#not me because i think people just hear how tired i sound and don't try it

[iguessitsjustme]

work rant feel free to ignore i just need to get this out of my brain before i esplode:

My job not having any social media presence actually drives me insane...I'm going to try to rant without giving away where I work but my god. I work for an extremely well known (at least in the USA) organization and there's a lot of misinformation flying around out there and we do have a website, but just a website. That no one goes to or looks at unless they call and we direct them to exactly what they're looking for because they ask if we have it written down anywhere.

And I think it's incredibly...obtuse...to not have any presence at all. I'm not saying we need to have an extremely loud and huge presence. But even just like an official reddit or an official tiktok (we do have a twitter kind of but it is never used and I honest to god don't think anyone has access to it anymore) and even if those pages just have the most basic information on it, I think that would help. Just like "here's a link to our website. Here's our phone number. Here's which department handles what if you want to be asked for that specific department." I spend so much of my day on the phone with people that have questions that are so easily answered by just going on our website but no one does. Also don't even get me started on what they did to the website it looks like it got hacked now but it didn't.

This is a strange work rant for a Sunday night but I find myself annoyed. My coworkers and I send each other reddit posts of people misunderstanding things. I mean, they are willfully misunderstanding things they were previously informed of. In writing. But if we really want to make it better and more accessible for people, I think having the information presented in multiple ways would be best. Especially when we're dealing with children. These kids are on reddit and on tiktok and on twitter and they have questions and they are more likely going to go searching in those places to find information. And there are people that claim themselves as experts on all of those platforms but none of them work for or have previously worked for my organization. So they don't know. So these kids are getting incorrect information and then I get angry parents and children on the phone because they listened to the wrong person or organization and I'm standing by our policy and our rules and they don't like that.

Also sometimes they aren't angry on the phone because they were misinformed about something saying that they can't do this this or that and it turns out they can. And if they hadn't called they would have entirely missed the opportunity because they're going to the wrong sources because we, as an organization, refuse to be the source on a different platform other than our own.

And I get it. They don't want to hire someone to be the social media person because we are small and don't have the budget for that. But it's 2024. There are many people. Many staff. That have a lot of downtime (not my department unless it's the summer) and this could be the perfect task to give them. Even if it's just coming up with ideas to present. Not even necessarily filming anything. And videos don't need to show anyone's face or voice. We could literally do the most basic shit and it would be beneficial. It would count down on the number of calls we get and my coworkers and I would have time to do our jobs instead of spending half our time on the phone (do not ask how behind we are because it is sad).

There's something else I want to say about a different organization that I think this would help with but I cannot say without giving away where I work and also I can't bitch about our partner without causing problems. But if you live in the USA, you know about our partner, and I guarantee you hate them. But not as much as me. Never as much as me.

[lyneira]

♡ "carry me pls" ♡

-> how would the the genshin men prefer to carry you?

(A bit on the crack side and slightly suggestive, hehe)

Bridal style

KAVEH, Zhongli, Ayato, Xiao, Dainsleif

It's simple, yet refined and romantic. Plus, they enjoy being able to see your cute face and all of its expressions while holding you. They could easily lean their forehead against yours and kiss you like this.

On their shoulders

ITTO, Venti, Gorou, Childe

For those who like this position, they either want to prove their strength, want you to be their lookout, or they just want to have fun with you!

Okay okay, hear me out on Venti and Gorou. I know they're rather smol in comparison to the others, but I think they'd like carrying you like this primarily because it's a fun position and also because they don't want to be underestimated. Venti would totally try to persuade you to wear a sheet over you both so that you could pretend to be a ghost or monster to scare people ehe 👻

Itto and Childe would have you on their shoulders so not only would they prove how strong they are, they could have you as their lookout, watching for any dangers up ahead or cool sights that you see. (Also, their head in between your thighs would be heaven for them 😏)

Piggyback

DILUC, Alhaitham, Scaramouche, Cyno, Albedo, Tighnari

They like this because it's the most efficient way to carry you. You're not blocking their view, he's holding you tight, you're holding onto him tight, he can easily run if needed without you being in the way.

The only "downside" that they'd see to this would be how you can easily tease them in this position. You might tease them by whispering softly into their ear, or leaving a peck on their cheek while you're at it 🤭

Carries you in front of them

THOMA, Heizou, Kaeya, Kazuha

I don't know how else to explain this position but think of the opposite of a piggyback ride (so a piggy-front ride? 🥴 sounds silly), or like a parent carrying their sleeping child.

They feel like this is the ultimate hug as you're wrapping BOTH your arms and legs around them. Lowkey treats you like their baby, patting your back with one hand to soothe you. They'd enjoy the intimacy of the position and would find the way you were clinging to them absolutely adorable.

Bonus:

Over their shoulder

Alhaitham, Itto, Diluc, Cyno, Childe

Be ready to become a sack of potatoes if you're misbehaving. This category is reserved for those who are tired of your squirming or teasing so they'd simply throw you over their shoulder.

Kick and whine all you want, they're not going to carry you any other way for your actions. They might also teasingly slap your booty if you don't quit whining.

Other than that scenario, if you guys were being chased, he'd see this as the quickest way to carry you. He'll grab you and go, like a fast-food order LOL

a/n: gahh I honestly had a hard time categorizing them. I feel like many of them could be applied to multiple categories

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Effects of the Curse.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader

Summary: After receiving some outside comments, the topic of marriage comes up. Unfortunately, you and Aaron have different views on the matter.

Words: 2,7k.

Warnings & Tags: mention to marriage, divorce, jack and haley. angst WITHOUT happy ending. established relationship. about a year after hotch's departure from the fbi. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: As a person who wants to get married, this is pretty personal lol.

You were leaning against one of the kitchen counters as you waited for the water you had put in the kettle to heat up and allow you to brew coffee. Behind you, you could hear your boyfriend rummaging through the cupboard for your favorite mug and carefully placing it next to his, going through the same routine the two of you had already established.

But something was feeling different this time.

It had more to do with your memories of the family dinner you'd gone to the day before, where there hadn't been a single person who hadn't asked when you were going to officially become Mrs. Hotchner, when you were going to take that big step down the aisle, and maybe even expand the family beyond that. It was a little silly for you to think so much about it, because those were the typical comments people made when they saw a functioning couple, and it had happened to you before with ex-boyfriends you took home, but this time it felt more serious.

Maybe it was because of how your heart was racing as you imagined wearing a ring that would show your total commitment to love someone to death, or maybe it was how Aaron reacted, or rather his lack of reaction, and how much that bothered you.

The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window and filtering through the trees in the yard had you so mesmerized at that moment that you barely felt when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you let out a slight sound of surprise and relaxed a little under his touch.

“What is on your mind? Perhaps the new coffee maker we should definitely consider purchasing?” He asked with a cheerful tone.

Yes, you two definitely had to buy a new one after the old one suddenly stopped working. But that wasn't what you were thinking about. You were a long way from that.

“Sure, we should do that.” Your answer was blurted out almost out of obligation and came out robotically.

He wasn't stupid, nor had he lost the habits of a profiler after so many years as one. He knew you well enough to know that something was troubling you, even if he didn't know exactly why. He pulled you a little closer and planted a small kiss on the top of your head, tightening his grip on your waist a little more to comfort you as he spoke.

“Darling.” He murmured softly, wanting you to give him your full attention. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head, what's wrong with you?”

You, were what you wanted to say.

“Nothing, just...it's been a long day.” That was all that came out of your mouth.

To tell the truth, it had been an exhausting day, and at least you hadn't lied that much. You had been very restless, trying to do many things to keep the destructive thoughts out of your mind, and it had made you quite tired.

“Don't try to fool me. I know you well enough to know when you are lying.” He gently pinched the sides of your waist and turned you to look into his eyes.

“I...I was just thinking about some things my family said yesterday.” You finally confessed, your voice a little shaky, as if telling him would embarrass you.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brow in concern, brushing a hand against your cheek in that way that always made you feel a bit weak in the knees.

His touch was so warm and loving against your skin, and for a moment, it almost made you forget what you were thinking about. Almost.

“Just a few things about how I haven't married you yet, and...” You didn't even want to finish the sentence, feeling your heart beat a little faster as the words got stuck in your throat. “That we don't have, you know, kids.”

Aaron took a quick look at your face as he heard your confession. His heart clenched a little as he realized what you were talking about, and he couldn't help but be curious about it. The topic of marriage and having children hadn't come up much since you started dating because he already had Jack and had been married once. It was a goal he'd already achieved. However, he knew it was a topic that needed to be discussed, as he saw your worried expression and slightly trembling voice.

He put his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle massage to relieve the tension. He didn't want to seem careless or unconcerned, so he spoke after pausing.

“And you were worried because...?”

He looked at you with a kind of intense gaze that made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. As he massaged your shoulders, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Well, from the way you reacted, I guess.” You admitted, your voice full of doubt. “I mean, I know we haven't really talked about it, but...it's hard to know what you're thinking when the subject comes up and you have that cold expression on your face, like it's nothing relevant.”

His expression softened, and he brought his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks to make sure you were looking directly at him.

“You know very well that I have already taken care of that.” He said softly, trying to find the best words. “Marriage, children...I had that. I have Jack. And he's enough for me.”

Enough for him. Were you too?

His words had a surprising effect on you, leaving you with a somewhat bitter taste in your mouth. Despite this, you maintained a calm exterior, striving to conceal your true feelings.

“And what about what's enough for me?” You inquired, addressing the issue with a candor you had previously avoided. The words emerged from your mouth almost involuntarily.

Hotchner was taken aback by your question. The way you asked it gave the impression that you were accusing him, although he was unsure if this was the intention. He took a deep breath, searching for the most tactful way to respond to your words.

“I...I didn't realize.” He began, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “You never mentioned that you wanted to get married or have children. I thought you were happy with our current situation.”

“Not really.” You admitted, avoiding eye contact as you looked down at the floor. “I mean, I really love Jack, he's a wonderful boy.”

Aaron listened intently as you continued, your words coming out hesitantly.

“And being with you...it makes me so happy.” You sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “But…I feel like I need more. I want more, and I'm not necessarily talking about a child. I want to know that you belong to me as much as I belong to you.”

Aaron walked over and stood in front of you, placing his hands on your hips. He stared at you as he spoke, his voice soft but firm.

“Darling, my love...I belong to you, and you belong to me, and you don't need a ring to know that. If you want one, I'll buy it for you, that or whatever you want.”

You let out a small sigh and leaned closer to him, resting your head on his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart as he held you tightly and his body enveloped you in a warm embrace.

“I know.” You said quietly, the words somewhat muffled against his shirt. “But it's not just about the ring. It's about the commitment, the symbol of our union...and how that gives me security.”

He ran his fingers through your hair gently as he listened, his touch soothing against your scalp.

“Listen to me.” He began, his tone affectionate. “I've always been committed to you. From the moment I allowed myself to open up to you to the first night we spent together, and every day since. You know it. Does it really take a ceremony to make you believe it?”

When you looked at him, you felt a rush of emotions. You knew he loved you, and he was right. He had shown you his commitment many times. You had even been living together for a couple of years. But there was still a part of you that longed for that tangible symbol of love.

“I don't doubt you.” You said, choosing your words carefully. “But it's about symbolism. Having physical proof of our commitment shows the world how firmly bound we are to each other. And I know you believe in it. You were married once for a reason.”

Oh, that's a sensitive topic.

He let out a small sigh when you mentioned his previous marriage, and his fingers stopped stroking your hair. It was an uncomfortable and painful subject he didn't like to talk about, especially with you. The memories of his failed marriage were difficult to process, not only because of Haley's death but also because of the many problems that had plagued their relationship before its sad end.

