#no these lab partners really exist I'm not making this up

[fauustic]

hi hi! i'm not very active on tumblr anymore but i came back for miguel o'hara and your snippets are what are keeping me alive at the very moment, is it alright if i request for some miguel fluff?

the prompt is that he tries really hard to keep his "touch-starvedness" unnoticeable but reader makes that very hard for him because even brushing shoulders and hands is enough to send him into cardiac arrest. it all goes to hell when reader gets genuinely concerned for him and twists into reader giving miguel the gentle touch he deserves :3

(( I loved this ask so much... I will definitely do a different concept with this idea to bring it more justice! thank you for your request, so wonderful nonetheless! ))

my requests are still open!! i didn't proofread this one so if there are any mistakes sorry!!

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

fluff. miguel, so desperately touch-starved, yearns for any touch he can’t get. you unknowingly give it to him.

warnings: jealous and slightly violent miguel, perhaps slightly suggestive? MAINLY FLUFF THOUGH!! HE LOVES YOU SM!! anyhow he’s just a little silly and painfully in love with his co-worker ..

word count: 2852

A soft bump met your shoulders, tilting the vial you held ever so delicately with much more force than anticipated from the unexpected collision. The goggles resting upon your nose slanted from the impact as the burst of color within the flask splashed onto your lab coat. A frustrated groan erupted from your lips as a light chuckle sounded from right beside you. 

“Jeez– this isn’t funny Miguel!” You couldn’t help but whine while hurriedly cleaning up your lab station before anyone from a different department of Alchemax could see your slip-up. The vial that held a mysterious substance wasn’t anything to worry about, it was a prototype for a more ecologically efficient paint alternative to further the health of citizens amongst Nueva York– but the progress being wiped away over something as small as a little bump on the shoulder almost made you fall to your knees. 

Being hired as a rookie chemist to the most successful chemical corporation in existence had you sweating bullets over your every move– not even allowing yourself to step foot in the break room in fear that you’d have to reiterate what you have done during your time here. Which was much less accomplished than your assigned veteran lab partner, who always offered to help bring your concepts to fruition– but you declined with ease because you wanted to feel worthy to the department you were assigned.

This didn’t stop Miguel from coincidentally being a step behind your movements always, despite your insistence that you had everything under control.

It was nerve-wracking, feeling his gaze study you a bit too hard as you measured how clean a sample of underground Nueva York was in the dim light of a late night shift. He’d make quips, soft against your exhausted temple while Miguel would finish the rest of your unfinished goals. Drifting off into the embrace of sleep, your eyes would crack open ever so slightly as he examined your work with a level of admiration in his gaze you've never noticed fully awake– tinkering and fiddling with whatever environmentally-productive project you had going on that shift. The last recollection of the night would be the touch of Miguel’s knuckles grazing your shoulders, a jacket wrapping around your back like a blanket. The smell of praline alongside bergamot orange stuck to your body like a shadow as you slumped awake the following morning, rushing home to shower and get ready for the shift you had the upcoming afternoon.

Following the next day, Miguel had a subtle smile upon his features as you returned his jacket with a flustered expression he’s never seen from you. Excitement bubbled against his chest like a shaken-up soda as he observed the slight bow of your head in appreciation, hands atop his scarred grasp that held onto the jacket you returned. You never caught the deep breaths flooding his lungs as the two of you separated, his jacket held tightly against his hammering heart. “I, I need to go grab a coffee–” Miguel muttered underneath his breath, leaving before you could even acknowledge his dismissal. Confusion dazed your focus, remembering the last time you asked if he had wanted any coffee he mentioned he didn’t even like the caffeinated drink in the first place. Told you it made his insomnia worse.

The both of you had grown closer ever since that experience as surprising as it was, due to his cocky yet cold attitude usually clashing against your focus. If it wasn’t for his seriousness, the two of you would be bickering like partners forced to work on a group project in grade school. Which brought you back to the present, cleaning up the mess he had technically created due to bumping into you. A frown etched upon his face, stress lines from his hundreds of late shifts growing prominent at the tip of his lips. “I was doing something important– and you waltz in and just knock it all over?”

“‘Didn’t mean to, conejito.” Miguel replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, waving off his actions like every other time he's accidentally skewed your focus. "But I'm more than willing to fix what I did if you just stop acting like a spooked animal." It rolled off his tongue like an insult, but you knew that's just how he spoke. Short and blunt, with little quips towards anyone who annoys him just briefly. Just like every other co-worker, despite the amount of time the two of you have spent together, you always would get a taste of his attitude before you snapped right back at him.

But today, you were tired and running off of pure coffee as the sun began to set. Bickering with Miguel was something you wanted to stray away from at the time being. So you caved, giving him a gesture to come closer to you. "You can't help if you are standing seven feet away from me, O'Hara." You told him the obvious, readjusting the goggles that sat atop your nose while you went over the variables involved with your test. 

For the first time in response to your sarcasm, Miguel was silent. Seconds ticked by as you grew more invested in resuming from where you left off, the little quarrel leaving your mind as soon as it came. You thought he'd ignore you and end up doing his own thing in your shared lab, but the distinct footfalls from his leather shoes moving closer after the rare quietness proved you wrong.

Miguel slid up right beside your hunched stance, close enough that the warmth from his arms met your wrists but not close enough where his rolled-up sleeves would collide against the fabric fitted against your arms.

You stood there, measuring the exact precise measurements from before with the several natural ingredients surrounding the both of you. And Miguel just watched, at least that's what you assumed, because that burning gaze of his seeped into the back of your head and sizzled against your fingertips working painstakingly slow mixing and working against the organic compounds. Nervousness prickled your skin, goosebumps following in its wake.

Due to your posture, when you snapped your attention to him you couldn't help but look up. Miguel's features were soft, an expression that you've never seen on him meeting your eyes. He was looking down at you, breathing in sleepily while subsciously leaning his body into your space. The unusual mannerism caught your attention with haste, and you were about to question if he was feeling okay before he perked up like he got shocked.

His gaze was distant until he realized you were looking straight at him– immediately looking off towards the vials you had splayed in front of you like he was caught doing something wrong. You couldn't help but frown while you watched Miguel exhale deeply, his index and thumb meeting the bridge of his nose in a habit you've noticed throughout your time here. Miguel was stressed. 

"Hey, it's okay that you messed up." The forgiveness falling from your lips only made him curl into himself more. Worry clouded your mind at seeing him so worked up, something you were so unfamiliar with. Usually, Miguel expressed himself in abrupt irritation that you always tried to help him through– the silent loathing almost made you ask him to go home out of concern. "Mistakes happen in the lab, Miguel. Please don't beat yourself up.

Soft graze meeting his shoulder, his body tensed up at the unexpected attempt of your's that was made to comfort him. The both of you danced around each other at best, the most contact from one another would be leading his movements with your own hold onto his hands while instructing assistance. Miguel's mouth fell agape, his unusually sharp canines he kept away was brought to your attention from the dim light highlighting his features. A gasp followed as your hand met his cheek while aiming for his forehead, which he tried to cover up with a cough. 

"What are you doing–" He hissed out in a mess as the heat blooming from his cheeks set your own touch aflame. You hushed him, which he obliged without a word. Strange, you thought to yourself again. He never acts like this towards anyone, let alone get this close to another chemist within the building of Alchemax.

Palm brushing against the strands of hair blessing his forehead, you checked his temperature while his eyes fluttered close. "I'm checking your temperature, Miguel." You murmured against his jaw, boosting your height on your tiptoes in order to reach his forehead. "You've been off today, it's concerning." 

"I'm fine," He muttered into the space between you, beginning to distance himself from your touch until your free hand met his other shoulder. It was as if a weight held him into place, grounding him within your touch as he shakily dug his fingers into his black dress-pants. You hadn't noticed the subtle slices into his thighs from his claws. Miguel's resolve was failing terribly.

His breath, quick and shallow, met the skin of your ear. It tickled. Hot air crashed into your contrasting cold flesh, digging into your nerves like boiling water.

Once your skin met his temple, he pushed against your touch like you were the only thing keeping himself afloat. His grasp met your elbow while the other relied on the counter for support. "Just feeling a bit under the weather." Miguel managed to mumble, brow furrowing as if he was in pain– never once did you catch the reddened hue painting his face and flustered glint in his eye.

"I've been telling you to stop overworking yourself," you scold him softly, shaking his grasp on your elbow just to take his hands into yours. "How much sleep have you gotten recently?" The question makes him cringe, the dark circles around his eyes as prominent as ever.

"Not enough." He admitted.

"You know that's not good for you." You reminded him with a frown. Warmth blossomed in your chest as his skin, warm and marred from his work with all sorts of scientific junk, caressed your knuckles with his thumb. He had calmed down as time ticked by, a sleepiness that clung onto him as darkness painted the canvas beyond the window of your floor. A huff of air escaped his lips as he rested his cheek against the cool of the lab table, safely distanced from what you were working on. Miguel’s hand didn’t dare move from your grasp, and you didn’t think about moving either. Miguel was slowly becoming a good friend of your’s, if something so small as a little comfort was needed you were more than willing to help.

“Yeah, yeah.” Was all he said. Silence dawned over the both of you as you resumed back to fixing up his mistakes. The dim light filled words left unsaid with a soft ambience, vials clinging against each other gently while liquids poured into one another. The night ended with you successfully conjuring up an ecological alternative to whatever paint Nueva had used before, which will certainly be good on your reports– and Miguel ended up getting the rest he needed.

You had pulled up a chair for him long ago, and he took it without a word. Slumped against your lab station, each time you’d try to pull away from him he’d mumble out a little, “no, please– stay here.” with his eyes still fluttered shut. He didn’t drool or snore, in fact it was a bit concerning how quiet he was as slumber took him. Almost like a vampire in his coffin, the idea of Miguel dressing up as Dracula made you stifle a laugh against the back of your free hand. Maybe you’d have to convince him to dress up for the next corporate Halloween event, as silly as it would be.

Miguel’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, mumbling out incoherency as your hand anchored him to this world. The light reminder of success infiltrated your senses as the smell of beeswax and linseed oil– honey and lemon. You’d already be on your way back home if Miguel didn't have his fingers intertwined with yours, murmuring things you’d never imagine him to say. It made your stomach churn, a wobbly smile meeting your lips as you laughed off his sleepy nonsense.

The fun ended too quickly it felt, as he suddenly stretched and groaned– his hand pulling you a little with him. The weight on him snapped him awake, senses kicking into overdrive to clear his confusion. Once he realized he was in the safety of the lab he shared with you, Miguel visibly relaxed. When his gaze met your interlocked fingers, he almost fell out of his chair.

Miguel whispers out your name in an embarrassed mess, wrapping his free hand around his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down. But you merely hummed an automatic response, and he couldn’t help but shake the thoughts clouding his consciousness. You were affecting him in a way that almost left him frozen, emotions that felt close to a high rushed into his brain and messed with any rationality he was able to clutch. Miguel’s claws he kept at bay threatened to unsheathe into your knuckles as warmth painted his features into an unbearable heat.

By the time he had fully woken up, you were dozing off yourself. 

Elbow propped against the counter while your head rested on your hand, drool etched the side of your lips as the world of dreams scooped you up and cradled you lovingly. You were blissfully aware of the carnal gaze of your lab partner, soaking in your soft, resting expression like a full-course meal. His heart ached painfully at a small snore that escaped his lips.

When it came to you, it’s almost as if he had a bad case of cute aggression on top of the painful crush that held him in a chokehold.

Every brush of your shoulder meeting his own short circuited his every thought, shocking his cold attitude into a soft spot for you. Every graze upon his hands, with that mouth of yours snapping at him with a certain playfulness, had him melting against you like putty. And here you were, spending the night with him in the stiff chairs of the lab simply because he had told you to in his exhausted stupor. 

Miguel almost hyperventilated at how nice you were to him, grasp tightening on your hand every so slightly. He wanted all of you, he realized, as his lips came into contact with your knuckles. 

Were you as sweet as always with the others in your shared department? Did you give them a piece of your mind, but then turned around with open arms and a hug when something went right? Did you share your secrets in the comfort of being busy, finding companionship with the one helping you who wasn’t him?

Miguel kissed your finger-tips as a soft gasp escaped your drooling lips, breathing in your scent like it was keeping him from unravelling altogether. The thoughts of someone else so close to you made his skin crawl and the urge to dig his claws within flesh. An insistent voice growled in the back of his head, “protect, closer, closer, need.”

It was his voice, snarling like a devil on his shoulder whenever he was clouded with your embrace. He craved your touch like it was a necessity to live, as important to breathe. His fangs trailed your wrist and your hold tightened onto his own hard instinctively. A pleased hum rolled off his tongue, you were just like a bunny caught into a trap. Prey at his mercy.

But he pulled away before he was too into his own head and did something he shouldn’t. Miguel wanted to see your nervous, wide-eyes gaze for himself when he offered to kiss you– or practically begged you to when the time came. In no way would he allow himself to take away a moment so special between the two of you.

So Miguel swiped away the drool dripping down your chin, bringing his thumb that delicately grazed your face onto his tongue and tasted your spit for himself. It was sweet, like you had just finished chewing down a piece of pink bubblegum hours ago– and that knowledge alone almost sent him off the edge of any human thought he had left.

So he collected himself, soothing out his lab coat before bringing a palm against his hair to smooth it back out. With a light smile and a deep breath, he invaded your space with a gentleness that rivalled a melodious tune.

Shaking you awake, Miguel brought his claws to your hair and raked through the curls. The action took you both by surprise, by you couldn’t help but purr a sleepy “hello, silly,” at the sight of waking up to his sleep-ridden self. He only chuckled, a red painting his ears that you couldn’t see.

“Hello to you too, mi corazón. I’ll help you get home.”

[sephifrog]

Hello! Could I request Sephiroth relationship headcanons with a female half angel half human reader? Please and thank you!

Hey birdy I hope you're well!

I really like the idea of a Nephilim in FF-universe so I'm Sorry if this wasn’t really that relationship-y I was more focused on how cool a half-angel is I can definitely do a part two that's more fluffy!

Being the first and seemingly only one of your kind was a lonely existence, your mother a seraph (or so you were told) had been executed for falling for a human but before she was caught she and your father created you, something that would keep her love and will alive long after she is gone.

Life with your father was strict but not unpleasant always hiding from the watchful eyes in the sky he worked towards finding a materia that would conceal your presence something that led him to Shinra Tower, he made a deal with Shinra Power company, he would tell them everything he knew about higher beings if he can use their labs. They thought he was crazy until he showed them photos of your wings and golden eyes. (eyes that only change when you used your powers)

He thought they could be trusted but he was wrong- as soon as they agreed to the terms and your father brought you in, you were locked away wings plucked, and experimented on-thats where you met Sephiroth.

