.

He's certain then he'd be more than just rough, chasing whatever high is made in a blurry of orgasms- it becomes difficult to differentiate who is with him and who is imagined; not when his eyes are shut and your image is all he sees in its darkness. Tenderness is taught, and if his brother was able to learn to extend that same to you; there is no doubt he'd do the same.

"Are you enjoying it?", Turning your focus back onto Geta, his answer is a hum. The sound is husky from passing thoughts, and strain for what should be hidden; he takes a moment to gather his words.

"I always favor your company, the spectacle is merely entertainment.", Repeating what you said only minutes ago, the unexpressed emotions behind it is registered in your mind- and although brushed off originally, that denial you have becomes harder to not believe Geta's feelings becoming more noticeable in the time spent at his brother's side.

"The ambience of cheering Roman's, animals in pain, and dying men; no wonder we have such lively conversations in these times.", Another quality of yours he finds endearing is your dryness. The harshness soaked into your veins from being raised by your family has not changed you the way it has him he notices; viewing the cruelties of Rome in whatever light you could shed, he once again almost smiles, a quirk of his lips turning upwards showing.

"Complaining to the emperor for the privileges he's given you? What an ungrateful wife you are.", Breaking out into a smile, what is said is anything but malicious. Leaving Caracalla unmentioned; unsaid, his mind is soothed from its ache, mending itself when remembering it's just you and him- hidden away.

Alone in a place where he can pretend you two are more than in-laws, there's a warm stirring at the sound of your laughter. Filled with humor you express so freely, it reminds him of conversations with your father throughout the years; his stories of your youth.

Defiant in ways he wishes he'd seen, and mischievous in ways he knows you still are; the only changes is now you're not tangible. Yet, lost in affections like he never got to be as a boy, he doesn't mind who he's face to face with now. Not in the slightest.

"Forgive my insolence, emperor; I plead for it.", Clearly you speak to Caracalla too much because the shiver trailing up his spine goes directly into that heated feeling in his abdomen. Aware you're unknowing to the effect you have, it only worsens at the hint of playfulness heard.

"Oh, you're forgiven. The God's have extended their mercy onto you today, but be wry, they could change their mind.", Unwilling to give into the arousal brewing, the tension he's created in his body, he replies with a smile- one that lingers too long.

Mischief isn't needed to be noticed in the palace, not with the two emperor's having their souls intertwining themselves with your own- no longer being unheard by those around you, that streak remains. It brings an amusement greater than bloodshed to Geta, and even more so to Caracalla. Smoothness of your words he swears is coated with the sweetest of wines; it disarms what would be seen as scrutiny as nothing more than a jest.

With humor being forgotten in such trying times; outside of what the Colosseum offers, and outside of the different celebrations of another conquered land- Geta finds your spirit is lightening to what is constantly dampening in his.

Shouts of Roman's are heard, like you predicted, and another man falls. However, with neither of you truly paying attention to the sight; their deaths were not offered the same graciousness you're given so carelessly, so frivolously: and when one of the last remaining takes their bow to surrender- only then do you look away.

To see your eyes of amusement grow into something unreadable, his own smile dims into a frown.

Standing from the throne, his hands rest on the Bisellium's railing, he grips onto it tightly when seeing below. Blood stains the sand as always; the deceased laid out over it in the afternoon heat, and the two lone man kneel. Meters away from one another, your eyes flicker between them, and soon Geta speaks up again.

Mercy is yelled in the air, and when he asks you, his voice is quieter than intended, "Shall we show mercy?"

Sparking what was lost, you nod, and another smile is seen, "Mercy."

Prayers do not solve what is inevitable, he finds, not when the God's blood soars through his body. The threat of rebellion, and the stings of betrayal, that mask that hides it all becomes wavering whenever he's with you; wishing to you like he did as a child to the God's for power, to worship you in ways he only should deities- it almost feels blasphemous.