“Maybe I believed that before, or at least I thought I did.” He replied after a short pause. “But that doesn't mean I want to go through it all again.”

“Even with me?” You asked softly, lifting your head to look into his eyes. There was a hint of vulnerability and sadness in your expression, your heart trembling slightly in anticipation of his answer. “Even in the future?”

Aaron observed your expression and the slight shift in your demeanor. He was aware of the impact his words could have on you, and he took care to choose them carefully. He gently traced your features with the back of his hand, his thumb gently moving across your face.

“This isn't about you or time at all.” He said in a soft voice, trying to express his love for you. “I just couldn't go through that again. The expectations, the disappointment, the divorce. It's too much.”

As he spoke, he paused and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain his emotions. His previous marriage had left him deeply scarred, and the thought of suffering the same fate again, especially with you, filled him with dread. He silently prayed every day that history would never repeat itself.

But your situation was quite different. The concerns he expressed, which he did not fully explain, only served to increase your doubts. You were aware that Aaron had every reason to be fearful after experiencing so much in the past, but you were surprised that he seemed to be afraid to be with you in front of the law.

How could he be so sure that a marriage with you would end in divorce? If his demanding job could no longer be the cause of the failure, could it perhaps be something else? Could it be you?

“You're not the same as before, and I'm not-” You started to say when you were interrupted by a loud whistle.

The unexpected sound of the kettle whistling gently interrupts the moment between the two, if only for a brief moment, allowing you both to take a breath.

He carefully put out the fire and poured the steaming water into the cups he had thoughtfully prepared earlier. He then added a teaspoon of sugar to each and a little milk to yours, taking care to ensure it was just the way you liked it. As you both watched the hot liquid swirl in the cups, he let out a sigh. Aaron felt a sense of responsibility, knowing he wasn't able to deliver what you desired.

Hotchner handed you your cup with care, ensuring that he did not accidentally burn himself in the process. The kitchen fell silent as he stood next to you while you both sipped your coffee, lost in your own thoughts.

The taste of coffee with a little milk on your tongue distracted you from the heavy atmosphere that had settled between you and him in the kitchen. In that moment, you took the opportunity to watch him closely and try to decipher what he was thinking. Maybe use a little of what you had learned from being with a profiler for so long.

His face was set, and you could easily see the emotion in his eyes. He was not happy with the conversation, and his expression had given him away from the first crossword on the subject.

When Aaron noticed you staring at him in the midst of his silence, he looked up into your eyes and held them for a few seconds. He knew exactly what you were trying to do, but it didn't bother him. Being a profiler, he found it ironic, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

“You can look at me all you want.” He said with a dry laugh. “And try to profile me if you want.”

“It's not that...” You began to say, but you knew he was right. That was precisely what you were attempting to do, trying to discern his feelings, even utilizing some profiling techniques he had taught you himself. You let out a small sigh, feeling a little foolish for your lack of subtlety.

Of course he'd realize. The man could leave the FBI, but the FBI couldn't leave the man.

“I find it challenging not to.” You confessed, tilting your head and taking a sip of your coffee. “I've picked up on some of your habits, I suppose.”

He let out a soft chuckle, acknowledging that you were trying to get a read on him and feeling relieved to see the earlier tension ease. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a small sip, letting the hot liquid warm his insides before speaking in a friendly tone.

“And what have I taught you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“A few things.” You replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “Like how to spot lies, read body language, and how to read people well. Basically, all the skills required to be a profiler, except how to not profile your loved one.”

“I see your point.” He replied, a soft smile on his face, grateful that things between you were feeling good again. “Perhaps I should have taught you that last part too, but you would have made a good profiler.”

“I would have made a good wife too.” The comment came out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately covered your mouth with your fingers after saying it.

Aaron's smile faded as soon as you spoke, and the tension in the room intensified. He exhaled, a combination of fatigue and frustration, and placed the half-finished coffee on the counter behind you before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I'm sorry.” You spoke up before he could even open his mouth, hoping to get a word in first.

“Don't.” His answer came almost automatically.

It was then that you grabbed your cell phone after hearing it vibrate, hoping to avoid the situation. “It's the seamstress. Jack's costume is ready.”

He nodded silently as you picked up the cell phone from the kitchen table. The comment was still in the air, and you sensed that he had heard it, but he didn't react at all. Instead, he seemed relieved that the awkward moment between the two was over, if only temporarily.

Thank you, Halloween.

After a brief pause, Aaron inquired gently. “Would you like me to accompany you to collect it?”

“I believe it would be best if I went alone.” You replied after a moment. “I need to take some time to process things, and you need to wait for your son. He will be out of school soon.”

Aaron felt a slight discomfort in his chest at your words. He recognized the truth in what you said, that some time apart might be beneficial for both of you to reflect on the conversation and all that was left unsaid.

And after that, you proceeded to retrieve your keys and walked through the door without so much as a moment's hesitation. This time, there wasn't even an ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss as a reminder that all was well. This time, the silence conveyed a message that was perhaps more profound than any gesture or sweet word.

In the end, the marriage was scarier than any Halloween costume.

[inkskinned]

there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo

and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".

it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.

and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.

there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society

at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this

and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".

hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.

the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy

and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.

and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 3 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain.

wc: 1.4k

notes: part three out in less than 24hrs?!? who would've thought

previous chapters: part 1 | part 2

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

Your heartbeat started to pick up, but you weren't sure why. Topper didn't say it was anything bad, but you knew realistically he wouldn't be texting you unless it was.

You: hey Top, what's going on?

Topper: are you busy? can I swing by?

You: i'm on the mainland right now, can you tell me over text? i'm worried

Topper: yeah... so I don't know if you know but Rafe went to Kelce's party a couple days ago.

You: yeah I know

The sinking feeling in your chest lifts a little. You figured Topper was going to tell you Rafe had been doing coke since he knew Rafe was supposed to quit.

Topper: while he was there he started doing lines off the table. then a little later he started making out with Sofia. i'm not sure how far it went

You stared at the message for what felt like forever. Then a video pops up in the chat, so you click play.

There are some random people doing lines, but then in the back corner, you can see Rafe and his ex-girlfriend Sofia practically trying to eat each other's faces. You couldn't seem to find the energy to be sad about it. You felt almost indifferent but shocked at the same time.

You: thanks for letting me know Top

Topper: of course and just know you don't deserve that.

You click out of your messages and before you can think twice, your phone is ringing, waiting for your call to be picked up.

"Hello?" Rafe's voice came in through the speakers. He sounded tired but not like he had been asleep.

"Rafe. I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth." 

"Okay... what is it?"

There was silence as you took a deep breath. Your voice was smooth and calm as you asked, "Did you cheat on me?"

You heard shuffling on the other end of the line. "What?"

"Did you cheat on me, Rafe?"

"No, I didn't cheat on you. What is going on?" He sounded baffled by your question.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Rafe! I saw the video," You tried to keep your voice low since your parents were probably asleep.

"Baby what are you talking about I'm not lying! I didn't cheat on you. You know what, I'm coming to the mainland. I'll be over there soon." 

He ended the call before you could tell him not to bother. The last thing you wanted to see was his stupid face, knowing his lips were all over Sofia's, and God knows what else they did. 

At the beginning of your relationship you were really insecure because of his history with Sofia but Rafe always assured you that he wasn’t interested in her anymore. You laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the video played over and over in your head. All you could wonder was what made your relationship with Rafe go left so quickly. You felt like crying and punching Rafe all at once. He made you feel so much at one time it could be so overwhelming.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Your phone chimed a while later with a text from Rafe saying 'I'm here. Please let me in so we can talk.’

With a sigh you begrudgingly made your way downstairs and to the front door. When you opened it Rafe was standing there with a tired yet worried look on his face.

"Can I please-"

You put a finger up to your lips. "Shh. You'll wake up my parents." You let him inside and signaled him to follow you into your room. Before you can close the door fully, Rafe starts asking questions. "Why do you think I cheated on you? What video are you talking about?"

"Rafe, I saw a video of you sucking face with Sofia at Kelce's party. Did you fuck her too? Is that why you didn't text me all day?"

Rafe was looking at you like you'd grown two heads. "I am so fucking lost right now. I don't even think I saw Sofia at the party!"

You pull up the video and show it to Rafe. He watches it a few times before sitting on your bed with a sigh, dragging his hands over his face. You watch him with your arms crossed, waiting to see what he'll say. Rafe then pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling something up.

"Look, this is a picture taken the day of the party." He shows you a random photo that was taken of him and Kelce, also displaying the date on it.

"So what?"

Rafe grabs your phone going back to the video and zooming in on the spot where he is seen kissing Sofia. "My outfit isn't the same in the video. It's an old video from when we were together."

Looking at both the phones you realize that he's right. "Oh... well why would Topper send me this if it's old?" You question out loud

"Wait a minute, Topper sent you this?"

"Yeah he texted me earlier saying we needed to talk but I told him I was on the mainland." You show Rafe the texts from Topper and he's seething.

"I could kill that son of bitch!" He shouted, and you had to cover his mouth, reminding him your parents were asleep. You sat on the bed looking at him, now you were the one who was confused so you decided to flat-out ask him what was going on.

"When you weren't talking to me I had told Kelce and Topper what was going on and he was the one who convinced me you didn't wanna be with me anymore. You were ignoring my calls and everything so he said I should just forget about you and not make things worse." Suddenly Rafe was on his knees with his hands on your hips.

"Baby listen, I know that I can be a major fuck up sometimes and that I don't have the best way of dealing with stress and everything but I would never cheat on you. I'm sorry about y'know, the coke and your birthday and everything else that I've ever done wrong, but I hope you realize that I love you so fucking much. You mean the world to me, and I don't wanna lose you." You stared at him with wide eyes as tears started to fall down his cheeks and brought up your hand to gently wipe them away. "So if you still want space, I'll give it to you. But I know I'm ready to change and make everything up to you."

You leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. You definitely weren't expecting him to pour everything out like that. "I love you too, and I don't want you to think I'm ever judging you or being a hardass. I just worry about you. If something ever happened to you..." you sighed, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"I promise not to make you worry." Rafe stood up and kissed you hard while cradling your face. He tried to leave to give you space, but you insisted he'd stay and said you'd head back to the OBX tomorrow. Rafe wanted to talk to Topper in person, which you didn't see going well, but you'd worry about it tomorrow.

You gave him plenty of blankets and pillows since he didn't want to take up so much space in your twin bed and chose to sleep on the floor. Once you'd gotten under your blankets, sleep whisked you away. 

Rafe, on the other hand, could barely get his mind to calm down. He was fucking enraged with Topper for trying to pull some bullshit like that. Rafe should've known he was a snake. He noticed the way Topper's eyes would linger on you or how his hugs went on for a little too long. But Rafe didn't think Topper was stupid enough to try and break you two up.

Now that he had finally cleared everything up with you, he wasn't worried. Rafe was going to take care of Topper as soon as he got back to OBX. He'll make sure to get the point across that nobody fucks with his girl and his relationship.

part 4

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[fanged-fanfics]

Slides in with a very polite request of Dr Phosphorus/ Alex Tudyk x GN!Reader pretty please (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Story can be however you like heh.. 𝓘’𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂

☆ Melting Sounds Much Sweeter Than Burning — Dr. Phosphorus x GN Reader Fic☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || Warning for canon-typical violence + a lot of swearing

A/N: I don't think it came across clear in the writing but this is pre-canon for context-

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You were one of the humanoids caged up with the rest of the Commandos, locked up for your own big name crimes. There wasn't much the prison guards ever really let you do, and for quite a while you kept to yourself to try and avoid trouble. Sure, it was mundane to follow the guard's routines, but it kept you from getting shoved into solitary confinement or extra charges. But, in a flurry of green flames, trouble ended up quite literally landing in your lap during a mealtime brawl, and you found yourself fighting mutant assholess off of a radioactive green guy who was backing you up hit for hit.