He could feel his body react to Hojo’s new experiment and wanted to investigate

This is when he’s in his late teens/a young adult so before crisis core but after Ever crisis so you’re both around 19 when you met

He feels his chest ache seeing someone go through what he went through and because he’s lonely he decided he wanted to befriend you

So he sneaks in when the lab is empty for a few months and you become close 

You don’t trust him at first especially because your angel side is reacting negatively to his Jenova cells

But over time you both grew close bonding over your disdain for Hojo and his stoic deminer reminding you of your father the one person you trusted

He breaks you out before Angeal and Genisis joined first and pretty much told everyone you’re off limits 

Hojo disliked that

But you felt protected with him

Living with him after being in a cage for years was odd

 by the time he “stole” you from Hojo you were both 23

He tells you offhandedly that you keep him calm

He starts to train you and you join him on some missions 

In one of those missions you get hurt really bad and he realises he can’t live without you- lucky for you both you heal really quickly

You share your first kiss when you sit up and coo at his worried face

He was flustered but didn’t deny the affection

He never asked you to be his partner but it was implied and you didn't ask about it knowing that your eachother’s person

Humming to him while he works fills him with energy (you unintentionally use your powers to clear his mind when you hum)

Before he sprouts his wing he grooms yours a lot because he can see it makes you happy

Researches angels to try and surprise you with your heritage

He had this need to protect you even though you’re a divine being

After snapping he becomes obsessive his cells screaming to devour you but his heart not wanting to hurt you

If you stay with him you groom each other's wings

And you start to get sick because your angel side wouldn’t like the power he possesses

Depending on how you want this to go he could also want to destroy the heavens for causing you pain

You could also probably clear his mind with your powers if you wanna go off-canon

If so you could revive many people and stop canon in its tracks

Saving not only Sephiroth but the rest of the firsts too

If you have children they would have 1-3 wings

They would also be stronger than both of you because angel blood Jenova cells and human endurance/psyche would be like a holy trinity

You both escape Shinra and create a home for yourselves hidden from everything

[denpa-dere]

3 with mammon for angry confessions please!!

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” with Mammon

___

"WHAT is your PROBLEM!?" You spat, spiking your bookbag against your bedroom floor. Mammon winced, but quickly recovered to save face. Still, it stung. You didn't normally raise your voice at him. 

This was fine.

"What's your problem!?" He shouted back, defaulting to escalation instead of diffusion. 

He could fix this. 

"My problem!?" Your voice rang shrill with fury, "My problem is every time I try to make any friends outside of this house, YOU run them off! My problem is you, Mammon!" 

Really, he could salvage things. 

Mammon folded his arms over his chest, "You should be thanking me! He was scum-"

"He was nice," You said, flopping onto your bed. You covered your face with your hands and groaned in frustration. 

Loathed as he was to admit it, the other demon was, by all accounts, a pretty nice guy. Mammon had been watching him like a hawk all week after the two of you were randomly assigned as lab partners. The other man (a title Mammon's brain instantly and unhelpfully assigned to him) was unfortunately quite handsome and apparently hilarious judging by the way you were cutting up around him. 

Mammon had made it a point to drag you away as soon as class was over, shoving his way in between the two of you as if the other demon simply did not exist. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief when the assignment ended, your partnership ending along with it. 

But that bastard kept coming around. Stopping you in the hallway to chat, finding you in the courtyard to join you (uninvited!) for lunch, and generally doing everything in his power to piss Mammon off. The second born wasn't stupid. He could see how the other demon looked at you and it made him sick. 

So, today, when the other man approached you, eyes hopeful and clutching a note to his chest, push came to shove. 

You didn't have to be so mad about it. 

"He probably just wanted to eat your soul, anyway," Mammon grumbled. 

The bitterness in your laugh shocked him, "Well, great, thanks. Not like I have anything else to offer, right?" 

Shit. 

"W-wait that's not-" 

"No, no, it's fine!" You continued, "Why else would anyone try to get to know me unless they were trying to kill me or get to you guys, right?" 

"I didn't say that," He backpedaled. 

"Then what are you saying?" You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him through slitted eyes. 

Mammon opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. The atmosphere crackled with wrath. 

"Oh, come off it, Mammon! Obviously there must be something," You picked at him relentlessly, "It's not like this is the first time!" 

He was beginning to sweat under your scrutiny. 

"What, and now you're not even going to say anything?" You were reaching your boiling point, "I'm tired of these stupid games, Mammon! I'm trying to make the most of things here but I can't do that if you won't let me!" 

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay!?," He spluttered," But it happened and I can’t do shit about it!” 

“You… What?”

Oops. 

[jebewonmorelike]

Dark Blue On You

wc: 7k (HAHAHA WHAT) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: swearing, angsty with a happy ending but its funny/fluffy too, mentions of others drinking, mentions of hooking up; think pg-13 for this one; also taerae in that suit should be a warning in and of itself warnings for spicy cut scene: MINORS DNI!!!-- mature/suggestive/smut themes-- MINORS SKIP THIS CUT SCENE AND CONTINUE READING BELOW IT!!! (fic makes perfect sense without it) linked here and linked in fic for correct placement in story summary: bestfriend!reader is so excited when the star of the soccer team finally asks them to prom. but when losercore!taerae asks his lab partner to prom out of the blue, reader's sudden jealousy takes them by surprise... basically the prom-themed best friends to lovers of your dreams, okay? okay :) ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ GUYS! HI! it's been so long. i missed you! this was 7,000 words (plus the cut scene) so i'm sorry but that's why it took so long. was also feeling a bit rundown in terms of writing so i really needed to pace myself. but i saw those pictures of taerae in that suit and i swear to god i'm a different person now, so this is the fic you get from that brainrot. also not sure if the suit was actually blue, but that's how it looked in the pics so i ran with it. SO many fun things happening in the zb1 world in the past few days! let me know what you think of this one :) love you sm

“If you steal one more of my sweet potato fries (Y/N), I swear I’m gonna--.”

You pop the orange-colored french fry into your mouth, grinning at Taerae smugly. “You’re gonna what?”

Eyes narrowed at you through dorky, wire-framed glasses, your best friend pouts annoyedly. “One day you’ll fear my wrath.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” you respond with a giggle. Despite his angry demeanor, Taerae turns his lunch tray so that the sweet potato fries are now facing you-- giving you easier access to one of your favorite snacks.

“You could just go back up and get your own, you know,” he persists with his performance even as he squeezes more ketchup onto his tray for you to dip the fries in. “What would you do without me?”

“Sarcastic answer: finally achieve a peaceful existence,” you joke, popping another fry into your mouth. “Serious answer... I’d be lost without you.”

You watch as Taerae’s glasses fog up a bit; the way they always did when he received a compliment or you were being a bit too sincere with him. He takes them off quickly, clearing his throat as he wipes the lenses with the hem of his polo shirt.

A pile of books slam down onto your lunch table as your friend Dohyun plops onto the bench beside you. “(Y/N)! Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“Do you ever talk to anyone else?” You quip, earning a glare from the skinny boy.

“I talk to Taerae hyung, too,” he mumbles. You glance at your best friend, noticing how quiet he’s gotten all of a sudden. “And I like him better than you anyway.”

You shrug. “That makes two of us.”

“What I was going to ask you is,” Dohyun starts; pulling out his lunchbox from his backpack and opening it up. “Has Ryan asked you to prom yet?”

Taerae audibly gulps from across the table. You frown at him, wondering why he’s acting so weird.

“No,” you answer softly. “He hasn’t. And I definitely don’t think he’s going to anymore.”

“I don’t know what you saw in Ryan anyway,” Dohyun says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “He only wanted one thing from you.”

Taerae chokes on his apple juice suddenly and you take the carton from his hand-- placing it back on the table pointedly as he coughs into his elbow. 

“That’s enough, Dohyun,” you scold. “And for the record, I’m as pure as the day you met me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the younger boy laughs. “So… Are you gonna go to prom alone, or?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I already bought my outfit. I had it altered to fit perfectly, so I don’t really think I can return it at this point.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Taerae says finally. “I know you were really looking forward to going with Ryan. He’s gonna regret not asking you. But um...”

Your brow furrows as you wait for Taerae to continue his sentence. He’s looking at you kind of funny now-- eyes wide and anxious.

“Well, if you already have an outfit and stuff, I was thinking that... Um...” You watch curiously as he bends over to his side and begins shuffling through his backpack. “Fuck, where is it?”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Someone suddenly calls behind you. Your head whips around to find Ryan walking towards your lunch table, his signature charming smirk on his lips. He’s carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder for soccer practice as he lands in front of you.

“Hi Ryan,” you greet sweetly, brain turning to mush. You’d first met the star of the soccer team officially when your Math teacher assigned you to tutor him a few months ago. He’d been in serious jeopardy of being kicked off the team for his failing grades, but with an hour of tutoring every other day, you’d helped him climb back up to a solid C+. The afternoon he received his first unit test grade since you’d started tutoring him, he had been thrilled to see B- circled in red at the top of the page... 

So thrilled, in fact, that he’d kissed you at your back corner table in the library.

And he’d kept kissing you. For the rest of that tutoring session... And then the one after that... And the one after that... And the one after that until your meetings had become more of a hybrid tutoring-and-make-out session.

That had been the extent of your “relationship” though. He was always busy with soccer and his meathead friends and ogling popular girls at the library tables next to you when your faces weren’t connected.

But he was the first boy to ever pay attention to you like this-- and he was so handsome to boot. The attention and the fantasy muddied every intelligent and rational thought in your brain. Even if you were being used, you weren’t really ready for it to stop.

One day as you were approaching the library, you stopped in your tracks as you heard Ryan’s voice around the corner. He was talking to one of his jock friends and you held your breath as you attempted to hear their conversation.

“All of the cheerleaders already have dates, dude,” Ryan’s friend relays. “Why did you wait so long?”

Ryan was silent for a moment before responding, “Even Steph?”

“Even Steph,” his friend confirmed. “Injun asked her yesterday.”

“Damnit.”

“Well, you’ve gotta go with somebody,” his friend urged. “Tyler’s parents are letting us use their lake house for the after party, so... Who’re you gonna ask!?”

“I’ll... I’ll find somebody,” Ryan responded and you heard the door to the library begin to squeak open.

“Hopefully somebody that’s gonna put out,” his friend joked and Ryan laughed along.

It was from that moment that you’d gotten it in your head that there was a chance that Ryan might ask you to prom. You’d gone shopping with your mom to pick out the perfect outfit, booked an appointment to get your hair styled for the occasion, and called a florist to purchase a boutonniere to pin on Ryan’s suit that matched your outfit.

As you’d doodled your name next to Ryan’s in your journal and decorated it with hearts one evening last week, your best friend Taerae laid on your bed-- legs dangling off the side as he strummed his guitar.

“(Y/N)...” He sang suddenly in an improvised melody. “Put down your pen... It’s getting annoying... So please tell me when...”

You turned around and glared at him, but he continued.

“You’ll stop your obsession... With that asshole named Ryan... He hasn’t even asked you to prom yet, what if he doesn’t ask you, your heart is gonna break and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces and glue them all together again and--.”

“None of that rhymed.”

“Lyrics don’t have to rhyme for them to hold meaning,” Taerae responded, arms flopping onto the bed in a T-position dramatically. “I’m worried about you. I think this guy might be taking advantage of you.”

“At least someone wants to,” you joked, but the levity didn’t quite reach your voice. Taerae sat up abruptly; eyes fixing on you for a long moment. Finally, he sighed and pulled his guitar strap over his head-- placing the instrument beside him. 

“A lot of people want to take advantage of you, (Y/N).”

Your jaw dropped as you watched Taerae realize what he just said. He’d already begun shaking his head and waving his arms about profusely by the time a smile crept onto your face.

“NOT WHAT I MEANT!” He shouted frantically and the sheer panic on his face was enough to make you burst out laughing. At the sound of your laughter, Taerae couldn’t help but grin and the appearance of his deep dimples was admittedly comforting to you. “You already knew that’s not what I meant but... I’m just trying to tell you he’s not the only guy that likes you.”

Your brow furrowed curiously. “Who else likes me?”

“Oh, uh,” Taerae stuttered nervously, averting your gaze. “Lots of guys. Other guys. Girls, too, probably. And nonbinary folk, I’m sure.”

You nodded, unconvinced. “Well all of those other people are gonna have to fight Ryan for my attention, I guess.”

Taerae gulped. “Right.”

“Now shut up, loser,” you said, spinning back around in your desk chair. “I’m trying to name me and Ryan’s fourth child.”

Now as Ryan stands in front of you, he glances at your only two friends that are also sitting at your lunch table. “Hey nerds.”

Taerae mumbles something under his breath but you aren’t paying him any attention. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7, yeah?” Ryan asks suddenly, nodding at you.

Your lips part slightly in confusion. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” he responds brusquely. “Prom.”

“You--... We--... Us? Prom?” You know that gibberish is falling out of your mouth, but your ability to form a coherent sentence has flown out the window.

Ryan gives you an impatient smile. Of course he has every right to be impatient, you think. I can’t even speak well enough to answer his question. “Yeah. Text me your address.”

“We were actually gonna take photos at (Y/N)’s house beforehand,” Dohyun interjects.

Ryan frowns. “Oh. Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you; you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” You say quickly, grinning up at the tall boy.

“Nah, that’s cool. I’ll be there. See you then,” Ryan says with a smile before taking off towards the other end of the cafeteria. His smile is enough to burst your heart-- but lucky for you (and your poor friends), you’re able to muster up enough strength to keep living.

Instead, you merely scream; keeping your mouth closed to muffle the sound. When you finally return to the world around you, you suddenly notice how silent your friends are. 

“What?” You ask, frowning at Dohyun. “Why aren’t you guys excited?”

You turn to Taerae, who is holding a large piece of folded up paper in his hands. “What’s that?”

Snatching it from his hands, Taerae immediately lunges across the table in a panic to grab it back from you. Dohyun also swoops in to steal the paper, but both of their efforts are in vain as you swivel around to face the opposite direction and open what appears to be a poster.

🌸🌺🌸 Will you go to prom with me? 🌸🌺🌸

“OH MY GOD!” You squeal, whipping back around to face your best friend. He rips the poster from your hands and begins folding it back up, cheeks turning red. “You’re asking someone to prom!? WHO!?”