Even more so now, when you don't understand the importance behind what he says; the grace he offers, the laughs he lets slip out- it is only the beginning of what he could promise you.

FOURTH NOTE: Now that you've made it this far, I wanna like drift away from what I was writing on my old account. it was just small paragraphs, but writing on a laptop just HITS DIFFERNT- literal hours spent doing this shit. I don't rlly wanna take requests bc i feel like my time is just too hectic for that, BUT I WOULD LOVE to hear your guys thoughts!! Okay, small series on these characters- Quinn Mossbacher, Simon Kalivoda, Ethan Russell, DIMITRI KRAVIOFF, DANIEL MARKOWITZ, JASON HOCHBERG, and finally our beloved; Caracalla. bad part is I haven't most of the movies they're in, so i don't want it to be inaccurate.

FIFTH NOTE: currently i'm writing a Johnny Storm fic series inspired by the new Fantastic Four trailer (writing the third chapter of what could be a five or even eight part series if I get to understand that franchise better), an Eddie Muson fic mainly just to fuck around and post that old one I never got a chance to. also an Adrian Chase fic i found on my laptop, another one for Koby from the one piece live action (I was inspired when the show first came out), and joe goldberg

FINAL NOTE: I've wanted to get into watching Yellowjackets. LOVE THE SHOW. Another thing I wanted to ask bc when I write for women characters, i like to write them as WLW. SO would you guys like it if i also wrote for Iris (Companion), SISTER BARNES (Heretic), Jinx (Arcane), Lucy Maclean (Fallout), Rhiannon Lewis (Sweetpea)?? one day if i sell out and get a membership to Prime or those silly addons; I WILL.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina, I wasn’t around when My Policeman came out, and I’ve been looking for content, interviews, etc., but I haven’t found much. I even saw that Harry said something kind of unfortunate in an interview about the sex scenes. Do you know if Harry was busy touring during the movie’s release and that’s why he didn’t promote it much? It’s strange since there’s a ton of content for DWD but not much for MP. Or was he restricted from talking more about the film? It’s sad because I feel like MP must’ve meant a lot to him.

Hi, honey. You can see whatever I have in this tag: MY POLICEMAN and MY POLICEMAN REVIEWS

I don’t think any of us know for sure, but it very much seemed like Jeff/people on Harry’s team/possibly Harry himself had a financial stake in DWD doing well. They tied so much of the promo to Harry, his tie, and his fans that it was just embarrassing. Everyone on his team/family made posts about DWD saying how excited they were blah blah blah. It was not quite crickets when it came to MP, but there was nowhere near the type of promo.

Harry’s comment about the sex scenes in MP was a classic case of H not articulating his point very well while trying to be supportive of the film. But the uproar came about because there was so much hate circulating around him because of the “queerbaiting” accusations and because people were sick to death of holivia.

So, he said something along the lines of so often gay sex scenes are just “two men going at it,” but in MP they made an effort to really show how tender the love making was etc. People flew off the handle because “who was this straight man commenting on queer media?” And “there are so many queer films with beautiful sex scenes and he obviously doesn’t watch those kinds of movies” blah blah blah. I felt terrible for him and I remember how down he seemed at his show the night after the uproar happened (I mean, “down” for Harry looks pretty upbeat, but you could tell the difference).

I think MP meant so much to him. He fought for the role. He was so much more serious, articulate, proud, when he was doing MP promo. You could tell how badly he was to be there (as opposed to DWD where it felt to me like l he was just doing his job).

[angelltheninth]

How would star wars character relax their S/O?

A Star Wars request, lets go! Miss writing for this fandom.

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Ben "Kylo Ren" Solo, Rey, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin, Sabine Wren, Shin Hati x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, relaxation, cuddles, kissing, literal sleeping together

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Feel particularly sleepy today. The weather sucks. I need cuddles from my favorite characters.