From that day on, you couldn't seem to get rid of Dr. Phosphorus. You kept being in the same vicinity, or gravitating to each other subconsciously. Even if you tried to pick up conversations with someone else, he'd likely be the one to help you walk back to your cell. It was one of the better things to come from your time here. Phosphorus was one of the smarter criminals you interacted with on an average basis. He could at least hold a conversation without trying to gnaw his own leg off halfway through it like some other inmate (his name was apparently Weasel, but you didn't find that out till much later).

Unfortunately, despite your initial approach of being under the radar, Phosphorus was prone to trouble. You'd seen him melt a whole table enough to punch it in half, burn through walls, or sucker-punch people who pissed him off with a fist hot enough to literally kill them on impact. Suffice to say, you usually didn't offer him a handshake or give any pats on the back, for obvious reasons. Even though it was amusing to see him get himself out of alterations, you got into the habit of standing up to others by proxy.

Today, you'd gotten into a brawl. Not because of the great green doc, moreso of your own volition. You didn't get to see how it ended— swelling around one eye and dirt in the next prevented it. But due to the shouts you'd heard, it was easy to conclude the wardens broke it up. You were finally released back into your cell, seeing the familiar irradiated skeleton waiting for your arrival. The second the steps of the warden couldn't be heard, he walked up in front of you.

"The nurses didn't do a damn thing, did they?" He asked upon seeing your visible bruises and scrapes. You heaved a tired sigh as you sat on the edge of your stiff mattress "Hello to you too, Doc" you muttered. "Hey, I wasn't the one who jumped that guy" Phosphorus reminded, walking past the front of your vision "You had a hell of a stick up your ass today". "You heard him, he deserved every bit of it" you replied. Phosphorus kneeled down in front of you while saying, "Well all I see is you're the one with a fucked-up mug". You grumbled, keeping your gaze off to the side. He was right, of course, he usually was, it was just exceedingly annoying. He could never not be smug about it, even when he insisted he wasn't smiling.

"Guess you rubbed off on me" you commented back. "Better than you getting radiation poisoning like most around me do" Phosphorus countered lightly, reaching his hand up. You leaned back, scooting to the very back of your mattress as quick as possible. Phosphorus quickly retracted his hand "Still stings?". "No, dumbass, you're gonna melt my face off!" You said with pressing worry, almost in a yelp. For a brief moment of pause, silence and the soft hum of radiation was all you could hear before Phosphorus broke out in a loud laugh. It was always a little strange, watching his bony mouth open, blank eye sockets making the expression vacant even though he sounds happy. Speaking of, what the hell was there to laugh about-

"Ah, you may be smart, but you're sure as hell not observant" Phosphorus said, casually leaning his arm on your bedsheets "See?". You slowly leaned forwards, brow creasing in confusion "But- I've seen you- how the hell-" you stammered. He chuckled again, leaning his head into his palm "I can control when it burns anything. Right now, you're just fine. I don't plan to set another cell on fire". "Another?" You echoed, and he shrugged "There's a reason I got moved to being your cellmate. Now come on, you're just gonna look more fucked up if you don't let me see" he said.

You hesitated for just a second. There was a brief flicker of a thought that he could just be messing with you, but you pushed that aside. He didn't have reason to suddenly turn you into a walking molotov cocktail, right? And it's not like you ever did much to piss him off, intentionally anyways. You scooted up, and he leaned back to allow you the room. With a gentle hand, he touched your swollen black eye. You winced back at first, but thankfully his hand only felt warm rather than scalding. You sat up a little straighter, letting him look you over. "Do you even know what you're doing?" You asked. He pressed two fingers under your jaw, moving your head a bit to see the damage better while he spoke "I know more than anyone here would, unless you think leeches are still good for sore throats"

You nodded, still feeling a little uncertain. Even with his surprisingly gentle guidance, you saw the man break way too much 'invincible' shit to just forget. His touch eventually became a gentle hold on your jaw, guiding it back down "Jeez, way to go, pal. You're gonna be feeling this one for a few days". You nodded quickly, and he fell quiet. He pulled back his hand, holding it up in front of you instead "See? You're fine! Not even a little melting" he said, attempting to be reassuring. You nodded, looking at the hand he was holding up. With faltering motions, you very gently pressed your fingertips together. It definitely felt warm, but still bearable. Your palm slowly pressed to his.

You couldn't see his face change any, but his tone was warm with encouragement. "Not so bad when you get used to it, huh?". "Nah" you mumbled in agreement, slowly interlocking your fingers with his "Not bad at all". Phosphorus tilted his head down a bit to look fully, only waiting a moment before gently rubbing your hand a bit with his thumb. It had been quite a while since anyone felt comfortable enough to let him near, much less this. Not since... well, he didn't like to think about it too much. You both glanced up together, empty sockets meeting your eyes. Not wanting to overstep, you slowly pulled your hand back.

"Aaaanyways-" you began awkwardly, trying to transition back into casual conversation "You sure this didn't give me mercury poisoning or something?". The doctor chuckled, standing up "Who knows, you might wanna get checked". You gave him a small, non-serious glare in reply, and he laughed a little louder. He pointed to his face "Sarcastic smile". You huffed a small, exasperatedly fond sigh. You reached under your pillow, pulling out a stowed away deck of cards. "Wanna play blackjack?" Phosphorus asked as you began shuffling. "Sure, if you don't burn them when you lose" you replied. "I'm not promising anything" he said, hopping up to sit across from you on your bed.

As you prepped the game, a thought came to mind. "Hey, did the guards drag off that other guy?" You asked "I heard a lot of commotion". "Oh yeah, you know how they are" Phosphorus said casually "Can't handle a little third degree". You halted your motions all at once, squinting suspiciously at the man across from you, who had the nerve to innocently ask, "Something the matter?". You shook your head, smiling as you handed him his cards "Nothing, doc. Thanks"

[writinginatree]

Kisses & Confessions

Relationship(s): Garrick Tavis/fem!Riorson!reader

Summary: Garrick accidentally steals your first kiss, which leads to some long overdue confessions.

Part 2

You wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. Though, really, waking up is an exaggeration. You're blinking at the pale sunlight streaming into the room through the half-open curtains, too sleepy to even sit up. Maybe you're lucky and whoever is at the door will go away if you don't answer.

"Y/N? You still in there?"

You groan. Guess they won't go away. And worse, you hear a click as the bothersome person uses lesser magic to unlock the door. It swings open, revealing — Garrick. You let your head drop back into the pillow and turn to face the wall, whining for him to let you sleep.

"If I do that you're going to miss breakfast," he answers.

You hear the sound of your door being closed again, followed by his footsteps coming toward your bed. Your stomach growls at the mention of breakfast, but you're so warm and comfy right now. If Garrick let you, you could fall right back asleep. Unfortunately, he seems to have no intention of that. The mattress dips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, and you clutch your covers tighter around you, sure he'll try to snatch them away any second.

But he doesn't — not yet, at least. For now, he just pokes you in the side. "Come on. I'm tired, too, but we have to act normal, or people will wonder what we were doing last night."

That gets you a little more awake. You'd been out smuggling weapons to the fliers the night before, and had almost gotten caught returning. Afterwards, you'd lain awake for hours, tossing and turning uselessly. You couldn't have been asleep for much more than an hour or so when Garrick woke you up.

"Xaden won't let you come on these trips anymore if you can't get up the next morning," he adds.

Turning on your back to face him, you rub the sleep from your eyes and explain, "It's not the trip. I just couldn't fall asleep afterwards."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Too many thoughts in my head, I guess. Srian got tired of it and blocked me out so she could go to sleep. I was gonna get up and do some last minute studying, but then I guess I fell asleep for a bit after all."

The last word stretches into a yawn, and Garrick gives you a sympathetic look. You wonder how you look to him right now. Does he think you're cute, all sleepy and soft like this? Or do your messy hair and the dark circles you doubtlessly have under your eyes make you look appalling to him? Not that it should matter. He's seen you in much worse states before — like that time when you were eight and you and Xaden both were down with the flu, or when you got depressed over your mother leaving. But you were kids then. It's different now, and things that never mattered before suddenly do.

"Five more minutes," you grumble. "I'll just skip breakfast."

Garrick laughs. "Alright, sleepyhead. I'll tell Chradh to tell Cuir to tell Bodhi to save you a pastry or something. But if you don't get up in the next ten minutes you'll be late for class."

"Mhh, thank you. Tell him I want something with chocolate, yeah?"

"Right, because he totally doesn't know that. You always want everything with chocolate, Y/N."

"Tell him anyway," you insist. "Just to be sure."

"Okay, okay," he laughs, and after a moment, "I've passed it on."

You close your eyes again for a moment, cautiously reaching out to your own dragon. Lazy thing that she is, Srian is still asleep herself, just like you expected. If only you could afford the same luxury.

"Is this your definition of getting up?" Garrick asks.

"You said I still have ten minutes before I'm late for class."

"Yeah, and I'm guessing you'll need every one of those minutes to get dressed and search that mess on your desk for everything you need for class."

Unfortunately, he's not wrong.

Sitting up, you only now realize just how close he is to you. The fact that you would be sitting on his lap if you moved just a little closer to him shouldn't make your heart race the way it does, but ever since you came to Basgiath a little over a year ago, you've been developing a crush on Garrick — a crush that only seems to get worse with time. You still don't know where it came from. You've known Garrick practically your whole life, and he's always been one of your closest friends, but until last year, your feelings for him were strictly platonic. Maybe it's just that you'd never thought about it before. But on your first day in the quadrant, when you'd seen him again for the first time in what felt like forever, he'd looked so undeniably hot in his new second-year uniform that you saw him in a completely new light. No longer just your brother's best friend, but a very hot and loveable guy. You'd thought it was just a temporary crush you would soon get over, but now that you're a second-year yourself, you're still hopelessly pining after him.

While you're distracted thinking about how close he is, he leans in even closer to kiss your cheek — only you turn your head to look at him better at the same moment, so instead his lips land right on yours. Your breath catches in your throat, and if you weren't awake before, you definitely are now. It's barely a second before he pulls back and apologizes, but that second might honestly have been the best of your life. You can't exactly tell him that, but you do tell him he doesn't have to apologize. You know very well that he only meant to kiss your cheek, like he's done hundreds of times before throughout all the years you've known each other.

And unlike you, he seems to be completely unaffected by your accidental kiss. No trembling, no quickened breathing, not even the hint of a blush. He's as cool as ever, and you kind of hate him for it.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this flustered," he chuckles. "You're almost acting as if you've never been kissed before."

"Well, I haven't!"

"Wait, seriously?"

The shock on his face is almost comical, and it takes all your willpower to bite back your grin so he won't think you're messing with him.

"Yeah, seriously."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

Now you do smile. "It's okay. There's no one I'd have rather given my first kiss to," you admit. It's true — it's certainly not for a lack of opportunities that you've never kissed anyone. You simply refuse to get involved with people who only want you for your last name, and ever since you joined the quadrant, you've only had eyes for Garrick, anyway.

"That wasn't a very good kiss, though. Barely even counts as one." He hesitates for a second, then adds, "I could give you a real one if you'd like."