“Oh thank god: you’re an idiot,” Dohyun mumbles, sinking back into his seat.

Your brow furrows confusedly. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Taerae answers quickly. “No one said anything.”

“Taerae, if you don’t tell me who you’re asking to prom right now, I swear I’m gonna--.”

“MOLLY!” He shouts suddenly, eyes wide as he stares over your shoulder. You turn around to follow his gaze, spotting Taerae’s lab partner, Molly, a few tables behind you. She smiles when she hears Taerae call her name, getting up from her seat and walking over to your table.

“Hi Taerae,” she greets cheerfully, curly short hair bouncing with every step. The very smart, but sometimes obnoxious girl is blinking at your best friend nervously... Holy shit. Had Molly had a crush on Taerae this whole time and you hadn’t noticed?

More importantly... Had Taerae had a crush on her?

“Hi Molly, um... I was wondering,” he starts; his delivery of this promposal a little unprepared. That’s weird, you think. If Taerae was gonna ask someone out, I’m sure he would’ve rehearsed it in the mirror until he lost his voice…

“Dude,” Dohyun interrupts suddenly, eyes wide as he looks at Taerae.

Taerae just ignores him, clearing his throat and starting again; unfolding his poster onto the table once more. “I was wondering, actually, if you’d maybe like to possibly-- and no pressure or anything, maybe someone’s already asked you, but...”

“OH MY GOD! Of course I’ll go to prom with you,” Molly exclaims, throwing her arms around Taerae. You watch as he freezes, never one for accepting public affection from anyone he didn’t know well...

From anyone except you.

You frown at the bizarrely jealous thought. Taerae obviously liked this girl. Just last week, he’d been complaining about her chewing too loud in the computer lab, but maybe he was just trying to cover up his real feelings. Taerae deserved to be happy. 

Any boy that would make a whole poster just to ask someone to prom deserved to be happy. You sigh as you study the poster in front of you. I wish Ryan had made me a poster...

As Taerae starts to fold it back up, you notice some surrounding doodles that you had been too distracted to see before. All around the border of the poster are what appear to be light pink Royal Azaleas.

Your favorite flower. 

Had Taerae really used your favorite flower to decorate his promposal for someone else? How could he?

“Stop it!” You say out loud, earning a weird look from all three of the people surrounding you. You smile awkwardly, trying to laugh off your unintentional angry outburst at your own thoughts. “I mean... Stop being so cute you guys!”

Molly grins. “Text me where to meet you tomorrow! I can’t wait.”

Taerae nods quickly as Molly skips back to her own lunch table. As soon as she’s gone, he lets out a huge sigh and you hear the clamoring of his glasses as his head falls to the table.

“But this is amazing, Tae,” you say, staring at the top of Taerae’s head as his forehead rests on the surface of the lunch table. He lifts up for a second, folding his arms and laying his right cheek back down on top of them. His hair falls messily in his eyes, unkempt and fluffy as it usually is. But the sudden urge to brush it out of his face takes you by surprise. “I didn’t know you were going to ask Molly to prom today.”

Dohyun snorts from beside you, now totally engrossed in the game he’s playing on his phone:

“Neither did he.”

~~~

“(Y/N), come down here! We need to take pictures before you leave,” your mother calls from downstairs. “We’re gonna head outside so please hurry up and join us!”

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, anxiety building. Nearly everything about your appearance for tonight is perfect-- your hair, your skin, your outfit; even your shoes. Your friends and family are in your front yard waiting for you.

But all you can think about is how Ryan hasn’t shown up yet.

You’d texted him your address. Told him what time to come over. And now he’s already thirty minutes late. You’d have to leave soon to get to the school on time. 

“Where is he?” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your phone from your bed and checking your notifications again. Nothing.

“(Y/N), if you don’t get your ass down here right now!” The voice that’s calling you now is Taerae’s. His threat is angry enough that it makes you move-- opening the door to your room and walking to the top of the stairs. 

Taerae is furiously typing on his phone as you make your way down the stairs, his back turned to you. He’s wearing a dark blue suit-- slim-fitting and tailored to him perfectly. When you reach the second to last step, you clear your throat.

Your best friend looks up at you now, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. His hair is pushed back, still fluffy but out of his face. You’re surprised to find yourself thinking that he looks very handsome. You blink away the thought as you continue to study Taerae-- eventually realizing that something is missing.

“No glasses?” You ask, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn’t, you prompt him again. “Taerae?”

“Oh, uh,” he begins to reply finally, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “Yeah, just for tonight. My mom... thought it would look nice.”

“Your mom is right,” you say, smiling softly at him. “She usually is though.”

“You’re perfect,” Taerae says suddenly; eyebrows shooting up when he realizes what he just said. “I mean, you look perfectly ready to go and take pictures! And then go to prom. And stuff. You know? Like, you look perfect. Well--... You--... Um--...”

He’s rambling now and you don’t blame him. Your whole lives, you and Taerae had maintained a friendship without most pleasantries a normal friendship might have. Your affection towards each other usually came in the form of play-fighting, insults, sharing sweet potato fries at lunch, and other subtle acts of service. Only when one of you was having a particularly hard day would the other offer a hug or hand to hold or words of affirmation. You and Taerae were so close that normal affection usually seemed pretty arbitrary. 

So this compliment from Taerae, even if it was unintentional is... different.

You swallow hard, averting your best friend’s gaze. “So do you.”

Brushing past him, you open the front door and step out onto your porch-- Taerae following behind you after a moment. You check your phone again for any texts from Ryan.

“He’s a prick, (Y/N),” Taerae says softly, as you continue to stare at your phone screen-- willing your eyes not to water. “Don’t let him ruin this for you. This was all your idea. You wanted to go to prom. You wanted to take pictures beforehand. Why are you letting this guy totally fuck up your night?”

Your eyes meet Taerae’s. He’s right and you know it. Ryan couldn’t care less about you and it was evident in the way he’d asked you (or rather, told you that you were going with him) to prom-- and the way he hadn’t shown up on time to your house. In fact, the whole day you’d been consumed by two feelings: the first being obsession over whether or not Ryan would like your outfit, your hair, your parents, your house...

The second being that deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you were filled with regret about your fixation these past couple of months on the soccer star. Even Taerae had made a nice poster for Molly. Not that he’d even bothered to tell you that he was asking her. And not that you cared what Taerae did or didn’t do for people he liked.

Right?

“Tae, I--.”

“Taerae!” A chipper voice calls from around the corner. Molly appears at the bottom of the porch steps, motioning for your best friend to come down. “Come take pictures! You too, (Y/N). Just because your prom date’s a bust, doesn’t mean you can steal mine!”

Your jaw drops slightly in shock. “I wasn’t--... That’s not--...”

“Chop, chop!” Molly says, walking back over to where all of your parents are standing-- Dohyun in the middle of them, talking their ears off. 

Not wanting any more accusations being hurled at you on your own property, you give Taerae a quick shrug before following her out onto the lawn.

~

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan’s red sports car now as he parks in the school lot. He’d finally shown up two minutes before you were about to have to hop into Taerae’s car and ride in the backseat behind him and his date. Your mom, who was making no attempt to hide her displeasure, was able to snap a quick few photos of you before you left.

Ryan turns off the car, stuffing his keys in his right pocket before leaning back again into his seat. He’s staring at you and you’re not really sure how to respond. You reach for the door latch, but you feel his hand touch your left arm before you can open it.

You identify the look in his eyes right away-- he wants to kiss you. Come to think of it, you hadn’t kissed Ryan in over a week. You’d been busy with an essay and had to cancel your “tutoring sessions”. Usually, the idea would excite you. But tonight, it almost made your stomach turn.

A knock on your window startles you and you look over to find Taerae smiling at you-- more than a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

Ryan rolls down your window. “Dude, what are you--?”

“(Y/N) really wants to go to prom with you,” he replies, opening your door for you. You hop out immediately, grateful for the interference. “So you can save whatever you’re gonna do for later.”

You don’t look back at Ryan, walking as quickly as you can towards the front doors of the school. Eventually, Ryan, Taerae and Molly all catch up to you as you walk through the entranceway.

A beautiful balloon arch greets you as you enter the gym, fairy lights and vintage streamers lining every inch of the walls. It’s exactly as you’d imagined-- the prom of your dreams.

“JORDAN!” Ryan shouts suddenly from behind you, almost knocking you down as he runs to greet one of his stupid jock friends. 

You start to fall, but a pair of hands are already on your shoulders to keep you upright. “Thanks,” you mumble as Taerae pushes you through the balloon arch and towards the open floor.

“Where do you wanna sit, Taerae?” Molly asks, smiling at him expectantly. “I’m sure (Y/N) is gonna go sit with Ryan.”

You glance back to where Ryan had run off to, finding him completely surrounded by his many popular friends. You turn back to Molly and Taerae, forcing yourself to nod. 

“You should sit with us,” Taerae says, the pity in his eyes growing more embarrassing every minute. You aren’t going to ruin his night with Molly. You just couldn’t do that to your best friend.

Shaking your head, you try to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N)...”

“You guys have fun! I’ll see you in a bit,” you call, wandering off to a table in the opposite corner. Once you take your seat, it’s as if you’ve been glued to it permanently.

You watch all of your peers rush to the dance floor, laugh together, embrace each other... Not once does Ryan ever come find you. But you know deep down that you sort of deserve it. How had you been so obsessed with one boy asking you to prom and ended up being the only person here having such a miserable time?

You should never have come. Or you should have come alone. Or with Taerae.

Taerae...

Your eyes rest on your best friend, who is sitting with Molly at their table. He’s leaning back comfortably in his chair; navy blue suit contrasting perfectly with his light olive skin. His smile is bright and pretty-- why the hell does he look so pretty tonight? 

Is he having fun with Molly? Is he thinking about me?

Almost as if he’s heard your thought, Taerae’s eyes meet yours. The smile on his face instantly fades to an expression of concern and you hate it. You want him to smile at you like he was just smiling at Molly. 

But why would he smile at you like that? He likes Molly.

Not you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you look at the screen to find a message from Taerae.

Are you okay??

You look back up at him, deciding to nod and give him a thumbs up-- hoping for that dimpled smile to return to his face. It doesn’t.

(Y/N), please just come over here You’re breaking my heart

Learning that you sitting alone in a corner is ruining Taerae’s prom experience is not what you needed to hear. Pressing your lips together awkwardly, you nod slowly at him; starting to stand up from your chair to go talk to him for a bit.

But you stop in your tracks when you watch Molly grab Taerae’s hand and pull him up out of his chair. She’s trying to tug him towards the dance floor-- his eyes widening in panic as they remain locked on you.

You wave him on, trying your best to smile at him. You feel your lip quiver and you hope he doesn’t notice from the other end of the gym. Taerae reluctantly stops resisting Molly and joins her on the dance floor after giving you another regretful look.

“Heyyyy (Y/N),” a voice slurs in your ear now, an arm wrapping around you from behind. You look up to find Ryan, smiling goofily back at you. He’s piss drunk, of course.

“Hi,” you say shortly, attempting to wiggle out of his hold but the alcohol hasn’t lessened his strength. “Can you let go, please?”

“Why would I do that?” He asks rhetorically, tequila coating his breath. “You’re my date.”

“Am I?” You spit, finally breaking free of his grip. “I couldn’t tell.”

He frowns. “What do you want? Do you want to dance or something? We can dance.”

“I want to go home,” you respond, glaring at him. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

With that, you’re walking past Ryan and through the balloon arch out of the gym. It’s not until you’re standing in the hallway that you hear a set of footsteps following you.

You turn around to find Ryan standing behind you, a small silver flask in hand. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he answers, unscrewing the top off the flask and taking a sip. “You said you wanted to go home.”

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, eyes wide with shock. “You’re drunk. You’re not getting behind the wheel like this.”

He shrugs. “I’m really good at it! I do it all the time.”

“Holy shit,” you whisper, shaking your head at him in awe. “You fucking suck, you know that?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you start, jaw setting in anger. “You’ve ignored me all night. You didn’t show up at my house on time to take pictures. You tried to skip prom to makeout with me in your car. Not to mention, you didn’t even ask me to prom. You told me yesterday that you would pick me up tonight. And now you want to drive me home and you can’t even stand up straight!?

Ryan stares at you for a long moment before the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “Are you playing hard to get?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “You already got me! I was literally eating out of your palm for two whole months. I can’t believe I let myself be so stupid... Now I never want to see you ever again!”

He frowns. “It’s because of that Taeri kid, isn’t it?”

“What? No, no--...” It’s at that moment that you look back into the gym, spotting your best friend dancing with his date. He looks so stupid; he might even be the worst dancer you’ve ever met. So why does the sight of him make your heart swell? “His name’s Taerae. And he’s my best friend. That apparently likes someone else and never told me.”

You turn back to Ryan to find him staring back at you, wide-eyed. “Damn,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re in love with your weird friend.”

“I am not!” You protest, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “And he’s not weird, he’s just... Okay, yeah he’s weird. But the good kind of weird.”

“Wow. Denial much?” He says, laughing.

Your brow furrows curiously. “Why are you so okay with this? Weren’t you just asking me if I was playing hard to get?”

“It’s cool. You guys would probably make a better match anyway,” he responds with a shrug. “Plus I already hooked up with Steph in the bathroom, so I’m all set for the night if I have to be.”

You sigh, shaking your head in awe of the absolute dickhead standing in front of you. Turning on your heel and walking towards the exit doors, you mumble, “Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he calls after you, far too cheerily. “Tell him! Or that girl’s gonna snatch him right up. Have you seen the way she’s been looking at him all night?”

Yeah. I have.

~

It had been a decent night for Taerae. Molly had turned out to be a good enough prom date. They talked about their science project most of the night, but he hadn’t really known what else to say. Besides, he was far too distracted to have any sort of real conversation when he’d been keeping at least one eye on you the whole night.

The pain he felt watching you sit alone at an empty table-- scrolling through your phone, tears rolling down your cheek periodically when you thought no one was watching you.

But Taerae was watching you. How could he not be when the most beautiful person in the room was his best friend?

Of course the one time he’d taken his eyes off you, you’d gone missing.

So far, he’d checked the buffet table, the photobooth, the hallway... He’d even knocked on the bathroom door (and received a very annoyed response from whoever was inside). But you were nowhere to be found.

That’s when he spots Ryan. The star of the soccer team is sitting down at the end of the bathroom hallway, back leaned against a locker. Taerae runs up to him frantically, smelling the liquor on his breath from six feet away.

“Where’s (Y/N)!?” Taerae shouts, shaking Ryan’s shoulders when he doesn’t answer.

The tall boy groans. “How should I know?”

“Because (Y/N)’s your date?  Don’t you have any idea where your fucking date is!?”

“Jesus, chill out. This is why I said you were weird,” Ryan mumbles, slurring his words. “(Y/N) went home already.”

“What?” Taerae asks, mind racing. “Did you say something? Did you do something? Did you put your hands on--?”

“Probably, yeah. I don’t remember,” he responds, pointing up at Taerae. “But I thought (Y/N) was gonna tell you. I said to tell you so that that girl... doesn’t...”

Before he can finish his entirely incoherent sentence, Ryan has slumped over onto his side and fallen asleep. 

“Tell me what?” Taerae asks; attempting to shake him awake. But it’s no use. “For christ’s sake...”

He turns around, about to run back towards the gym, but instead he comes face to face with his own prom date.

“Oh, Molly, I--,” he starts, but the girl in front of him cuts him off quickly.

“Go,” she says simply, the knowing smile on her face confirming to Taerae that she’s well aware of what’s going on. “Go get (Y/N).”

Taerae sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. This is not cool of me at all.”

“No, it’s not,” Molly says with a laugh. “But I knew you liked (Y/N) the whole time. Once Dohyun opens his mouth, it’s hard to get him to shut it.”

Taerae smiles. “I always knew Dohyun would spill all my secrets one day.”

Molly shrugs. “It’s okay actually. Because tonight made me realize I kind of like Dohyun way more than you anyway. He’s more my type. He actually laughs at my chemistry jokes.”

“Oh, uh,” Taerae falters, eyebrows raising in shock. Dohyun? More her type? Taerae didn’t know that Dohyun was anyone’s type. Not that Taerae thought he was anyone’s type either. “Yeah, I guess I’m more of a biology guy.”

Molly hums. “Do you think you could put in a good word for me then?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure.”

“No hard feelings, then?” Molly asks, smiling up at him.

“No, none at all, I guess,” Taerae agrees-- though the entirely absurd thought of someone using him to get to Dohyun is still eating away at the back of his brain. “You’re okay if I leave now? Do you have a ride home?”

Molly nods happily. “I’ll see you on Monday! Don’t forget the Chapter 13 exam,” she says, walking back down the hallway towards the gym.

 “And tell me how it goes with (Y/N)!”

~

You’re face down on your bed, having flopped there in a puddle of tears as soon as you’d gotten home and changed into your pajamas. Your dad had picked you up and you’d driven home in uncomfortable silence apart from your quiet sniffling. You’re currently subsisting on an entirely separate plane of existence-- one with excessive tears and nothing else.

But a rattling at your window startles you, causing you to jump up to see what’s making the sound. You’re even more startled when you realize that the sound is actually that of Taerae fiddling with the latch on your window frame.

You run to the window, unlocking the latch and pushing it open. You whisper-shout at your idiotic best friend, “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“Remember when I used to do this when I lived next door? Before we moved?” He replies, completely out of breath and barely managing to hang onto the vines of ivy running down the side of your house. 

“Taerae, you moved when we were ten years old! You weighed at least 30 kilograms less than you do now. Are you crazy!?” Grabbing onto his arms and pulling him through the window, he lands with an ungracious thud on your bedroom floor.

“Huh,” he says, panting to catch his breath as he lies flat out on his back on your beige carpet. “I used to be in really good shape then. Maybe I should start working out.”

You sit down next to him, your back leaning against the side of your bed. You look at the right leg of his suit pants, finding a wet spot on the knee. He must’ve fallen before he successfully climbed up to your window.

He looks just as pretty lying here like this as he had all night-- only now, he looks a bit more like the Taerae you were used to. His hair had fallen into his eyes a bit more and he must’ve switched out his contact lenses for his glasses on his way here. Maybe your best friend had always been this beautiful... Maybe you’d just never taken the time to notice before.

Your eyes widen suddenly. “Taerae, what are you doing here? Where’s Molly?”

He sighs annoyedly. “Ask Dohyun.”

“What?” You ask, brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s a long story.”

You frown. “Prom isn’t even over yet. Why did you leave?”

“Because Ryan told me you left,” he answers, finally sitting up to look at you. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, you could’ve texted me,” you respond, looking around you for your phone.

Taerae points to your desk and you turn to see your phone sitting on the corner of it. “You weren’t answering.”

“Oh,” you say softly, eyes falling to your lap. “I guess I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Taerae requests suddenly and you reluctantly oblige. You know you must look absolutely insane. Hair out of place, eyes red and puffy and face blotchy from crying. He smiles at you sadly again, just like he had been the whole night. “I know you’re not okay. You can be upset. You know I won’t judge you.”

His words are all you need for the tears to start flowing again. In less than a second, Taerae’s arms have wrapped around you; holding you tightly in his embrace. It’s comforting, but at the same time it’s not. Not if he knew the real reason you’d been crying so much.

“He doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N),” he says, hand finding its way to the back of your head to pet your hair. “I’m so, so sorry that he treated you this way. He was never worth your time.”

You swallow back your tears, before pulling away from Taerae. Your arms still tangled up with his, you say finally, “I know.”

He stares at you for a moment before that sad smile returns. “You should know. I’m glad that you know. He doesn’t deserve any of your tears.”