ANAKIN

Pulls you into bed with him and doesn't let you do anything work related for the rest of the day. Don't even think about anything work related when you're spending time with him, he is your beacon for a stress-free zone. He kisses your forehead while you cuddle, his hands pressing into your tense muscles. Considers it a great achievement when you fall asleep in his arms like that.

LUKE

Invites you to a meditation session with him. Might sounds silly but it really helps relax both the mind and the body, clear your thoughts, let go off all the stressful things of the day. His hands reach for yours, constantly rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands to help you relax further. If you can't relax he will talk you through it, giving you his words of affection to focus on.

BEN

Oh he is not the best at relaxing, in fact he might be one of the worst people in the galaxy for that. But if there's anything he can be proud of is that he really does try to help you de-stress. It's a little aggressive still, he wants to be close to you, give you a few little kisses but passion soon takes over. And while that can help you relax in certain ways you'd much prefer a simple cuddle session.

REY

You tell her she should take care of herself as much as she's taking care of you. This confuses how her. How will this help you relax? Well, if she isn't freaking out about you all the time and how much she has to work to give you the things you want then you would both be able to relax together, which would also mean more quality time spent together.

LEIA

Tells you to get as comfortable as you can be because she's gonna give you the best massage you've ever had in your life. She hadn't given many but she did get a lot of massages growing up. It's the perks of being royalty and she's confident she can help you relax the same way. She goes a little too hard on the knots in your shoulders but eventually she does hear you sigh in relief.

HAN

Will take your mind off anything stressful by telling about the latest heist offer he got. Yeah, the job is pretty reckless, but it sounds fun. He won't really go on this specific heist mind you, the pay is too low for someone of his caliber, but he's telling you how it could go, making you laugh by doing so. Making you laugh is all the reward he needs at the end of the day.

OBI-WAN

Has a whole relaxing evening planned out perfectly by the time you get home, no detail will escape him. It's almost too perfectly planned, so much so that he puts all that pressure on himself but hopes his charming smile is enough to distract from that. Won't put that pressure on you, he only wants you to relax and let him do things for you for a change. You deserve to relax after a long day of work.

DIN

The man is a great listener and cuddler and he will use both of those skill sets to help you unwind. Whatever you need to say to get things off your chest you can say it to him, and he will do his best to take care of the problem. Not necessary by going in and taking care of the problem personally, but just offering advice. But if his personal intervention is necessary he will go in and clean up the mess.

SABINE

Latches onto you whenever she can. She acts like she's a sponge that will absorb all of your stress, she will soak it up and help it melt away. Every time she notices you're feeling stressed, or pent up or sad there's a hug waiting for you, big or small it hardly matters to her how long you want her to hug you. It's important that you know she's there for you whenever you need her.

SHIN

Isn't good at giving advice or dealing with stress. She's not someone who considers herself a stressed person so the feeling is unfamiliar to her, she doesn't know how to help you. That being said she will at least listen, really listen to what you have to say and the reasons why you're stressed. At the end all she can offer you is her closeness, her presence there, but even that is enough.

[crowsofdarkness]

Time: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, and mentions of death.

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky could withstand anything, even time itself.

Authors Note: This series will have twenty one chapters, some of which will be short and quick, and takes place throughout the forties. I did my best to line up the days along with Captain America: The First Avenger. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole @ell0ra-br3kk3r @baw1066

Time Masterlist

March 4, 1942. 3:00 pm.

The bottom of my skirt blew in the wind as I rushed down the sidewalk, passing people by with a quick apology. My shift at the diner lasted longer than I would have liked and I was supposed to meet Steve at the theater twenty minutes ago. 

“Sorry!” I yelled while pushing through a young couple. 

Steve and I had planned on hanging out, the two of us, because even though he hadn't said anything I knew it was bothering him that Bucky and I hadn't seen him in awhile. I worried that he thought I had returned to my promise because I was late. 

Bucky was more than okay with Steve and me hanging out without him. We were friends before Bucky came into the picture, which is why he never got upset with us hanging out. There was also something Bucky had to do today, but he wouldn’t tell me what. 