Oh gods. Did he really just offer to kiss you again? For real this time? If this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

You nod — maybe a little too eagerly.

Garrick cups your cheek with one big hand, turning your head a little to get the perfect angle. "Close your eyes," he softly instructs, and then his lips are on yours again, only this time they stay there longer, moving against yours while you kiss back as best as you can.

You don't think about the consequences this might have for your friendship, of how awkward it might make things. All this time you've tried to ignore your feelings, because this is your brother's best friend, because you didn't want to make things weird, because you thought he doesn't see you like that anyway. And now here you are, chasing his lips when he pulls away after a few seconds.

"You liked that, huh?" Garrick teases.

"Maybe," you say, grinning even as all the blood rushes to your face. "But I think I might need another one to be sure."

Shit. You can't believe you actually said that. You're going too far, you're sure of that the moment the words are out.

"Is that so?" Garrick asks. He's still grinning too, but even so it makes you regret asking. You're making things awkward, gods damn it.

"I mean— you don't have to, obviously. If you don't want to—"

He cuts you off. "Shh, just come here."

Just like that, his mouth is on yours once more, and oh, you're definitely getting addicted. This is bad. But it feels so damn good, so right, even more so when his tongue parts your lips to explore the inside of your mouth. All logical thought leaves your head at that point, and if your mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, you would've blurted out your feelings for him then and there.

"I've wanted to do this for longer than you can imagine," Garrick surprises you by saying when you separate again, both a little out of breath.

"You did?"

Now he's the one looking like he regrets saying anything, and a tiny spark of hope blooms in your chest. Could it be? Could he really feel the same?

"Well— I mean... yeah," he says, unusually reluctant. And is that a blush spreading on his face? You think it is, and gods, if that doesn't make you want to kiss him some more.

"Well, I've thought about kissing you for quite some time, too, to be honest," you say.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

For a moment you sit in silence, both processing what the other just revealed. You want to say more, take the chance to tell him you like him, but at the same time you're scared you're reading too much into this. Just because he's been wanting to kiss you doesn't have to mean he has feelings for you too, does it? If he did, surely he would have said something. Though of course you haven't said anything, either. And you're still not sure you should. This could ruin your friendship.

But damn it, you're a rider, not a coward, so you take a deep breath and admit, "Actually, I've kind of had a crush on you for a while now."

You closely watch his reaction, whole body tense with anticipation. Please don't laugh, you pray. Whatever you do, don't laugh at me. On some level, you know that fear is completely unnecessary. Garrick isn't mean like that; if he doesn't feel the same, he'll let you down gently. But part of you still worries he'll find the thought of you crushing on him so ridiculous he won't be able to help laughing. After all, you're his best friend's little sister. Only a year younger, sure, but when you've grown up together, a year can mean a lot. But if that were all he sees you as, he wouldn't be wanting to kiss you, right?

Slowly, a smile spreads over his face, and no, it's not a mean or disbelieving one. It's soft and genuine and takes your breath away.

"I like you too. I just didn't say anything because... you know..."

"Xaden."

He nods. "Xaden. I was going to ask him for permission before asking you out, but I kept putting it off because I wasn't sure how he'd react."

"Well, I don't care what Xaden thinks." That's not entirely true. In fact, you care a lot what your brother thinks, which is one of the reasons you tried to ignore your crush on Garrick. But even if Xaden does have a problem with you being into his best friend — now that you know Garrick feels the same, you're not going to let that get in the way. "He'll just have to deal with it. Now stop worrying about my brother and kiss me again."

Garrick happily complies, and in the end, you're both late for class.

[cosmal]

✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

tequila makes me sleepy

summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.

content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader

Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.

He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.

"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."

"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"

"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."

Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.

He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.

He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.

"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"

Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.

Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.

The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.

The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.

Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.

"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.

"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.

"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.

You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.

"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.

He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."

"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.

You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.

"You cold?" he worries.

Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."

"You think?"

"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."

Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"

You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.

"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."

Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.

"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."

"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.

"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.

Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."

You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."

"It's true."

"They don't." He can hear your smile.

"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."

You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."

"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."

[hyunniesgirl]

Another Love | Part 5

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Warnings for this chapter: the tiniest bit of angst

Words count: ±5,600

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: I struggled so much with writer's block + personal life issues to write this part, I'm glad it's finally out. Next part will be the last one for another love.

The first thing you think after waking up is that it was all a dream. Of course it was, there's no way Jisung likes you in that way.

After ten minutes sitting on your bed, staring at the wall, you come to the conclusion that it couldn't have been a dream, it was too realistic.

Then, you come to accept that he was drunk, there's no other reasonable possibility and that makes perfectly sense for you, he didn't mean what he said because he was intoxicated.

So after taking your sweet time getting ready for class, trying to avoid Jisung, you go out to the kitchen planning to pretend that last night's events never happened.

You didn't expect to find your best friend, wide awake, preparing coffee. Han doesn't really like waking up too early in the morning so it comes as a surprise when he's perfectly awake. He glances at you, pouring a coffee into a mug and handing it to you after wishing you a good morning.

Jisung looks tired, huge eye bags under his eyes. It looks like he didn't sleep at all.

His eyes trail carefully, analyzing your complexion, trying to guess what's your mood after his confession.

“About last night…” He starts saying, seeing your eyes dart from the dark liquid to his face.

“Don't worry about it”, you try sounding relaxed. So he remembers it, that makes you nervous. “I guessed that you were drunk and didn't mean what you said”, you shrug.

Han frowns, tilting his head to the side while staring at you.

“I was not drunk”, he says, “I meant everything I said”, he clears his throat nervously, “and I know it's too late, I don't want things to get weird again”

You feel your face warming up, you didn't expect him to tell you this kind of thing so straightforwardly. But above all else, you're mad. Mad because you went through so much to get over him, just for him to come back months later saying he likes you back? You're not having it.

“Do you think it's okay to play with people's feelings?” You put the mug on the table, crossing your arms. “You didn't give me any hope, Jisung, not a glimpse. You told me you never saw me in that way and it was pretty clear to me that you would never like me in a romantic way. So why now?”

He gulps, trying to find an answer for a question he has been asking himself since he noticed his new found feelings for you.

“I thought it would be selfish of me to give you hope at that time. I really didn't see you in that way, I don't know what changed”, he bites his bottom lip, feeling like he's ruining everything again.

“And you're not being selfish now?” You scoff, your words feel like daggers being thrown at him.

“I don't want to be”, he tells you, frowning in confusion.

“I guess it's not always the thought that counts”, you say, grabbing your bag from the couch and walking out of the door, wishing you didn't have to come back.

You're angry with Jisung for even thinking about changing his mind, but more than anything else you're angry with yourself because you felt your heart waver for a moment.

It's not easy to hear that he loves you, you have waited to hear that for so long it actually doesn't seem to be real. Sometimes you just long for something you know will never come and Jisung's love was just that, something you thought could never be yours.

You don't even know how to process it, you are not even over your relationship with Jeongho yet, you don't even know if you still like Jisung in that way. You're just confused, you should be grieving the relationship you didn't get to have and not worrying about your feelings for your best friend again.

You're just tired of all this, you wish you could just have a normal friendship with Jisung and not this mess. But that's on you, you're the one that loved him first and confessed to him, so this is just you dealing with the consequences of your own actions.

Since the moment Jisung realized he's in love with you, he's been trying to understand why now? You didn't change at all, you're still the same kind and smart girl you have always been, so why did he only fall in love with you now? After everything you went through to get over him.

He didn't really plan to tell you about his feelings, he thought that maybe it would be for the best if he kept those to himself so you could move on completely. But the thought of letting you think you were doing something wrong just broke his heart, you shouldn't think you're in the wrong when he's clearly at fault.

“Well, it could have been worse”, Chan says, smiling sympathetically to Jisung while they work on a new track.

“Worse how? She hates me now”, Jisung whines.

“It's better that she hates you for telling the truth, than her thinking she was ruining your friendship” Chan shrugs, looking back at his laptop.

“How many times can someone ruin a friendship, though?” Changbin asks, with a finger in hid chin, thinking out loud. “Are you two trying to compete or something?”

Jisung stares at Changbin for a moment, taking a deep breath, he shouldn't yell at his friend.

“Do you think you'll be able to see her moving on while you like her?” Chan asks, biting his bottom lip. “It was not easy for y/n to see you dating different people, but she's very strong. What about you?”

“I- I don't know”, Jisung answers, fidgeting with his fingers, “I'd like to have another chance, but I know it's not possible. I just want her to be happy even if it's not with me”

“Then, that's what you should do”, Chan shrugs. “Y/N is going through a hard time right now, you should just support her until her heart is fully healed and maybe, just maybe, one day you'll get another opportunity”

Jisung nods, feeling his heart sinking. It's his time now to pin over an unrequited love.

“He what?” Hannah's voice comes out in a half scream, making the people around look at you two.

“You heard me”, you say, trying to hide yourself from the prying eyes.

“Well, he clearly has no tact”, Hannah points out. “So… hm… what did you tell him?”

“I told him that he shouldn't play with people feelings”

“But, how did you feel hearing his confession?” She asks, curiously.

“I don't know”, you sigh, “I swayed for a moment if that's what you want to know”, you play with the napkins on the table, trying not to look at Hannah because you know she's going to see right through you.

“Are you sure it was just for a moment?” She asks, looking at you sympathetically. You feel tears brimming through your eyes. “You still love him, don't you?” She asks even though she already knows your answer.

You nod, feeling a few tears running down your cheeks. It's been three days since Jisung confessed and all you could think about was him. You tried so hard to focus on other things, to think about how much he hurt you so many times, but everything just came down to how your heart couldn't stop beating so fast every time you remember him saying he's in love with you.

It's embarrassing to be crying in the middle of a restaurant, luckily it's night so the lack of lightning helps hide your red eyes.

“But I don't think I want to”, you tell Hannah, “I don't want to love him, not after all the effort I put to forget about these feelings”, you confess. Logically, you want to ignore all the reactions Jisung causes on you, you want to pretend you don't feel a single thing for him anymore.

“I don't think you'll be able to let go of these feelings if you keep being friends with him”, Hannah sighs, she really didn't want to be the person to tell you to end a 15 years long friendship, but if you really want to get over him, you're going to have to cut him off. “It was possible when he didn't like you back, but now there is this hope inside you and I just know that you'll keep holding on to it involuntarily”

“What should I do, then? Jisung is everything I ever know, I'm not sure if I'll be able to just end our friendship like that”

“Look, y/n. You have two options: end it now and move on, or you can consider accepting his feeling”, Hannah frowns, “I know it's hard, but I think it's something you have to take your time to think about”

You get back home, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. At least this whole situation took your mind out of Jeongho, you were able to go through another whole day without looking at your phone, waiting for him to contact you again. Maybe you're coming to terms with the fact that your relationship is really over.

As soon as you finish showering, you grab some ice cream from the fridge, put on some sad drama to play on TV and get cozy with a blanket on the sofa. Crying is all you wanted to do in these few weeks, having your heart broken twice in a year is no joke.

Half way through the movie you hear the sound of the door being opened. You have tears in your eyes because the story of the movie is just so sad, you didn't want Jisung to see you crying in the middle of the living room but it's inevitable.

He doesn't say anything though, walking slowly closer to you with a paper bag in his hands and pouring snacks all over the center table, opening a box of tissues and giving it to you.

“Oh, I watched this movie. It's pretty sad, right?” He asks, eyes locked on the screen.

“Yeah”, you say, whipping your tears.

Jisung gets comfortable on the sofa, crossing his arms and just stays there, watching the movie with you.