“They’re not for him.” The truth falls from your lips before you can chicken out. You brace for the instant regret that should come with saying these words, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel the beginnings of relief.

Taerae’s head tilts to the side questioningly. “What--... What do you mean?”

Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth and you bite it hard to dissolve the anxiety in your chest. “I wasn’t crying over him.”

“Oh...” He says softly, utter confusion written all over his face. “So... You... Okay, no, I don’t get it.”

Of course Taerae didn’t get it. He had a wonderful night with the girl he likes. And the person who’d ruined it for him was you.

“Oh, I just remembered that Ryan said you wanted to tell me something?” Taerae says, brow furrowed curiously. “Or that he told you to tell me something? I dunno. He wasn’t making much sense right before he passed out.”

“I like someone else,” you blurt; the rush of adrenaline causing you to stand up and find something to busy yourself with before your nails dig holes into your palms. You walk over to your record player, turning it on and dropping the needle on whatever album is already loaded. When the sound flows from the speakers, you realize it’s an R&B album you picked up from a vintage thrift shop across town last week. 

Taerae stands up, too-- recognizing the tension in your voice. “You do?”

You nod, avoiding his gaze. “Mmhmm.”

“That’s... That’s great, (Y/N),” he encourages, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I just hope whoever it is, they’re much nicer to you.”

“He’s really nice to me, actually,” you confirm, finally turning around to look at Taerae again. You catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before he shifts his focus  down to the floor.

It’s now or never.

“Even when I steal his sweet potato fries.”

There’s a lag in his response. It takes a full ten seconds for Taerae to look up at you and, when he does, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in shock. He’s so silent that you’re suddenly sure you’ve made a terrible mistake.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m really sorry; maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that. I know you like Molly and I’m sorry you left prom early to check on me and I know I’ve been so annoying these past couple months and maybe it’s not fair of me to say any of this but when you made that poster for her and it had those Royal Azaleas on it-- that’s my favorite flower, how could you do that, you insensitive piece of--.”

For the last couple moments of your insane rambling, Taerae had been stepping towards you-- closing the gap between you and him quickly before finally cupping your face in his hands and connecting your lips in a particularly unskilled kiss.

When he pulls back, he’s blinking at you with innocent eyes; a blush heating his cheeks.

“Was that your first kiss?” You ask, a small smile turning up the corners of your lips. Taerae’s bottom lip has found its way between his teeth and he’s biting it hard to alleviate his nervous energy; hands dropping to his sides. He just nods in response.

Your right hand raises to his jaw now; left hand resting on his shoulder. Pulling him in to kiss you again, you say softly, “Just follow me for a second.”

When your lips are on Taerae’s again, you squeeze his shoulder gently to get him to relax. He responds to this, letting you lead until he feels confident enough to match you. And once he does...

You’re ready to kick yourself for not falling for him sooner.

“It was for you,” he says softly in between kisses. “I made it for you.”

You pull back to look at him. “What?”

“The poster. The promposal,” Taerae clarifies. “It had your favorite flowers on it, because it was for you.”

Your eyebrows raise as the truth sinks in. Taerae had been trying to ask you to prom yesterday; that’s why he was acting so weird. And Dohyun had obviously been enlisted to help.

“You wanted to go so badly,” he explains. “I know not with me, but I just wanted to try and make you happy anyway.”

A sad laugh escapes you. “Tell me honestly: why are you letting me confess to you right now? Do I really deserve it after all I must’ve put you through?”

Taerae shakes his head. “You definitely don’t,” he affirms before grinning at you. Finally those perfect dimples are on display just for you. “But I’m such a sucker for you. Those sweet potato fries only cost a dollar, you know?”

“I know,” you whisper, grabbing the collar of his navy suit jacket and pulling him in once more. You kiss him sweetly and his arms snake their way around your waist in response. “They just taste better coming from your tray.”

“I don’t even like them,” he says, kissing you again; a smirk on his lips. “I just get them so you’ll steal them from me.”

~

*** 🌶️ INSERT SPICY CUT SCENE HERE -- MINORS DNI -- CONTINUE READING BELOW FOR ENDING (and read below after finishing cut scene) 🌶️ ***

~

“(Y/N)?”

Your mother calling you from the other side of your door jolts you, sending you and Taerae scrambling off each other on your bed-- where you haven’t really let each other breathe for the past twenty minutes.

“If Taerae’s sleeping over, can you tell him to turn his headlights off, please?” That’s all your mom says before her footsteps travel back down the stairs; a hint of a smirk in her voice.

Taerae’s eyes widen, his hands searching his pockets for his keys. When he doesn’t find them, he smiles at you sheepishly. “Oops.”

“So stealthy of you,” you tease, hitting his chest lightly as you attempt to catch your breath. He grabs your hand, pulling you back into him and reattaching your lips. Before your mind goes blank again, you pull back. “Go turn your car off!”

“Fine,” he sighs, annoyedly. Pushing himself up off the bed with his hands, he finally stands up and walks towards the window. “Here I go. Just like you asked.”

You walk over to him, grabbing his shoulders from behind and turning him towards your bedroom door. “No more scaling buildings for tonight, King Kong.”

“Really? King Kong? Couldn’t have said something sexier like Spiderman or?”

Before he reaches for the doorknob, you turn him back to face you. Raising up on your toes cutely, you press one more kiss to his lips. “I just don’t really like spiders.”

“That’s right,” he says, palm cupping your cheek. “Giant gorilla it is, then.”

“Now go turn your car off so we can get back to what we were doing...”

Taerae’s hand flies to the doorknob; throwing the door open and running to the stairs as fast as he possibly can. 

Just before he disappears down the stairs, he turns back to you-- pounding his chest with his fists lightly like the cutest, lamest gorilla to ever exist.

“This idiot,” you whisper, shaking your head.

I must really love him.

[sleepingnova]

Hi starry! Can I please request an x reader with peter Parker?? I just want some thing really fluffy!!! Thank you

ducky, I know it's you 🤫🫣 I'm like a year late but it's ok, we're going to pretend like time is irrelevant here. Also woah me actually posting? ain't no way

Uncomfortable

Summary : Peter Parker is tasked with his final English presentation for the year. Only problem is, it's with you, and he's got a massive crush.

Pairing : Peter Parker x gn! reader

Word count : 1k

Peter Parker hates presentations: he hates how you have to stand in front of a class full of kids who aren’t even listening to what you have to say. He hates it with every ounce of his being.

As the school year comes to a close, he realizes that this is his last speaking project of the year-- and oh my god– he almost jumped for joy when he read that in Mr. Stark’s lab. He catches himself, because how embarrassing would that be in front of THE Dr. Banner and War Machine??? So he does what a normal teenager would do: he smiles at his screen, pretending like he just got a really funny text. 

His expression drops when he realizes it’s a partner project, and both Ned and MJ are being paired with someone else. His heart drops into his stomach when he realizes his partner for the project is you, the prettiest and most popular girl in school! He’s had a slight hallway crush, but he always psyches himself out of talking to you because, hello? You’re way out of his league! So, like any teenage boy, he calls his best friend, spiraling. 

“Hey, Peter, what’s up? You’re still coming over to put the new lego set together with me this weekend, right? Don’t tell me you're about to cancel–” The receiving end gets cut off, by Peter of course rambling on and on. 

“You talking to me, kid?” Tony chimes from his desk, his back turned away from Peter as he works on something completely different, a new suit mod Peter presumes.

“Dude, I- what? No, not you, Mr. S- Tony. Sorry,” He stumbles, not missing the way Tony’s finger points backwards at him, almost as if he's waiting for him to correct himself. When he did, he gave a thumbs up and kept working, keeping his ears open. “Okay, dude, we have a problem, like a big problem. Like, you don’t understand how cooked I am. How cooked WE are. I have to work with that really pretty girl in our class for the presentation.” Peter rambles, covering his face at his so-called “problem,” and Tony almost bursts out laughing, stifling his chuckles with a cough into his fist. 

“Oh yeah, her. She’s really sweet, from what MJ’s told me. Okay, here’s what you do: I'll get you her number and just text her.” Ned rings out from the other end, half paying attention, half doing something completely different. 

“What? No, dude I can't just text her; you gotta have proper text etiquette. What would I even say? ‘Hey, you probably don’t know me, but we’re partners, and I have this massive crush on you, and I’ve been lowkey nervous as hell to come and talk to you’? Like, no. That’s how to scare her away 101. MJ and Liz are really the only two girls I actually talk to.” Tony can’t help but shake his head in disbelief, a faint smile on his face as he tries his hardest not to laugh at the kid as he apparently gets hung up on.

Peter groans, burying his head in his hands, a heated blush on his face behind his hands as Tony stifles his laughs, before finally turning around, a smug look on his face. 

“So, girl trouble, kid? Don’t be embarrassed, it happens to everyone! Well, not me back in the day,” Tony snorts, his eavesdropping making Peter sigh dramatically. “You’re a catch! Great personality and everything. Whoever this girl is would be lucky to have you. Does May know?” Tony asks, to which Peter was quick to shut it down with a “No, she doesn’t. I’m not going to say anything because this is literally just a school crush. She doesn’t even know I exist!” 

“Which is exactly why when you do this project with her, she’ll get to know you. Be your nerdy self and she’ll love you. Hell, in the two years I’ve known you, you’ve grown on me. I wasn’t even a kids person before I met you. When I lost you for those five years, I realized how much you wormed your sticky hands into my heart, or what heart I have left. You’re better than all of us, kid. You have a good heart and a good head on your shoulders; you don’t see that much anymore,” Tony pauses, trying to encourage him. “Just be yourself, kid. I promise you, stay true to yourself and it’ll work out.”

Peter nods and gradually, a week passes. Tony watches as he comes into the lab, noticing the slump in his shoulders, as if the weight of the world was actually picked up off his shoulders. Before Peter could even ask what they were doing today, his question of “what happened with your partner? Did you get her number?” came rolling off his mentor’s tongue, to which Peter could only respond with a whine and a blush creeping up to his cheeks. 

“Jesus, seriously? I can’t even go for a week without you asking.” The dry and defensive response made Tony laugh before he continued with a shy smile. “I did get her number, and an A on the presentation, thanks for asking. She’s leaving for the summer, but we’re going to talk all summer and just see how it goes. She’ll be back in New York every now and then, and I’m going to be working most of the summer, but I’m sure I can make the time.” His last phrase caught Tony’s attention. He turned, furrowing a brow at the brunette boy. As a response, the boy only shrugged. Something about getting a job to help out his aunt, which meant his lab days were going to be cut a lot shorter, but in true Tony Stark fashion, he tuned it out, already cooking up a way to override that.

That day, Peter was left half surprised and half anticipating how his summer was going to go. In his eyes, he aced his final English exam and got to form a blooming relationship with the girl he’s been crushing on from day one. Yeah, he’d tell his “Parker Luck” to go screw itself, because this was a definite win in his book.

okay, did I cook? be honest. I think I cooked. should I make another part to this of how the relationship forms or something like that?

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you to my #1 proofreader that I keep in my pocket at all times <3

[stardust-moth]

Don't mind me, just resurrecting my blog from beyond the grave for the sole purpose of ranting about Mileven

ST fans and Mileven/Mike-antis really be out here missing the entire fucking point of this conversation??? "Mike is lying/gaslighting/in denial! Clearly he doesn't really love her!" (First of all, ya'll literally don't know what gaslighting is, but that's a conversation for another post) No, actually-- it's not about how Mike feels, or even about how he expresses it. It's about how Eleven has PTSD.

Her life in the lab with Brenner essentially taught her that love is conditional, particularly about her abilities. She only received praise or affection if she impressed Papa with her powers; she was shunned and punished if she refused or couldn't do it.

We see this mentality carry over into her life after the lab as well-- if she fails, she feels immense guilt.

Often she pushes herself past her limits, insisting she can do it; because in her mind, if she can't, then she's no longer worthy of love.

Now that her psychic abilities are gone, her whole world has turned into this huge mess of doubt. Throw in the fact that Hopper is gone, they've moved to a new town away from all of her existing support systems aside from Joyce (who is apparently busy all the time), she's struggling to gain acceptance among new peers and is being bullied... She is clinging onto her relationship with Mike like it's the last thing she has, even resorting to lying to him in order to make it look like she's doing well; because Mike can't know that she's failing to fit in! She is so terrified of losing love, and all this doubt has her so convinced that she already has.

On Mike's end, however, all he can see from her letters to him is that she seems to be thriving, even enjoying her life away from him.

He expressed in later scenes that he has his own doubts and insecurities about this, that maybe there's something or someone out there better suited for her, more worthy of her love. This likely contributed to why he avoided the "L" word in his letters.

His own trauma from repeatedly losing her-- and being helpless to stop it-- comes into play, as well; if he allows himself to open up his heart and admit how much he loves her, it'll hurt so, so much if/when he loses her again. At the same time, I'm sure he's terrified of saying the wrong thing that may push her away.

It's also worth noting that Mike is generally not the best at verbally expressing himself-- he repeats himself, makes defensive outbursts without thinking, and awkwardly trips over his words. Mike's love language is his actions, in kind unspoken gestures, in quiet understanding and reassurance. Things that do not carry over well through letters alone, especially if he has no idea that she is in need of reassuring words. He couldn't see that she has been hurting this whole time. He's likely upset towards her for lying to him because he feels like he should have been there for her.

I've personally been there before-- it's hard to explain the mix of frustration and helplessness you feel when you realize a loved one has been suffering without your knowledge, when you feel like it should have been your responsibility to support them and you failed to, even though it's not your fault for not knowing. This entire situation/argument is something I've gone through with my partner; it is so realistic for a relationship involving someone with trauma like this, and it's a very mature thing for these kids to be handling (and Mike actually handled that conversation beautifully, if they wanted them to have an actual fight fight it could have been so much worse). I don't see it at all as an indication of a falling out between Mike and El. This was a necessary hurdle that they both need to work through, it's an indication that their relationship will strengthen from it.

[stargazer-sims]

Grandpa’s Advice

Nikolai made his way down the road from Stan and Milena’s house to Windward Shore Estates, where he’s having coffee and cake and a much-needed talk with his grandfather in the community’s shared back garden.

Grandpa: So that’s the latest, is it? Little Mishka wants a baby?

Nikolai: He loves that you call him ‘little Mishka’, you know. He says it makes him feel cute.

Grandpa: See, that’s why I love him. One of the reasons, anyway. Absolute giant who looks like he could take out a bear with one good punch, and yet his big preoccupation is with being cute. Not a shred of that toxic masculinity the young people are always talking about. You have to admire that.

Nikolai: I do admire it, actually. Not to be one of those annoying people who can’t stop bragging about their spouse, but he’s the sweetest, most gentle person I’ve ever known. And he is cute.

Grandpa: It’s never annoying to praise your spouse, Kolya. I might’ve stayed married and managed to keep my daughters in my life if I’d learned that sooner, among other things. You go ahead and talk up that man of yours as much as you want. I'll never complain.

Nikolai: Thanks, Grandpa.

Grandpa: You're welcome. Now, about this baby—

Nikolai: Yeah, about that. Mishka really wants us to grow our family, but I don’t know what to do, and it’s stressing me out a little.

Grandpa: More than a little, unless I miss my guess.

Nikolai: Okay, a lot. And nobody’s taking me seriously.

Grandpa: Nobody?

Nikolai: Uncle Stan. I told him when I was over there this morning, and he laughed.

Grandpa: In that case, ‘nobody’ seems accurate.

Nikolai: Grandpa!

Grandpa: My advice is to pay no attention to anybody who laughs at you when you’re being serious. Now, listen to me for a minute. You said Mishka wants a baby, but before you start trying to decide what to do about it, perhaps the first question you should be asking yourself is whether or not you want a baby.

Nikolai: I think I do. No… I do, but the idea of having a baby isn’t the problem. It’s how we’re going to have him.

Grandpa: What do you mean? Mishka’s adopted, isn’t he? I assume he’d want to adopt too.

Nikolai: He doesn’t want to adopt. Not as a first option, at least.

Grandpa : Oh?

Nikolai: He wants to have a science baby. That’s what Stan was laughing about. I think the mental image of pregnant men was too much for him. Either that, or he thinks it isn’t even real.

Grandpa: A science baby?

Nikolai: Yeah. It’s a real thing. Look, they have a website. Let me show you.

Grandpa: No need to show me. I know it’s real. know all about it.

Nikolai: Really?

Grandpa: It's a brilliant feat of bio-engineering, especially the extracorporeal gestation.

Nikolai: You know about that?

Grandpa: Biochemist, remember? I may be retired, but old chemists never die.

Nikolai: They just stop reacting.

Grandpa:*laughing* Glad to see you were paying attention back in the day when I was learning the concept of dad jokes.

Nikolai: That one is old, Grandpa. But you're not, obviously, since you're clearly still reacting.

Grandpa: I'd have to be literally dead not to react to the possibility of a great-grandchild.

Nikolai: Fair point.

Grandpa: So, which way does Mishka want to go with the science baby process?

Nikolai: I'm not sure he knows. He's just as fascinated with the whole science lab baby situation as you are, but somehow I get the feeling he'd like to actually, you know... carry it himself.

Grandpa: And you're uncomfortable with that.

Nikolai: Wouldn't you be?