The last few weeks he had been acting strange and I could tell he was hiding something from me. He wouldn’t allow me to be in his bedroom alone, afraid that I would find whatever he was keeping in there. 

Immediately my mind thought of a beautiful diamond that he could be hiding but I brushed away those thoughts. We had been dating for less than a year. There was no way he would propose. 

Right? 

“Y/N!” 

My feet came to a sudden halt when I saw the small man leaning against the brick of the building behind him. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I came straight from work,” I motioned to my work uniform. 

Steve waved me off. “It’s alright, the movie hasn’t even started yet.” 

Linking our arms together, I let Steve lead us into the theater while mentioning that he had already bought the tickets for us. It was a trash movie that we knew not many people would be here to see but that was the kind of movie we loved. Ones that we can laugh at and talk about days later. 

“Have you heard from Buck?” Steve asked. 

We were waiting in line for popcorn and I shook my head. “He said he was going to stop by the diner for lunch but he never showed up.” 

Steve padded my arm. “Don’t look too much into it/, Y/N. Buck’s not that kind of guy.” 

He knew that my mind was racing with thoughts of Bucky with other women. 

“I know but he’s been so distant lately.” 

“Maybe after the movie we’ll swing by his place and see what’s up with him,” Steve suggested with a shrug. 

I nodded and after we ordered our snacks, we continued to walk arm in arm towards the dark theater. We both were surprised that it was somewhat packed but we were able to find a spot in the middle row. 

Everything passed by great while waiting for the show to start but when a man a few rows in front of us started yelling and throwing things at the screen, I knew that the peace had vanished. There was a clip playing about the current war going on overseas and I could feel Steve tense up next to me. 

He sighed before leaning forward towards the guy. “Hey, you want to show some respect.” 

The guy ignored Steve so I gently patted his knee, telling him to let it go. 

“It’s not worth it, Steve.” 

The man wasn’t what had pissed Steve off, it was the fact that no matter how many times he tried to enlist, the government continued to deny Steve. Bucky and I both knew that it was slowly eating away at Steve that he wasn’t able to enlist. My mind was swirling with worry that Bucky would get his orders to fight. I hadn’t stopped to think of how Steve had been feeling with being told no over and over again. 

The man in front of us continued to hurl words, loudly, towards the screen. Steve couldn’t take it any longer, anger radiated off of him. 

“Hey, you want to shut up!” He yelled. 

My body tensed when I saw the man in front of us, twice the size of Steve, stand up and look directly at us. Worried eyes bounced from Steve to the man a few times and before I could part my lips, they were making their way out of the theater. My hushed protests fell on Steve’s deaf ears. 

“One of these days, that poor boy is going to get himself killed,” I sighed while gathering my things and hurriedly followed him. 

His signature catchphrase of whenever he fought bullies, ‘I can do this all day’ bounced around in my mind. 

By the time I reached outside, the chilly air causing my skin to rise, I knew I was too late in stopping the fight. The sounds of flesh on flesh, metal cans falling to the hard pavement lead me to the alley behind the theater. 

The sight in front of me caused my jaw to drop, mouth catching whatever bugs were flying around. Steve was dusting himself off while the man from the theater lay on the ground, blood pooling from his nose. That wasn’t what made my feet come to a sudden halt; it was the man dressed in the army uniform. 

“Bucky?” 

He turned on his heels and with his bright eyed smile, he reached for my hand. “Where have ya been, doll?” 

I ignored his question and motioned to the uniform. “Did you get your orders?” 

Bucky heard the shakiness in my voice so he hesitantly nodded. “The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for London first thing tomorrow.”

I nearly choked on my own saliva at his announcement. 

“Tomorrow?!” 

My echo jumped off the concrete walls of the alley. 

Buky nodded with a soft sigh. “I know, sweetheart. I thought we would have more time but I spent the last few days getting everything in order with my ma so we could have my last night together; with Steve.” 