No words being said the whole time you were together, just your sniffs and the sounds from the movie being heard in the dark living room of your shared apartment. As if none of you had ever confessed being in love with one another.

Jisung thought maybe he should try and make things the same as they were before, he wants to give you the feeling of comfort you felt close to him before. Even if it hurts him, he'll try.

You fell asleep on the sofa, but woke up in your room, Jisung must have carried you there. When you finish getting ready for class, there's no one else at home and there's only a note on the table saying that Han will bring dinner later.

You thought he would bring up his confession again last night, but he just stayed with you, commenting on the movie the way you always do. It was… comfortable and you can't say you didn't like it.

You have a full schedule of tutoring today, you don't even know if you'll have time to breathe. So you take the first bus to school, stopping at the cafe to get some coffee for you and Hannah.

It's been a while since you saw Heeseung, other than seeing him in the cafe, he's taking the same class as you this semester so you eventually run into him and after a while it just stopped being awkward.

It's startling to think that you're almost graduating, it seems like it was only yesterday when you moved in with Jisung to attend university. You had so many plans, hoping that everything would go well and you'd end up dating your best friend and living your best life.

Things never go as we plan it, that's a good lesson you learned after all these years. In the end, you got Jisung to like you back, but do you still want him?

With all this turmoil of events, you almost forget that you and Jisung have to go back home to see your families, when finals start you won't have time and neither will Han with the group's new album coming out.

Things are weird between the two of you, not as normal as before you confessed but not as awful as when you were apart from each other. Even though Jisung is trying to act normal, like he never confessed to you, there's still this strange sensation that everything is out of place. Maybe it's just a matter of you two adapting to this new dynamic you have going on.

As always, your mom and Jisung's prepare so much food for you to eat and take home too. They keep glancing suspiciously at you two the whole dinner, whispering between each other like no one's noticing how they're behaving. So the next morning when you go out with yours and Jisung's dad to buy groceries, the two ladies atack your best friend with questions.

“Did you two fight?”, your mother asks.

“You two have been so weird since the last time you came to visit”, Jisung's mom completes, “but now you can't even look at each other”

“We didn't fight”, Jisung clears his throat, looking around, making his mom sigh.

“I can see right through you”, she scolds, “you should apologize to her and ask that she forgets what you did”

“It's not something I want her to forget”, he mumbles, sulking.

“What exactly did you do?” Your mom asks, frowning.

Jisung gulps, trying to spit those difficult words out of his mouth.

“I confessed that I'm in love with her”, he mumbles, waiting for them to scold him for that but their reaction was the opposite.

“What took you so long?” His mom sighs.

He looks at them curiously but proceeds to tell them the whole story since the moment you confessed to him.

Jisung has been racking his brain for weeks now, trying to understand just how things got where they are now and the only conclusion he got is that he is the one who changed.

After looking at a future where you were nowhere to be found, Jisung realized that a life without you doesn't make any sense to him. Food lost its taste, activities didn't bring him any pleasure, coming home didn't feel the same.

Why would he want to come home to a house where you were not there? A place where you wouldn't have dinner with him and talk about your day, watch something and make little comments about the nonsensical things happening on the screen or funny curiosities about what you were watching. Jisung realized he didn't want to do those things with anyone but you, he wanted to hear you laughing of his jokes, he wanted to see you looking at him with a judgemental glare when he said something stupid, he wanted to wake up and look at your face for the rest of his life, it had to be you, it couldn't be anyone else.

It's just sad that he only realized that when it was too late.

“She rejected you?”, his mom asks and Jisung nods, biting his bottom lip.

“You're not going to give up now, right? Because of one rejection!”, your mom tells him. “We had to watch y/n’s eyes always on you for years, she didn't give up that easily so I won't accept it if you just give up on my daughter like that”, she huffs.

“What am I to do? I'm afraid I'll ruin our friendship”, he cries out.

“Don't you think she had that same fear when she confessed to you?” Jisung's mother says. “There are things in life that are worth the risk”

“You know, if you're sure you won't regret it even if the result is not what you expected, you should keep trying”, your mom says, “from what you just told us, you didn't ask her for a chance. You can't give up before asking for a chance”

He looks from your mom to his, sighing. Should he? Should he try to win you back?

The door opens and your voice is heard from the entrance, making the three of them shut up and pretend like they weren't just talking about you.

Your schedule got full again with tutoring since you're going to stop it while you're going through your finals. The parents want you to speed things up so their children don't fall behind while you're away. That means less free time to think about your messy love life and honestly that's for the best because you're more confused than ever. So you spend most of your time at school or in your students houses, going back home late at night and going out early in the day.

Jisung misses seeing your face, when he arrives at night you're already asleep and when he wakes in the morning you're already gone. He knows it's for the best, that way you can take your time to get used to the way things are between you two now. He also needs this time to decide if he really wants to risk your friendship by asking you for a chance or if it's better for him to try and get over these feelings, however, he can't help but long for you.

Jisung knows just how hectic the last week has been with you coming home just to sleep, trying to keep up with studying and tutoring. So he asks for Minho's help to cook your favorite dish, your mom sent him the receipt saying she always cooked it for you when you were studying for the college's exam.

After another exhausting day you arrive home, just wanting a warm bath and your bed. However, the moment you step into the house, you feel the nice familiar smell of food, making your stomach growl.

“Hey”, Han glances at you before going back to setting the table.

“Why does this smell so good?” You ask, dropping your bag on the sofa and coming closer to the table to look at whatever food has this smell.

“I was going to bring dinner but decided to cook”, he shrugs.

“Hm? How is the kitchen still intact?” You joke and he glares at you.

“Minho might or might not have been here overseeing the process so I wouldn't set the apartment on fire”, he pouts.

You nod, walking to the sink to wash your hands.

“Why didn't you invite him to have dinner with us?”, you ask.

“I did but he didn't want to stay”, he shrugs. “I think he's going to visit his cats tonight”

Well, the cats come first place to Minho, you're already used to that. So you just nod, watching Jisung finish putting the things in place while you sit down.

“How was your day?” He asks.

“Exhausting”, you say with a sigh. You have big eye bags under your eyes.

“Are you sleeping well?”

“Yeah, it's just a lot going on”, you answer truthfully.

You should have stopped tutoring some time ago, but you kept pushing it so you could have something to keep you occupied away from your break up with Jeongho and a bit to escape from the dilemma in your mind about your feelings for Jisung.

“You know”, he says slowly, trying to find the best words, “I don't want you to feel pressured by my feelings, you can even forget what I said if it's best for you”

He didn't really want you to forget, but the last thing Jisung wants is for you to feel more exhausted because of him.

“I don't know if I want to forget”, you mumble, not really thinking before speaking.

“What? What do you mean?” Jisung asks, his heartbeat getting faster, hope growing in his chest.

“I just- I don't know”, you play with your food, not wanting to look at him. “I don't know if I still like you in that way but I'm not sure if I don't like you at all anymore”, you confess.

“Wait- I”, he feels his stomach sinking in. He doesn't know what to say, this is not the time to ask you to consider giving him another chance, right? You're confused right now, he shouldn't pressure you, so he bottles everything in, struggling but restraining his feelings. “Take your time, I won't go anywhere”, he says confidently, even though he's not actually that confident.

Jisung's not sure if having hope is the right thing for his heart, he's not strong like you and knows that the moment you reject him definitely he'll fall apart. Maybe that's why he's been so afraid of asking you to give him a chance.

You nod, lost in thoughts. Maybe it would be better if he pressured you, then you would be forced to make a decision and get out of this bind you're in right now.

Hannah started trying to convince you to go to a party. Why does she always try to drag you to a party every time you're having problems in your love life? You are afraid not even her knows the answer for that, guess that that's what friends are for.

“It's after exams, you'll need to relax”, she points out, “it's going to be good to have some fun after worrying so much about the finals”

“I just want to sleep for a whole day”, you whine, “that's how I want to relax after the exams”

You're not even sure how you found the time to meet with her, you're both between classes and she's really using your ten minute break for this.

“You need to get out there, meet new people”, she says, receiving a mean glare from you. “Not like that”, Hannah pouts, “I mean meeting new people in general, not to date”

“Well, I think I already know enough people”, you say and she sighs, crossing her arms while sulking.

“Please, it's your last party in college”, she points out, “we need to celebrate”

You take a deep breath.

“It's not my last party if I bomb on my exams”, you tell her, watching her roll her eyes and scoff.

“You're like the only person in this school who has zero chance of bombing an exam”, she says, pushing you lightly, while giving you puppy eyes. “Can we please go to the party? After we graduate we won't have time to meet each other as much and I'm going to miss you so much I might die”

You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Why are you so dramatic?” You sigh, “okay, fine. We can go”, you give in.

“Great! Now let’s go, I'm sure we are late”, she says, making you panic looking at your watch, you could kill her right now if you were not about to miss your exam.

Han arrives and for the first time in a while you're awake, Hannah's there with you so that explains why you're still up. He greets you two, going to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

“Hey, do you want ice cream?” You ask him, pointing at the big bowl of ice cream you have in your lap.

“No, thank you”, he says, awkwardly. He missed your face so much that he takes a few more seconds to come to his senses.

“Have you heard about Ryujin's party?” Hannah asks, “I know she's friends with Hyunjin.

“I didn't”, Jisung answers, eyeing you.

“We are planning to go”, Hannah says, pretending to be clueless to his longing eyes on you.

“That's cool”, he clears his throat, “I can pick you up after the party”

“Really? That would be cool”, Hannah nods, her attention going back to you when you let out a big sigh.

“Well, I had plans for whren I finish my exams”, you sigh, “I was going to watch a list of horror movies while stuffing my face with the most unhealthy foods I can find”, you point out.

“Too bad”, Hannah mocks, chuckling at your confused face. “You already told me you are going so no take backs”

“Do I have to dress up?”, you huff, in defeat and your best friend rolls her eyes, starting to talk about all the clothes she bought that would look good on you.

Meanwhile, Jisung leans on the kitchen counter, wishing that no one notices him there so he can look at you for a minute more.

You think you did well on your exams, each test you finished gave you a sense of relief, finally you would be out of college in a few weeks. However, that also brought you new doubts, what would you do now? You'll have to find a job and it's already time for you and Jisung to resolve the matter with your friendship, you have to decide what you're going to do.

If you decide to not give him another chance, you are going to need to move out of the apartment, that's for certain. Even if you want to move on, you can't while living with him. But if you decide to give him a chance, what then? What changes in your relationship? You never really thought about how things would work out if Jisung ever liked you back. You never even entertained the idea of having sex with him, you knew that once you let those thoughts get to you, you would be done for so you avoided them, but now those things you thought were impossible, are becoming too real and those thoughts are trying to sneak in on your mind.

Jisung is giving you space, he spends time with you but the air is almost always awkward, like he has something to say but won't spit it out.

Now that you're free from studying the whole day, you have more free time and that leads to you thinking about Jisung all the time.

The party is boring, you want to go home. You met Heeseung there with his friends and for the first time in what looks like a decade, Hannah is interested in someone so you encourage her to go do her thing and flirt with the person. She doesn't want to leave you at first but you insist and she finally goes to the dance floor, leaving you to mop silently in a corner of the room.

Heeseung and his friends keep you company and take care of you while you down your drinks, you want to relax after so much you have been going through. You just didn't expect to get dizzy and sick so easily and when you realize you're in Jisung's car, being taken home.

“Where's Hannah?” You ask, startling Jisung.

"Hyunjin is at the party, he's going to take her home later”, he answers, paying attention back to the road.

“Who told you to come?” You don't remember calling him, but to be fair you also don't remember when you stopped being aware of what was happening around you.