Grandpa: Me personally? No, but I suppose my comfort level would also depend on my partner.

Nikolai: Well, my partner is delicate.

Grandpa: *nodding* Not a word i imagine most people would apply to him, but I can see that, yes.

Nikolai: He hates being sick, and his pain tolerance is practically non-existent, and he gets anxious about everything. I'm really worried it'd be too much for him. Besides, the thought of him being sick or in pain is like... Every time I think about it, it's like somebody's squeezing my heart in their fist.

Grandpa: Mishka might end up surprising you. It's amazing what people will put themselves through to have a child.

Nikolai: But... I don't want him to have to put himself through anything like that. Plus, I read on the website that there are risks. What if something went wrong?

Grandpa: You don't gain anything if you don't take risks. Isn't that something that old crank Stan always used to tell you?

Nikolai: That 'old crank' is younger than you.

Grandpa: Age is a state of mind. Anyway, I don't think he's wrong about the risk-taking, even if I'm annoyed at him for laughing at you.

Nikolai: Grandpa, this isn't a skating competition. It was one thing to take risks on the ice that only affected me in the end, but I'm not willing to take risks with the man I love or our possible future baby. But, on the other hand, I don't want to tell Mishka we can't do it, just because I'm scared.

Grandpa: You'll have to make up your mind sooner rather than later. I don't know if there's an age cut-off for the process, but didn't Mishka turn thirty-six back in February?

Nikolai: Yeah, and I know I need to make a decision soon, but I want to make the right decision, and... I don't know what that is.

Grandpa: I'll tell you my opinion, for what it's worth.

Nikolai: Please, tell me. What would you do if you were me?

Grandpa: If I were you, and you're really serious about having a child, I'd try to steer Mishka in the direction of extracorporeal gestion. The 'science lab baby situation' as you put it.

Nikolai: Okay, but why? Mishka's going to ask, and I'll have to be able to explain it to him.

Grandpa: Because it eliminates almost all the things you're worried about. Little Mishka wouldn't have to risk his heath or be in any pain, and you wouldn't have to stress yourself out about anything happening to him or the baby. Not to mention, lab babies grow in a completely clean and controlled environment, so the risk to them is extremely low, and the failure rate is less than two percent, last I read. So, you do all the initial screening and sample collection and whatnot, let the scientists do their thing, and nine months later, you're parents.

Nikolai: You make it sound so easy.

Grandpa: It would be easier for the two of you, since neither of you would have to do much to make it happen, but it's definitely not an easy process.

Nikolai: I guess Mishka and I still have things to talk about and think about, don't we?

Grandpa: I'd say you do.

Nikolai: This is a lot.

Grandpa: It is, but most couples go through something like this when they’re planning their family, so it’s nothing new.

Nikolai: Yeah, but it’s all new to us.

Grandpa: Can I make another suggestion?

Nikolai: Sure. What is it?

Grandpa: You and Mishka might want to arrange a consultation at the clinic where they do the procedure. Information on a website is fine, but there’s nothing like being able to talk to somebody and ask questions face to face.

Nikolai: Yeah. You know, I think I might feel better if we could do that.

Grandpa: If Mishka can cope with being in a room full of strangers, maybe try to get in on one of their group information sessions too.

Nikolai: Okay.

Grandpa: I know this a big, serious thing for both of you, but I believe in you. You’ll figure it out.

Nikolai: Thanks, Grandpa. You've helped a lot.

Grandpa: What are grandpas for, if not to help out their favourite grandsons with their stranger-than-fiction problems?

Nikolai: You're the most awesome grandpa ever.

Grandpa: Awesomeness is in our genes. That's why you're so outstanding. Best grandson ever, I'd say.

Nikolai: Until the great-grandchild comes along?

Grandpa: Oh, I'm sure I'll fall in love with them on sight, but you're always going to be my favourite.

Nikolai: You'd better not let Natascha find out.

Grandpa: I don't think it's a secret at this point, do you?

Nikolai: *laughing* No, probably not.

Grandpa: I love your sister just as much as I love you. That's what matters.

Nikolai: I love you, too.

Grandpa: Good luck with your decision.

Nikolai: Thanks. I'll keep you updated, okay?

Grandpa: I'd appreciate that.

Nikolai: Consider it done, then. I've got to go now. I have to pick up Mishka from his language class and then we're heading to the airport to meet Sam, but I'll call you later, all right? You can fill me in on all the latest Windward Shore gossip and tell me how your search for a roommate’s been going.

Grandpa: Be prepared for a long phone call.

Nikolai: I’ll be looking forward to it.

[pyrrhicraven]

Morty and Beth both looked a little...Lost? Hell, he was a bit lost too. This Rick was sitting in a home office for starters rather than the garage, not to mention this house was not where theirs was. It was secluded and well for lack of better words rich.

Wearing pretty much what he was wearing but cleaner, and the cherry on top? A young woman with long dark blond hair clinging to him as he typed on a laptop. Face buried on his chest so they couldn't see her, her knees on either side of this Rick, one arm wrapped around his middle the other around his shoulder and a pale dress or nightgown caught around her thighs.

"This is terrible timing you know." Other Rick said and honestly, Rick had eyes in his head of course he could tell that.

"Err." Beth glanced at him and he shrugged, this wasn't part of the plan not that he'd really had one?

"Look whatever you want can it wait? I'm busy." He was blunt to the point but really if he was here then it was more than likely that he had what they were after.

"Uh jeez I mean not really?" Morty said clearly a little distracted by the lady and the other Rick sighed and slammed the computer closed, standing but holding the woman attached to him.

"Give me a fucking second then." They followed him as he moved to the room across the hall. A bedroom done in light creams and evergreens. He set the woman down who immediately buried herself under the comforter. Rick shooed them out and closed the door before leading them downstairs and to the living room.

"Who is she?" Beth asked softly and other Rick sighed, picking his nails. Nervous habit, he'd grown out of that.

"Who are you?" other Rick asked right back. Did he not? Was Beth not here or in his life?

"Beth." Other Rick shivered. "That was my daughter's name...But she died here. Diane left after she. Fuck. Why are you here?" If Beth didn't exist here then neither did Summer and Morty.

"You lost your Beth?" Beth said in a tone that meant she wanted answers.

"Yeah...uh, old house I had a lab in a garage that Beth liked playing in even though both of us told her not to...apparently another version of me planted a bomb to kill me and it." Other Rick placed his knuckles to his mouth eyes unfocused lost in a memory of the death.

"We heard the explosion and found Beth dying. I tried to save her, but it was too late. She died in my arms, Diane couldn't handle it and so she divorced me and I couldn't. I couldn't stay there with that memory." So he'd left the house and got this place?

"So you're not like after revenge or whatever?" Morty asked and other Rick laughed.

"With the way my life ended up so far hell no. If I'd been with Diane or Beth hadn't died I wouldn't have met her." The woman upstairs, what was so special about her? Beth let out a weird laugh and other Rick frowned.

"What the fuck?" Beth said and other Rick put his elbows on his knees.

"I got really fucked up after the death and divorce and man I pissed off a lot of people and some sent assassins. She was one of them, but during our fight, I used the portal gun-shes really good at killing I wasn't sure if I was going to win fucked up like I was at the time." Other Rick laughed, the smile on his face soft. Whimpy.

"She saw it was possible for portal tech and fucking made her own. I didn't even make mine-it was given to me, fucking smartest man in the universe and I used a shortcut. She's been able to keep up with me to the point I don't know if I'd win a fight against her." Probably from both a physical and emotional loss honestly, if they were as close as he suspected they were.

"So she's like your new wife?" Other Rick barked out a laugh, that sounded a little mad.

"Naw, we're more like..." He seemed to think a little too hard for that answer.

"She's not a romantic partner really, mostly because she doesn't float that way. We're like family but not really? I dunno, I try not to give it a name if I can."

[k0komis]

Reader who's an esteemed researcher in snezsnaya was helping dottore in the new project assigned by the tsaritsa.

The two have the same level of intelligence but so does their ego so they argue a lot, but this one particular day, it got so worse, both of them trying to prove themselves correct they ended up hate fucking on his office.

Not really a big fan of hate fucking so at the middle of it they realize they admire each other's intelligence and skill it's just that their ego is too big for them to admit it.

In the end they do actually like each other 🤭

❦ Tfw ego gets in your way ❦

A/N : Anon your genius! Sorry for the delay I had some practicals going on. Also since you mentioned them being on-par, I made them have quite the self control (i.e. no cockdrunk reader).

Warnings : MINORS BEGONE | Fem-Bodied Reader, Explicit sex, Rough sex, Blowjobs, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Anal and No lube because it's Dottore, There's no Dom/Sub, Y'all being mean to each other, Mentions of questionable research, Dialogue heavy, Swearing

What could possibly go wrong, you had asked yourself. Turns out everything. You had been working on a project that required the subject to be kept in very specific conditions. Well, they escaped due to the negligence of your assistants. Added to that was the arrogance if your research partner, Dottore.

You were renowned for being a hard working researcher, having many years of experience in the Fatui. But you always were in the shadow of your senior- and the harbinger- Il Dottore. It pissed you off in every way possible and you couldn't help but always be criticising his work.

And he returned your kindness. He'd mock you for not being upto his standards or not being able to be a harbinger yet.

And speaking of the man, you came face to face as you were striding down the hallways with a frown on his face. He was talking to a Pyroslinger, pointing a funny looking test tube in his hand. When Dottore noticed you, he dismissed the guy and kept the testtube back in his pocket.

"Ah, Doctor Y/N, successful with your experiment yet?" He asked.

You gave him the sweetest smile possible and replied, "They wanted to feel the snow of Snezhnaya I suppose, so my underlings let them out on a trip."

Dottore grinned, his shark teeth showing. Oh how you wished he bit his tongue off someday.

"Well, Doctor, I need your help. Care to join me?"

You didn't really enjoy him mockingly calling you Doctor. He came up with that joke ever since people started remarking how you had caught up to his genius.

But you obliged. You needed to get your mind off the mishap, otherwise your assistants might no longer see the next day. You couldn't really afford that, sometimes the Fatui was stingy with their research funds.

After reaching the lab, he closed the door behind you two. He had that strange practice, being used to people trying to escape his presence. You didn't care though. You could probably take him. ... In a fight, you've never tried the other one.

He showed you an automaton and remarked, "I've been trying to incorporate human consciousness into an inanimate being. Your speciality is Neurology, hence I need your help."

You toyed around with the mechanism, trying to understand how it functions. You immediately came up with some possible hypothesis , but refrained from telling him any.

"How much am I getting paid?" You asked

"Paid?" He laughed, "You should be honoured working with me."

"Then excuse me I'm leaving."

You were almost at the door, thinking yourself to be witty, when he retorted, "You are replaceable, Y/N, don't think so highly of yourself."

And something in you snapped.

You walked up to him, poking your face closer to his, "Watch your tongue, Doctor ."

"You're funny, what makes you think I should even try to respect you?"

You were getting furious. First of all, simply him existing annoyed you, and secondly, he was straight up insulting you. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and snorted.

"What will make you respect me?"

Dottore 's smile made you shiver. It was calculated, he knew what he wanted to do and say. He grabbed your chin, lifting your head to meet his masked eyes.

"Beg me to respect you." He broke into maniacal laughter. "Maybe I'll tape it and display it to every Fatui. No matter how esteemed of a researcher you are, you would still succumb to ME!!"

There were ... Strange feelings inside you. The poison in his words were distant, you could only focus on his proud face. You noticed he was in a slightly compromised position, having been pushed against a table with your weight. And in that split second you took the decision.

You pulled him closer, shutting up his laughter by smashing your lips onto his. You felt hin stiffen, and you pulled away.

"Shut up." You murmured, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You saw his confidence falter, slowly registering what you had done. You saw him out the pieces together and he finally grinned, lips stretched ear to ear.

You were unsure what he was thinking, but his grasp on you got tighter, his hands now grabbing your hips.

"You're filthy." He said, before leaning into your ear and whispering, "Just how I like it."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself." Now you were improvising, having no idea where the impulse of kissing him came from. You fidgeted in his grasp for a moment, before concluding you had only wandered deeper into the spider's web.

You huffed when his hands started travelling up your spine, right up to your neck. He pressed into your throat, cutting of your air. You clenched your jaw, not willing to give into his shenanigans. In return, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, trying to pull it out of his scalp.

"Fuck." He moaned, "That's hot."

"You're messed up." You said, lightly amused.

He was stronger- which was proven when he overpowered you to slam you onto the table.

"What, do you say-" he pressed his body on top of you, notably his crotch on your ass- "we prove our worth to each other."

You rolled your eyes, quickly using his distraction as an advantage to flip your positions and pin him down.

"Why don't I show my talents in neurology to you huh? Gonna stimulate those nerve endings for you?" You chuckled, keeping eye contact as you unbuttoned his shirt.

Dottore made an 'oh' sound, and he allowed you to strip him. His own hands were tugging on your shirt, frown on his face because he couldn't figure out the workings of your dress. So he simply ripped it off.

His bare torso was laid out for you to ogle. His skin had a light shine from the sweat; clearly his body was feeling it despite the winter. You were top-naked too, though Dottore's hands provided some coverage. He groped your tits, a dark laugh leaving his lips.

"Whore."

"Then I suppose I should help with this." You palmed his crotch, feeling his dick strain against the fabric of his pants. A part of you wondered whether it was a living or mechanical being behind the skin but the rest of you was anticipating being dicked down.

"Please." He was almost begging. Pride bloomed in your heart, knowing that the Doctor was weak for you.

You got to work taking off his trousers, hurriedly freeing the poor organ. It sprung out and you almost comically flinched from it's size.

You looked up at his face, trying to understand what he was feeling. The mask was in your way. You tried to ask him about it, and he immediately replied,

"The mask stays on during sex."

You huffed and put your attention back to his dick. You stroked it gently, Dottore patiently waiting for you to give him his release. Quickly stealing a glance at him, you pressed your lips on it.

"FUCK." A moan tore out from the man's lips.

"Sensitive. Noted."

You gave little licks along the length, his fingers digging into your scalp. Your motions were teasing, trying to find every single spot that would stimulate him the most.

"Get to the main part you whore or I'll have to do it myself." Dottore said through gritted teeth.

You obliged, taking his full length into your mouth. Dottore gasped from the sensation, and couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked with his cock filling out your cheeks.

You bobbed your head up and down, feeling the veins harden with every contact. How long will he last, you wondered.

Within seconds his grip on your scalp had tightened, him now forcing your head up and down to set his own pace. You whined in protest, though being ignored by him. Your hands were resting on his thighs for support, and you thought it's be a funny idea to pinch him.

"Brat." He breathed out as he pulled out of your mouth to release his cum all over your chest. You sat there for a few seconds, registering what just happened.

"That was great, Y/N, but I approach my subjects more directly." He said, now lifting you up and slamming you back on the table. He got close to your ear and whispered, "I like them marked too."

Saying that he dug his teeth into your collarbone, with you screaming out his name. You felt warm blood trickle down your skin.

"Get it? I'm less kind. That's what makes me successful."

You own trousers were now off, your ass exposed to his administrations.

"I get it, Mr. Sadism, now will you fuck me or not?" You huffed out impatiently.

"So eager..." He sighed, smacking your ass hard. You yelped, grabbing the sides of the table for support.

You heard him spit on his dick, and you realised what was about to happen.

"Oh no, oh no, shouldn't have rushed you-"

And with that he plunged straight in. Your voice got stuck in your throat because your body was more concerned with trying to fit your walls around his length and size. He pulled out almost immediately, before plunging right back in.

He gave you no time to either complain or appreciate, he was set on a brutal pace probably meant to rearrange everything inside you. You were repeating something over and over, but your ears were ringing with so much pleasure that you could barely hear yourself.

And just like that it all stopped suddenly. You were feeling hot and stuffed, but Dottore had pulled out leaving you just at the tip of your release.

"I had said it once before. Beg me for it, y/n." He said, his voice oh-so-cocky.

You regretted not pulling the denial trick when you were sucking on his cock.

But this denial wasn't one sided. He was close to his release too and all he wanted was your sweet sweet voice to cry for him. Seeing you not respond to him, he thumbed your clit, drawing more moans out of you.

"Say. It. Whore."

You almost laughed. If you controlled yourself right now, you could cause him the most minor inconvenience in his life. But in the end, you couldn't.

"Dottore... make me cum, please."

He did. His thumb bullying your clit while he plunged right back to your depths pushed you over the edge. You came all over his fingers, and he leaned in to give you reassuring kissing on your spine. He too climaxed, hot seed spilling into your intestines.

The two of you were breathing heavily, and Dottore laid down beside you on the table.

"Do you think anyone heard us?"

You ignored him, your eyes fixed on his face. He filled you with so many feelings, hate, jealousy, annoyance, but somehow in the end you trusted him. You two have worked countless times together and everytime you recall those memories the first image that pops into your mind his his proud face examining his work.