I couldn’t help but giggle in my sad state at the thought of once again, Steve third wheeling our dates. 

“Don’t feel like you have to include me,” Steve interjerked which caused Bucky to shake his head. 

“I want to spend my last night in New York with my favorite people,” He looked between Steve and I. “You two need to get cleaned up.” 

“Where are we going?” I questioned. 

Bucky handed me a newspaper that read World Exposition of Tomorrow. He was one of the biggest science nerds we knew so it didn't surprise me that this is what he wanted to spend his last night doing. 

No matter how bad my heart was hurting, not knowing how long he would be gone for or even if he would return, I plastered my best fake smile and nodded. 

“Pick me up at my apartment around six?” 

Bucky twirled me into his arms, his soft lips finding their home against my own. The kiss was slow and passionate but quick when Steve sighed with uncomfortableness. 

“Wear your best dancing shoes, doll.” 

I smirked before molding into his body once more, pressing our lips together again. “Always do, Buck.”  

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

I would love to recommend @tomtomslongdong as a *reader* highlight. It is always such a joy to see what they’re reading but also to read whatever comments and tags they leave behind. Let alone to be a writer and receive their feedback. One of the greatest supporters in the fandom, truly if no one else cares for a fic I wrote but they enjoyed it, it’s like the ultimate stamp of approval.

This week, we're highlighting @tomtomslongdong as a commenter! All recs this week will be from her recs.

Tomtom answered some questions about what she does to find fics and to leave great comments under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I went from casual watcher in anticipation of season 4 coming out to falling in love with all the characters in the space of a few weeks. Friendship, loyalty and messy family dynamics are such a core part of st, which is something I latch onto when I’m watching anything. And maybe.. there were some characters(Eddie) that I grew even more fond of(definitely Eddie). I even remember seeing edits of Eddie at the picnic table but it wasn’t until I had watched that first episode of season 4 that I truly got it. It’s been 84 years but I’m still in love with that man.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to read?

I read x reader the most but I adore platonic stobin and I wanna read about them more. Their dynamic is everything to me. Infact Robin with any of the st girls too. I look up this one fanart of robin and Carol Perkins a lot. A LOT.

How do you typically find fics?

At the start I would brave the tags more and I do still do that but genuinely it’s from blogs I like and follow reblogging them. I’ve curated my own little balance of people reading stuff I know I’ll like and also being introduced to fics I might not have even thought of reading before seeing their reactions.

Are there other forms of fanart you enjoy? How do you find them?

Fanart that’s been inspired by fics or concepts, just witnessing one artist inspire another is so joyful. Also when an artists self inserts themselves into their art! It’s seriously one of the coolest things ever. My favourite thing to do is trawling the tags of an eddie blog as I go on a deep dive. I scrape the barnacles off that boat allllll the way back to the start. I find all sorts of fanart and work that maybe I’ve never seen as I didn’t gravitate back to tumblr till later in summer ‘22.

What's your tip for leaving comments on works?

Just tell them how it made you feel man. Scream it at the writers. I’m no good at articulating myself at all but sometimes you read the exact thing you needed to read and all is right with the world. Let them know they’re very much to blame for your emotional state when they post. And who knows those writers might occasionally grace you with the biggest gift of all (more lore on the world they’ve built directly from their mind via an IV drip known as the DMs)

Is there any fanwork that really stood out to you?

hockey!eddie has an iron tight grip on me and if anyone could find the stats on how many times I’ve viewed dr-aculaaa and hearsegrrl art on him, you’d take my phone away

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

Just that it’s wild, there’s this little community in my phone that’s so smart? So talented? And I’ve formed what I hope I can call genuine friendships from this and yet no one in my day to day real life knows I’m just kicking around in here haha! I get to be my weirdo self with my weirdo friends in peace and I think that’s lovely.