“I was actually calling you to check if everything was okay”, he says, “so Heeseung answered and asked me to pick you up”

Jisung actually called to know if you were enjoying the party, imagine his surprise when a man picked up. He froze at the moment, gathering courage to speak and ask him who he was and why he was picking up a call on your phone but before he could get out of his own head and ask, Heeseung was already explaining the situation.

You're so dizzy you can't even keep standing, the whole trip from the car to the apartment is just a blur. You were in the passenger seat, then in the elevator, then running to the bathroom as soon as you set foot into the house.

As you're throwing up everything you ate the whole day, you hear the hurried steps from Jisung. He puts a glass of water in the bathroom sink, kneeling on the ground right next to you. Jisung gathers every loose strand of your hair, holding it away from your face while he looks around, trying not to stare at your pathetic scene.

“It's been a while since we have been in this situation”, you point out, reaching for the glass of water, the nasty taste in your mouth making you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

“I guess you're right”, he answers. “What about a cold shower to sober up?” He jokes, tying your hair in a ponytail now that your head is still.

“No, thank you”, you watch him get up. “I think I'm already sober enough, but I'll accept a warm bath”

Jisung nods, walking to the shower and turning on the hot water to fill the bathtub.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, analyzing you to make sure you can take care of yourself. “You're not going to choke on your own vomit, right?” He asks, pretending to be disgusted.

“Shut up”, you tell him, rolling your eyes.

“I'll wait outside, call me if you need help”

You nod, does he think you're a child that can't take a bath? Even if you're a bit drunk, you can still function normally.

You scoff watching him leave the bathroom and close the door, trying to ignore the warmth growing on your cheeks from the simple mention of him helping you while you take a bath.

After a long time under the hot water, you finish your bath and brush your teeth, getting ready for bed, a lot less intoxicated now.

You open the door carefully, you don't have any clothes to change so you're wrapped in a towel and the last thing you need is Han catching you like that again.

Surprisingly, there's a chair by the door’s side with Jisung's clothes on top of it, a shirt and sweatpants but there's no sign of the man. So you just grab the clothes and change in the bathroom.

When you enter your room, Jisung is there, making the bed. He glances at you, he saw you in his clothes a thousand times before but it seems so different at that moment, he can't help but feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Jisung avoids looking at you, he's embarrassed about his reaction, so he keeps making the bed while talking to you.

“I didn't want to go through your wardrobe, so I left my clothes there”, he clears his throat, “I'm glad it fit”

“Of course if fit”, you chuckles. “Jisung I lost count of how many times I borrowed your clothes”

“Yeah, but-”, he mumbles, stopping himself mid sentence, giving up on what he wants to say while shaking his head but you're not having it this time, you're tired of him bottling up the things he wants to say.

“But what?” You ask.

“It's nothing”, he sighs, still not looking at you.

You walk to him, putting your hand on his shoulder to pull him, making him turn around.

“But what, Jisung?” You ask again, forcing him to look at him, noticing his red cheeks for the first time in this conversation.

“It's different now”, he says, “I feel different about you and it's nice seeing you dressed in my clothes”, he shrugs everything at once.

“Ah…” you take a step back, you didn't stop to think about that.

“Can you give me a chance?” He asks suddenly, taking you out of your thoughts, making you look at him with a frown in your face and he would be lying if he said that reaction didn't scare him, but he already gathered all his courage, he can't back down now.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“Let me prove to you why you should stay with me”, he pleads, reaching for your hands and you actually let him take them into his own. “If you fell out of love with me give me a chance to make you fall in love with me again and if you still like me but is not sure about our relationship let me show you that we are worth giving a try”

He spoke slowly this time, making sure you understood every word he said so that if you reject him, he will know that it's not a misunderstanding, you really don't want his love. But if you accept his try, he wants you to know what his purpose is.

You stare at him for a few moments, the silence growing scarier for Jisung but for you it's like time stopped. His eyes, locked on yours, full of hope making you nervous but at the same time, your heart is beating fast. Since the first sentence he spoke, the answer couldn't be other than yes.

Not yes to being in a relationship with him, you still have a lot of doubts but the thought of him trying to win you over is just enough to make your heart flutter and the butterflies on your stomach move faster.

“Do it”, you tell him, looking deeply into his eyes, “prove to me why I should give you a second chance”, you tell him and the relief that washes over his eyes makes it seem like you just told him he is free from an incurable disease.

“Are you sure?” He asks, afraid you'll change your mind but you nod. The first thing you feel is his hard chest against yours, he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you around.

“I'll show you that we are meant to be together”, he says, hugging you tightly and kissing the top of your head.

The mission to make y/n fall in love with Jisung again has officially started.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing. Also, you can buy me a coffee.

Taglist(closed): in red are people I couldn't tag.

@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @starsandrqindrops @itshannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98 @blithevix @astro-doll-the-star @vlctorriaa @captainchrisstan @rag-iii @notastraykid @jisunghannie @applepie-macaroon @stayingdelulu @sundayysunshine @kidrauhlschik @wolfennracha @meloncremesoda @hanschimpmunk @realrintaro @teejisung @maexc @gyustarzzi @ivaneedssleep @chaeryred @daemon-bunny @broken-glowsticks @ch4nniebang @sleepyleeji @seukijeuxq @luvbangchan @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @castielsfrillywhiteknickers @armystaytiny @literallyjustwanttoread @jisunghannie @jungkookies1002 @diorggukie @channieandhisgoonsquad @mamabymychem @ladylexis @bmnyy

[bbyquokka]

fizzy pop

– yn has a habit of bottling up their emotions, chan comforts them & explains the importance of communicating about feelings/emotions.

pairing | bang chan x gender neutral reader

genre | angst w comfort – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship, mental health (low moods, low/no motivation, lose of interest in hobbies/things), pet names.

words | 2k ~ ( 2,042 )

notes | idk why but i've been putting off on posting this for months, maybe bc im nervous 🤔 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

it's just another day. another day of just being there. another day of feeling like you have no purpose in life except to please others. another day of wondering “what is the purpose of me being here?” you fake smiles, say you're "ok" because saying how you actually feel is exhausting.

aside from it feeling exhausting, you also don't want to draw attention to yourself and when you do speak, you feel stupid for doing so, so you keep it all in, bottle it up until it's too much for you to handle. some days you wonder why you even bother to get out off bed.

is it because of the birds you hear outside? the sun's heat that you want to feel on your skin? could it be the laughter and chitter chatter of others? or maybe you want to hear the rain on the leaves–who knows. all you know is that everyday is the same and it's tiring.

the days merge into one. what day is it even? monday? tuesday? oh wait, it's saturday morning. time doesn't exist anymore. in your mind you see no point in getting up out of bed because again, what's the point? 

so why is it that your boyfriend is gently shaking you, asking, no, begging you to get up.

“darlin'. please get up.” chan whispers as he gently shakes you by the shoulders. you sigh deeply, a tired sigh that causes chan to swallow and his suspicions to come to light.

you pull the duvet over your head, body curled in a small and fragile ball. the curtains are still drawn providing darkness despite the morning rays that wish to peak inside. 

chan has been up since the crack of dawn. he has showered, made breakfast and managed to get dressed. he gave you some extra time to sleep in because he knows you're not a morning person but when the number nine on his watch turned to twelve and you're still not up and out, does he grow concerned.

he's had his suspicions for a while. he's noticed how defeated you sound. how there is little to no energy in the words you speak. he's tried everything to cheer you up, thinking, hoping you were just having an off day. but that off day turned into an off week which slowly, but surely, turned into an off month.

you lost your passion for being creative, lost the will to make anything which you despise. being creative is one of the many pleasures you have in life, to be able to make something and share your creations with others is exhilarating but when you feel like this, your mood turns bitter and cold towards everything you do which results in you resenting everything you create.

you lost the energy to speak to people. to pick up the phone and just talk. you're not deliberately ignoring nor trying to be difficult but keeping conversations flowing is just too hard right now and when you think they're giving you the same energy back do you feel so guilty. 

what have i done to deserve this? why am i forced to feel like this. you find yourself questioning everything late at night. your head loud as soon as it hits the pillow and no amount of music you blast down your ears can silence those thoughts.

everything is so exhausting. everything is the same. you just want to disappear whether that be for a few days or forever, you're not quite sure, but certain people around you wont allow that to happen. they are keeping you afloat, head above water. you desperately and silently wish they never let you go, no matter how hard you fight and push them away.

“baby, please.” chan's words dripped with desperation. his knees on the bed behind you as he kneels causing the mattress to dip. his hands on your shoulders gently as his eyes bore into the duvet, burning holes into it until he is burning holes into you. tears threaten to spill down his soft cheeks as he becomes increasingly worried for you.

“chan..“ you whisper, your words shaking. “please.. leave me alone.” 

he swallows. those three last words he hates to hear. now he is left in a difficult position. should he do as you say and leave you? leave you to fester and rot in your own thoughts and feelings. watch you melt into the mattress and become nothing but a lifeless shell. or should he force himself, force you to acknowledge him. show you, tell you that's it's going to be ok–even if you don't believe him in the beginning.

but this is chan and you know more than anyone how stubborn chan can be.

“lets go take a shower yn, together! and maybe we can go out and get lunch at that café you love so much?”

silence. 

“or how about we go to that art shop! pick up those water colours you've been eyeing up for months?”

silence.

“ok well, what about some new cloth–”

“chan please!” you snap, causing him to jump. “what part of leave me alone don't you understand?!”

you don't mean to sound harsh and you hope chan doesn't take it to heart. the last thing you want is to hurt the one person you adore so much. luckily, chan knows you don't mean it but it doesn't hurt him any less.

“all of it.” he softly speaks. you feel the weight being lifted up off the mattress and footsteps against the wood flooring before the bedroom door squeaks open at the hinges.

your heart breaks. hot angry tears finally being set free and rolling down the bridge of your nose and cheeks, soaking into the material of your pillow. you sob, curling up into a ball even more as your heart aches in your chest. you grip onto the pillow as you silently cry out for chan, thinking he has completely left you alone.

but you did ask for it so why do you feel so guilty?

the duvet gets pulled back from you, the cold air hitting your hot and sweaty skin. the mattress dips once again as an arm snakes over your midriff. chest being pressed against your back as chan spoons you.

“don't cry, darlin'. i'm here, your channie is here.” his soft words provide you with a sense of comfort and an indescribable feeling of warmth as well as relief. his hand strokes your soft stomach, his lips kissing your neck so tenderly you worry that he isn't really there. 

“c-chan…” you sob through your words as a way of confirmation. you can't breathe, the pain of everything that's built up over the past months is making it impossible for you to breathe. your mind fogs over as your chest heaves up and down.

you struggle to take breaths as tears stream down your face. your pillow becomes soaked with your tears. chan strokes your unwashed hair gently, hushing you and singing softly to help ground you.

“sh sh sh. you're ok, you're safe.” he whispers.

“sorry! i'm sorry!” you repeat over and over again in your fits of tears. chan continues to hush you, noticing that it's not working so he gently rolls you over to face him and pulls you into his naked chest. 

the warmth and softness of his skin calms you down in an instant. his natural scent hugs your nostrils and sinks into your heart, soothing your heartbeat as well as your mind. you grip onto him, desperately trying to cling onto something before resulting in wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

he gives you a bear hug. arms around your shoulders gently, fingers raking and massaging your scalp. his chest wet with tears as he continues to hush you through your episode.

there isn't much he can do when you're crying like this except wait. wait for it to pass–and it does, fifteen minutes later.