Maybe... you liked him.

And he did too. Otherwise the Second Harbinger would have not spared a second thought at assassinating someone who annoyed him.

[donotstealoc]

Blorbo Spotlight: Trynnt

Howdy gamers! In today's spotlight we have a character from Pip/Pyppyn (he/they) @pyppyn. Go check out their blog!

Who do we have the pleasure of speaking with today?

Excelsior! I'm Trynnt! That's Explorer or Artificer Trynnt if we're using titles, but I just like my name.

What's your background? Where do you come from?

I'm from a smaller settlement on the Tarnished Coast called Rata Kasus. It's a good way away from Rata Sum but there are just as many krewes and labs at work out there. Fishing too, your regular coastal town. I graduated from the College of Synergetics and apprenticed with a few different krewes before making my own way in the world. These days I live in Lion's Arch with my family!

What are some important relationships in your life? (romantic, platonic, familial, etc)

I'm lucky to have two romantic partners - my wife Seffi and our other partner Welxx. His name may not be on our marriage contract but he's every bit important to us. They both mean the world to me and I'm glad to have made a life with them.

My other closest relationship would have to be my older brother Czoll. He and Seffi always looked out for me when we were little and to this day he's the kindest, most caring person I know. I love 'ya, big guy.

I have some great friends as well! i could talk to Zexx for hours about jewelcraft and chronomancy and the same goes for Neffh's understanding of the magitechnical use of necromancy. It's been a delight to work and learn with them and I'll always enjoy the time we spend together. True geniuses and great people, both of them.

This ah- this list would get really long if I kept going, so I'll move on!

Have you done anything you'd like to brag about?

You're giving an Asura an opportunity to brag? You're either very brave or very foolish and will regret this by the time I'm done!

I'm an elementalist - a weaver specifically - and I've always been fascinated by the way different kinds of magic interact. It all exists in a kind of balance across a broad spectrum. Not just the four elements, but everything! It's always changing, working in harmony at one point or total dissonance at another. That kind of ordered chaos got me thinking.

I'm also an artificer - an inventor. I make machines and technologies that I hope to use to better the world around us. Tyria's changed a lot in the past decade, and now more than ever is it important that we rebuild and we've been given an amazing opportunity to do that thanks to Aurene and Her unique fusion of different magics that should react violently - but don't!

-ah bolts, I'm rambling. I made a machine that uses prismaticite to alter the state of magic from one input to another! I call it the Prismatic Aetherconverter. Turns out if you cut those crystals in the precise way, you can alter their output of magic. Put that assembly in a channel and feed magic through the whole system, you get a means of shifting its attunement to your exact specifications.

I use this for my other craftwork. It's a great way to speed up enchanting or charging magitech and it's a great source of magic for study in lab environments! I hope to improve its scalability and introduce a number of different form factors in the coming years, make magic more accessible to the masses.

What's your profession? What does a typical day look like for you?

I'm an explorer with the Durmand Priory. I joined almost ten years ago now and my responsibilities there vary from day to day.

If I'm out in the field it probably means I'm part of an expedition or a Pact taskforce looking to discover something or solve a problem. For me that often means I'm a small part of a much bigger team. Excavation, ruins-delving, anomalous materials handling. Everybody's important and everybody's got their role to fill. What we uncover tends to end up in my lab for analysis and adaptation into artifice.

If I'm working back at the Priory proper, I serve a logistics role. Any equipment requests for advanced technology, enchanted items, and specialized tools flow through me and artificers like me - a golem suit for hazardous environments, a camera designed to look into the Mists, or special munitions for use against dragon minions, for instance.

I find the work to be quite fulfilling!

What are some hobbies you enjoy?

I like to collect and restore old technology for starters! Really old - stuff my grandparents would have used. Datapads, audio devices, communicators, golems and golemites, that sort of thing. A lot of it doesn't work but it has a history all the same. We Asura don't have many connections to our past because of the Elder Dragons, so it feels like a way to look back on where we came from.

I play Polymock too. I was never good enough for the pro leagues but what could be more fun than some simulated holographic violence between Tyria's deadliest monsters? There's a card game variant too that makes for good entertainment on longer expeditions.

If all of that wasn't enough, Seffi's good at keeping me active! We swim or go on hikes or head out to Tyria's different mountain ranges for rock climbing. We don't bother with climbing back down though - that's what gliders are for! She calls me a cheater for using earth magic to speed my way up the cliffs, but she sure doesn't complain about more airtime after the fact. The Festival of the Four Winds is the best time for it - tall rocks, strong currents, and the summer sun? Alchemy, that's just perfect.

-

That's all for today! If you're an UWU guild member and would like to put your character in the spotlight, use this form!

[fullofgutsndopamine]

bruised knuckles brought me here

or, three truths and a lie: hasan is drunk and an idiot and she promised herself she’d stop adopting strays at frat parties. one of these is a lie.

tw: drinking (to excess),hockey!hasan (mentioned), hasan is a drunk idiot,cursing, mention of puking, not finished another one of the: 'fics i'll never finish'

the funny thing is, she wouldn't even know about his existence if it weren't for the chanting coming from his corner.

look, she made a promise to herself to stop fucking rescuing strays and yes that especially includes frat brothers, for the love of god.

her new resolution was to mind her business, drink her lemonade in the corner of the party, wait until an acceptable amount of time has passed and then leave.

it's the cheering.

it's always the god damn cheering.

her head perks up, thinking maybe it's someone from class she knows, a friendly face to make this party tolerable-

instead it's the one constant in her life she can't get rid of.

hasan is drunk.

this is obvious, even from as far away as she is. drinks always get passed to him the second he walks through the door, claps on the back, greetings.

hasan is fucking everyone's best friend, a party is political campaign and he's not leaving until he finds out how your mother is doing (after you mentioned her once, sobbing and drunk) or how the other frat brother is holding up in his math class.

she imagines it's exhausting for him, but she refuse to let herself linger on it to long or to feel any kind of guilt towards him-

and she had disappeared the second she saw him staggering around, one of those blue plastic baby pools in front of him.

"fucking idiots I swear-" she mumbles, shift her weight from one foot to the other, debating on interrupting him.

she don't know hasan. that's obvious. she knows of him but who doesn't, really.

everyone's friend, star right winger for the colleges hockey team (with a team like hers, at a college like this, it isn't hard to be the star, but she’s seen how hard he works, so she can't really deny it) and seeing him, clearly drunk out of his mind, is hard to watch.

deciding she can't be an accomplice to whatever bullshit is about to happen, she angles her body away-

it's the way the entire crowd all flinches, "Oohs" being yelled out, that finally makes her turn around.

hasan lays on his back in the empty kiddie pool.

For a second, she thinks he's dead, that she’s an accomplice to murder-

until he groans, a loud "Fuuuck" is yelled out as he holds his shoulder and rolls back and forth.

"Idiot-"

"Yo!" One of his friends fell out, "Can we get some fuckin' help?"

no more adopting strays- you tell yourself gently-especially not frat brothers-

"no but like," he's hiccuping, crying fat tears, "I think i hurt my shoulder."

"Fucking idiot." she chugs what's left in the cup, throws it onto a table, and beelines for the corner.

"what did you idiots get into this time?" she groans as she kneel down, offering her hand to hasan.

"Our guardian angel!" one of them yells out, clearly drunk, "Yeah-I remember you! You got Sam when he ran through that fence!"

she remembers this guy; Clay, she think it is, he's nice enough for the most part, sometimes walks with her to class and has these elaborate stories that make her laugh, a good enough lab partner-

"Guys."

hasan groans from the inside of the pool, rolling around, holding his shoulder, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes as she and Clay lift him up slowly, ignoring his whimpering.

he looks at her, glassy eyed, sniffles, rubbing at his eyes, "C-Can you grab my other arm?" he hiccups, "I think i fucked this arm up."

understatement of the year but she rolls her eyes as she obeys, switching over to the other side,

"You got him?" Clay says gently, seems sober

"We'll be okay. Gonna get the idiot some water." she groans-and he gasps from your side-

"Idiot?" mock horror, “how dare you-“ he stops.

"hasan." she says, watching him carefully.

"Think i'm gonna be sick." he whimpers.

"Oh, my god." she groans, picking up speed. she only made it to the kitchen, have him kneel on the cold floor, his head buried in the trash as he pukes.

she rubs his back, hating that this is becoming a normal Saturday her you now-

he pulls his head out and she offers him water, which he takes, sitting with his back against the wall.

he looks bad, is all pale, "My Ma use to make me soup when i'm sick," he whimpers, "Will you make me some soup?"

she bites her tongue from saying that he's sick because of his own stupidity, looks so pathetic suddenly-

and that's how she finds herself standing on her tip toes, digging through cabinets in this frat house, looking for any discarded metal cans of soup, standing at the stove as you stir carefully, hasan’s voice is low, as he tells elaborate stories he made up, but she’s giggling, and he takes that as a win.

[orcinus-veterinarius]

https://aqua.org/stories/2023-06-26-sanctuary-state thoughts? I really don’t like this. THE National Aquarium has fully embraced the ARA rhetoric around dolphins in captivity, saying that their own dolphin exhibit is “patronizing” and “for human entertainment”, despite the fact that they’re a scientific aquarium that is clearly leaps and bounds better than any of those cheap tourist trap dolphin swim places. The “Whale Sanctuary Project” has clearly stated on its website that they want to put an end to all wildlife in captivity, so it honestly makes me sick that National is partnering with them. They’ve turned their backs on all their colleagues in the AZA that have dolphins and slandered them. I hope they lose their AZA accreditation over this.

Thank you for this ask. I read National's statement a few weeks ago, and it made me sick to my stomach. I didn't post about it because honestly I was unsure I would be able to speak on the issue without becoming overly emotional, but you have expressed basically everything I feel.

At this point, it isn't that National is moving their dolphins to a sea pen that bothers me. We've known this for seven years, and since they're an AZA facility, I had to at least have a little faith that this was for the animals' wellbeing. I've met several trainers and veterinarians who left the National Aquarium at least in part due to their handling of the dolphin situation, but I never imagined it was this bad until now. This world-renowned aquarium is repeating activist rhetoric pretty much verbatim. They're partnering with an anti-zoo organization that works against everything they stand for as an institution. They're publicly slandering their colleagues. If I didn't know better, I would think this was a thinkpiece by PETA and not an official statement from an AZA institution. I also find it incredibly disturbing that they claim the "success" of SEA LIFE's Beluga Whale Sanctuary (and the non-existent Whale Sanctuary Project??) serves as their example, when it has been... slightly less than successful.

If I could ask National's CEO one thing, it would be this: Are the other animals in your collection not entertainment? What makes them different? What makes them "education" but your dolphins "exploitation"? Elasmobranchs, for example, are a staple of public aquaria, but they present their own host of issues. Reproductive disease, nutritional imbalances, musculoskeletal deformities. Why are you giving up on your dolphins but not them? Will you let an activist group take them next?

I'm afraid I must agree with you... they do not deserve to remain in the AZA. Not if they're going to brazenly accuse their fellow members of animal abuse while allowing anti-zoo organizations to dictate their own animals' care. I'm really, really scared of where this is going, and I would love to see the other AZA aquariums housing cetaceans (Brookfield Zoo, Disney's Epcot, Georgia Aquarium, Indianapolis Zoo, Marineland Florida, Mystic Aquarium, Shedd Aquarium, Texas State Aquarium, the SeaWorld parks, and numerous international members) release a joint statement on the issue affirming their committment to ex situ conservation, research, and public outreach. And I deeply hope none of the "10 other dolphin-holding institutions" mentioned are AZA facilities.

I wish the best to Beau, Foster, Chesapeake, Bayley, Spirit, Jade, and their caregivers, who are losing the animals to whom they've devoted their lives to a situation in which they have no say.

I do also wish to share this statement from Jason Bruck's lab. Dr. Bruck is a PhD animal behaviorist specializing in dolphin communication and cognition both in the wild and in human care.

[livewireprojects]

Nikki & Reala(Bootleg Sonadow)

I admit my addiction is bad but this isn't the first time I've made shit based on other interests/characters I like. So I decided to make some characters inspired by a ship I like along with AU ideas I saw in the past that I tried messing with before scrapping at one point or another.

This is Reala & Nikki who like the title jokes are inspired by Shadow & Sonic, it might not look like it(not helped by lack of color) especially if you have seen how I draw Shadow & Sonic but when I eventually work on showing their backstories it'll make more sense. Also yeah I named Reala after a certain nightmare clown, I'm not original. These two are also meant to be connected to my OCs Terry & Arthur(Nikki makes that kinda clear) which I'll talk about at another time.

Also these two aren't meant to be in the Sonic universe, they're in their own thing but you can joke that they're alternate Shadow & Sonic if you want cause I find that funny

Reala:

Reala is a bit of a distant person, he seems a lot like a loner with only some people managing to be around him but in reality he's just an introvert that isn't good with people especially given he's lost people he's cared about in the past. Reala was born in a lab on a space station, there were a few people he cared about & was sadly in two incidents that led to the lose of people important to him with one person's existence being erased from records & their partner's info being corrupted so no one could find anything on them. Though grieving the lose of his family/those close to him along with dealing with changes/the new world he now lives in Reala has slowly accepted he's in a better time & takes comfort in Nikki's help/companionship. He's slowly learning to live for himself & get into hobbies he hadn't gotten the chance to try in the past, he's also gotten help from Nikki to learn about the world they live on as Nikki knows more about it than he does.

Nikki:

Nikki is a friendly person that likes to run around & explore, he can often be seen sky gazing at night before bed staring out a the stars. He does his best to keep up with/understand his friends as he doesn't always understand what they're talking about, despite this he does his best to listen cause he knows it's important to have a shoulder to lean on or someone to talk to. Nikki in the past has struggled especially due to being alone for a long time but is slowly coming to terms with having people that care surround him, it also helps that Reala has been growing closer to him as Nikki use to feel like something was missing but now feels like that feeling is gone as if Reala was what was missing. Nikki can often be seen wearing star themed stuff along with his hat & hoodie poncho, he doesn't always but he's usually seen in them. Nikki isn't affected by temperature, he can feel it & can get hurt depending on what's going(like touching a heated stove or something) but it doesn't effect him much all of this is just to say he doesn't really need to wear these warm clothes. Nikki sometimes says that the poncho feels like someone is hugging him which might be due to being alone in the past. His hat & poncho often make it hard to tell what species of animal he is, not helped by Nikki kind of being unsure himself.

Drew this a little after drawing Reala & Nikki, here's Nikki with out his hat/poncho that usually cover him. I think I made a mistake drawing the hat in his hand cause I don't exactly like how it looks like that.

Like I mentioned in the first pic Nikki is often seen wandering around in a hat & poncho that make it hard to tell what species he is & makes it seem like he's not to sure either.(He's mostly hedgehog) Nikki has a few outfits he can put on but he usually is in tanks & sports shorts, he also has sports shoes on & some socks/stockings that are rolled at the ankles, I drew one of them slightly unrolled to show they're longer.(Was tempted to have the unrolled one be above the knee but I dunno what to put so it's just partly unrolled) Nikki has one large glove on & one normal sized glove, for some reason I got inspired by this one red ridding hood design I found once & can't find anymore.(Google Image Search failed) Probably doesn't help that I use to have an obsession with red riding hood themed stuff.

I was almost tempted to draw him without his shoes but meh. He also has a few markings on him like his ears, under his eyes, neck & legs.

[ashwhowrites]

You asked for Chrissy requests because you miss her, and I miss her too!

So can I request fluff prompts 7 “You’re the only person I want to spend my life with” and 30 "I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to the whole proposing thing." Where the reader was the one who originally was going to propose? Thank you!

I'm so glad you're writing Chrissy, there is such a lack of content for her and your writing is wonderful <3

Thank you for requesting her and thank you for the compliment! Enjoy the fluff for our girl

Chrissy and Y/N met in college, easily becoming friends during a chemistry lab. Chrissy mixed together the wrong liquids and set off a small explosion. But the explosion in her heart, when Y/N raced over to help clean up the mess, was a lot bigger.

Newly single, after she dumped Jason as she left for college, Chrissy found herself looking over into Y/N's direction a lot. And apparently not subtle about it either, as Y/N giggled at her every day and sent a flirty wave.

Then they became partners for a huge project, spending most of the semester in each other's dorms. After that they became really good friends.

Chrissy craved more so she decided for once in her life she'd be confident and make the first move.

During a party at the end of the semester, Chrissy asked Y/N to go with her. And towards the end of it, Chrissy went in for the kiss. And to her surprise Y/N kissed her back, and hard.

When she woke in Y/N's bed naked and in her arms, she didn't regret a single thing.

~~

And now four years later they graduated, hand in hand, girlfriend and girlfriend.