[muntitled]

I fear you have written the only age gap sado-masocist daddy dom salesman series we needed.

It’s getting repetitive and lackluster in the tags because you beat everyone to it, which is crazy since your series is well written and engaging. It’s insane how you were able to capture the essence in such short time. The. everybody followed👀 (Leave it to a black woman be naturally talented and set trends👏🏾)

Although you haven’t finished, I’m seeing character growth from the salesman that I have not in other fics. It’s… pitiful; people have had months and yet I see nothing refreshing. They just writing p*rn now, no thought into the matter. I like a little no plot every now and then but we losing recipes. PWP is dying just like it did in visual p*rn. (If you ever seen a 70s-80s film yk🤭)

It honestly feels like they’re playing a game of telephone with your fic😬 I am desperate for something new to read😭 I’m in my 20s but the submissive college girl vs sadistic older man trope can only be done so many times till you wish every girl believed old men had worms.

I don’t wanna see another fic if it’s not yours.

Also I have to praise you for your formatting and tagging because it’s rough in the tags.

Anyway I just wanted to give you your flowers, and I can’t wait for your novel💖

💐💐💐

I LOVE BEING VALIDATED BY BLACK WOMEN RAHHH

Writing this novel is low-key eating my mental health. I have so many questions, like is this a romance? A thriller? Whats going onnnnnn

Idk but I'm trying!

**girl gimme the details on those 70s-80s films you're talking about

[varian212]

I came across your comment by accident, honestly. Over time, I’ve made it a habit not to follow too closely what’s being said online about the books I love; I know I’ll find opinions that will make me write way too much.

But that was my mistake, for checking the A Little Life tag. Foolish me, hoping someone had made some fan art or an interesting post. Instead, I stumbled upon what you wrote.

The following lines are not just for you but for everyone who shares your perspective. So take a seat, and don’t hesitate to respond with the same level of engagement that I’ve put into this.

I think you’re so absurd in your post, it’s almost worrying.

A Little Life is not just a book about homosexuals, Jude is not just a homosexual, and the story is not just about sexuality. It’s a book about people’s lives, with both good and bad stuff happening. And don't come here an say that there weren't any good moments, that'll only show me how your brain is fixed on one thing (hating the book) and it's blinded by everything else.

And welcome to Earth, where Hanya doesn’t need to make gay men suffer, that already happens. I invite you in Rusia for a weekend,do you know what would happen to you if,as a man,you'll walk on the streets wearing girly clothes or makeup? And I don't mean you'll get cat called; that's literally the best case scenario.

But your post only shows how privileged you are, how protected you are from what happens in this world. Turn on the TV, read articles, watch the news – do you think Hanya invented these kinds of monsters, these kinds of traumas? I assure you, no, she just wrote about them.

And what a strange thing, to bring up sexuality so much. Especially when a good part of Jude’s traumas happened when he was a child, then a teenager.

But your first concern is not "What the hell, how can she write about this kind of stuff happening to a child?" but "What the hell, this author has a fetish for gay people." As if, for you, it’s more important that Jude is gay than that he is human .

There are so many books like this but where the main characters are women and no one says anything. Guess we are already used to know about them getting raped,assaulted, beaten. Turns out it can happen to everybody.

Your empathy for gay people seems superficial, like the kind that’s only displayed on social media; never vocal in real life.

And you know what's even worse? Your audacity.

Let me tell you a little story : By chance, I am a volunteer for an organization called Save the Children.

Last week, a little girl was brought in, and I had to take care of her. Do you know what the problem was? Two soldiers entered her family house, destroyed everything, and raped her mother in front of her and her two younger brothers.

After her mother lost consciousness, they did the same to the little girl. And they did it so violently that she lost the ability to walk for the rest of her life. A few punches to the left side of her skull resulted in damage to the motor cortex, combined with strangulation, which led to hypoxic brain injuries. That’s all it takes.