“better?” he gently asks. you peer up at him to notice that his own cheeks are wet with a few tears slowly falling.

“you're crying..” you whisper as you reach up and wipe the tears away. chan laughs softly before leaning into your touch. “why?”

“because it pains me to see you like this, my love.” that guilt comes back, settling in your stomach and wrapping itself around your heart, like black fog. you look down, tears falling from your lower lash line.

“sorry..” you mumble.

“hey.” chan unwraps his arms from you to gently lift up your head. “it hurts because i can't do anything about it. it hurts because i love you! seeing you in so much pain is rough darling. and it's not physical pain either, it's not like i can put a band aid on your wound.”

“i'm sorry i'm like this, chan. sorry i'm so difficult and such a disappointment.”

“oi.” his tone of voice turns stern which causes you to look up at him. his brows furrowed together as he reaches and strokes your cheek. “you're not a disappointment or difficult baby. it's ok to feel like this, to have off days and feel like nothing is right, however, you have to come to me when you feel like this! or if you can't come to me, talk to a friend.”

“but i hate talking about my feelings, chan.. i feel like a burden and that it just bores people and when i do confined in people, it feels like i don't get the comfort i expect to get so i'm left thinking if it's worth it and if i just expect too much from people.”

“what have i told you about bottling things up, mhm?”

“that it's just going to keep building and building until i explode.” you mumble to which chan hums and nods too

“imagine you're a bottle of fizzy pop. your body is the bottle, your feelings are the fizzy liquid. what happens when you shake a bottle of fizzy pop?”

“it bubbles and explodes, creating a huge mess.”

“and what happens when you bottle your feelings up?”

“i get shaken up by the smallest of things, which causes me to bubble and explode..”

“mhm. you have to remember, my darling, that how you feel is valid. your feelings are valid. you might seem like it's something so small or stupid, but that something small could build and build and build.”

“so i should come to you whenever i feel negative?”

“yes.”

“even if i'm frustrated at a piece of work? even if i can't get a recipe right and it annoys me?”

“yes.”

“but that is so small and not as important..”

“yn, if it's bothering you then it's big. if it's bothering you, it's important to me. if you feel angry, upset, energy less, i beg that you come to me or to a friend! it's important that we voice these things, let it be known because you'll feel better.” he tucks your hair behind your ear gently before you nuzzle into his chest, thinking about what he's saying.

he is correct. he always is and that's the thing that sometimes bothers you, but in a good way! it just means that you can't hide anything from chan, whether it's good or bad and when you are feeling down, chan is always there to pick you back up and dust you off, providing you with love and comfort.

“shall we go shower together to start the day?”

“isnt it a bit late for that? besides, hasn't your day already started?” you mumble against his chest.

“it's never too late to start the day and besides, i don't mind ‘restarting’ my day if it means i get to do it with you.” he kisses the top of your head gently, stroking your back as you tangle your legs with his.

“soon.”

“soon?” he questions.

“i just want to spend some more minutes with you..”

“we can spend as many minutes together as you like, my darling. as long as you're happy and content.”

“i'm always happy and content with you, chan. you're my safe space.”

“and i hope i continue to be and provide you with that safe space, yn.”

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[creativewritersposts]

fucked up - Nico Hischier

summary; Nico Hischier x reader.

The honest opinion from a person you really like can hurt the most. But what if Nico regrets it?

warning(s); bad language, angst, argument, fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; based on a true story. I'm sorry for not posting "happy-clappy fluff imagines" like usually (promise they'll come back soon). I can't write just pure fluff when I'm crying a river.

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

It's the third day in a row that Nico doesn't want to talk with you. You can't explain why, but your stomach feeling tells you, something is not okay. You tried to distract yourself with work, work and more work. But when you step in your apartment, you're mentally break down. Your overthinking says hello. You grab your phone, trying to call him, just his mailbox.

"What did I do wrong", you mumble to yourself, biting on your lip. It's rainy outside, like how you feel. You're starring at other people out of the window, until your phone vibrates. "hello?", you start the conversation without looking on the screen, who it is. "it's Nico, are you at home?", his voice sounds deep and kinda annoyed, "yes", you smile, happy to hear he's alive. "Ok bye", he hangs up without a second. You stress yourself to cook a nice dinner in an hour until the door bell rings. "hi baby!", you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but he pushes you politely away, "we need to talk, something is bothering me", his brown eyes let you feel confused, he never been so serious. You nod and let him walk in your kitchen. "I cooked dinner for us two", you smile to blow the negative vibes away. "Do you think dinner will change the fact you act exaggerate?!", his tall body turns around because he stands before you. "huh?", you're even more confused. "We're not together and you stress me out", he tolerates no argument whilst speaking. Honestly you're not able to argue. It's like a punch in your face. "what did I do?", you feel so small. Even when he told you this in a respectful way. "you stress me out. You want to text non-stop and you're not my girlfriend, not yet. After last night with five text messages I'm thinking if it's a good idea to ask you for that", Nico grabs your shaky hands,"it's not like I'm not interested anymore", he kisses your forehead. You're just able to nod and accept the fact. What he needs and wants.

"Thank you for telling me this", your fake smile shows sadness. Nico doesn't want to hurt you on purpose. "I'll pack in the pesto for you", with blurry eyes you do that, giving him the lunch box. Nico just stays calm, taking it and when you close the door behind you, he thinks of hoping you understood what he meant.

The next days your chest feels heavy, texting no message, you don't call him, you let him his freedom. You know Nico lost the finals of the world championship, he looked so disappointed and usually you would at least send him something lovely, but your brain tells you; you were clingy. You're the problem. You're a bad Person for bothering someone. You don't enjoy being a clingy girl.

In the middle of night your phone vibrates again, like ten times until you groan, you're not in the shape to talk happy phone calls. "hey, are you ok?", his voice sounds occupied. "Sure", you reply. "You didn't text me once. I'm worried. We lost", he let you know the news. Of course you're not saying that you watched his game. Like he gave you a clear message. You would be clingy you're not his girlfriend and he owes you nothing.

"I'm sorry to hear that", your hands shake again. You don't feel comfortable anymore, more like you have to hide your personality to be not the problem anymore. "I didn't mean that I don't like to talk with you", he coughs. "I really like you anyway as a person who you are", he talks more. "I'm tired, good night", hanging up until he can hear how much you're hurt. Just thoughts hunting you in your head;

what are you doing now?

What is the right way to deal with this?

[vanesycho]

i thought abt board student reader that smokes and one she goes outside to smoke and wonbin appears telling her that it's his spot but then they start smoking together and it leads to more.

thank you so much for your request🫶🏻 I hope I could write something as you wanted, enjoyy🤍

Just chatting with Wonbin while smoking<3

wc:1,3k

You let out a sigh of relief when you finally had some free time. Being exposed to those people for a long time had tired you out, you had always been someone who liked being alone more. When you went out, you sat on a nearby bench, first inhaled the scent of the air, then took out your cigarette and put it in your mouth, you took the lighter but when you were about to light it... "What a shame you have to leave here." you looked up and picked up your cigarette, the person you saw was none other than Wonbin. You didn't talk to him much, but you heard his name a lot, mostly in a bad way. Everyone talked about how cold and egotistical he was, but you preferred not to listen to the others, as if they were very different.

"Why would I leave?" Wonbin sat down next to you and took out his own cigarette as he spoke, “Because this is my place, I usually smoke here, and you’re going to invade my private time.” You grinned. He had to be kidding, right? “We’re not in elementary school, are you really going to fight over bench?” Wonbin didn’t answer, he looked like he was looking for something, you knew exactly what he was looking for so you handed him your lighter. He looked at your face for a moment and then reached for the lighter but you pulled your hand back. “I’ll sit here?” You asked with raised eyebrows. It was sounded like a question but you weren't going to get up even if he said no. Wonbin rolled his eyes briefly and without saying anything, he grabbed the lighter from your hand and lit a cigarette, handing it back to you, but when you were about to take it, it was him who pulled your hand away this time. "You'd better keep quiet?"

You grinned, grabbed the lighter and lit your own cigarette, leaning back and looking around. Even though the first few minutes were quiet, "Do you take smoke breaks often?" when he heard your laughing, he frowned, not understanding what was funny, you turned to him, seeing his confused face amused you even more "You're the one who just told me to be quiet, and now you're trying to start a conversation?"

He didn't answer, he just took a drag on his cigarette. You did the same. "Usually, yes, I take a smoke break, but I don't see you very often.You?" He studied your face for a moment. "I'm almost always here, but I never noticed you either." He took a drag on his cigarette and continued, "Maybe it's because you haven't caught my attention yet." You were surprised by this statement but tried not to show it. You turned your gaze to the ground with a slight smile. Spoke in a sarcastic tone. "Maybe it's not that important to get your attention." He grinned "Is that so? Maybe I'm more interesting than you think."

The cigarette smoke dispersed in the air, Wonbin leaned his head back and looked up at the sky, today was cloudier than other days. Then he looked at you, you turned around and looked at him the same way. "I don't know if you're interesting, but all I've heard about you are comments about how cold and egotistical you are." Wonbin threw his head back and laughed at what you said, he didn't seem offended at all, he didn't have anything to be offended about "Not surprised, I hear this from many people, I just act cold around people I don't want to be around, which is quite natural."

You didn't comment, he was right, You didn't need people to love you, anyone who wanted to come would come and get to know the real you, Wonbin must be thinking the same thing.

The silence continued as a few more minutes passed, your first cigarettes were already finished. You handed him the lighter as you took out a new one, smiled slightly as he leaned his head towards the lighter, you lit his cigarette. "You're weird." He took a drag on his second cigarette. "And why is that?"

"If you ask, everyone in here knows you but they talk badly about you, at the same time there is a part where you are loved by everyone, they say you look very cold but I see you laughing and having fun most of the time." He listened to what you said without interrupting, the slight smile on his lips never left, he looked at you when you finished your sentence. "Am I being watched or do you do this to everyone?"

The question that caught you off guard made you silenced, no it wasn't actually like that, on the contrary the person you saw everywhere was Wonbin, like something fate was trying to put together but you both rejecting this. When he saw that you were silent, he laughed with his cigarette in his mouth and came forward from the bench he was leaning against. Leaned forward and turned his head towards you, you looked at him the same way. "As I said, I'm only like this with people I'm close to, I may be too cold towards other people but honestly I don't really care what they think of me."

You nodded, not taking your eyes off each other, awkward silence and staring at each other continued for a while. "You're not cold to me, but you don't know me either." This time, Wonbin was the one caught off guard by the unexpected question, he just smiled, averting his gaze to the floor "How am I if I'm not cold?" You tilted your head slightly and thought about Wonbin’s question. It seemed like you wanted to say something about him, so you chose your words carefully. "I don't know. Maybe distant...But it's like there's something else behind that distance."

These words caught his attention. He didn’t take his eyes off yours, his expression becoming a little more serious. "You realized that in such a short time?" You smiled slightly. "Maybe. I like to observe people. But most of the time you only see their surface. I don't know if it's the same with you." Your words made him think for a while, you watched him inhale his cigarette, how he brought it to his lips. "You may want to understand things, but have you ever thought about letting go?"

'Letting go' wasn't something you were familiar with, you had always lived your life planned, maybe every second, but what was different today was that your break time was already over. But you were still here, continuing to chat with him. This new but intense conversation between you had opened the door for both of you to be more open and honest with each other. "Well... if you're curious, maybe one day I can show you what's beyond that distance."