Dating Y/N and falling in love with her for the past four years has been the best part of Chrissy's life. She never knew she could feel so desired, wanted, and loved.

Which is why she knew she wanted to marry her.

She already found the ring. Randomly as she walked through the mall, her only friend left from high school, Eddie Munson by her side.

"wait you want to propose to her?" Eddie asked as he watched Chrissy's eyes looking over rings.

"yes. I love her and I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

~~

Y/N has been wanting to propose to her girlfriend for months. She loved Chrissy more than she has loved anyone in her life. She wanted to be hers forever and soon.

She's been searching for a ring but couldn't find the one.

She refused to propose without the perfect ring.

~~

Chrissy was seconds away from crying in the jewelry store. She could not find the perfect ring. Every single one Eddie pointed to she hated.

"Eddie god your taste is so bad!" She groaned frustrated.

"don't be mean to me because you are searching for a ring that does not exist" he said sternly. Scolding her like a father would.

~~

Another month passed and she found it. The perfect ring for Y/N. The second she saw it she knew it was the one.

Now she had to plan the actual proposal.

~~

Y/N had no idea why her girlfriend was volunteering at their old college and why she needed her help.

It was supposed to be date night. So Y/N dressed for THAT. She dressed in a formal dress, hair done to perfection, make up done the exact way Chrissy liked it. And walking in heels. But then she got a call, Chrissy was stuck at the college and couldn't get out of the door.

"I think something is blocking it. I'm so sorry for making us late, could you come get me out love?"

Not sure why she even asked, Chrissy could get anything she wanted with Y/N. Y/N could never say no to her girlfriend's beautiful face. All she ever wanted to do was make her happy and smile.

So now she stands in her old college walking to the chemistry lab. Smiling to herself as she reached the door. Deja vu hit her. A few years ago she walked through these exact doors and met the girl of her dreams.

"baby?" She called out loud. The door wasn't blocked at all. In fact, it opened perfectly fine.

As she walked in, she froze in her spot. The chemistry lab looked the same, but at the very table they met at, was Chrissy with a huge smile on her face. Dressed beautifully in a green dress. Hair down and curled. The room was dark but lit up with fairy lights and candles.

"what's going on?" Y/N asked as she let out a nervous laugh, now walking closer to Chrissy

"I wanted to ask you something but wanted to do it in the place I first ever fell in love with you." Chrissy smiled

Y/N felt nerves kicking in. Was she going to propose? Or what was this?

Her questions were answered when Chrissy in fact got down on one knee, the slit in her long dress showed her knee.

"Chrissy oh my god" Y/N gasped out. Holding her hands over her mouth, tears already working their way down

"you're the only person I want to spend my life with. I love you more every day and I want to love you forever. Will you marry me?"

"are you kidding me?" Y/N scoffed, a small smile behind her lips.

Chrissy's smile fell.

"`what?" She squeaked out. Now anxious that this wasn't the right time in their life for this.

"I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to the whole proposing thing!" Y/N whined, stomping her heel into the floor

Chrissy laughed in relief that her girlfriend did want this.

"well I asked first so" Chrissy said sticking out her tongue

"I'll answer first then, I will of course marry you"

The girls giggled together, tears falling down faster as Chrissy stood up. Grabbing the ring from the table and placing it on Y/N's finger. Smiling at how beautiful the ring looked on her.

"just when I do this in about a month on that surprise vacation in Greece I got for us, you have to say yes." Y/N warned, her finger bopping Chrissy's nose

"gladly"

[the-paris-of-people]

I truly don't understand some of the criticisms of the sex lives of college girls season 2, particularly with the s2 finale. Yes, I agree the pacing is confusing and inconsistent, but the same can also be said of the Mindy Project, s3 of Never Have I Ever, or a LOT of other popular shows. They definitely could have defined time better in the show by explicitly stating major holidays/ I'm going to be detailing my response to some of the criticisms that I've seen from both reviewers and critics:

1.) The constant introduction of new characters and high romantic relationship turnover:

Honestly this one confuses me greatly because.... it's their first year of college? You're constantly meeting new people and "trying them on" as friends, as romantic partners, as hook-ups. It's realistic that you would be able to look back on your freshman year and laugh at how you had sex with your annoying biochem lab partner, or fucked a short king and cheated on your boyfriend and screwed things over, or went through a twincest phase, or were constantly catching the eye of the campus hotties. Honestly, the fact that these characters are slowly reckoning with their own identities and figuring out what they want out of their relationships (and the fact that some of them have!! after their first year of college!) is incredibly realistic. Also it's the second season of the show!! The characters need novel experiences (or at least just EXPERIENCES) for "character building" in the later years of their college journeys. Freshman year of college (and even just being 18-19) is supposed to be messy, and fun, and make no sense because you're figuring out who you are. I don't understand how people can't attribute the "messiness" of the plotlines with the life phase of the girls

2.) The fall of Leighton x Tatum and the revival of Leighton x Alicia:

Truly, I didn't know people were nvested in their relationship. From the very beginning, Tatum was cited as part of a "twincest" phase of coming out by Miss Willow (who is my favorite btw) and there was nothing that negated that. Tatum simply served as a catalyst for Leighton realizing how far she had come in embracing her lesbian identity, and just generally, realizing she cared wayyyy more about the LGBTQ+ community and other people's feelings that putting on this cool girl facade. Everything she did to impress Tatum at the beginning (the art gallery, trying to catch her attention) should how image and status-obsessed Leighton was, only for it to all fall down when she realized she cared more about changing and becoming a better person. Which is a positive thing! Also, what "relationship" was there to ruin? Tatum and Leighton had just started seeing each other and if count their dates including the dinner with the dads, had probably only had been on a small number of dates. This is in stark contrast with Leighton's relationship with Alicia, who she spent LOADS of time with at the women's center and privately in their own personal relationship. Alicia, on the other hand, who initially was everything Leighton didn't want to be in season one, actually was the person who taught Leighton a lot and made Leighton into a better person through Alicia's efforts at the women's center. I truly don't understand people's criticisms of Alicia's character that she was "so performative" and Tatum "showed that you can just be gay and exist without all this activism" I feel like that's code for "Tatum is more easily digestible in this cis, white, heteronormative world therefore I like her better as a love interest" Alicia, in my opinion, has a lot of positive qualities. She's bright, hilarious, has great chemistry with Leighton, and is incredibly caring and devoted to the LGBTQ+ community. I don't understand how it's a bad thing that she's seen an activist, she is just trying to create a safe space and make the world a more inclusive place.

3.) Bela's character demise:

This one REALLY pisses me off. To see people turn on Bela in what is clearly a trauma response after they claimed to stan her so hard in season one is absolutely reprehensible to me. Also, like the NHIE fandom shows, it proves that you can be a white woman and get away with anything whereas if you're POC, you make one mistake (particularly this is in response the point in the series where Bela cheated on Eric with Dan) and everyone turns against you. Seriously, no one says a word about Leighton gaslighting Natalie for not informing her about her chylamydia? And she never apologized to her either! People are forgetting how traumatizing the world of the Catullan was to Bela in s1. She was assaulted and belittled, and in the very beginning of the show was taught (with the six handjobs) that it was beneficial to leverage her sexuality to get ahead. Eric perpetuated this idea when Bela chided him for showing off in front of Dan in front of her, this idea that she needed to do whatever possible to rise to the top of her field. Also, the rigorous "rushing" process of the Catullan made her feel like other people also had to tough it out and that ultimately went to her head when she was in a position of power, which is NOT UNCOMMON! AT ALL! From the very beginning, Bela was a people pleaser and trying so hard to get people (her roommates, comedy writers, etc.) and coming up short so from the start this was built into her character. People are saying they hated Bela's character arc this season clearly do not understand TV and are not in it for the long haul. Regular people do not have linear journeys. They go through traumatic or triggering events which fuck them up, then they go down to their darkest point before they can rise again. The fact that this was written into Bela's character and the fact that they thought about her trauma response and wrote it into journey this season is amazing to me, and a sign of GOOD writing, not bad writing at all. The fact that people don't have anything but empathy for my girl is incredibly sad to me.

3.) Whitney's love affair with biochem and sex affair with the son of Julia Louis Dreyfus:

I feel like I haven't seen as much criticism of this besides the lack of direction in her romantic life. To that I say, Whitney explicitly said she was focused on finding herself this season. Her main goal was to explore her other interests outside soccer and to have fun, outside of relationships. Her cheating trauma (from that ugly ass man dalton) came back when she checked Canaan's phone, and though bio bro didn't really teach her much about romantic relationships, but like.... does everyone have to? Isn't it fun to hook up with your lab partner while discovering your passions? Also catty-words did a much better job of articulating Whitney's arc with Canaan than I ever could. Again, college is for being messy and self-discovery and Whitney is on the right track. Also this season 100% indicated that her relationship with her mom is much better than it used to be and I thought the moment they shared was really sweet (when her mom tried to get her the internship) I've seen people say Whitney had a terrible arc in season 1, and her grooming by Dalton served no purpose, but honestly I think they missed the point (which again, this post is complaining about people with no media literacy) Whitney not confiding in her mom about Dalton acted as a catalyst for relationship growth with her mother, and I'm sure it will come up in future seasons.

4.) Kimberly's story arc:

Oh, boy. I think I am going to make a whole separate post for the relationship of Kimberly and Canaan and how (to me) they make perfect sense together and the show has been building to since their first interaction. But I want to speak on Kimberly's egg donation storyline and betrayal (which I think is a strong word) of Whitney. A lot of complaints I've seen about the egg donation storyline is that it was just dropped. I agree with how it was strange that it was dropped, but upon future reflection, if this show is about all the four years of college, I'm sure the repercussions of the egg donation and Kimberly's revelation of the loss of her scholarship will come up in future seasons, which makes the most sense (because how can Kimberly deal with her donated eggs and the possibility they are being used to make babies if she JUST gave them. And I don't want her to have a medical issue right after, she had already been through so much!)

As for her betrayal of Whitney, well.... I have a controversial opinion about that. Whitney has every right to feel hurt and upset about seeing Kimberly kiss Canaan. HOWEVER, if my rough calculations are correct, Canaan and Whitney only dated for a month to a month and a half, 5-6 months ago. They were only official for a few days (though you can make the argument that Whitney thought they were serious for longer) Whitney showed no indication to her roommates (and even Willow when they were together at the last Theta party of the year) that she wanted to be with Canaan again, so Kimberly didn't know it was going to hurt Whitney as much as she did. As for "Whitney gave Kimberly the option to confess" I don't necessarily think a roommate breakfast was necessarily the best forum for Kimberly to deliver that news, and Kimberly KNEW that because she opened her mouth, saw how hurt Whitney was, and changed her answer. I ABSOLUTELY think that Kimberly should have spoken to Whitney about liking Canaan before kissing him and should have told her privately about it, but honestly, I know that most viewers at the ages of 18-19 would 100% be stunned at how to navigate the situation if they were in Kimberly's place as well. Again, these girls are still learning how to communicate with other people and honestly they 100% act more maturely than most people I knew in college so stop being so freaking harsh on them, JESUS! Also, they were setting up a Whitney x Canaan x Kimberly "love triangle" (because I think the feelings are unfortunately unrequited on Whitney's side from Canaan) from THE FIRST EPISODE. This tension between them was ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN because Canaan (at least in my eyes) was introduced as a love interest for Kimberly in the sense that their first meeting was a funny story that will be one to reminisce and Whitney hooked up with Canaan also in the first episode. Also this isn't a situation of "two girls fighting over a guy" this is more the situation of "my close friend didn't confide me or come to me first about an issue that affects me and that betrayal hurts me deeply and I don't think I can bare to live with it" which I feel is incredibly relevant and relatable. I heard a podcast that said Whitney is not so much hurt by Canaan liking another woman, but that Kimberly wasn't completely transparent with Whitney, which also occurred with Leighton and Nico in s1 and is VERY consistent with Kimberly's character. I have no doubt they will work it out and it'll make their friendship stronger. Whitney's hurt hurts ME (Jesus Alyah Chantelle Scott is amazing) but I know they'll get through it.

TL;DR: They're young, they're stupid, they're 18-19, and a friendship breakup/going through rough patches in a friendship and particularly a large friend group in college is so, so NORMAL. Have some grace for these wonderful young women and their messy journeys. If you actually examine the show and characters holistically s2, while not as good as s1, makes a LOT of sense. Also why is no one talking about how we got so much Lila this season and it was glorious?? She's a gift to this world.

Tagging @thefabulousfab-3 @basiltonpitch

[faux-ee]

So What if BSD Fyodor is Dead

Guys. I finished Stormbringer last night (finally) and had an epiphany. If Rimbaud can survive in the form of a singularity ghost in his ability space, and if Shibusawa's ability could trick him into thinking that he's still alive, why couldn't it be possible that all the mysteries around Fyodor (his height, his age, the nature of his ability, etc.) are because he's already dead?

Fyodor's weakness is that he has a weak composition, now I think the anemia is actually indicative of death. A lack of blood.

A friend of mine noticed that throughout the manga, Fyodor has been referring to himself as "Boku," which is not really proper for a grown man as it is more for young boys (boku no hero academia, for example). He should be calling himself "Watashi" if he's older than 15, and since Kyouka is 14, Fyodor definitely looks older than 15. Shibusawa also said Dostoevsky's "an old friend". Dazai met him once when he was younger. It's weird Fyodor insists on addressing himself like a teenage boy, unless he never aged mentally past that stage.

A lot of his talking in riddles could also be attributed to teenage behavior: from arbitrary statements like "breathing is sin, thinking is sin," to "this is fun" and "marvelous (素晴らしい)" which he repeated time and time again, lowkey reminding me of those ghosts repeatedly doing the old habits they had when they were alive.

Gogol brought Sigma to Meursault bcs one must know Fyodor's ability to kill him. Which means he isn't expecting the poison to kill Fyodor at all, or he had full confidence in Fyodor winning. Either way, if he truly wants to kill Fyodor himself, it's not very likely he'll simply just let the poison kill Fyodor. The latter is already weak bodily, so it doesn't make sense that he'll be immune to poison - who can't poison kill? Either ppl who have an antidote (which neither of fyodor & dazai has), or ppl who are already dead.

Also, Gogol's statement provides an important conclusion: Fyodor can't be killed any other way than knowing his ability. Fyodor's life will only truly come to an end after the mystery around his ability is unravelled. What if he, like Shibusawa, is a singularity who refused to be dead? When he said living is a sin, he didn't see himself as a sinner. Perhaps he really wasn't entitled to the sin called life.

So, if he's dead, why is Fyodor still seems to be alive and walking? I have two theories.

One, Fyodor's also a lab product, and like Chuuya, also has a clone. This could offer additional explanation as to why he was able to control Chuuya, as he would then have as deep knowledge of this kind of experiments as N.

Fyodor said, "I am crime, I am punishment." It means he only defines himself through his ability. Now this could be a result of trauma but also - I feel like every time Fyodor makes claims about his own ideal, it's kinda stiff. One sec he's saying that he hears the words of god, and the next he's saying "if god doesn't exist, then I am god". It feels very much like two different personalities: a servant and a master; and they coexist in him.

His clone, instead of dying, could have merged with him and provided young Fyodor's consciousness a physical form. The "god" is Fyodor's true self commanding everything behind the scenes, and since he's no longer corporeal, he could move in and out of prison and that could be an effective way of transferring info.

(After all, irl Dostoevsky wrote a novel The Double exploring a man's psychological breakdown and identity disorder, which is "the most Gogolesque of Dostoevsky's works" and explores how the pursuit of freedom turns into self-destructive tendency. I'm guessing Asagiri probably had decent knowledge about that book based on this.)

Two, Fyodor and Nikolai are set up to be foils/partners, and BSD partners' abilities/identities are sometimes indicative of each other. Rimbaud and Verlaine trading names, Chuuya being the "non-human" to Dazai's "tainted sorrow," Atsushi facing the Rashoumon dilemma upon his first appearance. Gogol was committing crimes and punishing himself with guilt. Fyodor, like Nikolai, is always wrapped in what we think is a cape - but it has buttons and perhaps should be worn another way, like an overcoat. What if Fyodor's ability protected his body like an overcoat? What if his very being is an overcoat - a fixed role assigned to him by society that he could not escape from, a savior, a man-god?

This might sound too abstract but the basic idea is that Fyodor's more an Ability created to serve a specific purpose than a living human being.

I'm afraid I have to end the meta here because I simply can't find more clues, but this theory strangely sit right with me. Thank you for reading to here.