I’m not saying this to shock you—I just want you to know that this is just one child out of millions of similar cases. Real life children,real life people.

Will anyone speak up about this? Probably not. Will the military court do anything about those soldiers? In the worst case, they’ll give them a few days off, and then they’ll go right back to doing the same thing.

Again, Hanya Yanagihara (cuz yeah,if you leave a hate comment,have the decency to write her name correctly) didn't invent shit. Those evil people are literally alive and well among us.

Now imagine I go to this child, look at her, and say, "You've been abused too much. What you've been through sounds dreamlike. It sounds like trauma porn, if I’m being honest."

Please read this paragraph again.

Do you see how it sounds? Do you realize how ignorant you are about everything that’s happening? How much comfort you have in your life?

Do you care so much about a woman who wrote about gay people? Why don’t I see you being just as vocal about men who have written about lesbians, white people writing about black people, healthy people writing about those with disabilities?

Why aren’t you just as disturbed by criminals writing about being victims?

Those things happen in real life too,and yet you are more concerned about a book.

Maybe this post will be read up to this point, and maybe it will wake up some of you privileged, upper-class white people commenting on your iPhone 16 Pro Max.

We don’t choose how we are born or what education we can afford up to a certain age, but at some point, it becomes our responsibility to educate ourselves.

Do you know what I do when I hate a book, an idea, or a movie? I learn absolutely everything about it. I get my information from five different sources to make sure it's reliable. I try to reason, to find opinions that contradict mine, as well as those that agree with me. In short, I become so familiar with every detail of what I'm trying to criticize that my arguments are as valid and verifiable as possible. That's what I call effort worth noticing.

If you're gonna be a heater at least pretend to be a smart one.

i could never read a little life, cus its a reminder that just like bi men in gay porn, women are infesting the whole niche of writing about gay male main characters and overrunning actual gay male writer who would love to write about actual gay male character and they also always use those gay male characters to punch down or project their own self. A little life is literally just a het woman writing about a gay man and putting him thru everything to the point it becomes just torture porn and for some even unbelievable to the point of being dreamlike. That writer (hana yanagihari) literally only writes about gay men who were raped in their childhood and suffered their whole life after, she literally wrote the same shit 3 times!!! 3!!!!! She is obsessed with having gay men suffer.

This is always a dead giveaway to me that someone doesn’t conceptualize gay men as actual people so their writing exposes them by showing how they use gay men as archetypes or plot devices to send a message or push an idea which sends me back to the heyes code cus thats their unknown undercover bible.

Like at its core there is no empathy towards gay men.

[blizzardsuplex]

Deep Dive Masterpost pt. 1 - Instagram

Spent a couple of days plumbing the depths of several social media sites for Roddy-related content and found some fun/silly stuff I haven't seen posted anywhere else, LOL. There are so many pictures that I'm stuffing them (and any potential commentary) under a cut.

Tagging @mobiblackout, @btybbcedes, @sadiesm, @christiancagesupporter, and @moxapologist for these. Hard to believe so many of these were taken over 10 years ago now.

[Right: Dojo Bros!!!]

[Right: yes, that's him and Eddie Edwards at Eddie's wedding.]

[Right: apparently he loves dogs.]

[Left: I just really like this pic. Blue!]

[Left: one of my fave pics of him, NGL.]

[Left: floating around on Pinterest somewhere I think but it's too good.]

[LOL @ Bobby and Trent noticing his left nipple]

[Right: context is apparently his football team didn't do so hot.]

[Right: the hair, LOL]

[:pleading_face:]

[Him and Dalton in Japan.]

[The caption...haha]

[Left: romance isn't dead!]

[Left: also one of my fave Roddy pics; Right: RIP Kyle, that one's for you Sadie LOL]

[Left: Halloween costume; Right: Christmas sweatervest]

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Ik it's a bit early but I can't believe it's been almost one year since this post

Btw yeah its real

[lucabyte]

heres your highly requested fluff you fucking animals

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.