You frowned slightly. “Is that an offer?” Wonbin spoke in a low voice, turning his gaze away from you. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just allowing some boundaries to open." You sensed a hidden invitation behind Wonbin’s words. You wondered if you were ready to open up more. Silence, but this time it was more meaningful and intense. After a while, you put out your finished cigarette and stood up. He looked up at you and noticed the smile on your face.

"One day I'd like to see what's beyond those boundaries." A slight smile appeared on Wonbin's face as he thought about what you said. He watched you as you walked in, he knew you were different, you had always caught his attention but now his ideas had changed, he definitely wanted to get to know you better, he wanted you.

[notroosterbradshaw]

about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

masterlist.

The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised. 

Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand... 

You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening. 

Ahh, sisters. 

Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock. 

“What time is it?” You asked softly.

“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”

Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before. 

He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly. 

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.

“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.” 

“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours." 

“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”

“You sure?”

“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”

“It’s Christmas. People travel.”

“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.

You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today." 

"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?

"I think you'll be fine."

"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”

You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."

"I would believe that," he said softly. 

"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.

"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.

"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy." 

"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."

You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time. 

“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…” 

“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole. 

"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”

“Confident of you, don’t you think?”

“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”

“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”

He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world. 

"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.” 

“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled. 

“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times. 

The one per cent, he’s told you once before. 

You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.

“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."

“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable). 

“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again. 

These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.

"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound." 

That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him. 

Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious. 

He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.

He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.” 

You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”

“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.” 

“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him. 

“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”

"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it. 

Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip. 

“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”

Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?” 

You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.” 

Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."

"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time. 

"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.  

"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging. 

Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.

It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start. 

But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up. 

Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.

"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were. 

"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”

Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come. 

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”

“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts. 

He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.

“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.

“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”

“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him. 

“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it. 

A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.

“You want eggs?”

“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”

“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too. 

Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no. 

[marys2ndson]

hunting fucking sucks: a fic rec list

I just love when their lives suck not because they’re vessels for archangels or whatever, but just because their job is the worst. thankless, dangerous, morally ambiguous, leaving them injured and dirty and bone-tired. i <3 whump

Due East by sowell (4,700 words)

Just hunts and angst and them, together. Love the characterization. 

“I think I like you injured. Less bitchy,” Dean says with a smile, and Sam blinks at him. / “What?” / “You think I haven’t noticed you sulking for two days straight?”

Hard to Come By by sevenfists (1,700 words)

Hunting, driving around, sleeping in shitty motels. Making difficult choices, dealing with hard realities. 

"You don't smoke," Sam says, and Dean says, "What's it look like I'm doing?" The cigarette tastes like ass. He smokes it anyway, tapping the ash out the open window. It's August. Sam turns up the air conditioning. Dean turns it back down.

Below Breath by kalliel (3,100 words)

Season 2, case fic. Love the complete lack of exposition. You’re just thrown into it on Dean’s terms, and everything is complicated and difficult and unknown. 

Dude, he says, and shoves you in the back with his shotgun. You resist the urge to turn around and smack him with it. Or kiss him, all teeth. See how much he’s paying attention then. 

Every Rhyme Without Reason by kalliel (44,800 words) 

Season 1, case fic, Sam POV. Fascinating and atmospheric and a tough read bc Sam’s life is very uphill at this point, but he’s so present, wrestling and grappling with it. Love him. <3

Maybe they killed that rawhead, released that reaper, slashed that bax'aan's throat. Maybe they'll kill this thing in Rime. But this is what's gonna get them: They have $127.34, four more nights, half a tank of gas, and some cold leftovers to their name. Out here, there's nowhere to go but down; and even then, they're going to have to limp.

With Gravy by kalliel (3,700 words)

Vague season 2. A hunt gone wrong. Slim chances of survival, complete darkness, pain, and heroism. 

The tunnel stretches on and on, and all Dean hears is their footsteps getting heavier, sloppier. One kid cries. The woman cries. The man's leg doesn't quite clear some jutting rocks, and he weeps.

The Real Thing by ameliacareful (14,200 words)

Jensen wakes up in a motel room in Dean’s place. So outsider POV. That thing about the third trial, about Tom and Shep… Kill me. 

“Are you doing that on purpose?” / “What?” / “Sounding like him?” / “A little. Does it work?” Jensen asked. / Sam did that funny little flicker of a smile/grimace that Jared only did as Sam. “Yeah, it does.” His gaze hardened. “Don’t do it again.” / Sam was suddenly very big. Armed. / “Gotcha,” Jensen said.

Catch Your Death by road_rhythm (22,300 words)

They work a ghost hunt while Sam’s sick. This fucks severely! All their petty fights and their biases and bickering really get the spotlight they deserve, as well as the fact that they just really love and care about each other. Feels exactly like a really good ep of s2. And takes up some of the interesting Sam issues as well.

It was this, every time. Sam lashed out and Dean came back with impenetrable patience and washcloths and medicine and touch and one day it would be his life. And there was no answering back to that.

my habit of breaking hearts as soon as i have them by acccording2thelore (6,600 words)

WARNING: major character death. 

A hunt gone wrong. Staggering grief and horror mixed with intimacy and connection. <3 

If he can just get to Garth, he can send up some of his people and help carry Sam to the base of the mountain. Dean won’t make it that far.

the blurriness of being alive by hathfrozen (3,500 words)

WARNING: major character death. 

Sam dies of an infection.

“They don’t get to grieve for him,” Dean tells Miracle when he decides he isn’t calling anybody to tell them. “They ain’t allowed. They don’t get it.” Dean’s had the worst things in the known universe leeching off of him, trying to turn him into evil, but this is the most rotten, meanest he’s ever felt. He doesn’t fucking care.

A Lifetime or Two by nigeltde (18,400 words)

They work a case with their mom; Sam gets banged up; they try something new. This fic feels so real and lived in. The familiarity between Sam and Dean, the way Sam feels left out, Sam’s quiet loneliness and enduring hope, Dean’s desperate affection. <3

Sam would say lucky it was just broken bones. Lucky nothing else cut too deep. Lucky his ear was intact. Dean gets lost, strung out, trying to calculate: if Sam had been concussed, would that still be good luck? If he’d lost the finger, should Dean be thankful? Where does it end, the tallying? Sam thrown through glass, dragged across pavement, tossed into a car, stitched up in this cramped doll’s house of a room, having to bluntly endure; this is what he’s supposed to be grateful for?

Settle Down My Shivered Bones by abitingsmile (4,800 words)

WARNING: disordered eating, food insecurity, and child neglect. 

Pre-series. John, unreliable and off hunting somewhere, and Sam and Dean, making it work with too little cash and too little food. Love this exact flavor of codependency, not sweet, but hard-earned and for survival. 

Sam still bickered with him about school and television and laundry, but not about food. Hell, he practically waited for Dean to give him permission to eat, because that way they knew there’d be enough. John or no, this was something incredibly important they could control, they could handle. John simply wasn’t in the loop anymore.

[navstuffs]

BratTamer!Leon Kennedy with a SpoiledRichGN!Reader (warning: mild dubcon, SMUT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

author's notes: yes, i know i normally don't write about this, but really been in the mood lately for something like this. enjoy!

BratTamer!Leon Kennedy, who gets hired by your rich dad to be your bodyguard, but only on paper. The truth? Your dad is tired of your spoiled attitude and decided to hire someone to teach you some manners, though he was the one to spoil you in the first place.

BratTamer!Leon is hated by you at first sight. You don't like having someone around you as you try to spend your afternoons spending money and going to luxurious parties, especially when your friends are more attracted to hitting on him, always being stared at by his watchful blue eyes (when he isn't wearing those stupid sunglasses). Sure, he is attractive, but they can't see he is a pain in the ass, standing behind you with those dumb sunglasses and incredibly sexy blue suit?

BratTamer!Leon gets tired of your superior attitude toward everyone and is close to his limit. The last straw is when he sees you screaming at a poor young lady worker from a high-end store for simply bumping into you on accident, though she tried to apologize in a tearful tone. You don't notice Leon's eyes fill with rage as you scream about how incompetent the seller is, so the whole store hears as you humiliate her. This behavior from you ends today.

"You think you are better than everyone, don't you? Just because you are rich? Just because daddy gives everything to you? It is time someone teaches you some manners." BratTamer!Leon growls before shoving your mouth down his cock when you are back in the expensive car. You realize there is no resistance on your part, a little anger inside your belly, though Leon isn't forcing you down. You are doing it because you want it. "Look how well your lips are taking me. How long have you wanted this?" Fucking bastard.

BratTamer!Leon who vows to fuck you as you need if you behave nicely but punish you badly if you don't. At first, you roll your eyes, ignoring the desperate sensation of being with Leon again. But when a maid from your house breaks a glass cup accidentally, you start screaming at her, not because you care about the cup but because you want to know what kind of trouble Leon is talking about.

The sounds of the slaps on your ass probably echo to the house, but you don't care. At least your dad isn't home. BratTamer!Leon has you on his lap, your ass exposed. He makes you count every single one of the slaps and tears in the corner of your eyes, and he warns, "Do not lose count," you lose it "on accident" a couple of times. BratTamer!Leon is still nice enough to rub your ass when he thinks you've had enough, impressed by how much you took it.

But he keeps his promise. When you apologize to the worker for screaming at her (attracting many surprised stares from everyone), BratTamer!Leon returns late at night to your room and gives you exactly what he promised.

"Haven't been fucked like this in ages, haven't you? See what happens if you behave? I can give you much more than this." BratTamer!Leon grunts as he takes you from behind, grabbing your waist, not giving you time to breathe, every single pound hitting deeper inside of you. You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he is taking you so good, so good, you can only sob a miserable no, begging to not stop.

Your whole demeanor changes. You become more polite, greeting those you always considered lower than you. Your dad is shocked, simply asking BratTamer!Leon, what it took. Leon smiles as he answers, "Just be firm, that is all."

But no one can change like that, and your brat personality comes out when you see a friend of your dad's hitting on your bodyguard during your birthday party. You honestly don't know half of those people, used to your dad using you for fame, but as you see those long red nails in BratTamer!Leon's dark suit, you bump into them with your wine glass before leaving.

He finds you on the balcony, his white shirt wet with wine, his suit jacket long forgotten. He is pissed, you are furious, and when he asks what that was all about, you tell him to go back and find someone else who he can have fun. And now you sound fucking stupid, with tears in your voice, turning around. You are hoping for him to punish you when you turn away, but when BratTamer!Leon's hand grabs your arm and turns you gently, his hand holding your face.

"Why would I want someone else if I only want you, bratty?"

BratTamer!Leon decides to give your birthday gift earlier. By bending you over the balcony, he suggests you stay quiet so no one looks up and sees how slutty you are. His face goes between your legs as he pushes his fingers inside of you. You hold back your moans, your legs trembling, and it doesn't take long until you whimper for him to stop teasing you and fuck in front of all those people to show everyone who you belong to. Not once does a single head rise despite Leon's grunts, occasional slaps in your ass, and the apparent noise of sex from the balcony. You still manage to keep quiet, even when he raises your leg so his dick can go even more deeper.

When you are done, BratTamer!Leon doesn't leave you like the other times. No, he helps you get to bed, helps clean your body's sweat, and cuddles with you. Leon simply shrugs when you ask him what your dad would think about him on your bed, replying maybe a little of your stubbornness rubbed on him.

"Really? You would blame this on me?" You wonder, pretending to be shocked.

"Why not? Everyone knows you are a bad influence. I might as well be the victim in all of this. Or he would thank me for giving you some manners."

"You really think really you have straightened me up, didn't you, Kennedy??" You tease, and he jokingly gives you a warning slap in your ass.

"We shall see this, brat."